avablog

I need to make sure I always have my camera no more than 15 feet away. Last evening, Ava was sitting on the sofa, watching a video (AGAIN!), and the evening light through the west windows was just delicious. So I grabbed the Canon and started clicking away:

For those of you who care: Exposure: 1/15; ISO 200; f/1.8

Or at least you’d think so by the way pregnancy is spreading at my office. I just had a visit from one of my female colleagues from the department to inform me — officially — that she’s pregnant. Just into her second trimester. The other woman of breeding age amongst the researchers here is also pregnant, though she’s further along. I’m glad they’re in my department and not Leah’s; it’d be much more difficult for her to deal with pregnant women walking around all the time.
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This summer I’ll celebrate my 10th year at my current place of employ. As a show of (their) thanks, I get to choose a gift from a list of things like watches, toaster ovens, and multitools. I’ve narrowed down my group of potential selections to the following:

• Calphalon Stainless Steel Specialty Multi Pots. Includes 8-qt covered stock pot, steamer, and pasta insert. Impacted bonded heavy bottom for even heating. Dishwasher safe.
• Brinkmann Gourmet Charcoal Smoker/Grill. Features double-grill heat indicator, separate base-pan design, and two chrome-plated steel grills. Includes a sample of wood chunks.
• Shop-Vac 3.0 HP QuietPlus Series Wet/Dry Vacuum. Includes 7′ hose, reusable foam filter, five nozzle attachments, two extension wands, and onboard tool storage. Capacity: 6 gallons.
• Bear Jaws Multi-function Tool. Features knife, pliers, saw, can opener, three screwdrivers, metal and wood files, stainless steel construction, compact 4.5″ design, and nylon sheath.
• KRUPS Toaster/Convection Oven. Features four-slice capacity, bake/broil/reheat functions, and timed auto shut-off. Includes non-stick baking and broiling pans. 9.5″ x 17″ x 8.5″ (HxWxD)

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My friend Dennis sent along this story from the CoE today:

U. of Iowa Writing Students Revolt Against a Plan They Say Would Give Away Their Work on the Web

…

“At the center of the conflict is a routine form that students and their faculty advisers sign for depositing students’ theses with the Graduate College. Language added to the form this semester says that the University of Iowa Library will scan hard-copy theses and “make them open-access documents,” which it defines as freely available over the Internet and retrievable “via search engines such as Google.” It is not clear who authorized that clause.”

As a graduate of the UI’s non-fiction writing program, I guess I’m pretty ambivalent about this leap into the 21st Century by my alma mater. I understand the arguments being made, and I’m a bit uncomfortable equating a written work with, say, a drug developed at the UI (which, as far as I know, belongs to the UI). But should I be? I wish I knew more about the way patents and trademarks worked at the UI.

I was fairly happy with my thesis when I completed it, but it wasn’t all that I wanted it to be, and it was certainly not publishable in its submitted form (IMO). Here’s to stacking your review committee with friendly professors! On Iowa!

Leah’s decided it’s time to start a dress up basket for Ava. It’s a win/win for both of them. Ava gets to wear funny dress up clothes, and Leah gets to shop for funny dress up clothes. Here’s hoping Ava doesn’t become “that kid” who goes around everywhere wearing her dress up princess gown:

Leah would be quick to point out that she was “that kid” when she was little. The story goes that she spent a couple years as a young girl dressed every day in the same Laura Ingalls Wilder prairie dress. I’ve seen pictures from the period, and it was awfully cute. Let’s face it, LIW is a better role model than any of these vaguely sexualized Disney princesses. Believe me, I know from whence I speak. I had my own Batman phase back around 1974, albeit without the tights (I mean, I had pants on, just not the tights). Talk about vaguely sexualized…. A cape, a mask, and a utility belt. Throw in some elbow-length leather gloves and over-the-calf boots, and I’m the most popular handyman in The Castro.

Leah and I took Ava to breakfast yesterday at the Hamburg Inn (Kim, I never see you there anymore!). It was yummy, as always. As I was paying la cuenta on the way out the door, I eavesdropped on a young man at a nearby table who was trying to explain to a non-native English speaker what catch-22 means. I gathered that the topic had come up in relation to the Heller novel. The fellow doing the explaining — bless him — was really butchering it, and I felt bad that his friend was going to leave that place with such bad information.

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We scrambled to get out the door this morning, and in the rush, I left my iPod behind. Not good. And I’d just added about 75 new tunes last night that I was looking forward to hearing. I’ll have to remember to grab it when I’m home at noon today.

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Ava and Leah are off to a birthday party today, and Ava was excited about getting all dressed up. Leah’s convinced that this dress is too short for Ava, but I think it’s cute:

Sure, she may not be in it by the end of the summer, but we can still get some cuteness out of it before her next birthday, I expect.

I know, I know. Practically every picture I have of Ava recently is from her sitting on our sofa. Sorry! It’s the only time she’s standing still! I guess I could start using my flash. I think it’s been fired maybe 12 times over the last 5,000 pictures I’ve taken. Maybe fewer.

I sure do love this little stinker, even if she does go to sleep late and wake up early when her Grandma Georgie comes to visit.

There are myriad ways a child endears itself to its parents. It starts with just being born, then progresses through smiles, cooing, first words, all sorts of goodies. Ava’s been sleeping in our bed with us for the last week. It started when she got sick, and when she recovered, she did all she could to persuade us to let her stay. Tonight she’s in her own bed, but it wasn’t soon enough to prevent her from wetting the bed early this morning.

And of course she wet the bed on my side, so after waking to the muffled sound of Ava telling Leah about having an accident, I immediately felt the damp warmth of a soaked sheet against my back. Perfect. It’s a great way to start the day. I’m looking forward to stretching out in my dry bed tonight.

The music was soothing, but all I could think about was scratching my cheek. It itches. Oh, God, I really need to scratch it. Must. Not. Move. Arm. Oh, yeah. Can’t. Move. Arm. I couldn’t move my arm because there were needles sticking out of it. And out of my forehead, my scalp, my feet, my legs . . . AND my groin.

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Yet another in the long list of reasons why I think all printers must (and most usually do, quickly) die:

If you’re buying name-brand ink cartridges, which typically hold a few milliliters of ink, you’re shelling out the equivalent of between $3,000 and $5,000 per gallon. (Suddenly, spending $45 to fill your car’s gas tank doesn’t seem so extravagant, eh?) Just as an idea of how valuable this particular golden goose is, more than 40 percent of HP’s $2.63 billion operating profits from last quarter came from it’s (sic) imaging and printing group alone.

I always cringe when I’m asked to recommend a good printer. Primarily because I haven’t used a desktop inkjet or laser printer for years, but also because I’m rarely convinced that the person asking really needs a printer. The whole printing process is a wasteful, often frivolous pursuit. All printers should be melted down and repurposed into, I dunno, watchbands or something.

Leah will, no doubt, take exception to this result.

Hey there, Internet friends. Now that the raging hormones have subsided, here’s what I know:

1. I have some amazing, wonderful, supportive friends out there–some of whom I’ve met and some of whom I haven’t. Thanks to all of you for your very kind words and caring–and for opening up to share your very personal stories. It means more than you can know.
2. I’m very, very lucky to have the life that I do. I’m blessed to have one healthy, beautiful child (who wants to sleep in our bed every night.)
3. As my mother always told me, “It’s not about having what you want; it’s about wanting what you have.” Amen, Mom!

Thanks, everyone, for picking me up out of my puddle of tears, wiping me off, and reminding me that I should be celebrating the people in my life. Screw the pity party!

The white chicken chili brought home another win this year in the office chili/cornbread/pie cookoff. The prizes were a nice certificate and a split of the “donations” made by the eaters, which amounted to $33. I donated the money back to our cause for the week, the local shelter house, which is an organization my mother is very involved with.

I named this year’s batch “No More Tears” White Chicken Chili. When I was sauteeing the onions and garlic, Leah called out from the other room to say that her eyes were burning from the fumes. “Excellent,” I thought. “This is going to be a good batch.” And it was. No pain, no gain! It was nice to cook with garlic for a change; it’s something I only get to do when I cook something for someone else to consume.

Well, that extra two percent wasn’t on our side this month. That means Mark will be back to visit the Barnyard Babes again in about two weeks. Truthfully, I think I’ve reached my lowest, darkest days yet. I feel hopeless. I feel like this will never work. The doctors told us that doing IUI without fertility medications would only increase our chances of getting pregnant by another two percent per month, leaving us with a whopping four-percent possibility of getting pregnant this time around. Mark and I felt strongly about not turning to fertility medication right away because of the increased risks of ovarian cancer, which is why we chose to do IUI without medication at first.

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Ava finally got out from under the flu over the weekend. That was quite a past week. I think it must’ve helped that it was nearly 60 degrees here yesterday. Or maybe it was the trip to DeLuxe Bakery for cookies:

Cookies always make things better. Ava and Leah also made oatmeal chocolate chip cookies on Saturday.

I tell ya, it was a real kick in berries to have to shovel a heavy layer of icy precipitation off the walks and driveway this morning, especially when it’d been so nice yesterday. Still, I refuse to let this weather break me (get back to me after the next snow).

From today’s WSJ:

The CEO of Victoria’s Secret admitted that the brand has become “too sexy” and plans to win customers back to its core lingerie business by producing more sophisticated merchandise.

You know, he’s right. We get the VS catalog at home from time to time, and I flip through it quickly just to “keep up with the current trends” (Danny, I don’t think this counts as a subscription, does it?). I have to say that things have really gone downhill since the Stephanie Seymour / Jill Goodacre days (curse you and your perfect nose and sexy NOLA accent, Harry Connick! Ever wonder what it looks like when gods procreate?). It’s more like a Frederick’s of Hollywood catalog anymore. Blech.

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I’ve been reading The Wall Street Journal for years, before it was online, in color, or ad-supported. It’s been fascinating to watch this grand old paper change with the times, and I’ve not yet had any negative reactions to the things it’s had to do to stay competitive.

But there’s a new man in charge at the Journal now, and I got my first real taste of the new rule this morning when I went to wsj.com for the first time. There, before I even hit any content, was a full-page, click-through Flash ad from HP. Ugh. It feels like the beginning of the end, but in reality, the writing’s been on the wall for a long time now. There’s no such thing as a free lunch, and if Rupert wants the Journal to ditch paid registration, it’s full-page ads (and worse) from here on out. I just wish there were a better way to monetize these things….

That’s life. We thought we had Ava’s cold beat, but she had a pretty good fever again last night, so no daycare for 24 hours. Rules are rules. The real kicker is that we were about 15 minutes from the end of The Painted Veil, which we got using Leah’s new Netflix subscription. We have to wait until tonight to see whether Dr. Fane succumbs to cholera.

In other, less dire, news, I’ve decided to enter the chili cookoff at work again this year. I won in ’05 with my chicken chili, and I’ll be counting on it again this year to bring the trophy certificate home. Keep your spoons crossed for me!