Thomas and Julie playing together

This is the cutest thing I've ever seen that's on youtube, but astoundingly, it's probably not the cutest thing I've seen this week.

Felicitous diction 1: No, It's Not Going to Start With Jane Austen.

Now that I'm (snicker) a professional blogger, I need some more blogging discipline. And since the audience here is way more homey and less critical, I think I'll warm up my blogging discipline at the expense of my friends. And since it's hard to justify blogging about my academic obsession here (since I'm obliged to it there), I decided to do something off-the-cuff.

Hence, a new (daily? it could be daily! we'll have to see!) series: Things I Like To Read. See that carefully crafted thematic territory? You don't? Well, I said off the cuff.

Part 1 of the series will focus on one of my pets about literature: felicitous diction. I go crazy for felicitous diction.

The funny thing about really spine-tingling word choice, for me, is that I sometimes don't notice a writer has it until the second, third, or fifth time through a novel. But if it's there, I usually notice it in spades once I get past the third reading. I'm probably going to concentrate on one book at a time here, just introducing a representative example and explaining why it is, to my ears, felicitous diction. At the end I'll explain why felicitous diction is so key to my literary appetite.

1.1: No, It's Not Going to Start With Jane Austen. (But Yes, It Will Probably End There.)

Why not Jane Austen? Well, because it's fitting (for Deep Thematic Reasons that are totally half-baked at this time, and perhaps even because it's off-the-cuff) to start with felicitous diction in some of the earliest books I remember reading. Yes, children's literature.

I actually didn't have as many memories of picture books as some other people I know, before I had my own kids. I'm certain I could count on one hand the books I really remembered something of (and yes, that counts Dr. Seuss). The two that have memorable, felicitous diction are not, as one might expect, catchy poetry. They are poetic, but not poetry.

The Poky Little Puppy. The funny thing about this choice is it's hardly anything but felicitous diction, from "Five little puppies dug a hole under a fence and went for a walk in the wide, wide world" all the way to "No desserts EVER unless puppies NEVER dig holes under this fence again!" For me, at least at age 3 or 4, it was not the story (such as it was) that kept this treasure going (and I wore it out). No, it was that one line:

And down they went to see, roly-poly, pell-mell, tumble-bumble, till they came to the green grass, and there they stopped short.

Why (in retrospect) was this felicitous diction? Well, it has alliteration and assonance in spades, complete with some complex alliteration in the repetition of p- and b- sounds. It had enough familiar words to clue me in to the meaning ("roly", "tumble") but one completely opaque set ("pell-mell"). And the rhythm of it sounded like overeager puppies bouncing down a hill: beginning with liquids and a little bump, continuing with the short abrupt bouncing of "pell-mell", and finishing with a fully satisfying "tumble-bumble".

I actually remembered this phrase at 27 and bought my son the book anticipating reading him that exact phrase. It never disappoints.

Pray Tell: Mandatum novum

Mandatum novum: Holy Thursday at St Augustine's Church in Gainesville, Florida

In which I reminisce and reflect pretty much at random.

One moment

Sharing with someone from another culture can make you see things in a new way. We had Japanese exchange students staying with us this weekend. They were wonderful and we had a great time together -- it's hard to believe that Friday I didn't know either of them.

Today, at the park, watching Julie play in the sand, I tried to explain to them why Matt kept looking at his cell phone. "The health care bill," I began, "they're voting on it today."

"Uh?"

I looked to Matt for help. "In Japan, you have, uh, universal health care, yes? Everyone can get health care, no matter whether you can pay for it or not?"

"Uh, yes?"

"Well, we don't have that here in America. Some people here don't have health insurance, and they can't afford some kinds of medical care."

Gasps. "Ohh! Really?"

"They -- our Congress? -- they are voting on it today. They say, 'yes, health care!' or 'no, no health care!'"

"Everyone? Everyone votes?"

"No, no, Congress. We vote for them, and then they vote for everyone."

"Oh." They look thoughtful. They look over at Matt, who's now following the dog across the park. The conversation drifts, and I think about how big the world can be.

One new

Fun
Originally uploaded by kim belcher

Juliana's birthday party, which we had at Mongo's Grill in St Cloud, was a blast. I didn't do much planning ahead this time -- I didn't even make reservations -- but everyone had a great time, the food was excellent, and things were very low key. (Just right for my girl.)

Julie loved having a party, especially getting a bunch of attention from a lot of her little friends (see the other pictures on Flickr). I made the cake: a polar bear wearing a dress to match Julie's (which I found at Once Upon a Child). Thomas picked out some clothes to match it too! He made her a photo mat which I'm planning to fill with this photo. Maybe I'll take a picture once I have it printed and mounted and post that here too.

One old

I was looking at some older pictures today and was suddenly struck by this one, from July, because Paci's expression, attitude, and posture here are almost exactly like the very first time I saw her, in the humane society. I think she was sitting, not lying ready to spring up like that, but the combination of intelligence and readiness really struck me. She really looked at me just like this, like we knew each other. Look at those eyes and ears. You know you would have taken her home too.

"A hunger for the fast" at PrayTell

A brief reflection on the Ash Wednesday mass I attended this evening:

http://www.praytellblog.com/index.php/2010/02/18/a-hunger-for-the-fast/

PrayTell post on medieval Book of Hours available for viewing online

Not much I'm offering but a link over there, but here it is anyway.

http://www.praytellblog.com/index.php/2010/01/25/catherine-of-cleves-prayerbook-available-online/

My first post on PrayTell

The “Santa vigil” and principles for engaging young Christians in liturgy

Is this a good way to let you all know I've made a post over there, or would you rather I remained silent?

New liturgy blog organized by Liturgical Press

I thought it best to announce here my presence on a brand-new liturgy blog, Pray Tell. The blog is cosponsored by St John's School of Theology • Seminary and Liturgical Press.

The blog is intended to be a moderate blog on the liturgy whose contributors are well-informed of liturgical history, theory, and practice. It is inspired by the liturgical movement and by St John's place in that movement. I do not know what it will eventually become, but I invite you to come share in its becoming and find out.

A thought on copyright protection

You all know I'm interested in copyright and its limitations.

Every semester I end up asking students if I can use their papers, essays, or assignments as an example for my future classes. Almost every time, they agree wholeheartedly but choose to be anonymous.

I think it's interesting that they are more interested in contributing to the common good (and in the affirmation of their work that it entails) than they are in getting credit for it. This also means that no one has to feel singled out or embarrassed. Ideally, at least.

The primary motivation for creative work is to find readers for that creative work.

Picture interlude

Some great new pictures of the kids.

They went as Boowa and Kwala (kinda) for Halloween. Boowa and Kwala are from Thomas's favorite website. Julie pulled off her Kwala ears almost immediately, so she's really just a duck, but Thomas still thought she was Kwala.

Leaves are, apparently, amazing.

Full length of Julie's cute new dress.

Love.

After all that, this is no wonder.

Immunology for three year olds

Friday I had to take Thomas to a doctor in the twin cities. The ped specialty clinic there (where he goes for cardiology) was offering H1N1 vaccine for very high risk patients, so we were fortuitously able to get it. Unfortunately, Matt had reassured Thomas that this doctor visit would not include shots, so I had to explain to him why exactly we were getting one after all. I suppose I could have resorted to bribery, trickery, or because-I-said-so, but instead I decided to try science.

Not just science, of course. Science and storytelling.

"Well, did you know you have these munchy-munch cells in your body that like to eat germs?"

With seasonal monster impressions, I acted out the mission of these cells -- a term we conveniently left undefined, as I'm not sure Thomas is ready for cell theory -- to find all the cells in the body that are Not Thomas. When they find a cell that's Not Thomas, they know it's a germ, so they gobble it right up -- nom nom nom nom. But sometimes these cells need a little help knowing what kind of cells they're looking for, so we have medicine that gives them a heads-up about new germs that they might need to eat.

He was so enchanted by this cool fairy tale going on inside his body that he first declared that his shot "didn't hurt at all anymore," then clarified by stating that it was still working. We ended up play-acting germ-eating cells at Pizza Hut with a puppet I improvised out of a treat bag and his candy that he got that evening. (Puppet asks: "is this a germ?" Thomas says, squeaking with half-joking, half-real indignation, "No! That's my candy!" "Are you sure -- nom nom nom..." Squealing giggles.) I think half the kids in the restaurant were either covertly or overtly watching this. So now I know how to explain the rest of his vaccines. Too bad it won't work on Julie yet.

Unfortunately, Thomas woke up today with a fever. I hope we didn't get that flu shot just a bit too late!

When I explain to Thomas these days, I'm astounded by how much he already knows. I already feel like we're just "filling in the gaps" -- we're grouting, not tiling, in his surface of world-knowledge. He can pull out relevant detail to fill in absolutely everything we try to tell him about, either from his real-life experience or from books. Amazing.

Happy birthday?

My birthday is such an ambivalent experience. Every year it's full of fragmented, terrible, involuntary memories of that day that I almost lost my son. Moments when I almost made the wrong decision -- the things that could have happened. The light I accidentally ran on the way to the hospital (did this make the difference?) -- guilt over the moments before I realized there was something wrong (how could I have taken him out to breakfast?) -- the conversation with Matt about the hospital -- the deep embarrassment that I was surely overreacting -- the terror of the trauma room -- the dimly remembered days of uncertainty -- my hands, strangely empty without him, on the back of the cold pews in the church down the street from the hospital. The taste of fear.

I can't quite escape it even now. I felt guilty about leaving Julie at day care today. Even though I know she is fine, I am irrationally worried about her. She wore the same coat to school that Thomas wore to the hospital three years ago. We have unseasonable cold weather just like that day. I shouldn't have let her out of my sight.

That way lies madness, and I know tomorrow will be fine.

Turning 30 doesn't make me feel any older. It's that 27th birthday that is still aging me.

Baby days

Julie's growing up so fast that sometimes it feels like her babyhood is slipping away -- or falling off, maybe, shed like skin. Just in the past couple weeks she's started creeping, getting on her hands and knees, and rocking. She's fascinated by everything and can play happily with almost anything for 20, 30 minutes. Tonight she sat in her high chair while I sang her nursery rhymes and cleaned the kitchen. I put coins and tiny toys in 3 of her hospital 2.5 oz bottles and let her shake them and throw them on the floor. I was putting the dishes away, singing,

"Thomas put the kettle on,
Thomas put the kettle on,
Thomas put the kettle on,
We'll all have tea.

"Julie take it off again,
Julie take it off again,
Julie take it off again,
They've all gone away."

Every time I got to her name, she'd look up and grin at me. Thomas, meanwhile, (who by the way is in love with this version of Mother Goose, and has some surprising favorites, including the above rhyme, undoctored (and further by the way the Old Mother Hubbard rhyme in that book has some chokingly funny art)) is taking a bath. He's practicing for upcoming swim lessons, trying to put his whole face underwater even though he's always been terrified of water on his face. He's missing the song, but he makes it out to play Julie's game with her, picking up the impromptu rattles every time she drops them.

Julie has a favorite bedtime book now too -- it's Bear Snores On, one of Thomas's all-time toddler favorites (good gift, godparents!). Sometimes all three of us sit in the rocking chair together and read it; sometimes it's just me and Julie while Thomas is in his own room having his own nighttime ritual. The poetry of Bear Snores On has always made it one of my favorites, and there are a couple of points that already make Julie giggle out loud, as she's patting the book, hard, with two hands, in that "doesn't know quite how to make the individual digits move separately" way she'll lose so soon.

After this book and a song, she'll often go right to sleep on her own -- a feat Thomas still has only replicated a few times. They're so different!

In food, too, Julie's "infant days" seem to be ending. She eats lots of foods now. She's funny in that a few times she's eaten a whole bowl of food, while making a weird "ehh" face at every bite. So far she's had apples (yes, delicate pink!), sweet potatoes, pears, and a little bit of peaches, as well as cereal. I also have some local beets and green beans frozen, even though she probably won't be ready for those foods for another month.

One thing we never thought to do with Thomas was to give him Cheerios to play with while we ate long before he was able to actually pick them up. We've been doing this with Julie and she's hilarious -- through incredible, diligent, and constant effort, she usually manages to grasp one between her finger and thumb over the course of our meal. Then she brings it up in front of her face and stares at it, puzzled. She will furrow her brows a bit, as if she's wondering why she's done this, and then painstakingly move her hand off the high chair tray, and drop the Cheerio on the floor, where Paci has been patiently waiting. Julie seems to think that this is her task and the purpose of all these Cheerios, like isn't it nice of mom to let me give Paci all this dog food. She has not once tried to put a Cheerio in her mouth.

Speaking of which, the other thing fun about this stage is that we have finally achieved fully mutual dog-baby adoration and fascination. Julie watches Paci constantly, and intermittently tries to follow her (unsuccessfully, but not for long). She's also learned the trick -- and if you're a microbe-phobe, you may want to skip this sentence -- of smearing her hand in her food and holding it down for Paci to lick.

Today while I was sorting things in Julie's room she was playing on the floor and managed to rock, roll, and creep her way to an adamantly not-baby-friendly box of stuff. Catch-all box, one of those ones full of things I don't need but haven't made time to sort and throw out. I was right next to her, so waited to see what she'd do with the stuff. First, pencils. I've never seen so much excitement about pencils. Did you know you can hold them at this end? And that end! And you can wave them. And roll them on the floor. And scrape with them. And turn them around and around. And -- hey, this box makes a nice noise when I shake it. What are all those shiny things in there? I'm going to get one out. Got -- no, it's -- well, this is good enough; what is this thing?

She took things out of the box and put them back, never tiring of the rattling sound it all made, until I was sick of cleaning the room and took her with me to find out what was happening downstairs.

And all this happened today.

New school

Thomas is at his last day of orientation at Montessori school. He's been so excited that he doesn't remember to say goodbye to us (so much for separation anxiety!). This morning he got out of the car and grabbed his teacher's hand, who noticed he was chewing the last bite of his breakfast -- which he had to eat in the car due to a temper tantrum over my only making him half as much as he wanted.

"Bye, Thomas, have fun today!" I told him.

He turned to face me and hesitated a moment. He thought about running back over to give me a kiss and a hug, but he was on his way to Class, in a bit of a hurry here give him a break. Then he thought about telling me some variation on "you too, mama," but he's been in what I think of as a "sophisticated speaking phase," meaning that he won't say anything unless he can say it like a grownup would. So this would mean he would have had to say, "Bye, mama, you have fun today too!" and possibly, that would not have satisfied his stringent requirements for sentence complexity. In any case, his mouth was still full of peanut butter and jelly on toast. So he altered his design.

"Ok."

Then he turned and ran up the steps.

Thomas's birthday pictures

I am way, and I mean WAY, overdue for some picture updates. People want to see the new place, but I can't take the pictures they want to see because all the cameras are full.

(Which is really a relief because it gives me a chance to try to make the place presentable before I take them. So far we've bought some furniture, and today we eliminated one pile of boxes. But in any case.)

I'm starting with the pictures from Thomas's birthday party: they're up on Flickr now.

We started out at an Italian restaurant on Navy Pier, where Thomas got to make his own pizza (his toppings: red peppers, his new favorite vegetable, mushrooms, and sausage). He did a great job topping the pizza, but was too excited to eat much. The rest of us got cavatappi with mushrooms in gorgonzola cheese sauce. Yummy.

We then went to the Children's Museum, where Thomas got to build a house with Matt. I had to come along and add a strut so it didn't fall down. He also got to draw with sidewalk chalk and play in a huge water playground, and a bunch of other things. It was a cool museum and an ideal place for a birthday party, because it was easy for all the kids of different ages to spread out and enjoy themselves.

By the time that was over, Thomas was falling asleep on my shoulder, but he desperately wanted to ride the Ferris wheel -- it was really the selling point for the whole birthday plan. We let him sleep while we stood in line, and then I talked and talked and talked at him as soon as we got close. Astoundingly, I managed to wake him up for the seven minutes of magic in the Chicago sky.

A birthday to remember.

I suspect these are less than half the pics. More coming in the future; keep an eye on the flickr set if you're curious.

Edit to add: Also, this. At lunch.

A happy halfer

Happy half-birthday Julie!

Julie turned 6 months old yesterday (had her first visit at her new doctor's office, which I like). Her present didn't come in until today: a Svan high chair. She loves it! She started banging on the tray with both hands as soon as we put her up where she could sturdily sit and see everything! And I love it because it's incredibly well-designed and well-made.

We're planning a little celebration this weekend: Thomas is going to help us make her first baby food, and we're all going to have cake. More pictures when I get my cameras' memory cards free again...

The secret is...

Thomas and I made raspberry shortcakes for dessert tonight. He was a bit ambivalent about the raspberries; "those are spicy," he announced when he saw them on his plate. He never really ate them (I think he doesn't like the texture), so I was trying to negotiate getting them myself after he was done gobbling up the sweet biscuits.

"Could I have one of your berries?" I asked.

He looks them over, apparently trying to decide. "You can have..." his finger drifts. "Actually, you can't have all of these."

"Can I have one of them?"

"No, you can't have any of my berries, but you can have some other berries."

This is the point at which Matt, holding the baby and trying to fend her busy fingers off his ceramic bowl, blatantly reaches over and drinks about half the orange juice out of Thomas's cup. Thomas apparently doesn't notice, involved in negotiations with me.

"I guess the secret is not to ask first," I say significantly, looking at Matt, but Thomas pipes up.

"No, the secret is, if you want orange juice, you can drink it out of my cup," he says with a wicked grin.

Matt and I both break out laughing. "Boy, he doesn't miss anything." He laughs gleefully at our appreciation. But I can't resist looking for more abuse. "Oh, is that the secret?"

"Yeah." Begins his sing-song: "Whoooo waaantts orrrange juuuice?"

"I do."

"Okay."

"Can I drink it out of your cup?"

"No, but you can drink it out of the orange juice bag!!!" Cackles with pleasure.

So I waited till he went to bed to nick the last five berries off his plate. Mom always wins.

Playtime

Julie is in that squirming on the floor mode. I put her down on a blanket while I was grading. She wiggled and squirmed until she had turned herself 90, then 180, then 270, then 300 degrees, made an adorable little coo (pleased with herself, I guess?), and then instantly fell asleep.

She's asleep on the floor now. Guess I should put her to bed.