Infinite Pages

I've decided to participate in Infinite Summer, a project in which people are committing to tackling David Foster Wallace's Infinite Jest as their summer reading project. And hoo boy, it is hefty. The book clocks in at 1,079 pages, so it's no light summer beach read. I figure if I can conquer Remembrance of Things Past, I can do anything right?

(Remembrance of Things Past is over 3,000 pages long. And yes, it takes 3 books to house the entire novel. I did NOT read it voluntarily. It was the book for my Senior Lit Seminar during my undergrad studies. And I read every last page of that puppy. It was like a badge of honor. Except that I have managed to LOSE the books. Can you believe that? I guess that's what I get for moving every year for six years, but still. Marcel Proust haunts me, the least I could do is have his mammoth book(s) in my house.)

As for Infinite Summer, there aren't really rules. There are page guidelines every week so that the guides and forum posters can write about the novel so far. On Monday, we are supposed to be at page 94. I am currently on page 14. I'm hoping I can squeeze 80 pages in tomorrow while Alex and Jack* are off playing golf/hanging out with Grandma. I'm excited to take on a fun reading project that doesn't revolve around grad school. And I'm also excited to finally read something by DFW. I have some serious English grad guilt over not having read a single thing by him yet. So hopefully it goes well! I may or may not post my thoughts on the book here. We'll see how the project pans out, shall we? But so far, the first 14 pages have been captivating and I'm eager to delve into DFW's style, crazy footnotes and all.


*Jack is our baby's blog name. It just doesn't seem fair to use his real name when Alex and I don't use ours on our blogs. It's fitting since Jack was one of my top names on our list, but had to be thrown out because I didn't want people to think I named my son after Keifer Sutherland.

Bleep Bloop

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Ok, FINE, you twisted my arm

Jodi asked for pictures and who am I to deny her pictures of my child? Plus, this is WAY easier than thinking of CONTENT to WRITE like this is a BLOG or something. I really, really, really want to start blogging more, but I can never ever think of anything good or fun or happy or interesting to say. So! Pictures it is! (In my defense for today, SOMEONE in this house has decided that he doesn't like any of his pacifiers anymore. And that VERY SAME SOMEONE was super mega cranky this morning, probably because he kept REJECTING ALL THE PACIFIERS.)

ANYWAY, below are pictures of he who occasionally HATES PACIFIERS, OMG WHY'D YOU EVEN TRY TO PUT THAT IN MY MOUTH WOMAN!?

I love this one, even though it is blurry and grainy. But he is in full on smile/giggle/laugh mode here.


There's my handsome little man!


Another one from Father's Day. Taken with our magic lens.


Hooray for semi-productive use of naptime!

Father's Day

When Alex and I found out I was pregnant, he was ecstatic. ECSTATIC. I literally laid on the floor in shock and he fawned over me like an excited puppy. I remember thinking, "I don't understand why he is so excited. This is NOT what we wanted." All throughout my hellish pregnancy, Alex was my cheerleader. He was just so thrilled to become a father. He continually reminded me of how amazing he thought it was that this child would be the best part of us. That he would be an extension of our awesomeness. I thought he was crazy. But so incredibly relieved that I had married a man who was that pumped to have a baby with me.

Alex has been an amazing father these past 11 weeks. He changes diapers. He makes bottles. He gets up in the middle of the night. He gives baths. He is the fun parent who makes the baby fly and jump around. He sings Garth Brooks. He kisses and comforts and gives, gives, gives. In short, he's incredible. And in the midst of all that, he has never stopped being my cheerleader. He thinks I'm an amazing mom and he tells me this continually. He comforts me when the fear and the anxiety are too much. He picks up the slack when I need a break. I have no idea what I would do without him. What WE would do without him. He is the best father I could ever imagine and I am so grateful for him.



Happy Father's Day, baby.

So, uh, YEAH

I don't know what to say. So I just stopped posting. I went on an a little internet break of sorts. I mean, I was still on the internet for an enormously large amount of time reading blogs and Facebook and Twitter and so on and so forth. But I stopped writing on the internet. No commenting. No updating. No tweeting. Just...nothing. Because, well, what do I say? What do I talk about now?

I go back and forth on how open I want to be with y'all. How much of my life do I really want to be posted out there on the interwebs? Do I want everyone to know what is going on with me? A lot of times, the answer is "no." I'd rather play with my cards close to my chest. But sometimes I want to put it all out there because honesty is so refreshing. But honesty requires a risk and being open and vulnerable. And...eh. I'd rather not. It's easier to not post. To stay quiet. To let the internet world keep on going without me. But then I think, wait! Wait for me! I want back on the ride.

But I haven't done that yet. I haven't jumped back on the internet train. Instead, I sit and wait and write posts in my head and read blogs and stay silent.