Chocolate Chip Cookies

Or cinnamon rolls? What would you like to bake this weekend?

I made these cookies for Father's Day. A little smaller than the recipe calls for and then sandwiched Stew Leonard's homemade vanilla ice cream in between them, while warm.

Delicious!

Head over to Segullah for a few thoughts on Finding Courage.

Sage of the Subway

Read about my encounter with a wise old man from _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _, yah, I still don't know where.

Over at Segullah.

UPDATED WITH LINKS! Only Heaven Knows

Watch it here!

So, Matt's cabaret totally rocked! Can't wait for take 2 tonight.

We'll try to get some clips up here or on youtube or something so everyone can share the love.

If you want to read a little bit about my side of our love story (he shared his last night), head on over to Segullah.

Happy Mother's Day!

Dear Mom Corrigan, Mom Herrick, and Grandma Lorna:

This is for you.

We love you! Thanks for all you do! Your fabulous examples, unconditional love and never-ending support mean the world to us.

We're excited to see you soon!

Scripture Power

The fam on Easter morning. Stella left the bow in for the picture only.

Easter was awesome. We did a week of devotionals leading up to the holiday. It was an idea sent to me by my sister-in-law Tina. You start on Palm Sunday and then each night open an egg that has a scripture prophecy and reference about that week of Christ's life (along with a corresponding treat). We learned so much. It was wonderful!

Stella really liked finding food in the eggs. Luckily it was mostly goldfish crackers and cheerios.

It would lead to great discussions each night. I'd ask them questions and try to have them apply what they were reading, learning. I should have written it down that week, because I don't remember the details now :-(, but there were beautiful insights the kids made, right on their level of understanding that amazed me.

Kids with their Easter loot at cousin Colleen's

I want to hear about your successes and inspirational stories with reading and studying the scriptures.Come join in at Segullah.

Enjoying the backyard sunshine in New Jersey!

No Way Jose!

Join in the latest discussion at Segullah

Featuring a story from the insightful and delightful Margaret Gayle!

Photo circa 2007 (when this story came to pass)

How To Be Happy

For reals! There's research and everything.

Read all about it at Segullah.

My family being happy at the ward Valentine's Dance!

Cole Quotes

A few months ago I started writing down funny things Cole said. Because he's funny and sometimes I can't remember why at the end of the day. My brain's not what it used to be . . .short-term memory loss and such.

Anyhoo here are a few favorites:

• At Christmas when people would ask him what he wanted, "I want a car that has a remote control that when you push the button it drives by itself." (make no mistakes, not just a remote control car . . .)
• He was asking me if we could go to a friend's apartment with the whole family. I said I wasn't sure if we were all invited or if he was just going to have a playdate. He made some sense of that, "That's because we have a bunch of peoples in our family. There's Stella and Margaret. There's me and you and Dad. That's a bunch."
  
• "I just love hugging and kissing Stella more than anything in the whole world."
  

Who wouldn't? I mean look at that face!

• This was before we had even visited Santa, before Christmas had come but the holiday season was in full swing. Out of the blue one night during scripture reading Cole said, "Santa Claus is my favorite person in the whole world." Margaret, older and wiser and feeling spiritual because of the scriptures I guess, asked, "Even more than Heavenly Father and Jesus?" With no hesitation Cole said, "Yep. in the whole world."
• Singing to the little drummer boy, "Rumble bum, rumble bum, rumble bum."
  
• For one last funny, and hey, it's even Santa related (I see a pattern emerging) visit Blog Segullah.
  

Sort and Purge

Some before shots:

Entry Way

Table

Top of entertainment center

One corner of living room

Check back in a couple days for the after shots. (We're not quite there yet.)

While you're waiting read about cleaning the kids' room and . . .
some stuff I learned while being silent for a week
at Segullah.

If you've been missinger her

Then consider this my gift to you . . .She loves you too, see the smile?

An Apple A Day

If it were only so simple. Sad sickness and musings on health at Segullah today.

1 + 1 = More than 2

You've been wanting to read some great poetry and personal essay, haven't you? Talkin' about synergy and the Summer 2008 issue of Segullah over at the blog. Click on over!

There's a shout out to Erin Beth in my post over there, but below find a Halloween slideshow with some of the people in my life right now, who make me more than I could be without them (and their kids, okay . . .and some pictures of me, and my kids too. It's not really all that related to the post, okay? It's just some picsfor those interested! You must be interested or you wouldn't be reading.. :-))

Buy this book!

Click the cover to buy the book!


Cover designed by Maralise Photo Design


This is my dear friend and former missionary comp Courtney Jane Kendrick. We (some sisters from Segullah) helped compile some greatest hits from her blog into a book!

If you're already a cjane enthusiast, you need no introduction. If not, then what can I say to pique your interest? This girl has got a keen and hilarious way of looking at the world and a way with words that shares in a unique an insightful way.

I LOVE HER!

Many of you know or have heard about the story of her sister Stephanie Nielson. If not, you can click here to read more.

This book is just one more effort to help. All proceeds will benefit Stephanie. So if you're looking for a great read that will make you laugh and cry, or a gift to pass along to a friend, sister, mom . . .this would be a good one. And you'll be helping too.

Please do Enjoy it! I know I did.

MARATHON-Legs, Mind, Heart!

Cheese! Triumph at the ING Hartford Marathon!

Disclaimer
Okay, okay you were dying to hear all the details of the marathon and now it's been over a week and you're not so interested anymore, but I still want to write it all down. So beware, long post ahead! Don't worry if you've lost interest. I won't feel bad if you don't comment! :-)

If I've talked to you, then you know the race was awesome, great, amazing. Those are three of the most common descriptive terms I've used when people ask me, "How did it go?" Here's why:

Pre-Race
We took Peter Pan bus lines from Penn Station to Hartford, Connecticut. Margaret and Cole were just a little bummed that the bus we ended up getting on was actually a Greyhound and there were no pictures of Captain Hook or Tinkerbell on the outside, but there were comfy seats, and a bathroom, so if you ask me, it was all good.

In it for the long haul.

The freeway had construction, accidents, and holiday weekend traffic, so it took us more than an hour longer than it was "supposed" to, but we saw glorious fall foliage and I held Stella most of the way and kissed her cheeks over and over.

Thought you'd want to see the cheeks I was kissing all day.
Cole likes to kiss them too.

The guy across the aisle from me also struck up some conversation about wanting to be a good family man, like my husband, even though "black people" have a hard time keeping their families together. (He whispered that part under his breath, so as not to offend . . .himself?).

We walked from the bus station to the Expo center to pick up our race packets. Mags and Cole for the Kids K and me for the marathon. The expo was not as exciting as expected, but they gave us cool orange drawstring bags to carry our stuff in and one table had free cheese cubes to sample. I kept noticing all the runners around me, with their sinewy legs and amazingly fit bodies. I started to worry a little, maybe I am not actually ready for this race; I don't have sinewy legs, they still have cottage cheese; I don't appear amazingly fit, my belly is postpartum squishy. But then I noticed a few more people like me and remembered that I had done all the necessary prep, there was no way I would not finish this race.

We hooked up with our friends, the Ortons. Emily and I trained almost every single step of 340 miles together. We have talked about pretty much everything you can imagine during all those miles and runs. And in fact, here is a shout out to her . . . You Rock! I love you! It would have been miserable without her. She drove down with her family (husband and five kids) a little earlier than us and they were swimming at their hotel pool waiting to meet up with us for dinner. We were also waiting for the Astles, Carol came on most of the long weekend runs with us, but is speedy, so did other training without us and had a different race goal (finish in under four hours). We were also planning to see Reagan and Jake and their friend Deanna, as well as Jordan and Erin Colby. Jordan and Erin were stuck in traffic, so they missed dinner. Randy, and Carol made it to join us and we chatted for a few minutes on the street with Reagan and Jake before they head back to their hotel to rest up for the big day.

Luckily we found City Steam Brewery for dinner. They put our three families (nine kids between us) in the back room with the pool table, where we could still hear the live Jazz, but everyone else didn't have to hear us. We ate pasta (of course), bread, and ordered more than we needed in the way of kids macaroni and cheese or chicken finger dinners.

Afterward we took a quick dip in the hot tub, let the hubbies keep the kids down at the pool while Emily, Carol, and I went to get to bed.

From top, clockwise: Eli, Margaret, Me, Sarah jane, Cole, Matt hot-tubbing it at the Hilton

Up in the "runner's only" room we finally heard from Erin and Jordan that they had made it to their hotel. Hooray, we set up a meeting place for the morning and went about our pre-run preparations. I was anxious and excited so we did a little bit of chatting before I could finally get to sleep. My alarm went off the next morning and I didn't even want to stay in bed. Four months of training, hours of running, a hundred little details prepared . . .I couldn't believe race day was actually here. During the night Matt had slipped a card and gift under the door. I took it into the bathroom to read since my roomies were still snoozing in a bit, and cried. In the box he had left a necklace with a little "M" charm, for marathon mom. More than the token, it was the realization that he had supported me through every single run and though often called me crazy, really did admire my dedication.

After dressing, putting on glide, packing up our gels, filling our water belts with sports beverages, and pinning on our numbers Emily, Carol, and I met up with Erin and walked to the start line. Our families were still cozily bundled at the hotels, but we made our way through the masses of runners while someone was giving gurgled announcements over a loud speaker and found the back of the pack. Emily acknnowledged that when they said, "Marathoners, this way," they meant us! The sky was clear and blue and the air was brisk. I knew I wouldn't want my long-sleeves forever, but I was glad I had them then.

Erin Colby, Carol Astle, Me, Emily Orton, pre-race

Race
I didn't hear the gun but everyone started moving toward the start, so we followed. Hundreds of people lined the streets cheering and music blasted. I knew it would be a challenge to keep pace at the beginning of the race, because we would be just so darn excited and I was right. We ran around the big park and some of the Hartford streets and I kept checking my watch and holding everyone back. The Orton family found one of the first cheering stations where they smiled, jumped up and down, took pictures and held up home made signs. After a couple of miles Carol left us so she could reach her goal, and just after four miles Erin had to leave us as the half-marathon course split off from us.

So Emily and I followed the runners, the volunteers, the orange arrows on the streets and ran. One section of the course is an out and back on a beautiful Connectict road. I'd describe it as somewhere between suburban and rural, not to mention breathtaking. These homes were surrounded by giant maple and oak trees in an array of colors from green, to yellow, to orange, to fiery red. Some of the leaves had begun to fall and litter the green manicured lawns with their splashes of color. They had pots of mums on the windowsills, cheery orange pumpkins on the porches, corn stalks leaning against their mail boxes, and happy supportive people cheering for us in their driveways. We ran past kids having Saturday morning soccer games and families drinking hot chocolate after having slept in their backyard in a tent. Idyllic, yes! We talked about it together and to some of the other runners we chatted with along the way, "What are we doing in Manhattan?"

Another thing I loved about the out and back is that we were able to see and cheer for the leaders coming back the other direction, running, no exaggeration, twice as fast as us. We also saw Reagan, Jake, and Carol all right on track to reach their race goals.

People playing live music plus a few DJ's were spread out along the course to help us stay motivated. A young band rocking out, a fifty-something acoustic guitarist keeping it mellow, a middle-aged band covering Neil Diamond all contributed to the party-like ambiance. By the time we were hitting our painful, we still have a long way to go part around mile 18, we had a lot of positive energy stored up from all that had gone before. I received a call from Nate who's in Finland around mile 10, Matt texted me about the Kids K, we met runners from Boston, Los Angeles, upstate and asked questions of people wearing team t-shirts.

Cole and Mags, pre-race.

Cole and Loretta running the Kids K dash.

Margaret posing at the start line. She came in about 15th out of 80.

Impressive focus, no? She ran the 1/2 mile.

We talked politics and came up with some ideas on how to solve the world's problems. All of that filled us, so after being lead back into downtown via service roads, past railroad tracks, and up steep on-ramps that sucked a bit of life out of us we were still able to keep running. Next highlight, we saw the Ortons cheering for us again at mile 22. Emily made a quick stop to peek at her baby Lily and then had a spring in her step. Following that was a table of still cheerful volunteers holding signs and directing us to an aid station with gummy bears, sport beans, and fresh fruit. An orange wedge never tasted so refreshing.

Although my hips were stiff, knees hurting, right glut knotting up, quads burning and I could feel a couple of blisters forming on my big toes there was just NO WAY I WASN'T GOING TO FINISH! In fact none of that even mattered because my spirit felt totally unconquerable. Emily and I recalled a sign from the beginning of the race, my favorite. It read, "Legs, Mind, Heart." I called Matt as planned at mile 25. He told me they were waiting less than a mile away. Emily got choked up, which in turn choked me up and we told each other to stop crying so we could still breathe. I thought I might cry at the end, but because I'd be so spent or in so much pain, but really I was crying because I felt- triumphant!

Around the next bend as we approached our last stretch of road Matt, Margaret, Cole, Stella (sleeping in the stroller) Carol, Reagan, and Jake were there cheering, jumping up and down, holding signs, taking video. I veered over to kiss Matt and hug Mags and we soared up the road and around the corner to the finish line. We heard the announcers were applauding the runners coming in at this point, saying, "We saw the leaders come in two and a half hours ago. These people have been out there running for FIVE Hours! It takes a lot of dedication to do something for five hours." Amen! :-) They called out Emily's name and I looked up at them, wanting to hear my own and one of them put his hand over the mic and said, "What's your name?" Emily and I both called it out together and they repeated, "Heather Herrick. Way to finish it together ladies."

Emily Orton and I, finishing it together!

Post-race
We took our medals, hugged, and Emily said, "We just did that!" As we walked over to get water she said, "So, that took us four months!" Emily and I were both drenched in sweat, some of it already dry and forming salt lines around our foreheads, but the smile on her face and the tears in her eyes were BEAUTIFUL! Our families came running around the corner past the water station where more hugs were shared, photos taken. Matt asked me how I felt, "Amazing!"
"Are you proud of yourself?"
No hesitation, "YES!"
Then he kissed me, even though I was sweaty and gross.

We hobbled to the food tents and took one of everything: yogurt, cranberry walnut cookie, cup of mac and cheese, cup of apple crisp, potato chips, apple, banana, bagel and cream cheese, and fruit cup. We had to eat as we walked back to the hotel so we'd have time to shower before check out. I did have an adrenaline drop, and got really nauseated during that walk, but after showering, stretching, and eating every last bit of food off that plate I felt good again.

I'll spare all the details of a very long bus ride home, but even that couldn't dampen my mood too much.

More cheek kissing of Stella and Cole would sit by me, now that I wasnn't "fweaty".

Natalie and Victor invited all of the runners and their families to come to their place where she'd prepared a delicioso pasta dinner, with homemade chocolate chip cookies for dessert. We swapped stories from the day and compared battle wounds, talked politics and took turns holding each others' babies.

Left to right: Jake, Deanna, Reagan, Me, Emily, Erin, Carol
Enjoying dinner at the Monreals, gracious hosts extraordinaire!

So all in all, it was AWESOME, GREAT, AMAZING! Thanks to everyone who made it possible. Let's do it again soon . . .errr okay, not too soon!

Life Lessons from Running

Margaret (in the red hoodie) and Loretta Astle (in the pink coat) running in the Kids K, last year while Matt and Carol ran the marathon.

Read all about it at Segullah.

Chili Cook-Off

The ward had its 2nd Annual Chili Cook-off and hoedown. I didn't win the $50 gift certificate for Dinosaur BBQ, booo! But many people enjoyed the Chicken Chili with Jalapeno Cheddar Hushpuppy Crust, so my cooking vanity was still well served. Plus Iris won, and she was about to have her new baby and is a fabulous person, so she deserved it! I love this activity. Professional square dance callers, cornbread, and chili . . .it's the perfect trio.

Margaret's Big News

From this . . .




to this!

Read all about it at Segullah

My Mom Had a Birthday

Still great at Fifty-___ (oh, maybe she doesn't want that info out in the world)

I guess I talk about my mom more than I realize, because even new friends I have will say things like, "Your mom sounds funny," or, "She must babysit a lot," or, "She's always helping out, huh?"

She is funny.

She does babysit a lot.

She is always helping out.

So whatever stories I am sharing must be accurate descriptions of her. Sometimes I hear people say things like, "I don't really keep in touch with my mom," or, "My mom and I just don't get along," and these are real people, not just angsty teenager characters on TV.

And even though I'm an adult and know that everyone is different, every time I hear that I still think, "That's CRAZY talk!" How could you not get along with your mom? And then I remember that not everyone has MY mom. If they did, they would get along with her, and these are the reasons why:

Kind.
Works hard.
Always considers the needs of those around her.
Loves to have fun.
Shares her fun with the people she loves.
Shares everything.
Doesn't mince words (this is a good thing, you know what she's thinking).
Good cook (who doesn't like getting along with someone who's a good cook?).
Loyal friend.
Devoted wife.
Caring sister.
Doting grandma.
Strives to learn and improve.

This list could go on. That's how great my mom truly is.

This awesome momof mine just had a birthday and I want to say HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! Since I moved away more than four years ago I have only been home at her birthday once. We went to Sundance and rode the chair lift to see the gorgeous fall leaves. If I were there this year, I hope we could've done the same thing. I'd also love to just hang out and let the kids play in the backyard or nap while we kick it on the couch in the family room during the afternoon and chat, then we could go out to dinner with Grandma Lorna and Dad (he'd even be home on time, since it's your birthday and all ;-)). That would be great! I'm not there, but . . .
Maybe next year. In the meantime, know this:

I Love you MOM!

She always come to visit and help when I have a baby, as much as I love her though, I think I'll have to try and get her here some other way this next time.Grandma Gayle checking out new baby Stella last Feb.

I Cannot Believe It

Miss Margaret started kindergarten last week. WHAT? How did I have a baby that turned five? She picked out the outfit she wanted to wear two weeks in advance and called me back into her bedroom many nights to say, "I'm so excited for school!" One night she also admitted, "And I'm a little bit nervous." I told her that's okay and I always felt a little nervous for the first day of school too. I didn't tell her I was A LOT nervous and a little sad to let her go to kindergarten all day. I take solace in knowing if I miss her too much I can just bring her right back home.

The night before we had family home evening about being prepared. We printed out a chart of things she needs to do every morning, we let her ask questions and gave advice. We've also been talking about being good examples and being missionaries in some of our FHE lessons lately so I reminded them of our lesson when we learned the primary song, "I Belong to the Church of Jesus Christ". Sitting there with my kids safely gathered around me, I realized that this transition is a big deal because it's the first day of putting my preparation as a mother to the test. Have I prepared her? Helped her be confident and secure? Given her enough knowledge about who she is and helped instill the importance of that in her? I guess we'll see.


Matt assured me I was making a bigger deal of it than necessary, and so we *calmly* accompanied her down the stairs, out the door, down the block and across the street. We huddled in the corners of her kindergarten classroom that smelled like recently painted walls and industrial strength cleaner with other nervous parents as her teacher took her to a cubby with her name on it and gave her a nametag. She left her Disney princess backpack there, found a table with paper and crayons and started coloring. She glanced up, scanned the room and found me. She confidently crossed the room to ask me if I was going to leave now. It wasn't a, "I'm ready for you to leave," nor a, "Leave so I can get on with this," she just wanted to make sure she gave me a goodbye hug. I walked into the hall and unwanted tears spilled onto my cheeks while the lump in my throat burned. Matt grasped my hand and smirked a little when he noticed the tears. I had Stella strapped onto me in the Baby Bjorn and my heart almost broke thinking of leaving her in just a few short years. I know now how fast it really goes.

You go girl! Whether it has anything to do with me or not, she sure seemed ready.

Enjoying the Moments

A moment I enjoyed this summer.
And a bonus for you to see how the kids are getting cuter by the day.

So I missed my blogging day at Segullah in August. But I was able to be the first one for the month of September. Head on over and join the discussion about how you are able to enjoy parenthood more and worry less about getting things done.

Can I Sit On Your Lap?

Accountability

This word, accountability, has been crashing its way into my life, repeatedly, this past while. As I grow older, I am continually becoming more aware of how weak and fallible I am.

I understand discipline, and I understand consistency, but I haven't figured out how to marry the two in my daily/weekly/monthly/yearly behavior. I continually disappoint myself as my well-intended and hopeful life-changes come crashing down.



If you don't know me, I have an obsessive personality. I become very passionate about things for a short while and then that passion fizzles away to minor intrigue or residual interest (hello, blogging). When I was younger, this applied to many social connections as well. I wasn't proud of that. Now, I feel like my current obsessive tendencies apply to things, ideas, and activities....not people. At least I'm just hurting myself and not others. That's a start, right?

I want to try and emulate my perfect wife. She actually gets the idea of moderation and consistency. It's crazy. How do I glean from her that which will make me skinny, rich, and successful? How? How about starting the journey in a slow, moderate way. This is very hard for me. When I want to accomplish something, it must be done, now, or soon, with a deadline.

How does one moderately start being more moderate?



This is how I will start. When I know that I have to answer to someone other than myself, it's easier for me to make good choices...moderate choices...and to be honest with the progress and the outcome.

I can never rely on myself.

Having recently had a very serious talk with a friend in need of support, I became their "person" to which they will be accountable. It's easier to be on this side, but also motivating. I want a "person" to report to.

Not me....and not close

I want to lose weight, so I can fulfill my type in my current industry, be successful, earn more money, feel secure, and ultimately feel like I'm making strides forward in my life. It all comes down to making a thousand small, and good choices. In the past, I would do a crash diet, master cleanse, navy-seal workout, or anything that would give me results....FAST! Now, in my pursuit of moderation, I'm simply keeping a journal. I know what I should be doing. So I'm writing down everything I AM doing, and letting my wife read it. I journal my frustrations, temptations, successes, and remedies for improved and new choices. It's slow, thoughtful, and moderate. YIKES! I'm on day 3. I'll report back

Not me, either...but close

I want to stop biting my nails. I have done this since I was a child. As did my father. I have finger nubs, not nails. And guess what....my daughter bites her nails too...at 5 yrs. old. Genetics, anyone? She's been doing it since she was 2. So I gave her a manicure on Sunday night and had an accountability talk with her...since it's been on my mind. We will now be reporting to each other everyday on how we are doing. And guess what, I found it's really hard to disappoint an inquisitive 5 yrs. old girl. So I've been 3 days without biting. I'll report back.

I'm learning that the most important thing about being moderate and accountable, is that if you fall backward, you now have an opportunity to move forward again. When I used to fall from my obsessive and extreme plans, I would beat myself up, feel like a poop-bag, and not feel motivated to move forward again for quite a while.



I moderately say, "Thank you" for being my listening therapist. I will be accountable to you for my extreme plan of non-extremeness.

Check in on me. I need it.

Roots

The glorious and majestic Mt. Timpanogas!

Come on over to Segullah for some good reading and hopefully enlightening discussion.

The Good, The Bad, and the Really Ugly

In my lonely state, with the wife and kids gone, what am I to do with my free time in this big city? Really, anything I want. NY offers an unlimited amount of entertainments, social experiences, and cultural events. The sky's the limit. And now that I have the time to soak it all in, what do I do with my free time? ............ go the movies.

Yes, I've been watching way too many movies over the last week or so. I've been able to do this, because I've had entire evenings or days free, and I love seeing movies in theaters. It's just not the same on the small screen. Also, the great thing about NY movie theaters, many of them are HUGE 25 screen, multi-storied theaters, perfect for doubling or tripling your experience. That's all I will say about that. Yes, I'm bad. But when you pay $12.75 for a ticket, I like to get my money's worth. And I don't mind sitting in a dark theater for 6-9 hours at a time. Before you judge me, remember, there are a lot worse things I could be doing here in the city while my wife's away. Right?

Here is a spackling of movies I've seen very recently - with grades. For the most part, the following are all typical Summer popcorn flicks with little substance, but there are a couple great ones as well. (note: some of them I only saw as time fillers until the next good movie)

• Wall-E - A
  Genius!

• Iron Man - A-
  Quality movie all-around
  

• Kung Fu Panda - B+
  Amazing animation

• Hancock - B
  Unique and fun, but hoping for a little more. Bateman is perfect.
  

• Indiana Jones - B
  Fun, with great visuals

• The Incredible Hulk - B
  Better than expected

• Wanted - B
  Too gory, but good

• Sex and the City - B-
  Too long

• Get Smart - B-
  Not terrible

• The Love Guru - C-
  Expected bafoonery

• The Happening - D-
  The Worst Movie in History!

RECAP

The past few weeks/months have a been a whirlwind, to say the least. Since baby Stella was born, the regular routine of life has really been thrown out of wack....in a good way.

Stella is now almost 5 months old, and getting cuter and cuter.

Margaret finished pre-school and the nasty sty is finally going away.

Cole is allowing his personality to really "blossom". (that's a nice way of saying he's testing his limits with us everyday)

At the beginning of June, we went to the Herrick family reunion in SoCal (or Southern California if you're uncool). My family (Mother, 7 siblings, 7 spouses and 35 children) stayed for 5 days in a cheap, but fun, motel about 5 blocks from Disneyland. We Disneyed two days, and beached two days, and generally hung out. It was very fun, but not very relaxing. When you have children in three separate categories for 'ride going' at Disneyland, it can get very tiresome and frustrating. Especially trying to coordinate with the other little cousins, etc... But Margaret and Cole had a blast.

Straight from California, Heather and the kids drove back to Utah with my family, as I returned to NYC with my Mother and 4 nieces. They had their "Grandma trip". So upon returning from California, I was thrust into touring them around the city for five days. Again, crazy, not restful, but fun. We tried the Wicked ticket lottery four times, and won three times. Very lucky. Everyone saw Wicked and 2 other shows, in addition to seeing the entire city and eating great food. I think they were a little culture shocked, but had a good time.

Back in Utah, Heather's brother, Jeff, got married last week. So she wasn't able to relax much either. The kids have had fun spending time with their other cousins.

Pictures of these events are forthcoming. Heather has the camera in Utah.

So here I am, in NY, all by myself until July 12. I really miss Heather and the kids. Mornings are the hardest. Waking up to an empty apartment, without little voices. Since I'm so used to being smothered with hugs and kisses everyday, being alone is really hard......but.......I can sleep in on weekends... and that's nice.

I will persevere. And for your enjoyment....

Consistent Dedication

Well, it's official.....I'm an obsessive, inconsistent idiot. Why you may ask? Because I REALLY fell of the blogging wagon. I wanted to make writing/blogging/journaling/declaring/punditing/sharing a routine in my life. And what happens, I disappear for three months.

I am disappointed in myself once again. You can ask my wife, I often go through phases or obsessions. I go gung-ho, then fizzle away onto the next phase or obsession. I didn't want my blogging to be that.....at least the fizzle part. And it did. If I had a picture of me feeling like a schlumpy loser, in blogging fashion, I would put it

HERE

(schlumpy loser)

In order to remedy my loseriness (good word, huh), I'm going back on the wagon, and not in an obsessive way, but a naturally consistent and moderately habitual way......kind of like brushing your teeth. Looking back at my few short months of good blogging, I came to appreciate the power of recording. And what better way than blogging, in our digital age, is there to record who you are, junk and all, for your future self and posterity. The info will forever float in the blogosphere and won't be lost forever, say...... in a freak house fire or tornado.

I think this is important. I wish I knew what my father believed and felt about the world when he was a young father. Maybe I would discover that he also had an inconsistent, obsessive nature. Then I wouldn't feel so bad about myself......because I could blame him. And doesn't displacing the blame make everyone feel better about themselves? Then 20 yrs. from now, my son, Cole, will feel better about his crazy neurosis, because he can blame me......or choose to be better than me, and take responsibility for his own issues.

Hopefully, this public(albeit small) declaration will keep me motivated and accountable for consistent entries.

"Let it be written, Let it be done!"
- Yul Brynner in The Ten Commandments

A Sweet Mess

So, we've been tired, busy, running races, having birthdays and stuff. We have left you in the blog reader lurch, and we're sorry. We'll try to do better.

I blogged at Segullah today. Read it, enjoy!

Pictures to come back and look for soon: Margaret's birthday; Stella's blessing; Heather, Natalie, Carol, Nicole, and Jake's half marathon;and maybe more.

Momentous

Please watch this speech.

With all politics and partisanship aside, I, as an American that believes in truth and equality, urge you to listen to his words. It will move and inspire both tears and action.

It's 38 minutes long. But definitely a good substitute to your regular viewing of "Flava of Love"...... right?

For full text and video, go to http://my.barackobama.com/page/content/hisownwords/

Philadelphia, PA | March 18, 2008
"A More Perfect Union"

What do you think of his message?

Do you believe in the actual power of words? And, can/will they instigate action/change?

Will this a speech, as many pundits have said, "... be published in textbooks....alongside the Gettysburg Address and Dr. King's 'I Have A Dream' speech..."?

Health

A couple nights ago, Heather and I had a funny prayer moment.

During our prayer, Heather gave thanks for "the health we all enjoy", then immediately proceeded to ask,

"...bless Cole, that his cough will go away, so he can sleep..."

"...bless Matt, that his cold can get better..."

"...bless Margaret, that her eye(a nasty stye) will heal..."

I irreverently laughed, inside, for the rest of her prayer. It was a very telling moment of the gratitude Heather carries in her heart.

Yes, although we have things that ail us, and we are all very slowly falling apart, we are very, very healthy in so many ways.

And that is truly something to enjoy!

Aiutami

Risk is everything
Without risk there is no drama
Without drama there is no "aiutami"
Without asking for help
No love, no love
- the Light in the Piazza -
Adam Guettel
2005

Aiutami!!!

That is the cry....."Help me!" in Italian. The passage is from one of the greatest musicals ever produced. These words have been in my head all day.

I'm sitting here at my job in the law firm, providing support for my family......gratefully. I'm sitting here at my day job in the law firm......longing to not be here. I'm sitting here at my job in the law firm......aching to feel creative.

Aiutami!!!

One of my fellow legal secretaries is out for the day. They placed a 'floater' in her stead. She 's knew. She's nice. She's a middle-aged, beautiful Greek woman named Evangelia. I didn't talk to her much of the morning as I stared blankly at my computer screen hoping to find a mental escape somewhere on the net.

Then she asked me, "So....are you an actor?"

"Yep", I responded flatly.
.
.
.
pause
.
.
.
"What makes you ask?", said my ego-driven, prodding self.

"It's because you have such great teeth.......nice smile......an actor's smile", she said.

"Thanks", I said perking up a bit.

Now she had my attention. I know it's terrible. But I needed something, today, to drag me out of my self-loathing doldrum.

After conversing for a while, I learned that she is an opera singer turned actress. Not only that, she has been on Broadway in three productions. Three of the greatest in the last 10 yrs. Baz Lurhmann's La Boheme, Coram Boy, and The Light in the Piazza.

In adoration, I showered her with questions about her experience in 'Piazza', how she got where she did, and what her future plans were. She said she has been very blessed, but has to pay the bills like everyone else. So, she took a 'floater' job at my law firm.

Aiutami!!!

The entire scenario made me very sad. Here is a beautiful, close-to-retirement, talented artist, that really 'made it' to the major leagues of our profession. And that profession dumped her out into the gutters of unemployment.

Yes, she now has a good job, completely unrelated to the theatre. And I'm sure she is grateful for it. But aren't there guarantees? Aren't there entitlements? Isn't she deserving of a life doing what she loves and is best at?

Aiutami!!!

I know I'm really just starting out on my journey, even 15 yrs. into it. But I pray that I will eventually be able to solely do what I am passionate about.

For now, in my pursuit, I am a slave to survival. And thank goodness....I am not content.

This is wanting something,

this is reaching for it,
This is wishing that a moment would arrive.
This is taking chances,
this is almost touching,
what the beauty is.
- the Light in the Piazza -
Adam Guettel
2005

Anomaly

As Spring approaches and the weather turns brighter, many people get the jogging 'bug' or 'fever'. They lace up the running shoes and hit the trails. They set goals of weight loss, distance, or time. They dream of finally running that 10K, triathlon, or marathon come summer/fall.

Last summer/fall, when I was training for my marathon, I was told that once I complete my first marathon, I would have the 'bug' to run more. I followed the rigorous training program, which should have established healthy, desirable habits. I completed the race faster than I anticipated and enjoyed the race experience. But guess what, it's been 5 months since I ran my marathon, and I am still 'bug' free. I have absolutely no desire to run another race, or even jog for enjoyment.

Mile 25

I don't like running. I abhor the training. I hate the way you have to schedule your life around your mileage. And, to top it off, I GAINED about 25 lbs. You're supposed to get skinny when you run 20-30 miles a week.

The "run a marathon" box on my life-list has been checked, and I'm moving on. I will probably run a few miles here and there for health reasons, but never again will I train for a big race.

Am I alone in my apathy? Am I a bad person for feeling this way? Am I the marathon running anomaly? Please let me know that it's ok to hate something that you shouldn't.

HIGHLIGHT

My daughter, Margaret, loves to talk. She loves to pontificate on the details of every event in her life. She pretty much does the same things every day - morning shows, pre-school, play ground, meals, and bedtime.

Since I don't see my kids all day long, when I get home, I try my best to take time and ask them how their day went.

From Cole, I usually get a very LOUD and fast couple sentences that have something to do with dinosaurs, horsies, or trucks. He delivers it with such breathless urgency that it sounds like he just finished a world-record 100 meter dash.













From Margaret, I get a minute by minute, friend by friend, activity by activity account of the entire day. With her commentary added in, it can take quite a while to get it out.

Recently, I tried to put a healthy 'boundary' on her description of the day. I asked her to share the HIGHLIGHT of her day. She didn't quite get what I meant. I defined, and she delivered.....after much thought. She likes boundaries, and I like brevity(although I don't use it). It's a win-win.

Since then, her favorite word is HIGHLIGHT. "Daddy, you're home.....what was the HIGHTLIGHT of your day?", or "well....I played at Petra's house for a while, and the HIGHLIGHT was when....". It's quite amusing to watch her little head realize she is using a grown-up word, and see her filled with pride as she emphasizes her new found vocabulary.

Last night, I came home around 10 pm, and had not seen the kids all day. Mom and the kids were asleep. I peeked my head in the kids' room, and to my surprise, Margaret was awake, quietly singing along with Maria on "I Have Confidence". She was thrilled that I discovered her. After a very busy week, I felt she needed some 'daddy' time. I asked her if she wanted to get out of bed and talk for a minute. So even though it was way past her bed time(she's is a night owl, just like dad), we went out to the front room and had a little catch-up.

I asked her how her day went(with healthy boundaries). Her HIGHLIGHT was movie-night with Mom and Cole. Specifically, watching the family Robinson throw coconut bombs at those pesky pirates. And what would you guess, the first question for me out of her mouth was, "what was the HIGHLIGHT of your day, Daddy"?

I sat there for a moment, with Margaret on my lap, deeply thinking about what I could share. I then had a sudden rush of sadness and disappointment knowing that I did not have a HIGHLIGHT that day. Not knowing what to say, I told her that my HIGHLIGHT was talking to her right then. Because it was.

She gave me a big hug/little hug and big kiss/little kiss(the routine she created when she was two). That moment ended up being the HIGHLIGHT of my week.

I guess we all have days, every now and then, void of a HIGHLIGHT. But Margaret always has a HIGHLIGHT. She can always find a moment of wonder or excitement, even in her own monotonous schedule of morning shows, pre-school, play grounds, meals and bedtime.

I am always learning so much from her goodness and wisdom. I am going to try to have HIGHLIGHT- filled days, every day. Even if the one HIGHLIGHT is a simple conversation with someone I love.

Share a recent HIGHLIGHT you've had.

Shifting Gears

Stella is three and a half weeks old now. More than one person has asked me if it has gone by fast. The answer to that is, no. When days and nights blend together with only brief periods of sporadic sleep to separate them, time does not fly. That is not to say I haven't enjoyed her very much. There's nothing much sweeter than holding a warm cuddly newborn up against your shoulder and breathing in the pheromones, or love hormones as I like to call them. I think these love hormones spread over to Matt as well when I'm nursing in bed in the middle of the night. He seems like the perfect husband and father during that time.

My question is, how come they don't seem to extend to my other two kids? I love them dearly, now don't get me wrong. But these hormones afford me oodles of patience as I am bouncing a fussy baby alone in the middle of the night. So why is that patience instantly tried the moment Cole climbs onto my lap to kiss the baby while I'm nursing? Is it the split personality phenomenon? The way that my relatively agreeable, obedient two-and-a-half year old has suddenly turned into the most contrary child on the planet. His automatic response to every request or directive is, "No!" or "I don't want to!" I've had to come up with things he wants to do even less than what I've asked him to do, so he'll choose my original request just to spite me (pretty ingenius, no?). I knew a change was coming, but I forgot how taxing it can be on a sleep-deprived mama. Margaret, who was referred to as PMG (Perfect Margaret Gayle) by our brothers and sisters when she was a baby and toddler became a different person when we brought Cole home from the hospital. We named her alter ego, Margarita, the evil twin. It passed, as I'm sure Cole's mood swings will. So I just have to keep reminding myself of that.


At least, or I could say at most Cole and Margaret LOOOOVE baby Stella and want to kiss her, hold her, entertain her every chance they get. All disobedience and moodiness has been turned to me, and thankfully I am mature enough to handle it . . .if the love hormones are lingering.We will find our new groove. Right?


Speaking of love, Matt and I celebrated our 7th Anniversary last Saturday. I'm surprised he hasn't posted about it. Too wrapped up with his reality TV I suppose ;-). However, he did not disappoint. He made reservations at a beautiful little restaurant called New Leaf Cafe in Fort Tryon Park near our house. Grandma Margaret was still here, so we had a built in babysitter and enjoyed a night out. I did my hair and put on make-up for the first time in a couple of weeks and even squeezed into a pair of nylons (gag, but they do hold in the extra baby squish that's hanging around my middle, so that's a good thing). We ordered appetizers (calamari with mint coolie, lump crab cake), dinner (sirlion tip/short ribs in a rich stout sauce, duck in a blood orange sauce), and dessert (chocolate tart with homemade Tahitian vanilla ice cream and apple upside down tart with homemade caramel ice cream. Everything was presented beautifully and oh so tasty.)

Here we are presenting skinny faces, although admittedly at this point in our marriage we're both feeling just a tad bit "fat".

And here we are in front of the lovely New Leaf Cafe.

And in honor of our 7th anniversary may I present:

Seven Reasons I don't have the "Itch"
(Be cautioned, you may feel jealous after reading this!)

1. Matt makes occasions special (a random sampling: homemade spa night for Valentine's Day, redecorating while we're away in Utah so that the place is beautiful when we come home, daddy/daughter or son dates on Saturday)

2. He makes a mean chocolate mousse.

3. He calls on his way home from the train to see if I need him to stop and get anything at the store (he's willing to get anything I need, like a bag of peanut m & m's if it's been one of those days or simply a gallon of milk).

4. He puts me to bed and then keeps Stella in the other room and cuddles her so I can get at least a couple of good hours of sleep every night.

5. He works hard to make time for our family, making sure to fit in FHE, even if it can't be Monday, and planning another night home every week to be here so we can do the laundry (and lately it has really been so HE can do the laundry, not WE).

6. Throughout the year he keeps a list of ideas for Christmas gifts and gives me the best surprises. Something I may have mentioned wanting or needing in September shows up under the Christmas tree. It's not that I need gifts, but this is an example of how incredibly thoughtful he is.

7. I'm making Matt sound perfect, but he's not. And that's the seventh reason I don't have the itch. He just tries hard, and we work hard together to make our family life one that brings us joy and peace. We enjoy life together and help each other learn from what's happening. Life is good, it's fun and I have a partner who is patient when challenges come up, but also who celebrates with me when things are going great.

I love you Matt! Happy Anniversary!

BAGONG WIKA NA !!!

For some reason, I have recently been overwhelmed with a desire to learn another language(s). I can't explain it. I feel I need to. And I want to.

Does anyone else feel this way? Is this a phase?



At this point, I consider myself bi-lingual. English being my first language of proficiency, and TAGALOG(Filipino) being my second. Tagalog is to Filipino as Elizabethan English is to contemporary American English. I speak and understand both.

I learned Tagalog about 12 yrs. ago when I lived in the Philippines for two years, and subsequently taught it, translated it, and continue to speak it whenever I can. In a practical sense, it's a useless language for a white, American, English speaker to know. But even so, it enriches my life. And it instantly creates a kinship with any Filipino I meet. And when we delivered our last baby, Heather got a private recovery room with a window overlooking the Hudson for FREE because I chatted up the Filipina nursing staff. It finally paid off!

I want to start right away.
My goal is to be somewhat conversational by the end of the year.

WHAT LANGUAGE SHOULD I LEARN?

I know that SPANISH would be the obvious choice, since I live in a country with a quickly growing Latino population. That would be the most "practical" choice, domestically. But to be honest, I have always had an aversion to Spanish. Don't hate me. But I have no desire to learn it. I never have. Maybe that's why I was sent, as a missionary, to the most obscure country with one of the most difficult languages possible....as punishment for my snobbery.


My gut tells me to learn CHINESE. As China is strengthening it's influence throughout the world, I feel it will be important to be able to communicate well with 20% of the world that speaks Mandarin. I want my kids to learn it. Even though they are growing up in a 80% Dominican, Spanish speaking neighborhood. And, I have been a closeted CHINO-PHILE ever since I saw The Last Emporer as a child.


I studied FRENCH for two years in high school, and all I can remember is how to count to ten , say "I am a garcon that likes fromage", and "sleep with me tonight"(not from school). Pathetic. At one time, French was a powerful language second only to English. I think it's importance in the world is dwindling. AND, my wife speaks French(well....Quebecois).


Maybe ARABIC. After all, if that dead-beat, McCain, gets in the white-house, we will be occupying Arabic nations for the next 100 years.


Lastly, maybe I should learn DUTCH as a tribute to my heritage. My father's ancestry is almost 400 yrs. American, and his mother was Dutch. My mothers ancestry is English and French.



I need your opinion. And, what are some good independent methods of learning, that you know of? I hear Rosetta is good. Any others?

Help me get my fix, before my desire dwindles away.

Finishing the Hat

I am feeling warm feelings today toward a particular piece of theatre. I feel it is one of the most richly complex and emotionally real pieces in American theatre.

SUNDAY in the PARK with GEORGE

From Wikipedia:

Sunday in the Park with George is a musical with music and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim and book by James Lapine. The musical was inspired by the painting "A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte" by Georges Seurat. A complex work revolving around a fictionalized Seurat immersed in singleminded concentration while painting the masterpiece, its Broadway production was greeted with mixed praise by the critics, but it has enjoyed several major revivals.

Nominated for ten Tony Awards, the musical won only two design awards but won numerous Drama Desk Awards and the 1985 Pulitzer Prize for Drama. The 2008 Broadway revival is the 2005-06 UK production first presented at the Menier Chocolate Factory.

STEPHEN SONDHEIM

I first fell in love with this show when I was about 15. Through all of my schooling and performing, it has maintained as my personal favorite. Something about it's search for beauty in art and the human soul, makes me want to cry.

Sondheim is a genius, if you didn't already know. His ability to marry music and lyric is unsurpassed by any other musical theatre composer. With Sunday in the Park....more than any of his other shows, he allows his complex, and surprisingly singable, yet atonal melodies really follow the emotional baseline of the characters. So often in musical theatre, the music is emotionally saying something contradictory to what the character is saying and feeling. Not in Sunday...

I hear the Broadway revival that opened last week is just as good, if not better than the original with Mandy Patinkin and Bernadette Peters. It's an extension from a London production that won practically every Olivier Award(UK's Tony Award). I can't wait to see it. I have never actually seen a live production of it, only a video of the original Broadway cast. I hope this new production lives up to the visions in my head and feelings in my heart when I listen to or sing it in my world. I am glad it's getting another look after almost 25 years.

Here are links to purchase the Original Broadway Cast and the London revival production.

























If you haven't heard this score, please take a couple hours and enrich your life. If you want some ITunes selections, I would recommend...

Sunday in the Park with George - Bernadette at her best
Color and Light - a musically pointillist look at creation
Finishing the Hat - George's personal battle between art and human intimacy
We Do Not Belong Together - the best breakup scene in the world
Move One - the best breakup "closure" scene in the world
Sunday - pure genius


FINISHING THE HAT

Yes, she looks for me . . . . Good.
Let her look for me to tell me why she left me
as I always knew she would.
I had thought she understood.
They have never understood, and no reason that they should.
But if anybody could . . . .

Finishing the hat--how you have to finish the hat.
How you watch the rest of the world from a window
while you finish the hat.
Mapping out a sky . . . what you feel like, planning a sky . . .
What you feel when voices that come through the window
go, until they distance and die
Until there's nothing but sky.

And how you're always turning back too late
from the grass, or the stick, or the dog, or the light
How the kind of woman willing to wait's not
the kind that you want to find waiting
to return you to the night, dizzy from the height
Coming from the hat
Studying the hat
Entering the world of the hat
Reaching through the world of the hat like a window
Back to this one, from that.
Studying a face . . . stepping back to look at a face
Leaves a little space in the way, like a window
But to see . . . it's the only way to see

And when the woman that you wanted goes,
you can say to yourself, "Well, I give what I give!"
But the woman who won't wait for you knows
that however you live, there's a part of you
always standing by, mapping out the sky

Finishing a hat
Starting on a hat.
Finishing a hat.
Look, I made a hat--
Where there never was a hat!


Other musicals of note by Stephen Sondheim - My favorites - all amazing!

A Little Night Music
Sweeney Todd
Company
Into the Woods
Passion

Back to Life....Back to Reality

Just as those wise chanteuses, En Vogue, sang circa 1990, we are back to life and reality, without the support of Grandma help. (well, they didn't actually sing about grandma, but you get my drift)



And it just so happens I was cast in a workshop of a new musical that is taking me out of the home for most of the week. Yes, I am abandoning my wife and kids in their hour of need.

For all those sisters out there in the RS that believe my wife doesn't want meals, because of my "progressive fathering" post ...



...you are free to cook, serve, and deliver whatever delicacy you desire.

Why?

Because first and foremost, my wife doesn't share my views surrounding the archaic tradition of food delivery, and secondly, I really am not able to cook for them this week.

I stand humbled and ashamed of my obstinate and unhealthily independent, selfish heart.

The Power of the Post

Apparently, my previous post regarding the snow drought in NYC fulfilled its mission. My post summoned the storm, and I walked out of my building this morning to a beautiful blanket of fluffy snow on everything in sight.

Below is a pictorial tribute to the wonder that is NYC under snow. Click on images for larger versions.

Enjoy.

I've Got the Fever!

I am going to publicly admit my love for...

"America's Next Top Model"

Last night was the "Cycle 10" premiere. Note, Tyra Banks produces a new season about every six months or so. At least it seems like it. 10 yrs. ago, Tyra was still just a successful model. Not media mogul, up-and-coming Oprah Jr.

My mother is staying with us, and subsequently sleeps in our living room. So unless she wore earplugs and averted her eyes, she was cornered into joining me and Heather in our shameful, contest-tv, "I shouldn't be watching this" addiction.

I have to say, I think it's going to be a good cycle this time 'round. This year, there are a lot of girls with a lot of spunk and "no you di'nt" attitutde.

A five-minute sampling of 'tude' highlights and wacky judge antics...

Minute 23: "Shut up, bitch! You're dead in my book!"
Minute 24: [Sobs. Hugs. Sobs. Hugs.] "I could never do nothin' like that. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry. Wahhh..."
Minute 25: "Bitch, if you touch me, you're gonna die!"
Minute 28: The judges pretend to drink a contestant's breast milk.

In order to increase the drama, the judges are always trying to "therapize" the models by having them release their past abuses, insecurities, and painful childhoods on national tv. I feel it's morally reprehensible, but........extremely entertaining and exploitative.

It usually takes me about 4-5 episodes before I can determine a winner. And I have been right multiple times. But this year, I am going out on a limb and proclaiming America's Next Top Model to be....

FATIMA

Fatima hails from motherland Africa, but has grown up in Boston. Her big breakdown story was the tribal female circumcision performed on her when she was a girl. And I admit, that is one of the worst I've heard. Also, it brings attention to that terrible global issue. Just as Heather, from Cycle 9, brought attention to Asperger's Syndrome, a form of autism. But I don't think they will be bringing up her circumcision throughout the season. At least I hope they don't. It would be kind of awkward if they did.

Granted, in all 9 "cycles" of this show, they have never turned out a highly successful and recognizable model. But I believe that one day, Tyra will ultimately discover the next version of herself, Cindi, Naomi, Giselle, Heidi or Kate. And until that day happens, I will be in front of the TV, rooting on all those insecure, emaciated wannabes on their desperate attempt at success for doing nothing but being pretty.

SNOW DAY!!!

Not really...

I'm posting as a way of electronically "rain dancing" the snow to me, just as our Native American friends do in times of drought.

It's February, and I am in a snow drought.

I love snow. I love the way it muffles all sound in the morning - like you're in a padded room. I like the usual warmer weather that accompanies it. I like NOT driving in it (that's why it's so great here). I like the crunch of powder under my shoes as I try to re-enact the "Footprints" poem. (no joke, I've done it once, by myself - it's hard). And mostly, I like the way it covers this concrete jungle in a blanket of clean fluffiness. All the dirt, gum stains, oil spots, and dog/human feces disappear into the cold depths of pure, frozen, flakes of white water.


This is a picture of a stunning February morning in 2006. It was a perfect Sunday morning, as we trudged through two feet of snow to our church five blocks away. My sister's family was visiting us. We had 27" of new snow in a 12 hour period. The most in recorded weather history for NYC - about 300 yrs. Something big interrupted. Everyone slowed down a little in this crazy place, things were a little more quiet, and for about two days, the snow maintained it's whiteness from eventual destruction by a million pedestrian footsteps. It was magic! ....Until Mr. Hankey emerged, once again, and proclaimed ....

"Hidee Ho" ... "You're in New York, sucka!"

The Changing of the Gaurd

It's amazing how the beautiful arrival of a baby can cause such an initial disturbance in the lives of the parents; so much so, that they require a third parent until adjustments can be made.....especially in this city.

This is my ode to the self-sacrificing women that have left their safe happy valley for the mean streets of the big apple, just to assist us in what we need while we adjust to having a third.

Margaret Gayle Herrick - age 4 1/2 - was named after these women. She has a lot to live up to.

The first assistant was Heather's mother, Grandma Gayle. She was here from a few days before Stella's birth, until just yesterday. Not only did she help with support as a birthing coach and babysitter on delivery day, she tried her best to maintain a sense of peace and tranquility in our cramped little home so mom Heather could rest and relax with the new one.

You have to understand, we don't have the comforts of suburbia such as, laundry facilities in the home, or a car, or even a space to really be alone in our 110 yr. old apartment.

-40 lbs. of laundry have to be carted, weekly, down stairs and down the block to the expensive corner laundry mat. -Groceries have to be carried or carted back home on the same said laundry cart(no bulk foods or 50-roll toilet paper packs loaded into the SUV).

-Taking our other two toddlers to/from school or playgroups, etc. while doing laundry, and picking up groceries, without anything but a stroller and the subway, is quite a physical/emotional feat.

-And finally, finding quiet solitude in our apartment for mom and the newborn is really impossible unless the other kids are out of the apartment and our neighbors have decided not to BLAST their Reggaetone music into the alley all day and night(because apparently, the whole neighborhood would like to hear this loud monotonous banging in their heads until 2 am).

So, having an extra hand for Heather, while I'm at work, to help do that laundry, and groceries, and child removal to the playground, is a HUGE blessing.

Heather and I have been "alone" without Grandma help for two days. I stayed home from work yesterday so Margaret could go to school, because new-mom Heather really shouldn't be trucking an infant and two kids on a bus ride into the Bronx yet. And the laundry had to be done. I forget how many clothes newborns go through for doing nothing all day. And, even though I'm capable of cooking food for my family, as a special Valentine's treat, Kismat Cafe blessed us with Masala, Curry, and the best seafood Kurma you could ask for (hooray for NYC delivering any kind of food to your door, even McDonalds). But today they are all alone, since I had to go back to work.

Comforting a bruised Cole-noggin

Thankfully, tomorrow is the changing of the Grandma Gaurd with the arrival of Margaret's first namesake. Grandma Margaret, my mom, is taking the red-eye to JFK to save us from ourselves and this big, scary, and inconvenient city (no joke, someone was shot and killed across the street from us the day after Stella was born.....scary....even though, we feel surprisingly safe in our neighborhood...). She will be here for ten days. And by the end of those ten days, we must be ready to return to the rigors and reality of parenthood in the city.....by ourselves. Boo-hoo.

We've done it with two.....why not three? Right?

P.S.... In addition to praising our beloved mothers, this time I am 'fishing' for empathy and support. If you empathize or support our situation........give us a "holla!" , or "what-what"(hands in the air), or even a "girlfren...shoot", as they say in our neck of the hood.

Better than..."You Know What"

+

7 oz. semi-sweet BAKING chocolate (55% cocoa content or higher)
6 large eggs
1/3 tsp. salt

1. Seperate 6 Large Eggs
- whites in clean mixing bowl
- yolks in separate medium bowl

2. Add 1/3 tsp. salt to egg whites

3. Whisk egg whites until stiff peaks (easiest in electric mixer)

4. Melt 7 oz. semi-sweet baking chocolate in double boiler
-Take off heat

5. Slowly incorporate melted chocolate into egg yolk bowl (not the other way around)
-Mix until smooth

6. Slowly fold in chocolate mixture into the stiff peaks. A small portion at a time. Fold until lump free and consistently brown.

7. Cover and refrigerate for at least 3 hours.

Enjoy topped with fresh whipped cream. (BTW, use powdered sugar instead of granulated, it won't get watery and stay fluffier)

WARNING:

Upon consumption, you make experience signs of euphoria, delight, and bounce up and down in your chair. Another side effect may include a desire for more, which may eventually lead to what is called among connoisseurs as...
CHOCOGASM!!!

RAT!!!

In order to have 'options' for entry into the NYC Public School system, Margaret has to take tests, yes, as a 4 yr. old, to see if she can qualify for certain programs. It would take to long to explain....just believe me, finding the right school, even for kindergarten, in NYC is a ridiculously difficult process. It's usually a bad idea to just send your kid to the closest school to your house, and trust that it will be a safe and positive environment. You have to be selective and careful.

We received notice of her test date/time/location only two days before the test. And the location was in a very inconvenient part of the city to get to. I guess part of the test was to see how serious the parents are about getting their kid there on a Saturday morning.

Since mom just had a baby a fews day prior, I got to take her, just her and me. And boy, was it an adventure. We live on the most northern tip of Manhattan(Inwood). Her test was on the lower-east side in the heart of Chinatown. Not in the Canal Street - touristy part of Chinatown - but in the heart of no-English signs, we are the only white people around, Chinatown. After a bus, and three subway transfers, we arrived in the middle of another country.

The funny things is, this foreign land is only 5 miles from our house.

Thanks to Googlemaps, I was able to find the school quickly. What a beautiful school. I started to wish Margaret could come here. We were surprised to find Margaret's friends and their parents, from our neighborhood, also there for the test. Interestingly, we were the only group there. I guess they were really testing our resolve, and not just our kids' IQs.

After an hour-long test(don't get me started-she's only 4), Margaret emerged from her one-on-one, with the tester, full of smiles and confidence.

"That was so much fun, Daddy!", was her reaction to the experience. Well, I guess she is cut out for the rigors of the educational system in this city. Go Margaret.

Since it was a long trip, a long test, and would ultimately end up being a long day, I decided to really make it a real "day" for Margaret and me. Also, I could sense her feelings of displacement with the arrival of little Stella in the home. She needed some one-on-one time.

We found a great noodle-house dive - Great N.Y Noodletown, and ate the most delicious shrimp dumpling soup and chicken with bean sprouts.


Then we walked to a fruit market to get some exotic sweets for dinner that night.

Longan Fruit
(similar to Lychee)

Pomelo
(in grapefruit family)

All along the way we saw dancing dragons and New Yorkers celebrating the Chinese New Year. 2008 - The Year of the Rat!!!

I let Margaret pick out a pretty pink trinket from a local vendor. After first calling it her "Jewels of Terror"(I have no idea why), she changed it to her "Chinese Dream Catcher". She's been having scary dreams lately. Big imagination, you see....

After a fun cultural exploration of our Chinese neighbors, we reversed our complicated travails to our uptown 'hood, enriched, ready for a nap and a Pipers Kilt burger.

Thanks, New York City. My daughter loves you.

A little info. on NYC's Chinatown
New York City’s Chinatown, the largest Chinatown in the United States—and the site of the largest concentration of Chinese in the western hemisphere—is located on the lower east side of Manhattan. Its two square miles are loosely bounded by Kenmore and Delancey streets on the north, East and Worth streets on the south, Allen street on the east, and Broadway on the west. With a population estimated between 70,000 and 150,000.

Sweet Breads.....the Yummy Kind

With the arrival of a new baby, comes the arrival of familial assistance, i.e. grandmas. Heather's mother has graciously and selflessly given her life over to our struggles with toddlers and and new infant in this crazy city. She has been an immense help with everything from nighttime feedings, to laundry, to toddler distraction, and to cooking. And she keeps the fridge stocked with Diet Coke. She really is a godsend.
And of course when you have family around, you continually make dietary, "it's a special time", excuses for eating things that are bad for you, but are just so darn tasty. Pizza, chinese, burgers, and most recently, waffles with lots of butter and whipped cream. This yummy Sunday brunch is the impetus for my ramblings today.

What kind of person are you? When given waffles, I will gladly eat them and enjoy them. But I have too many hangups with them to search them out, or to put forth any effort in cooking them myself. Early in the morning, I can't deal with uneven butter spread or pools of cold syrup when I only wanted a drizzle. See what I mean?....hangups.

My name is Matthew Herrick....
and I am a french toast person.

Some people believe that astrology can define what their core personality is all about. Others believe in color spectrums, auras, and other crazy crystal wearing, let the 'universe' speak to me, kind of hoo-ha. I believe that you can determine a person's core nature by their preference of the following three cooked breakfast breads. In no particular order:

Pancakes

French Toast

Waffles

They obviously originate from the same breakfast treat ancestor, and they serve the same purpose - which is, to allow people to unashamedly have dessert for breakfast by coming in a bread form, and being called by a healthier name.

My wife prefers them in a different order than I. She likes Waffles, Pancakes, then French Toast. This is why we have a happy, balanced marriage. I put my breakfast treats in the following order of preference, in eating and preparing:

1. French Toast
-An alteration or life extension of existing materials. A hearty, multi-nutrient (whole-grain,eggs,milk) treat. Additions are usually limited to syrup, powdered sugar, and occasionally, jam or fruit.
This person is resourceful and desires things of substance and quality in their lives. They have the potential of being a little pretentious and tough, but they always try to make lemonade from lemons. Or in this case, delicious, soggy- breaded goodness from stale, unwanted heels, and old bread. They can present themselves with flair to others if they choose, but it is unneeded to impress.

2. Pancakes
- The most versatile of the three. Usually very processed and very unhealthy, due to the common internal addition of items such as: chocolate chips, food coloring, bananas, nuts, or any addition to spice up the flavor of bland, foamy bread. Can also be made into any shape.
This person has a spontaneous nature that is not afraid to splurge and think outside of the box of conventional eating or life choices. They understand that moderation and self-control are not always desired attributes. They are prone to say things like, "live life a little" or "come-on, it's a special day, just one won't hurt ya". They also choose to look different on a frequent basis.....just because.

3. Waffles
- The most predictable, yet treacherous of the three, due to crevices, and variances in thickness and shape. Usually made of the same ingredients, and cooked in the same way. The most common variances occur in the toppings. This is the one most prone to incorporate fruit and cream as part of it's embellishments. They generally are the most attractive of the three.
Just like the waffle, this person is solid, dependable, and predictable. And with a little bit of flair, talent, and personality, they are the favorites of any social class or demographic. Just as the waffle's likability reaches from the frozen-food isles, to expensive restaurants, and even fried chicken platters, this person can adapt to any situation with pleasing acceptance and love. But be cautious, just like the waffle, this person can be hard to handle. You never know what explosion of flavor you'll get with each bite. Also, they always dress to impress.

WHAT'S YOUR PREFERENTIAL ORDER?

P.S. If you like what you read when you come by, please let me know you're there. I want to hear your voice. Even if it's just an "AMEN" or "Go to hell, you big, dumb jerk!" Anything will do. It's keeps me motivated to blog more often. Thanks for indulging my "fishing" for recognition.

The Stellar Arrival

February 5, 2008

4:50 pm
7 lbs. 12 oz.
21 in.


After very courageous and difficult work by Heather, and a smooth labor, about three times quicker than the first two babies, the star finally emerged ready to face the scary world!!!

"Put me back!!!"


"Do I know you...?"

The Most Beautiful New Mother in The World!!!

The Siblings

The Adoring Sister

The Herrick Women

Grandma Gayle

A very happy Mom


Heather, Matthew, Margaret & Cole proudly present...

STELLA KATE HERRICK

We couldn't be more happy, or cramped in our little home.
Thank you all for your prayers and support.

VOTE

My final plea...if you want a different and better country than you put up with under the Republican machine......

VOTE Tuesday, February 5th

And in case you need more reasons to vote for BARACK, read below the red, white, and blue(and charming photo display).

O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A O B A M A

• Some kids piss their name in the snow. Barack Obama can piss his name into concrete.

• Barack Obama' calendar goes straight from March 31st to April 2nd; no one fools Barack Obama.

• Barack Obama once visited the Virgin Islands. They are now The Islands.

• Barack Obama' tears cure cancer. Too bad he has never cried.

• Barack Obama was originally cast as the main character in 24, but was replaced by the producers when he managed to kill every terrorist and save the day in 12 minutes and 37 seconds.

• Barack Obama counted to infinity - twice.

• Barack Obama can speak Braille.

• Barack Obama owns the greatest Poker Face of all-time. It helped him win the 1983 World Series of Poker despite him holding just a Joker, a Get out of Jail Free Monopoly card, a 2 of clubs, 7 of spades and a green #4 card from the game Uno.

• Barack Obama does not sleep. He waits.

• If you spell Barack Obama wrong on Google it doesn't say, "Did you mean Barack Obama?" It simply replies, "Run while you still have the chance."

• Barack Obama puts the "laughter" in "manslaughter".

• Barack Obama can do a wheelie on a unicycle.

• Barack Obama once won a game of Connect Four in 3 moves.

• Barack Obama died ten years ago, but the Grim Reaper can't get up the courage to tell him.

• Superman owns a pair of Barack Obama pajamas.

• Once a cobra bit Barack Obama' leg. After five days of excruciating pain, the cobra died.

• Barack Obama does not hunt because the word hunting implies the possibility of failure. Barack Obama goes killing.

• Barack Obama can slam revolving doors.

• Barack Obama can delete the Recycling Bin.

Anthroponomastics, anyone...?

In continuation of my last post regarding the naming of our third child, I would like to explore the way names morph into completely different names.

I was given a name that screams for abbreviation - Matthew. I was mostly called Matt growing up. But I also got Matty, when I was young, and Mattress from my dad. Since I was about 19, I made a conscientious decision to be Matthew. The name my parents gave me. I liked it, in the way I like Matthew Broderick or McConaughay or Modine. Save Ferris! So for 12 yrs. I have introduced myself to new people as Matthew, but 90% of them immediately call me Matt, without permission. Interesting, huh? It doesn't bother me much, except that I try to call people by how they introduce themselves.

I call my wife, Heather, by her real name, and sometimes Heth(voiced 'th'), or Heathanna(combo of middle name).

I believe in naming children by what you will officially call them. For example, we named Margaret after my mother, with full intention of calling her Margaret - not Margie, Margot, Peggy, or any other incarnation. Guess what, people automatically call her Maggie. And even her 5-yr.-old self always introduces herself as Margaret. I do sometimes call her Mag-bum, or Mag-pie. And in our home, our son Cole is quite often referred to as Coley-bug.

But what about when a name takes on a life of its own and morphs into something completely different. Examples:

When she was younger, Heather was called:
Heather Anna Banana...then
Anne-Banan-Banoo...then just
Banoo.

Her brother, Shane was called:
Shaney-Mikey-Mook...then just
Mook

My niece, Alexis was/is called:
Lexi...then
Lexi-Lou...then
Lou...then just
Louie (see right)




WHAT ARE SOME MORPHED NAMES YOU POSSESS OR KNOW OF?

By the way, ANTHROPONOMASTICS is the study of proper human names.

Set the Beeper

Does this look like the face of a boy who would whack his sister? I think not! But do not be deceived.

I haven't posted at Segullah for a while, but you can read a funny from Cole there today.

The Segullah blog has started a category that gets a post or two a week called, "Slice of Life."

I love it! Feel free to send me stories like these anytime. Hope you enjoy.

Maddow & Me

My heart's all a'flutter. I feel a little 'wicked'.

GALINDA:
What is this feeling, So sudden and new?

ELPHABA:
I felt the moment I laid eyes on you;

GALINDA:
My pulse is rushing;

ELPHABA:
My head is reeling;

GALINDA:
My face is flushing;

BOTH:
What is this feeling?
Fervent as a flame
Does it have a name?

(music swells....)

I'll tell you what it is. . . . . it's my first lesbian crush.

"How does that work?", you may ask. Well, I'm not a lesbian (in case you were wondering), but I do have an innocent crush on a very handsome, intelligent, and funny lesbian named Rachel Maddow.



My Kieth(of the Olbermann persuasion) introduced me to her. She recently became a permanent figure on MSNBC as a political analyst. She appears frequently on "Countdown" with Keith and "Hardball" with Chris Matthews, and has played a substantial role in the primary election coverage.

I believe it's perfectly healthy to have an innocent, and distant, celebrity crush. I know my wife has a few, both male and female(Heidi Klum). In the past, I have gravitated toward elegant, long-haired, actress types such as Scarlett Johansson, Halle Berry, or Cate Blanchett. All beautiful and talented in their own feminine way.


Why, you may ask, would I have a crush on the first openly-gay Rhodes Scholar and political talk-show host for Air America Radio, that just happens to look like a 16-yr.-old boy? Because she is a mind, not a face. Every thing she says makes perfect sense to me. She consistently "zings" her older, male, and more experienced counterparts on most issues, with her dry wit and fresh perspective, and still comes off as your affable 'pal' from high school gym class (when you played softball, of course).

Since she comes from talk radio, where looks don't matter, MSNBC has done their best to 'doll' her up for the camera. They can see beyond her boyish looks, and butch delivery...as long as they can slap on a little lip-gloss, put her in a smart pant-suit, and curl her bangs, just so....so that she resembles something that looks like an adult woman.


Thank you Rachel. Your crooked smile slays me every night.

...A Rose by Any Other Name...

What's in a name? That which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet;
Romeo & Juliet (II,ii,1-2)

What's in a name?......I'll tell you......a lot of head scratching and frustration.

As the arrival of our third child is drawing nigh, Heather and I have tried our darndest to choose a name for our emerging little girl.

With the first two, we had many options and ultimately narrowed it down and had decided a while before their arrival. For some reason, we can't pin down a name for this one. And she's due in less than a week.

One thing we have learned, is that if you do have options on the table, don't share them with inquiring strangers. Why? Because if the child is not physically on the earth, but still in-utero, these discerning people feel the freedom to pass judgment on your name ideas, even if you didn't ask for their opinion. "Hhmmm, I don't know about that...", and "Ugghh, it's sounds too old-fashioned", or "No, that sounds like a dog's name". The insults go on...

For this very reason, we have learned to not share the name options of our future daughter, except with close family and friends, until she is physically out of the womb. At which point, nobody would dare pass judgment, to your face anyway, on the baby's name.

So for now, her name is........as Cole has decided.........Baby Horsey!

My Talking Heads

I never thought I would be a watcher of all things political. I used to quickly change channels whenever I saw a news program that wasn't actually the 6 or 10 o'clock news.

About 5 yrs. ago, I slowly transitioned into the comedic parodies of mainstream news programs, like:

"The Daily Show"
with John Stewart

...and then...

"The Colbert Report".
I even went to a taping.

.....And when I was feeling a little naughty (HBO) and extra 'liberal',
"Real Time with Bill Maher".

I was a regular watcher, but still in control. After a while, I became unfulfilled with the brief coverage and shtick that overshadowed the issues at hand.

......then it all changed......

About a year ago, good friend of mine, we'll call him J.J. for short, sent me a clip of a political pundit giving the most stirring commentary on the travesty that has been, and is, the Bush presidency. I knew I always hated George W., but he confirmed the "truthiness" of my disdain. His words moved me to tears of affirmation, pangs of guilt, and instilled in me a desire to act, and to be more aware and involved. That pundit was Keith Olbermann. And I
.....am a "Countdown" addict (MSNBC 8pm/12am).

I have to get my fix, nightly, or I feel neglectful of the "political machine". I never thought I would become this attached to a former ESPN Sportscaster-turned political talking head. I guess I can't resist his perfectly styled, silver-flecked 'doo' , or his square ("I'm intelligent") glasses. He makes me laugh at all the right moments. And how can you resist a man who, every night, calls out the 3 "Worst People in the World" while underscored by Bach's Cantata in D minor. Brilliant. He's a "guilt friend". You know, one of those friends that you don't hang out with socially, but have to check in with, regularly, or you feel like a bad friend, or person, for that matter.

I thought there was only room for one "Keith" figure in my life, until things started heating up with the presidential primaries. In covering the 'play-by-play' of the elections, my Keith joined forces with another MSNBC pundit, that in my view, was previously only a parody on SNL - Chris Matthews. The two of them make a political cocktail that suck you deep into the pixels of your TV and never let go. Hence I started watching his show nightly as well. The pathetic thing is, they cover the same stories every night, and I still tune into both shows. I guess I just like to hear them twice, with different, catchy, deliveries.

Like all addictions, mine has deeply affected my loved ones. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, my wife, Heather, has lost a piece of her regular mode of operandi in life, moderation. She has fallen prey and become consumed with the affable smile and snowy-blond comb over of Chris Matthews. I think she has a secret crush. She keeps on talking about these weird dreams she has been having lately. She blames them on pregnancy, but I think they originate from playing a little too much "Hardball" with a certain, wink-happy, middle-aged man on MSNBC.

I have really enjoyed the fact that she has become obsessed with something. I have always felt alone in that, in our marriage. And it's really fun to be able to discuss one of my obsessions with her. Usually she just kindly listens and rolls her eyes.

Sometimes, I feel guilty about dragging my wife into the deep, dark caverns of the liberal left, and the tempestuous sea of the biased media......but then I remember that sin loves company......and that catchy saying alone justifies my actions, and makes me feel better about my evil ways.

I will save my thoughts, for another post, on my secret crush for Rachel Maddow. Boy is she "handsome". Grrrrrr.

The Casseroles are Comin'!!!

Because our baby will be here any day, Heather and I had a short discussion with a good friend at church regarding the fulfillment of post-natal servitude doled out on new mothers by the sweet sisters of the Relief Society. She wanted to set a date for when "dinners" would start being delivered to our home. Lasagna, Mystery Casseroles, Cheesy "Funeral" Potatotes, etc... It's very sweet and thoughtful, and yes, I know it gives the sisters an opportunity to serve. I probably shouldn't have interjected and shared my opinion on the matter and squelch her giving heart, but I have to admit, I'm a little offended by the whole idea.

Yes, I admit that I am modern, metrosexual, fully-liberated husband and father of 2008. It's not the 1950's, and I wasn't born or raised in an era where I fulfill my fatherly duties from 9-5, come home, and put my feet up while I wait for my lovely wife(in full make-up, and rick-racked dress) to fulfill my every need, and keep the children from bothering me while I watch the game. (BTW, I don't even watch games...how's that for progressive?)
Call me crazy, but I believe in being an equal-partnered parent, nurturing and loving father, homemaker, child-rearer, and yes, a cook. And I'm a good one.....a cook that is.
While my wife and I are dealing with the challenges of a new-born baby, and two small children, I fully believe that I can take care of the gastronomical needs of my family.

I appreciate service, and I don't want to inhibit others from serving, but there must be another way in which the sisters can assist the families going through this difficult transition in the home. I have a sense that the RS feels it must serve, and that food delivery is the "go-to" option. It's seems a bit archaic and "old-church" (like old-school). Service comes in a variety of shapes and colors and is appreciated in all forms. Let's be modern and creative. You could blog for us, or take our kids so we can go on a short date (between feedings), or if it must be food, you could just just order a spread of Indian from Kismat (212-795-8633),

....mmm.....saag paneer....,

or maybe you could simply pay my bills so I can spend even more time with my wife and new little one.........just some thoughts.

Ultimately, this post has been a declaration of my PRIDE. Yes, I am a prideful, modern, dad. And I know the RS sisters don't like pride. So, now that I have admitted my pride, maybe I should just let nice people be nice, in their own way, and keep my nose out of the whole thing.

That's what Heather would want. And it's her time to get whatever she wants!

Bring on the casseroles!