Is It Really That Hard? Hubcaps

The Matrix lost a hubcap a few weeks back. Considering the state of the potholes in this city (they're littered with, at times, up to several feet of road—just disgraceful!), it's a surprise that it took this long. But we have also tarried in getting the hubcap replaced, and this is why.

It's IMPOSSIBLE to replace just one hubcap. Do they really think that all 4 fall off at once? Are you telling me that NO ONE ELSE replaces hubcaps that fall off; everyone is trading up to fancy rims and spinners and whatnot? Keith tried to find just one replacement hubcap online (the repository of everything, on sale for cheap with free shipping), and the price was much too high to justify it. Instead, I will end up going to a local auto parts store and buying a set of 4 new hubcaps.

And what am I supposed to do with the three perfectly good hubcaps that I will now be discarding? It's just so wasteful. And perhaps a bit wanton.

Last weekend, in the Costco parking lot, we saw a Matrix that had only one hubcap. Keith suggested we stake out the car and offer to buy the one hubcap off the hapless owner for $10; the owner could make some money, and we would still be putting our 3 good hubcaps to use.

Maybe we need some sort of online hubcap exchange. I just tried googling the phrase "online hubcap exchange" and didn't find anywhere that both offered 1) the right hubcaps and 2) proper American English. So I guess I will stick with going to the store and buying all new ones.

But is it really that hard to just replace one?!?

The Great TV Experiment Part 2

Since we got rid of DirecTV, Keith has been trying to get everything set up digitally. He's been moving computers and monitors hither and thither to experiment with Hulu, Boxee, and all manner of ways to watch TV without actually having any kind of TV service.

The other week, he stole the monitor from my desktop computer upstairs. I found it very disconcerting to walk into the study and see the empty desk. I couldn't help but think of my computer as being "headless." Although, technically speaking, I guess the brain is in the CPU anyway? But it did make it challenging to do anything on the computer at all. He was using the laptop to work on, plus the monitor from the upstairs computer to interface with a different computer running some other program ..... all I know is, I just want to write my blog and plan lessons!

I think that it's been more of a challenge to get everything set up than he had anticipated. The technology fervor has died down somewhat. We haven't watched many shows lately, and when we have, it's just been on the laptop. (We got the laptop as a second home computer, so it is rather large and unwieldy, with a 17-inch widescreen, so that's not as ridiculous as it sounds.)

Once last week, Eleanor went down for her nap and I needed something to distract me while folding diapers. So I opened up the laptop, went to Hulu, and watched an episode of "Bones." It was a little jumpy, but overall I enjoyed it. And I really just needed it for background, so it didn't bother me to miss a word here or there.

I think we gave up DirecTV at the end of August, so it's been almost a month sans a multitude of TV channels. So far, so good. I honestly feel like I don't notice it very much. I'm fine with watching every once in a while on the laptop. Maybe I'll feel differently once the fall TV season is in full swing, though....

You Know You're Getting Old When ....

... your sister IMs you that LBJ is doing a book signing at Borders and she is probably going to go.

You immediately picture Lyndon Baines Johnson instead of LeBron James.














Photo credit: wikipedia.org

The Great TV Experiment

We finally did it: we got rid of our DirecTV. When we moved to Cleveland, Keith had stipulated that we get DirecTV so that he could watch Bengals and Reds games. I thought it was a fair trade.

But it eats up a big chunk of our monthly budget. And lately, we really haven't been watching much TV at all. Since we don't allow Eleanor to watch TV yet, that means we don't watch TV. We could in the evenings, after Eleanor is in bed, but there never seems to be any time. We are too busy cleaning up the kitchen, getting ready for the day tomorrow, working out .... trying to fit in everything else that happens in our lives that does not rely on Eleanor's presence. So we have a huge backlog of shows on our DVR and it starts to feel more like work to keep up with them than entertainment.

I left the decision up to Keith, since he is more of the TV watcher than I am. I've maintained for many years that I could do without TV. So just a few weeks ago, he pulled the plug and cancelled the service. Now we have just the basic stations that we can pick up with the digital tuner. The living room TV is actually useless for anything except movies, because it doesn't have a digital tuner.

I'm a little nervous because now I need to put my money where my mouth is. Do I really watch as little TV as I think? How will I manage without Project Runway? We can still watch TV on the Internet with Hulu and in "real time" (whatever that is—I can't even remember!) ... but I will miss the DVR, I'm sure.

On the other hand, I'm pretty excited. We've put off getting rid of the DirecTV for a long time because we were scared. Could we do it? I couldn't even imagine?!? But now we'll find out.

Making the Switch

It's about that time of year. I'm making the switch from iced tea to delicious, warm-your-toes hot tea.

Iced tea is fine, as beverages go. It offers a shot of caffeine with a hint of bitterness. No calories, which is also a good thing.

But hot tea is so much more. Holding a steaming mug on a cold day is divine. I think it has to do with the forced anticipation of refreshment as I'm waiting for the tea to cool enough to drink. I look forward to drinking it long before the first sip actually takes place. Plus, for whatever reason I feel like the flavors are more intense. Even though I use the same tea bags to make iced tea as I do for hot tea, I find the flavor of hot tea much more appealing.

Or maybe it's all in my head. Maybe it has nothing to do with the beverage, but the fact that the switch coincides with my favorite season, Fall. No matter what the reason, I'm looking forward to getting my tea mugs back out and switching the kettle on after my early morning runs!

In the Spotlight

So if I can harp on it just one more time, I broke my finger two years ago while running before dawn. That put me off running before work for awhile. (Plus, you know, pregnancy and then having a baby to care for and all.)

But recently, I decided to start running early in the day again. Mostly because of that whole baby thing; it's really the only time that I can count on it happening. I was excited, but nervous. What if I fell and broke my wrist this time. How stupid would I seem THEN?!? To do it once is understandable. But twice is a little ridiculous.

I did run a few times when it was still dark out, and I just felt so vulnerable. I spent the whole time looking at my feet. Was that a shadow? Or is my foot about to be swallowed by a mammoth pothole? I was happy to be getting out again, but it wasn't the most enjoyable experience ever.

But then I remembered that, for his birthday, my Mother-in-law gave Keith a running headlamp. He's never worn it (I guess, for some reason, he feels it's unnecessary when he runs downtown on his lunch hour). So I had to hound him to dig it up, but he found it eventually. And wow! What a difference it makes.

I feel so much better and more secure running with my very own headlight. Literally. So far I've chosen to use the one that clips onto the underside of a baseball hat brim, which somehow seems slightly less dorky looking than the contraption that actually straps directly to your head.

There are a few things that I need to keep in mind, however:

1. I can't look other runners in the eyes and nod a friendly "Hello!" without blinding them.
2. I feel bad for Beckett when he has to make a pitstop, because I'm watching and waiting for him to finish (especially if it's something I'm going to have to pick up), and that means he is in a spotlight of sorts. No privacy here!
3. I can't try to peer into softly lit windows without giving away my voyeuristic tendencies. This morning I was running past this gorgeous mansion that I am always curious about. I fantasize about moving in there—there's even a second apartment on the grounds, above the garage and just past the pool, where visitors could stay or that could become my writing nook. (Because of course, for us to move into this place either Keith would have to create a bestselling web app or iPod app or I would have to write The Great American Novel.) So anyway, this morning I was running past about 5:45am and I saw a light on. Could I see inside? What was the decor like? Was it one of the owners that was up already? Or do they actually have servants? As I turned to get a better look, I saw the beam of my headlamp flash over the curb, up over the lush green grass and well-trimmed shrubberies, and into the window itself. I quickly looked back at my feet and picked up the pace.

Macabre, But Sensible

Over the weekend, Keith and I were running some errands. We were stopped at a red light next to the entrance to a large cemetery, and I glanced over and saw a sign in the window of the offices. It said:

Free Fill Dirt.

and listed a phone number.

I had never really thought about it, although it makes sense they'd have plenty of high quality dirt to give away. Still gives me the chills, though.

Read to Write

I think the first couple weeks of class have gone well. We're settling into more of a routine, and I am starting to actually believe that I am a professor. Today will be their first graded assignment, though, which may change the equation a bit. I'm not used to being the bad guy, so I'm concerned about flunking students if their work isn't up to the necessary standard. I guess I should wait to worry about that until they actually turn in their first essay, though.

On several occasions, I've tried to emphasis how important it is to read to become a good writer. No matter what you type of literature you prefer, reading will ALWAYS make you a better writer, especially when it comes to grammar and punctuation. As you see where commas go, you will subconsciously get a feel for when a comma is needed or not.

I'm not sure that they are convinced, though. It feels like a bit of a hopeless task. How can you imbue college students with a love of reading if it isn't there already? If they've spent most of their lives thinking that reading was something boring and dry, assigned by teachers and to be avoided whenever possible?

Final Camping Trip of the Year

Last weekend, we took Eleanor on what was probably our final camping trip of the year. We drove South, as did my parents, and met Keith's parents in the middle of Ohio. It was a grandparent extravaganza! Eleanor really enjoyed having adoring grandparents at every turn, admiring her walking, telling her how smart she is, always ready to give a hug, kiss, or a finger to hold onto when the ground gets rough.

I'm sad that the camping season is over. We've taken Eleanor camping 4 times this year, and have had a wonderful time. She loves exploring, staying up by the fire, and sleeping with us in the tent. When she wakes up in the morning and realizes Keith and I are right there next to her ... AND the dog is there, she's in heaven!

The end of one season now automatically brings my mind to the next year. The next time we take her camping, she will be nearly 2 years old. What will she be doing? What will be her favorite part of camping then? How many words will she know? She is changing so fast these days. I look forward to the Eleanor of next year, but I know I will miss today's Eleanor, too.

Home Improvement on Speed: New Patio

A few years ago, Keith and my Dad built a deck in the backyard. It's a beautiful deck, but it's kinda marooned in the yard. Because of the location of the back porch, plus the air conditioner next to the porch, it wasn't possible to build it right next to the house. So for 2 years, it has been on its own. An island, as it were. The plan was always to add in a patio that connected the back porch to the deck, tying it all together and also giving us a space to put the grill AND get rid of the bare patch of dirt that is Beckett's launching pad into the rest of the yard for his epic squirrel chases.

A few weeks ago, it happened! We decided the project was on, and Keith turned into a machine. We chose some pavers, and Keith ordered them plus all the gravel, sand, etc. that would be needed. It showed up at our house on Saturday morning. Keith and my Dad spent all day Saturday digging out the grass, dirt, etc. so the site was ready on Sunday to start laying the gravel and then pavers down.

On Sunday it was a group effort: Keith, Dad, and brother-in-law Josh worked on the patio while I and my sister Amy worked on the flower/ivy bed nearby, clearing out loose pebbles from the previous deck project, pulling up weeds, and bringing in new dirt and plants. Erin and my Mom watched the babies and helped with some indoor projects. And also fed us, which is very important:)

(Sidenote: Have I ever mentioned how nice it is to live near your family? I highly recommend it for many reasons, and large home improvement projects is definitely high on the list!)

By Sunday evening, nearly everything was finished except for a few pavers that needed to be cut to fit the angled sides. Keith worked on it some Monday night, and my Dad came back over on Wednesday evening and they finished cutting/placing pavers and added the finishing sand to lock everything in place.



Now that the project is over, it's hard to believe it took us so long to get it started. It makes a huge difference, and the deck actually looks like it belongs there and is a natural extension of the house. The main obstacle to us tackling this project wasn't time and effort, but money. Even so, I'm glad we finally bit the bullet and just went ahead and did it. Just in time for gathering around the fire pit on the patio in cool weather!

A Break from Home Sweet Home

Why is it that I can never get anything done at home? I dream of the day that home is actually an oasis from the world, instead of being the place that populates the majority of my to-do lists.

Right now I'm at a coffee shop 5 minutes from home, and I'm happy and feeling productive. I don't care that there's some crumbs on the floor or drinks to be made, because it's not my work to do!

When did home switch from being restful to being the source of my stress? It probably started the day we moved out of the rented apartment into our first house .... and of course, got markedly more noticeable after Eleanor was born.

Someday, I will accept that I am not superwoman. With one child, a dog, a cat, and a penchant for buying books ... my home will never be a spotless showcase. I will learn to look past the piles of unopened mail and dirty dishes, and just enjoy playing with Eleanor or allow myself to put my feet up at the end of a long day and read a chapter (or two, or three, well maybe just one more ....) without the oppressive guilt of undone laundry and unswept floors pressing down on me.

On the other hand, I also think that someday, I will be able to get more down. There's already a huge difference between this time last year, when Eleanor was only a month old, and today. Back then, I was lucky if I was dressed and teeth brushed by the time Keith got home from work. (And sometimes, it was a race to make it!) Now, that is generally a given. I am running more regularly. The fridge is regularly stocked and we aren't eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches at 10pm because we never got around to making dinner. Nor are we picking clothes up off the floor and dusting them off, declaring them "good enough" because there's just no time for laundry. So there's been improvement in our abilities to be good parents AND responsible adults, and I think it will continue to improve. Someday, I WILL reorganize the living room so everything that is shoved on the top shelf out of baby's way will actually have a home. I will start projects and finish them in something approximating a timely manner.

I think it's a matter of balance. Of meeting somewhere in the middle. Most days, I will do the dishes and be able to plan meals for the next day while throwing in a load of laundry and still make it to bed at a reasonable hour. On the days when I can't get everything done and am feeling overwhelmed, I need to allow myself the time to decompress and put off the to-do list until tomorrow.

Someday I will have that ebb and flow, the give and take between productive days and the days when I'm just getting by. And, on the rough days, I'll accept things a bit more readily because I will be confident that the next day or the day after that will be easier.

Someday, I won't have to go to the coffee shop to sit and think and not be distracted by EVERYTHING THAT MUST BE DONE BY ME ASAP. Someday, my home will once again be my restful oasis.

Google Followers

I noticed that last week I got two new followers. Welcome, Eleanor (what a beautiful name!;) and Jennifer! I hope you enjoy Gapesnest.

To be honest, I'm not very savvy on the whole Follower widget. How is it different from just using Google Reader? Is it just that others can see what blogs you follow? A combination of a feed reader and a blog roll, perhaps?

If you use Follower, I'd be interested to hear why you like it!

Class Came up a Little Short

It was not the most auspicious beginning to a teaching career ever. I was five minutes late to class; all the students were already seated and waiting. As soon as I rushed into the classroom—having just picked up the copies of the syllabus hot off the presses—I swear I could feel the sweat pouring off me, because of nerves. "Just keep your arms by your side and no one will notice," I told myself, two minutes before I reached up to write on the board.

Other than one student who had a career in industry and is coming back to school for a career change, I think the entire class is fresh out of high school. Which is good, because it makes me feel like more of an authority. But it makes me feel old when I realize that I'm 13 years older than my students. 13 years! When I was their age, they were just starting kindergarten.

The lesson I had prepared went pretty well, I think. There was more class participation than I was expecting, which I think is a good sign for the rest of the semester. If they're willing to talk on the first day when they don't know anyone, there should be some lively class discussions down the road.

My mentor professor, who has been teaching this class for several years, did warn me that it's highly unlikely my entire class will pass. It's hard to look around at my new students and wonder who will be the one(s) to not make it. Him in the corner? Her in the second row?

I had tried to plan the class to the minute, to calm my nerves. We'd spend 5 minutes taking attendance, 10 minutes on the syllabus, 10 minutes on writing, then 10 minutes discussing the writing .... I thought it might be a stretch to get it all in, but I thought it would be better to be overprepared than run out of things to work on.

Fast forward to the end of my lesson plan for the day. As I'm wrapping up my final points, I realize there's nearly 40 minutes left in the class. 40 minutes! Class is supposed to be 2 hours long, so that's a good chunk of time (36% of class, actually). But it's too late. I know I can't come up with another 40 minutes of material on the fly. So I dismiss them to have extra time for reading, purchasing the book .... doing something vaguely class-related.

When class was over, I was so relieved. I made it through the first day! Now I just have to go through it all again tomorrow. And Friday. And next week .... although at some point, I'll start to feel a little more prepared and authoritative, right?

To-do: Break Another Finger

I really don't get search engines sometimes. Every once in awhile, I'll wander over to Site Meter to see what my stats are like. I like to view recent visitors by location, to see where in the world my blog is being read.

Nine times out of 10, when it's a place I'm unfamiliar with and I'm not expecting on the list, the details will reveal that this person mistakenly ended up on my blog through a search for random terms, and stayed a grand total of zero seconds. (I really must change the design if it's so off-putting they leave in less than a second, because surely no one has time to be offended by the writing yet.)

Roughly 99.9% of those searches? They reference broken fingers in some way, and point back to when I broke my finger almost 2 years ago. Two years ago! And that's still generating more traffic than anything I've written since? Oh wait, sometimes the searches refer to some technical point about pregnancy like gestational diabetes or ultrasound images.

But mostly, it's the broken finger. So I'll just type that phrase in here a few more times, maybe describe some symptoms like bruising or feeling nauseous ... and we'll see what happens with the traffic! And rest assured, if I have any other exciting ailments or injuries, I'll be sure to tell you about them in detail.

You May Call Me "Professor"

I'm happy to say that I'm making a big change. Next week will be my last week as an office manager, and my first week as a part-time English professor at a community college. I will also work as a tutor in their drop-in writing center.

This has been in the works for quite some time, but I didn't really believe it was going to happen. For many months now, I've been working part-time at a job that should be full-time. I had hoped that it could be turned into a job-share position, where 2 people work the full 40 hours. But as time went on, it looked like that wasn't going to happen and I was going to need to find something else.

But what? I really didn't want to work any more than I am currently—I was willing to be flexible on type of work, salary (to a point!), work time of day .... but spending more time away from Eleanor is one area that I wouldn't budge. So I've been stressing out over it a lot since January.

But slowly, things fell into place. We got to know some neighbors—a husband and wife who were both English majors, as well. He is a full-time, tenured English professor at this community college. Keith was doing a little looking around online and saw the posting for a part-time adjunct, and the next time I ran into the neighbor while we were both walking with our daughters, I asked his opinion about it. He got me in touch with the right people and reassured me when I didn't hear anything for months that it wasn't a bad sign, it's just a slow process.

And finally, it's happening. I'm wrapping up projects at my office, and planning my syllabus for class. I have a lot of anxiety right now, but I can tell that it's the good kind of anxiety. Anxiety about making a large life change .... one that is daunting from here, but I know that it will be a good, positive thing in the long run.

Wish me luck!

A Momentous First: Avoiding Bedtime

Eleanor cracked me up the other night. She knows the sign language for "diaper"' and "all done" (like when she's finished eating). Friday night we had friends over for dinner and she was not very happy about going to bed while there was so much going on. But we went upstairs and I gave her a bottle and read a few books and was singing her to sleep. After much squirming she settled down and rested her head on my shoulder.

She suddenly lifted her head and patted her chest (her modified sign for "diaper"). I said no, we had just changed her diaper and it was fine. She laid her head back down, but it popped up again a moment later as she gave me the sign for "all done"—hands out to the side, palms up.

She looked so hopeful. Like, I can communicate! She must obey my wishes! It was hard not to laugh, but I sternly told her that she was not "all done" with going to bed, and she wasn't going to get out of it. Finally she settled down and went to sleep with just a short cry of protest when I laid her in the crib.

I'm sure this is only the first of many many times that she'll try to put off bedtime. Such an exciting development in communication .... that I'll probably be cursing by next week!

Greeting the Dawn

At 5:45 this morning, it was still dark out. I finished lacing up my shoes, turned on my iPod, and leashed up Beckett for our morning run.

I used to really enjoy running before work. Mondays, Wednesday, Fridays, Beckett and I would get up and head out for 3-5 miles and be back in time for me to shower, get dressed, and still be only my typical 10 minutes late to work. As long as I could drag myself out of bed, it was a great way to start the day.

But then I broke my finger, tripping in the pre-dawn darkness. And then I got pregnant and wasn't running anymore. And then I had Eleanor and REALLY wasn't running anymore. Or walking the dog, or sleeping regular, or anything else that defines the parameters of a normal, balanced life.

Slowly over the past year, I've been reclaiming some normal activities. Sleep came first, because our wonderful daughter is a great sleeper. Then occasionally walking the dog, working part-time, and even the rare occasion of hanging out with friends or going on a date with Keith. Finally, in the past few weeks, I've been making much more of an effort to run regularly.

To be honest, it hasn't been working that well. My long runs on the weekend get bumped because of going out of town, camping, etc. And it's still hard to fit in the weekday runs, even being home all day on Wednesdays and Fridays. The problem, I've decided this week, is that Eleanor is still too young to really enjoy the running stroller. When she's awake, she wants to be on the move. She doesn't want to be kicked back, taking in the scenery. And I can only take her when she's very awake, otherwise she'll fall asleep for 15 minutes during the run and then refuse to take her nap at home, which should actually be 1-2 hours. Not good.

I decided this last Friday when, for the 3rd time in a row, she got fussy after 20 minutes in the running stroller. The other two times I managed to placate her enough to make it to the end of the run. But trying to sing "Short Skirt / Long Jacket" while powering up a hill is not my idea of a good time. On Friday, I just gave up and headed for home, very frustrated.

So, although I've been avoiding it for some time, I've finally come to the conclusion that, if I want to be certain of my weekday runs, I'll have to do them in the morning before she wakes up. This means getting out of bed by 5:30am. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but now that I've made that decision, I'm really excited about it.

I thought Beckett might be slow to catch on. I figured today I would have to roust his sleepy butt out of bed and shove him out the door, and maybe by Friday he'd be back into the swing of things. But he surprised me by hopping out of bed while I was brushing my teeth, and waiting for me at the back door when I came down the stairs. I think he missed our morning runs even more than I did!

The sky was just starting to lighten at the edges when we walked down the driveway and headed away from the house. I think I may have to steal Keith's headlamp to feel confident I won't have another spectacular wipe-out, as the days are only going to get shorter. But by the time we were home, the sky was light, I was tired but happy, and Beckett was ready for water and food.

I got a quick shower, since Eleanor was already talking to herself by the time I headed upstairs. I threw on some clothes and, for the first time in a long time, was ready to greet Eleanor cheerfully and happy that I already had my run in.

I think this is going to be a good thing. I had forgotten the difficulty of picking up a pile of steaming dog poop in the pre-dawn light. But other than that, I had a great time!

Dog Days of Summer

A few years ago, my family all met up at Findley State Park for a weekend of camping and relaxing.

Little did we know, we just happened to pick the one weekend per year that is the Dog Gone Campout, where everyone brings their furry friends and there's "games, crafts, and demonstrations geared to dogs." It was insanity. So many dogs everyone. And Beckett and his cousins, Scout and Bailey, had to bark at every single one that passed within 25 feet of our campsite.

We did partake in the games, running Beckett and Bailey through an obstacle course and letting them swim after a toy. And it was nice that the campground was filled with other dog-loving campers, so our canine's outbursts were very well tolerated. But even so, if I had to do it all over again, I think I would stay away from the park for that annual event.

Except, we went camping at Findley this past weekend .... and it somehow managed to collide with their Dog Gone Campout weekend AGAIN!! I'm not sure if we've even camped once at Findley since the last doggie extravaganza, and we just happen to pick that same weekend.

Beckett barked and strained so much at his chain that, after one night, he was hoarse. And then it started to rain. My sisters and brother-in-law had already left on Friday night. Keith and I were planning on leaving Saturday anyway, but with the dogs and the weather, my parents decided to join us, too.

We always enjoy sitting around the campfire and catching up, but this was not the most relaxing camping trip of all-time. When we got back home, I drank in the peace and quiet. For a few moments at least, until Beckett ran to the front window and barked at the dog walking on the far sidewalk, across the street.

Happy Birthday, Beckett!

Beckett also enjoyed Eleanor's birthday. We ended up taking all of the presents outside, so everyone could gather loosely around the deck and either watch Eleanor (me and Keith, for the most part) opening her presents, or play. After opening the presents, we brought out the cake and homemade ice cream and Eleanor's high chair and large bib for her first taste of cake.

Keith was getting Eleanor situated in the high chair and I started cutting up pieces of cake, to be served with the ice cream. Keith's cousin started making her way around the deck, taking orders. Plates with cake started lining the bench, patiently awaiting ice cream and distribution to party goers.

And Beckett saw his opportunity. He came up out of nowhere, grabbed an innocent piece of chocolate cake, and gobbled it right down. Before Eleanor or anyone else had even tasted the cake.

He was, as always, unrepentant. I guess I should just be glad that it was only a piece of cake, and he wasn't on top of the table eating the whole entire cake in one go. It's been known to happen!

Such a Poor Child

On the morning of Eleanor's birthday party, there was a lot to be done. Final cleaning, cooking, organizing, etc. So of course, on her big day, I'm just trying to keep her occupied for a few minutes so I can actually get something done.

We were in the kitchen at one point, and I ended up handing her a spoon to keep her occupied. Shortly after that, my in-laws unveiled one of her first presents: They gave her the little rocking chair that they had bought for Keith when he was one-year-old.

We took many pictures of Eleanor sitting in the chair for the first time. And in all of those pictures, she is chewing on that spoon.

My brother-in-law, Jeremy, observed, "You know she's going to look back at these pictures and claim that you never gave her any toys. She had to chew on a spoon!"

So, future Eleanor, please note the sideboard in the picture below, piled high with presents on your 1-year birthday. You also can't see many of the larger presents that are on the floor around the sideboard and in the other room. We, and your family and friends, gave you many presents! If you choose to chew on a spoon instead, that's your choice. But I swear, you do have options.