There's No Such Things as Monsters:

Giuliana's response when I told her Frankenstein wasn't real: "Carolyn, if the Easter Bunny is real then so is Frankenstein!!!" Not sure about her logic, but she spoke with great conviction.

Untitled:

Giuwels begins a sentence to me one morning with the words, "Fifteen years ago when I was four...." She is currently 5.

Giuwels asks me, "You know what's scary?" What? "The house of a nudist!" (She is trying to say The House of Anubis, which is a teen thriller TV show on Nickelodeon that she's seen commercials for, and has scared her half to death.)

Michael runs upstairs wearing socks, gym shorts, no shirt but a thick red flannel jacket, a beanie, and carry an Indiana Jones style whip that he has just discovered in the vast caverns of stuff that fill his room. He spends the next 15 minutes violently whipping the air for the entertainment of me and Vinny (and trying not to accidentally whip himself in the face, which, unfortunately, happens a few times. Michael informs us, "Now you can see why the job of whipping would be dangerous!").

Later, Recycle Boy makes an appearance. Recycle Boy fights pollution, runs in slow motion, and can even levitate--which provides no end of laughter for much of the evening.

One day, while leaving the park, Vinny threw his shoe into someone's backyard. He was trying to knock a pine cone out of a tree for Giuwels, but that didn't happen. We knocked at the front door for a few afternoons, hoping they'd let us go out back and get the shoe. No one was ever home, so finally, Cheryl suggested we jump the fence. Vinny had arrived home that day with a canister of neon yellow slime called "Atomic Goo" which he had made in school. He fitted this into the front of a rolled up old pizza box, and we stormed the backyard with an Atomic Goo Gun! Sadly, the shoe was gone. We left a note on the man's door, and later he called and told me in an exasperated voice that he'd thrown the shoe away and that he found all kinds of stuff thrown into his backyard by kids, and could he really be expected to keep all of it??? I suppose not.

Last Friday, the two fish died. Squirt and Shamu, may the rest in peace. The circumstances of their death are, forgive the pun, fishy. It is believed that Giuliana accidentally killed them by either transferring them into chlorine water or flooding them with Ammo-lock (a solution that, in small amounts, makes tap water safer for them but, in large amounts, may prove fatal). We literally watched the fish die, as they slowly turned on their backs, fought less and less vigorously for life, and eventually sank to the bottom of their tank. Horrified, I changed their water as soon as we realized what was happening, did everything I could think of to save them, but it was too late. I was devastated; took it far worse than the kids did. Vinny said, with the wisdom and resignation of someone much older than 8, "Well, fish don't last forever, Carolyn." Ah, not much lasts forever, but thank God for the few, precious things that do.

Hopefully, we will buy new fish soon.

Late Night Phone Call:

I was sitting in the airport terminal at my gate, waiting for them to finally begin boarding my already delayed red-eye flight to Florida when my phone rings. Receiving a call from Michael. My first thought is that something is wrong--why else would he be calling me? I answer and Michael says, "Carolyn? You haven't left yet? Scotty won American Idol!!"

I've been pulling for Scotty ever since the poor, tasteless people of America voted off Casey. So I was happy to hear the good news. But I was, by far, way happier that Michael--who hates talking on the phone (and will do just about anything to get out of having to make a phone call) had called me of his own initiative.

I hung up thinking, "I am officially family." Not immediate family, of course. Those are sacred boundaries that I would never want to traverse. But family--comfortable-be-yourself-seen-the-best-and-the-worst-of-you family.

I like it.

Something that makes me sad:

Sitting in the Hermosa Beach Dance Studio, watching a mother play around on her iPhone and chat with her friends while the nanny feeds the newborn baby his bottle.

Vinny Saves the Day!

I come into work early Wednesday morning, wake up Vinny first and then Giuliana. While I'm helping Giuwels pick out her clothes for the day, I hear Vinny calling me, "Carolyn! Come here!! I want to show you something!!!" So off I go across the hallway, to see Vinny's latest favorite treasure. He hands me the silver-colored Nordstrom box that his mom recently gave him to play with, and says, with anticipation, "Open it!" By now Giuwels is standing in the room beaming because she is in on the secret. I open it and see the circular tin container for his Mickey Mouse pocket watch. "Open that too!" Vinny commands, and so I pull off the lid, and there, to my extreme astonishment and shock, lying in the small circle of black felt, is my wedding ring. I look at the ring finger on my left hand and notice that it's empty. For the briefest, most stunned moment, I feel like Vinny is proposing to me, and then I remember that I took the ring off yesterday when I was putting on Giuliana's tights for ballet. I didn't want my ring to tear the tights, and then we were in such a hurry to get out the door that I left my ring sitting on Giuliana's dresser! "Vinny! Thank you! You saved my life! Oh my gosh! Thank you! I can never thank you enough!" Vinny and Giuwels are both talking at the same time, trying to tell me how they came about saving my ring. They are both thrilled by how close the ring came to being lost--Giuwels found it in the midst of a crazy stuffed animal-throwing fight between the two of them and said, "Look what I found, Vinny!" When Vinny saw it, he knew right away that it was mine. He then informs me that he tried it on all his fingers while they watched American Idol that night, and then he decided to put it somewhere safe. And that is the story of how I lost my most expensive possession and how Vinny saved the day!

Education:

I love that Giuliana is still so young. I love how she comes upstairs at night in one-piece footed pajamas with her hair wet from the bath. I love that she wants to sit in my lap while we watch American Idol, and I love that she wants to eat peanut butter toast with Cracklin' Oat Bran for dinner. I love walking upstairs and seeing her Pillow Pets dressed in aprons and chef hats having a tea party on the kitchen floor.

One day, after getting dressed, she asks me, "Carolyn, do I look sassy?" I ask her, "Giuwels, what do you think sassy means?" "Fabulous!" she responds.

We are driving in the car one afternoon, running errands, and she pipes up from the backseat, "Evan wants to marry me!" "Oh really? Do you want to marry him?" She shakes her head, "No." "Why not?" Her nose wrinkles as she makes a face and says, "You know how boys fart? Well, he farts a lot!" Trying to keep a straight face, I ask her who she does want to marry, and she tells me, "Vinny. Because he's so funny! But don't tell him."

One night, after going to see Bugsy Malone and eating at Rocky Cola Cafe, we're driving home, and Vinny is reading the signs off the stores we pass. "Party supply store...music supply store..." he calls out as we drive past. On the corner is a lingerie shop with lots of lacy undergarments displayed in the front window, and Giuwels cries out, "Boob supply store!!!"

The family went to church for Cheryl's birthday on Sunday, and on Monday at lunch Giuwels reminds me that we need to pray. I ask her if she would like to pray, and to my amazement she says yes! So we bow our heads and her tremulous little voice begins, "Thank you, God, for our wonderful food and for the fun I have at Ella's house, and for giving....uhh, I forgot what I was going to say...That's all...Amen." And I am sitting in my chair trying not to cry because I've never heard her pray before, and because even though she's probably praying for the first time in her young life, she's actually teaching me how to pray.

Giuliana is learning not to say "Oh my God." She tells me that "Oh my God" is a bad word, and I try to explain why: Because God is a person and we want to say his name kindly because we love him, we don't want to say his name rudely, as if we don't care. She asks, "Carolyn, do you like God?" and I say, "Yes, I love him." She grins and says, "I bet God is smiling right now up in the clouds at you and me!"

And I know in my heart that Giuliana is teaching me about God in a way that all my Torrey books and theological treatises never could. She approaches God without all the baggage of fear and guilt that I've accumulated over the years, and through her childlike faith, I experience the certainty of God's warmth and love, and the assurance that God, yes even God, likes us and is smiling right now at you and at me.

Two Things, Errr...Actually, Three

I painted my nails hot pink, and it's making me so happy!

New obsession? The show HOARDERS on A&E. Intriguing. Disturbing. So horrible you have to watch.

That's all.

Except that I was having a dream this morning in which I was really mad at Sean (I can't remember why), and when his alarm went off, I woke up and punched him really hard!!!

HFCS:

Cheryl is on a campaign against High Fructose Corn Syrup.
The kids know they're not supposed to eat anything with this forbidden substance.
Michael and Vinny eat eggs for breakfast on Friday mornings--extra protein to help them on their tests in school.
Vinny does not like eggs.
So he tells me, "Carolyn! I can't eat these eggs! They give me high fructose corn syrup!!!"

Fluffy-Face

There's the most adorable little shih-tzu puppy at our local pet store. Sean and I like to stop by there occasionally and visit the dogs and dream about one day having our own pet. We've both fallen in love with the shih-tzu pup we call Fluffy-Face. His face--which is always smushed against the glass of his tiny cage--is so covered with hair that the only thing peeking out is a little black, wet nose.

Yesterday they unlocked the cage and let us pet him. He got so overly excited about his cage opening, and us petting him that he was almost frantic with joy. The image I had to leave with was little Fluffy-face pawing at the glass as we walked away.

Although Sean loves Fluffy-Face just as much as I do, he has to remind me that we cannot afford the upkeep of a dog right now. In my head, I know he is right. But I'm overwhelmed by this deep, primal urge to have something small and helpless and cuddly to care for and lavish my love upon.

Tonight, during our family prayers, we prayed for Fluffy-Face, and all the animals at Pet City, to find loving, happy homes. I just wish Fluffy-Face's home could be with us.

A collection of ordinary moments:

Birth

Giuwels asked me on the way to preschool this morning how dogs have puppies. I said, "They keep the baby in their tummy until it's old enough to be born, just like people do." Apparently, this wasn't what was troubling her because she then asked, "But how do the puppies get out? Does the Mommy throw them up?"

Betsy "Rose"

Vinny's flag is almost done. We just need to put a few more stitches in it tomorrow morning, and then he can take it to school with him. In second grade he has to do three enormous "interdisciplinary" projects--all of which involve researching/reading, creating something, writing, and speaking/speech. This last project is in celebration of Memorial and Flag Day and he has to create an American flag out of whatever material he chooses. When he got the assignment, I checked out a bunch of books on American flags from the library, to get some inspiration. I'm not sure how helpful they proved to be, but--aside from the fact that pictures of the American flag flying at Ground Zero prompted me to blurt out the history of 9/11 (which Cheryl then informed me Vinny had never heard about, and in retrospect, he was probably too young to hear about [WHOOPS]), or that a random (read: disturbing) picture of John Wilkes Booth assassinating Lincoln proved a difficult explanation as well (what does that have to do with the flag anyway?), we came across countless retellings of the story of Betsy Ross--which Vinny pronounced (very endearingly, I might add) Betsy Rose. The image of our noble forebear must have imprinted on Vinny's mind because when I asked him how he wanted to make his flag, he said: sew it. So we had a massive expedition to the Joanne's in Torrance, and since then our lives have been an endless repetition of: cutting felt, threading needles, and using yarn to piece together our homemade American flag. It's actually quite exhilarating, making something with your own hands. Vinny keeps telling me how much fun it is, and he really has done his fair share of the work. I've been so proud of him, doing little blanket stitches all around the edges of the flag. Plus it's been very cozy in the evenings, sitting around sewing together. It really takes me back to Little House on the Prairie and makes me feel like I'm snug in a cabin in the woods with Ma and Pa.

The Jersey Boys & Peter Pan

Having Michael around is great. He does tons of magic tricks (which are actually really good, although I don't work too hard trying to figure them out because I really don't want the "magic" of it to wear off for me. It's much easier to be enthusiastic and interested when you really DON'T know how he's doing it). He plays fun (if not good) music. He makes me laugh by googling things like "Funny Pictures" or different Disney characters and then showing us the pictures. He googled Peter Pan for me tonight and one of the images that popped up was a couple dressed as Peter and Tink--who were obviously a little socially awkward. "Peter" has what can best be described as a Monstrous Bowl Cut, and as Giuwels remarked so candidly, "Tinker Bell is supposed to have blond hair!"

Michael and I share an undying passion for Jersey Boys, and even though neither of us has actually seen the musical, we know the sound track by heart and take every opportunity we can to recite it/sing along with it. So our evenings go like this: Carolyn and Vinny sitting at the kitchen table playing Rummikube. Michael sitting at the kitchen table listening to Jersey Boys and singing along very LOUDly. "BEGGING, BEGGING YOUUUUU, PUT YOUR LOVIN' HAND OUT BABY...." After listening to "Walk Like a Man" for probably the 7th time, I confessed that this song always made me wish I was, in fact, a man. Why, Michael asks. Isn't it obvious? So that I could walk like a man!!! (And so that I could have my father tell me, "No woman's worth crawling on the earth..." Having been born a girl, that dream will never come true.) There is something truly mysterious and elusive about walking like a man. It must feel good, that's all I can conclude.

Lying about Lettuce:

Giuwels lied to me tonight. I told her she had to eat five more pieces (and they were small pieces, covered in Ranch) of lettuce before she could have dessert. She then switched all the pieces of lettuce to another bowl, and brought the empty bowl to me saying, "I ate all my lettuce, now can I have dessert?" Not surprisingly, I discovered the displaced lettuce, confronted my little sinner, and told her now she had lost dessert and she still had to eat the lettuce. She fell apart. I sent her to her bed, and thought about whether my decision to make her eat the rest of the lettuce was the right one. I decided it smacked of some kind of cruelty or harshness to me. I'm a softie. Also, my childhood years are not so far away that I've forgotten what it feels like to be made to eat something you loathe. Into the midst of my thoughts drifts her voice, calling plaintively from downstairs, "I'm sorry for lying!!!!!" I called her back upstairs and told her she did not have to eat the lettuce, because if she really hates it then she doesn't have to eat it. But I also told her that because she lied and because she needs to learn how dangerous lying is, she will not be getting dessert tomorrow either. It felt good. It felt good to assign a fitting punishment out of a concern for her well-being without being mean or disciplining her out of anger. It also feels good to not be the kind of person who can't change her mind.

Night:

I read Elie Wiesel's Night late into yesterday's evening. Understandably, it left me feeling angry and sad. Most of us would probably agree with Dostoevsky's Ivan Karamazov that the suffering of children is the most impossible, unbearable, and unexplainable thing in the Universe. Wiesel writes of his seven year old sister with long blond hair and a bright red coat marching silently off to the crematoria, and one can't help but insert the children in one's own life into that situation. For me it's Camie, my precious little sister with bright blue eyes who loves to read and imagine and dance. It's Vinny, the enthusiastic little boy who tries to outrun the van when I arrive to pick him up for school. And it's Giuwels, who when I tell her it's time to stop playing with her dolls and clean up her room responds, "But Carolyn, I was just about to marry my boy and girl!"

Wiesel's account gripped me on two levels. One--the unspeakable, unnameable, incomprehensible things experienced by real children, just like the ones I love so completely. But I was also struck by the spiritual anguish and pain of the Jewish people in the face of their apparently utter abandonment by God. The sense of desertion and despair overwhelmed me. I found it best summed up in the statement a Hungarian Jew made to Wiesel one evening in the infirmary, "I have more faith in Hitler than in anyone else. He alone has kept his promises, all his promises, to the Jewish people."

I found myself startlingly angry at God after reading this book. There's the million-dollar-question of Why? And then How? And also, Who are you that you could let this happen? That you would sit by and do nothing? Our questions pinpoint the most painful part: our perceived silence on God's behalf. Perhaps more unforgivable than the fact that it happened is the fact that God has remained silent. He hasn't provided an explanation for any of it. That is what we find unacceptable. Yet there is a strange comfort and peace in lobbying all this anger and all these questions at God: He is there. Being angry at him, however miserable, confirms his presence as well as the intimacy of our relationship.

I almost always respond with a burning emotion first, and just as inevitably that emotion eventually cools to a point where I can logically assess the information and make rational judgments. I usually make decisions out of this calm point, base my life on what I know to be true in this purified stillness. What I know to be true manifests itself in the song of Zechariah, which I was memorizing before I ever picked up Wiesel's book: "Blessed be the Lord God of Israel for he hath visited and redeemed his people and hath raised up a mighty salvation for us in the house of his servant David..." The key word there is visited. God was not absent for any of these horrors. And somehow the fact that the Kingdom of Heaven slipped into the world over 2,000 years ago with the birth of a baby means that the Nazi's Kingdom of Night is far from being the last word on God's love, his Justice, or his ability to care his People.

This little piggy went to the market....

Giuwels and I have been handling the grocery shopping for the past couple of weeks while Nanny Irma (their housekeeper) is in Mexico on vacation. Today I let her push the cart through the store. I also let her fill up our cart with eight ears of corn on the cob. (She finds the process of shucking corn so delightful and desirable that her greatest act of love is telling Vinny that he can shuck some corn with us as well.) As we walked out of Albertson's, she sighed and said, "That was fun." I assumed she must be thinking of her play date earlier in the afternoon, which involved an enormous blow up pool and water slide. "You mean at Ella's?" I ask. "No. In the grocery store." It warms the deepest cockles of my heart to know that this little girl had so much fun on a mundane trip to the market. The realization dawned on me: how much potential there is for glory, beauty, and FUN in every moment of life! Thank God for children and their sparkling, uninhibited enthusiasm. As we walk to van to unload our groceries, she laughs and says, "It was fun when I asked you if we could get more kettle corn [what she calls corn on the cob] and you said no!"

Okay then!

He Likes Me!

Cheryl told me that while I was out of town getting my wisdom removed, she was encouraging the kids for being so self-sufficient one morning and jokingly said, "Wow, we could almost do without Carolyn!" To which Vinny responded, "No! I like Carolyn! I want her to keep coming!"

I will now proceed to live off this compliment for days, weeks, even months.

Innately, I sense that the kids do like me, are even genuinely attached to me, but they are not very expressive or even openly affectionate (being damaged by the abrupt departure of previous nannies is probably the cause of this), and so affirmation like this is in rare supply. (Although Cayla also reminded me that kids don't spend everyday telling their parents how much they love them either. I suppose kids take for granted certain "fixtures" in their lives.)

In conclusion, one of the reasons that Vinny likes me is probably because when he asks if he can throw the hard-boiled eggs that we dyed for Easter (and that have since then proceeded to go bad) off the balcony and into the yard/street, I say "Yes, as long as you pick up all the pieces afterward," and then join him on the balcony to watch the rainbow-colored eggs sail through the sky and splatter on the ground. Later I help him pick up the sticky pieces of yolk and the colorful bits of eggshell littered around the yard and street, and we have much more fun than we ever could have had monotonously eating all those hard-boiled eggs day after day.

I've Been Meaning to Post This:

April 4, 2011, Spring Break
Day One: Happiness
Giuliana, hair flying, turns cartwheels in the April wind and sunshine. Her brothers toss a baseball back and forth in the street, and I am curled up in a red Tommy Bahama lawn chair, coloring and enjoying Spring.


April 5, 2011, Spring Break
Day Two: The Monster of Polliwog Park
Tuesday afternoon the sunlight was too beautiful to stay in doors. I packed up a bag filled with the unwanted heels from our past few loaves of bread, the stale remainder of an angel food cake, and two stacks of white cheddar cheese rice cakes which everyone in the house refuses to eat. Armed with our supplies, Vinny, Giuwels, and I set off for Polliwog Park. There are many things we love to do there. We like to see how close we can get to the dozens of turtles sunning themselves on the banks of the pond. We like to run full speed into a flock of pigeons or sea gulls for the sheer joy of watching them all fly away in a whirl of feathers and wings and indignant squawks. We like to feed the polite pairs of Mallard ducks that swim so calmly up for food. But most of all, we love to toss some crumbs out over the water and then stand quietly back as we wait for the Monster of Polliwog Park to surface. A catfish the size of a small dog, with whiskers as big as pencils, lives in the depths of Polliwog Pond, and to see him is almost as grand as seeing the White Whale. He's enormous, mysterious, hideously repulsive and yet strangely enticing. You want to see him, but when he rises to the surface with his huge vacuum-like mouth sucking up all the food in its path, you're completely horrorstruck that such a creature exists. We spent our afternoon tossing rice cakes onto the water and screaming, "It's a BEAST!" whenever the legendary animal appeared. In conclusion, I can only say that I hope the Monster of Polliwog Park likes cheddar!



April 6, 2011, Spring Break
Day Three: "Even at Our Swiftest Speed, We Couldn't Break from the Concrete"
Yesterday afternoon as the kids were wheeling their bikes out of the garage, I noticed a white beach cruiser parked in the back of the garage that looked to be just about my size. Vinny said it was Michael's, so I dashed upstairs and interrupted his tutoring session to ask if I could ride his bike for awhile. Having obtained permission, I ran back downstairs, cleared away all the junk piled around this beautiful but hardly-used bike, and hopped on. I think Vinny and Giuwels were just as delighted as I was because they immediately began clamoring to go for a real Bike Ride--which is different than their normal experience of riding up and down the street in front of their house. So we set off on our grand avdenture Around the Block. Manhattan Beach is full of hills, which makes for some challenging biking conditions--especially when riding with a 5 year old who's still got training wheels. Of course, the downhill part is everyone's favorite. The exhiliration and delight on Giuliana's face as she raced down the slope of 27th Street was worth the more arduous trek back up 25th Street. She was reduced to walking her bike up the hill, and I joined her in her plight. The uphill work builds character and determination. The downhill rides remind us that our souls can fly.

I'm Losing My Mind!

The Hunger Games are driving me mad!!!!!!

AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Best Week of My Life Approaches:

Tomorrow, after work, I'm catching a flight up to San Francisco, and on Tuesday I'm getting my wisdom teeth removed as well as a bunch of other dental work done. I will probably be out for 6 hours. Now, before you start to feel sorry for me, please don't. I am actually looking forward to this for several reasons:

1. I get a week off of work
2. I get to take moderately powerful narcotics legally
3. I will be sleeping a lot
4. I will be reading a lot (The Hunger Games)
5. I will be taking lots of warm baths while reading People magazine
6. I will be spoiled by my in-laws
7. I could wake up from my surgery speaking another language, the way Dan did

I'm pretty much about to experience the peak experience of my life. I doubt that ever again will it be my duty to relax, recover, and do nothing for a week. So, I guess after this week, it's all downhill from here.

(Side note: I am aware that I could react poorly to the anesthesia or develop that dreaded condition called Dry Socket. However, I am choosing to focus on the positive!)

And with the utmost sincerity, I must say that I am so thankful to God for providing the opportunity and the resources for this much needed work to be done. God's provision and the fact that I live in a time and a place where this excellent care is available to me are my most important reasons to be grateful and cheerful!

Sick Day:

Let me start off by saying that I know she's not mine. And yet, in many ways she is mine, because she's been entrusted to my care and responsibility, and because I love her. Because of the time, energy, and love I've invested in her and her brothers, they'll always be mine--not the way my own children will one day be mine, of course, but I will always carry them within my heart, delight in who they are, and be actively concerned for their well-being (to the best of my ability).

Well yesterday, my sweet little charge, Giuliana, woke up sick: cough, sore throat, and fever running at about 101 degrees. This normally energetic, precocious, and talkative child had nothing to say, and felt much too poorly to go to school. She slept most of the morning while I did chores around the house, and then around 11 she woke up and said she felt better. So we colored with our newly minted homemade crayons--which we made yesterday by melting down all the broken pieces of crayons they had in cupcake tins and then letting them cool and harden in the refrigerator. She wanted to copy everything I drew, which was cute and flattering since I'm hardly talented in the area of artistic creation. When we got tired of coloring, I made lunch and she wandered away into the living room. When I went to get her for lunch, I found her laying peacefully on the carpet in a patch of sunlight falling through the skylight. She never did eat lunch, and the avocado, strawberries, and peanut butter sandwich that I'd prepared for her sat untouched at the kitchen table. Instead, she continued to lay on the carpet, long after the sunlight had traveled across the room. Eventually she fell asleep, leaving me to contemplate the wonder and beauty--the sweetness and innocence--of a little girl in pink pajamas, napping on the living room floor.

Harry Potter memories

In case you somehow missed it, Sean and I are completely obsessing over Harry Potter right now. After visiting the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, we couldn't help ourselves. I'm listening to the whole series on audio book and immersing myself in literary criticism of Harry, and Sean is rereading the series.

All this has got me thinking of some of my favorite Harry Potter related memories. Here are two of my favorites:

I read Harry Potter for the first time during the summer of 2008, which I spent in Florida. That summer Cathryn was also learning how to drive. Since I'm six years older than her, I was legally able to take her out driving. So one day, Cayla, Cathryn, and I were coming home from somewhere--with Cathryn driving--and we happened to be talking about J.K. Rowling. I was telling them how beautiful the author was, but the girls were in disbelief. They were both saying how they imagined her looking like the crazy cashier lady at our neighborhood Walgreens who is older, stout, with frizzy gray hair that always has an absurd hat (usually decorated with a big spider) perched on top of it. We were laughing so hard over this image as we pulled into our driveway that Cathryn lost track of what she was doing, and drove the van right into the house. Literally, she hit the house. I know I should've felt bad as the responsible adult who was supposed to be monitoring her, but it was one of the funniest moments of my life.

Another great Harry Potter memory is a lot simpler, but nonetheless meaningful. The day after our wedding, Sean and I were relaxing in our room at the Tiburon lodge, recovering from the craziness of the weekend. And we had one of the best evenings in the world: we rented Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire from the lobby's movie collection and ordered room service for a cheeseburger and a double serving of garlic fries. It was so simple and yet, was undoubtedly one of the best spent evenings of my life. And that's one of the reasons I love being married to Sean--I always have my best buddy around to enjoy all the little things of life with.

A Tiny Conversation

Me: Sean, do you remember when we weren't married?

Sean: Yes.

Me: Wasn't it terrible?

Greatness:

There's nothing quite like a great day. There are different things that make each day great, and today was great because:

I slept in until noon. (For those of you who think this is overwhelmingly slothful of me, let me add that I do wake up at 5:30 a.m. regularly for work.)

Sean and I went hiking up in the hills behind our neighborhood. We loved the views, the sunshine and green hills, and the little cottontail bunny who hopped across our path!

I babysat the Moothart boys this afternoon. I wished Thomas a Happy Birthday, received a spontaneous hug from Jonathan, and rescued Josiah when we all went inside and he remained outside calling, "Need help! Neeeeeed help!" (He couldn't get down from his perch.)

Chicken Parmesan for dinner. Organic, free range chicken from Whole Foods. Whole wheat pasta from Trader Joe's. Yummy AND healthy!

Now, yesterday was great for entirely different reasons. Vinny and I got to spend the afternoon together, just the two of us, since Giuliana was at a playdate and Michael was still at school. Vinny just discovered "fortune tellers" or "cootie catchers" or whatever you want to call them (the folded paper creations with four points that move back and forth...) and he was delighted beyond belief that I was able to make them. So, while he did his homework, I made fortune tellers for all the kids at his table in school (SIX). Vinny said, "I really like you now." I said, "EXCUSE ME?!?!?! You JUST NOW started liking me?" (I've worked there for 7 months.) "Well, I already liked you," he explains, "but I like you even more now!" Oh, the honesty.

Vinny also gave a brilliant and adorable explanation of where babies come from last night. Somehow it came out that I want to have at least 5 children.

Vinny: 5 kids??? But the more kids you have the more work you have!
Me: I don't think of it that way, I think the more kids you have the more fun you have!
Giuwels: I want three kids. 2 girls and a boy.
Vinny: I want three kids too. 2 boys and a girl.
Giuwels: Carolyn, do you have any kids?
Me: Not yet, Giuwelsy, I just want to have them some day.
Giuwels: Well, are you married yet?
Me: Yeah, I'm married, I just don't have any kids yet.
Giuwels: Well, if you're married, why don't you have some babies?
Vinny: (with authority) Giuliana, you don't get married and then a baby pops out. It takes a lot of time for love to fill you up, and then a baby comes out.

I think about my job a lot, always trying to figure out exactly what it is that makes me love my work so much. Here's one reason: I love my job because it doesn't feel like a job at all, it just feels like being part of a family. All the other jobs I've ever had felt abnormal--I would step out of my regular life and go do some task that I would otherwise never be doing--and then I would get off and re-enter the real world. In between punching in and punching out, I would count the hours--watching the clock and waiting for this interruption to end so that I could get back to what I really wanted to be doing.

When you're doing what you love--what you would want to be doing whether anyone paid you or not--well then, you don't have to watch the clock. Confucius said to choose a job that you love, and then you will never have to work a day in your life. There's this amazing feeling when you find a job that pays you to actually do what you want to be doing. So, I'm doing what I love--therefore, my job doesn't feel like a job at all. But there's another reason my job doesn't feel like a job: my job is, essentially, to be an active, supportive, and loving member of a family. This doesn't feel like a job to me--just a normal part of life. I spent the first eighteen and a half years of my life being part of a vibrant, struggling, chaotic, and loving family unit. This comes naturally.

When I moved away to college, I was still part of my family, but in a more removed way. I was a member, but from a distance. And the minute I moved, I started missing my family, and realizing just how much I had taken for granted. There's an inevitable loneliness that comes when you learn to live alone, or with a couple roommates....after you've lived in a house with six people whose actions, thoughts, emotions, and histories were shared in such close quarters. I love Sean, and we are incredibly happy together--we are completely happy in each others company, but to me--so often--our house feels empty. I especially feel this after I come home from a long day at work--where I slip right into the family dynamic and thrive in that environment. Sean and I have a family dynamic--it is just the family dynamic of two--which is far different from the family dynamic of 5 or 6 people, that I am used to. It's good for it to be just me and Sean right now. But I also can't WAIT until the day when our home is overflowing with children, and buzzing with life and activity. I also continue to love my job and enjoy all the moments I get to spend with these three kids--who have become family to me, and I to them simply by the sheer amount of time we spend together and the affection we share.

I love mornings when I take Vinny outside to wait for his mom to get back from driving carpool for her oldest child, so she can pick Vinny up and take him to school. Giuwels always tags along in her pajamas and we open the garage door and find the street half in shadow, half bursting with early morning sunlight. Vinny digs out a basketball from somewhere in the garage and starts shooting hoops, and Giuwels put her little hand in mine and says, "Come on, Carolyn, let's go sit in the sun." And we walk over to the large rocks that line their neighbor's yard, and she plays on the rocks and I sit on one, enjoying the warmth of the sunlight contrasting with the chill morning air. And everything is bright, and new, and the children are beautiful and precious, and this--to me--is happiness.

A Year In Books

My 2010 Reading List:

January 2010

The World Is Flat – Thomas Friedman

*Baby Catcher – Peggy Vincent

People of the Book – Geraldine Brooks

The Year of Magical Thinking – Joan Didion

The Republic of East L.A. – Luis Rodriguez

**Walk Two Moons – Sharon Creech (Audio Book, with Sean)

February 2010

****My Story As Told By Water – David James Duncan

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone – J. K. Rowling (Audio Book)

A Wrinkle in Time – Madeleine L’Engle

*The Noonday Demon – Andrew Solomon

Spiritual Midwifery – Ina May Gaskin (First half of book: Birth Stories, 218 pages)

A Circle of Quiet – Madeleine L’Engle; 246 pages

A Wind in the Door – Madeleine L’Engle; 240 pages

March 2010

The Summer of the Great Grandmother – Madeleine L’Engle; 246 pages

Giving Birth – Catherine Taylor; 300 pages

A Swiftly Tilting Planet – Madeleine L’Engle; 256 pages

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows – J. K. Rowling (Audio Book)

The Midwife – Jennifer Worth; 319 pages

Lady’s Hands, Lion’s Heart – Carol Leonard; 354 pages

Many Waters – Madeleine L’Engle; 310 pages

A Perfect Mess – Eric Abrahamson & David Freedman (Audio Book)

The Irrational Season – Madeleine L’Engle; 215 pages

April 2010

Committed – Elizabeth Gilbert; 285 pages

Things I’ve Been Silent About – Azar Nafisi; 314 pages

Till We Have Faces – C.S. Lewis; 309 pages

Castle Corona – Sharon Creech; Audio Book

Two Part Invention – Madeleine L’Engle; 232 pages

Beautiful Stories of Life – Cynthia Rylant; Audio Book

The Metamorphoses: Books 1 & 2 – Ovid; 50 pages

Shards of Honor – Lois McMaster Bujold; 313 pages

***The Whale Rider – Witi Ihimaera; Audio Book

Barrayar – Lois McMaster Bujold; 386 pages

An Acceptable Time – Madeleine L’Engle; 367 pages

May 2010

The Fabric of This World – Lee Hardy; 185 pages

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets – J.K. Rowling; Audio Book

The Warrior’s Apprentice – Lois McMaster Bujold; 315 pages

Acedia & me – Kathleen Norris; 329 pages

Anne of Green Gables – Lucy Maud Montgomery; Audio Book

June 2010

I GOT MARRIED!!!!!

July 2010

Fellowship of the Ring – J. R. R. Tolkien; Audio Book

Tinkers – Paul Harding

The Outsiders – S. E. Hinton

*The Count of Monte Cristo – Alexander Dumas; Audio Book

The Cloister Walk – Kathleen Norris

August 2010

Anne of Avonlea – Lucy Maud Montgomery; Audio Book

*****The Brothers K – David James Duncan; 645 pages

Anne of the Island – Lucy Maud Montgomery; Audio Book

The Two Towers – J. R. R. Tolkien; Audio Book

Dakota – Kathleen Norris; 220 pages

The Maytrees – Annie Dillard; 216 pages

Travels with Charley – John Steinbeck; Audio Book

*A Mother’s Rule – Holly Pierlot; 200 pages

September 2010

Housekeeping – Marilynne Robinson; Audio Book

The Quotidian Mysteries – Kathleen Norris; 88 pages

Life of Antony & Letter to Marcinellus – Athanasius; 129 pages

The Rule of St. Benedict – St. Benedict; 70 pages

A Thousand Acres – Jane Smiley; Audio Book; 13 discs

Around the World in 80 Days – Jules Verne; Audio Book; 7 discs

October 2010

Church History in Plain Language – Bruce L. Shelley; 495 pages

Funny in Farsi – Firoozeh Dumas; 198 pages

The Nanny Diaries – Emma McLaughlin & Nicola Kraus; 306 pages

Invisible Cities – Italo Calvino; 165 pages

Unmasking L.A. – edited by Deepak Narang Sawhney; 260 pages

You’ll Never Nanny in this Town Again – Suzanne Hansen; 286 pages

And Nanny Makes Three – Jessika Auerbach; 272 pages

Nicholas Nickleby – Charles Dickens; 25 discs

November 2010

The Perfect Stranger – Lucy Kaylin; 228 pages

Flipped – Wendelin Van Draanen; 6 discs

*Searching for Mary Poppins – edited by Susan Davis and Gina Hyams; 275 pages

Just Like Family – Tasha Blaine; 319 pages

Global Woman – Edited by: Babara Ehrenreich and Arlie Hochschild; 284 pages

December 2010

White House Nannies – Barbara Kline; 234 pages

The Year of Living Biblically – A. J. Jacobs; 332 pages

Where I Was From – Joan Didion; 226 pages

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince – J. K. Rowling; 17 discs

*******Crunchy Cons – Rod Dreher; 250 pages

Total: 74 Books

It's been a wonderful year for reading books! I started out the year devouring midwifery literature and ended the year pouring over nanny-literature. In between, and all throughout, I revisited books that are old friends ( the Anne of Green Gables series), read my favorites over and over again (Harry Potter), made wonderful memories (I'll never forget sitting in the sands of Waimea Bay at sunset and watching Sean body surf in the cresting waves while I read Joan Didion's The Year of Magical Thinking or driving through the green mountains of Oregon on our honeymoon listening to Fellowship of the Ring), and discovered delightful new authors like Kathleen Norris (thought-provoking), A.J. Jacobs (hilarious), and Rod Dreher (life-changing). I finally read an extensive portion of Madeleine L'Engle's work (but by no means all of it) and explored topics such as depression and Church History more thoroughly than I ever have before. And there was no lacking in adventure: I journeyed through outer space with Miles Vorkosigan and swam with whales in the wild waters off the shores of New Zealand. I battled Voldemorte alongside Harry, Ron, and Hermione, exacted a breathtaking revenge with Edmond Dantes, and traveled around the world (in 80 days!) with Phileas Fogg. I delivered babies with Berkeley's best midwife, trekked to Mount Doom with Frodo and Sam, and roamed the streets of East L.A. with Luis Rodriguez. The worst book I read this year was A Thousand Acres by Jane Smiley. Do yourself a favor and never read it. Do yourself a favor and read Crunchy Conservatives by Rod Dreher, which wins for being by far the most life-changing book I read this year. I familiarized myself with some classics--including The Count of Monte Cristo and Nicholas Nickleby (both of which are brilliant and amazing books!). The best book I read this year was--hands down--The Brothers K by David James Duncan. This was my second time reading it, and I loved it even more--if possible--than the first time I read it. This is probably the most rich and heart-warming/breaking, loving and funny story of a family that anyone will ever read. I also reread Annie Dillard's The Maytrees, which--after visiting Megan in Massachusetts this Spring, took on new meaning and beauty for me. To read books is to associate with the Great: St. Benedict, John Steinbeck, and C.S. Lewis--to name a few. The adventure of reading books is second only to the greater adventure of living life, and I hope--by God's grace--to do much more of both in 2011.