avablog

It gaps right above the waist on my pants. I know it does this. I’ve known it since the first time I wore it, years ago. Yet I haven’t thrown it out or donated it somewhere. And I don’t mean it gaps a little. A child or dainty adult could slip his or her hand […]

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The lucky part being there was no break. Had I been playing this game of kickball with adults my own age rather than a bunch of 9-year-olds, I probably wouldn’t have felt compelled to dive for the catch. But these kids are in their formative years; if you can get to the ball, you get […]

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Leah went to change ECP’s diaper first thing this morning* and was confronted with a problem upon fastening him back up. Well, it was a problem for Leah, at least. For the boy’s part, he surely would’ve been happy to lie there on his back all day, “Little Em Em” standing at attention in all […]

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When I look at your adorable child, all I can think about is how much more adorable my children are. I understand it’s mostly just a physiological mechanism that defends me from facing the reality that my children may well, in fact, not be more adorable than your adorable child. So it’s not you. It’s […]

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Ava, You made my day today. Really, you made my life — again — but that’s what you always do.

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Does it ever go away? That passing feeling that the incredible little person standing in front of you couldn’t possibly have arisen out of your life? I get it a lot with Ava, and it’s not even so much upon hearing some particularly bright or funny thing she’s said. Mostly it’s just seeing her. The […]

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from de– + sperare to hope*: Photo: 2010 Eduardo Muñoz Ordoqui * For those of you who — like my wife — are wondering why this is here, please refer to the comments on this post.

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Sometimes, when I’m contemplating a blog post (which, honest, occurs much more frequently than the posting here suggests), I wonder if I dare delve as deeply into cliche as I have a mind to. I quietly debate the merits of cliche. And as you long-time readers know, I almost never pull myself out of this […]

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I have an inkling that it would be a lot easier to explain the birds and the bees to Ava right now than to do it when she’s 11. Or 13. I’m guessing that when she’s older, there’ll be the danger that she can get up from our talk, walk out the door, and put […]

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“Interesting” story today in the WSJ about the consequences of broad spectrum antibiotic use. My favorite bit? I’m so glad you asked.

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I miss all the good stuff. This morning, Ava came into our room when she got up so she could get some snuggles with Baby Brudder (she HAS to learn to say her th sounds someday). I got up to use the restroom, and while I was down the hall, I could hear L’s breathless […]

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“Three windbells cool the humid summertime; Clashing their shrilly sweet metallic chime.” —A Chime of Windbells This season always reminds me of falling in love with my husband. When we were first dating, we would take his dog, Maggie, for long walks through the dark, tree-lined streets–and down to the river–on warm summer nights. The […]

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I chatted briefly the other day at school pickup with the mother of one of Ava’s classmates. Turns out she had a friend who reads this blog (or maybe the other one). The mother had been describing Leah to her friend when she mentioned Ava’s name, and the acquaintance suddenly realized exactly who was being […]

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So this was a weird day. Emmett came home from the hospital, which was great and new and exciting. But two other events transpired today that got me thinking about the interconnectedness of the universe.

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Ava and I were sitting together on the porch yesterday, watching the rain and listening to birds while she munched on a popsicle (no, Firefox, I’m not going to capitalize “popsicle.” Grab a kleenex to wipe your tears).

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Alien hand syndrome masturbation “Don’t knock masturbation — it’s sex with someone I love.” –W. Allen ca. 1977

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Perineal massage: Si o no?

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To circumcise or not? A thought I’d not had on the matter before today, from this article: But once you and your penis are fully baked, the advantage of a foreskin is not clear. Some scientists speculate that it protected the prehistoric penis as it swung, naked, through thick forests and over tall grasses; and […]

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Sometimes I need to remind myself that this blog isn’t all about me. Or Leah. So I’ll try to put together a unicorn chaser here. Thanks to all those who commented on yesterday’s incendiary post; it’s always interesting to find the limits of acceptable public disclosure.

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