Mary Tobin’s hair!
A rooster which can’t be tamed.
No bow is required.
or
Only Elvis knows
Force-of-nature hair like this.
Him, and Rufio.
(Feel free to leave a comment and dazzle me with your own version!)
Mom's impressive front porch arrangement
- Like I do, Mary Tobin enjoys old family stories and Frank Sinatra Christmas carols. Also, Mama Rote is the baby whisperer. (I’m in love with my mom, and my whole family, right now. It’s been a dream being home with a six-week old— multiple baby watchers at the ready!)
- Jesus is trending.
- My youngest brother wants to live in the woods after graduation. Reminds me of Homer in Walk Across America. This guy is his inspiration. I’m reading Elizabeth Gilbert’s The Last American Man to check him out.
- From Uncle Steve (on writing, but also life):
One of the few things I know about writing is this: spend it all, play it, lose it all, right away, every time. Do not hoard what seems good for a later place in the book, or for another book; give it all, give it now. -Annie Dillard
Happy New Year!
Santa baby:
First Coming, by Madeleine L’Engle
He did not wait till the world was ready,
till men and nations were at peace.
He came when the Heavens were unsteady,
and prisoners cried out for release.
He did not wait for the perfect time.
He came when the need was deep and great.
He dined with sinners in all their grime,
turned water into wine.
He did not wait till hearts were pure.
In joy he came to a tarnished world of sin and doubt.
To a world like ours, of anguished shame
he came, and his Light would not go out.
He came to a world which did not mesh,
to heal its tangles, shield its scorn.
In the mystery of the Word made Flesh
the Maker of the stars was born.
We cannot wait till the world is sane
to raise our songs with joyful voice,
for to share our grief, to touch our pain,
He came with Love: Rejoice! Rejoice!
from A Cry Like a Bell (via Growing in Grace, via Long to Love)
The huge, life-changing milestone of giving birth also puts in perspective what your truly favorite movies are.
During the early stages of labor you’re supposed to bide your time, relax, take a walk, eat, continue your day as usual. You don’t know how long it will last, so you want to conserve energy and not get too charged up or excited—adrenaline slows labor down.
So in all our preparations, Izzy and I discussed what movie we might want to have on to pass the time at home before things got real. Knowing that it would depend on my mood at the time, we had four options:
- The Hangover. A little humor—very little, my mom might say—to distract me.
- Adventures in Babysitting. Eighties. Elisabeth Shue. Great soundtrack. “Don’t f*** with the babysitter.”
- The Sound of Music. Classic.
- St. Elmo’s Fire. Even more eighties. Georgetown. Definitive brat pack. Reminds me of our early months dating. “I’m obsessed, thank you very much.”
And . . . the winner was:
Adventures in Babysitting. It just felt right. Until my water broke, which felt like a balloon exploding in my stomach, or Mary Tobin roundhouse kicking a hole through my uterus, or being shot from within my own body. Pain wise, it wasn’t the worst, but was truly one of the most startling and disturbing moments of my life. Why didn’t anyone tell me it might be like that?
Perhaps I’ll tell you more (non-gorey) details of our birth story soon. If you’re into that kind of thing. But, if you were in that situation, what movie would you choose?
P.S. More kids’ books recommendations from Dinner: A Love Story.
P.P.S. “Nobody leaves this place without singing the blues.”
Mary Tobin arrived three weeks ago today (on our anniversary!). What a gift!
It’s been three weeks of cuddling, crying (hers and mine), sleeping and being awake at odd times, tiny clothes, family and friends keeping us sane. Walking to the coffee shop or Mancini’s for brunch, or taking a bath, has become our exciting adventure for the day. There’s a stack of parenting books, blowing my mind.
Mary Tobin’s an angel. She makes the best faces; her sneezes are miraculous.
Aside from staring at our daughter, I’ve been watching Gilmore Girls (thanks to Mandy who loaned me the complete set!), and watching Israel settle in to being a papa.
[Bonus: 50 Rules for Dads of Daughters, hat tip Eliza Joy. My favorite: "Somewhere between the time she turns three and her sixth birthday, the odds are good that she will ask you to marry her. Let her down gently."]
Despite the minor upheaval in our lives, Israel insists on Christmas as usual (a war time slogan from An Avonlea Christmas: Support our Boys; Christmas as Usual).
So let me know your Christmas movie recommendations for our queue. We’ve been getting desperate and watched an ABC Family original last night from the DVR. I won’t tell you the title because it’s too embarrassing.
Lots of love from all three Ortegas!
I will be honest; I thought I was having a boy. Fortunately, mi suegra has better intuition and had already been knitting for a girl! I’m not sure why I thought boy, but I grew up with three brothers so I guess visions of little dude outfits and rooms with antlers and old maps came more readily to my mind. So it was not at all disappointing to learn that our cub is a cub-ette, but I had to make a mental adjustment.
Two things got me especially excited for a girl: monogrammed bloomers, and the day I had the [mind-blowing] thought that I will eventually get to introduce my daughter to Anne of Green Gables. I’m being serious; it really blows my mind to think about her entering this most loved of books, and all the other worlds that reading offers.
So Anne is a few years away, but I need your input! What are your best, most favorite, treasured children’s books? Parents, I’d love your help. But even if you’re anti-children or something, you should be interested in this type of thing, because your early reading shaped your life!
“Because when you read a book as a child, it becomes a part of your identity in a way that no other reading in your whole life does . . . and I . . . I’ve gotten carried away, haven’t I?”
Earlier this year some of the girls had a mini-shower for my friend Meggie and me to get our nursery libraries started. (Ahem, I mean, the shelf in the spot in our room where we will keep baby stuff and be cozy. No nursery in this a.p.t. We’ll be happy and snug!)
I loved that Jordan went non-PC with Princess Bess for baby girl Ortega and Thomas the Tank for Meggie’s boy.
What a great idea for a shower! Mama Rote’s standard baby gift was usually a book and the corresponding stuffed animal. She’s just a genius in so many ways.
For older kids, one of my new favorite blogs, Dinner A Love Story—which is usually about food as the name implies—had some fascinating interviews this summer with really awesome authors on what kids’ books they recommend. (Even if you don’t care to learn about kids’ books, I found these posts really entertaining to read and to hear these guys’ voices outside of their normal authorial realm.)
The Reading List: George Saunders
During my Capitol Hill days, one of my former interns, maybe a junior in college, sent me a sweet Facebook message when she saw that Israel and I had gotten engaged. The gist was: Congratulations; So exciting; Could you send me more details of the proposal and everything? Sorry if that’s weird; “I’m just really interested in that sort of thing.”
She is charming and hilarious, so it was not creepy, and I still love the line “I’m just really interested in that sort of thing.”
I bring it up to say– sorry if you’re not interested in this sort of thing. It’s highly likely that posts are going to be about baby/pregnancy stuff for awhile. It’s boring, but it’s part of my life.
Or, Why Are Asians So Funny?
My friend Mijin‘s friend has a theory that Asians are actually a highly evolved species greater than humans, but lesser than aliens.
Here it is: the greatest engagement photo album ever.
My husband wants to tell you in his own words about our adventures up north. Take it away, Israel!
As most loyal readers know, Josie is a Southerner from Memphis, Tennessee and I am a Northerner from the most Yankee place in the union—New York City. A curiosity that led to some witty back and forth banter the night we met in Nick’s Nightclub, line dancing capital of Alexandria, VA. Of course, Josie couldn’t resist calling me out for “trying too hard” by wearing a plaid shirt and jeans to go line dancing. Perhaps she was right, which is why I’d been looking forward to taking Josie to Cape Cod (or The Cape to the locals)—more comfortable surroundings for me and a chance to play tour guide at a place Josie had never been to before.
In addition to the rude demeanor (of some) New Englanders, Josie found the Massachusetts accent: “grating.” Her words, not mine.
But before Josie’s large and loyal New England readers write her off completely, I must tell you that The Cape was the setting to one very memorable Ortega family vacation that won’t soon be forgotten. Besides taking part in the usual Cape Cod activities that all vacationers are expected to cross off on the list, like hitting the beach, eating ice cream, taking a trip out to Nantucket, we also made time for two summits! The Budget Summit and the Baby Name Summit.
Why a summit? Because we have clearly been in Washington, D.C. for too long, where we have been led to believe that a summit can bring together seemingly intractable and irreconcilable differences to hash out an agreement. Think last summer’s “Beer Summit.”
It really is too bad that C-SPAN was too busy covering the debt ceiling negotiations on Capitol Hill, because this certainly would have made for some good day time television. Like the drama unfolding in D.C., the Budget Summit turned into an argument over spending. What’s particularly ironic is that I found myself calling for more spending, seeing that I work for The Heritage Foundation (a small non-profit that also happens to be conservative think tank). In a sheer sign of desperation, I was resorting to name-calling, labeling Josie a “tea party Republican.”
It got ugly, yes. But in the end, we made a tremendous amount of progress and if the Wall Street Journal had been there providing coverage, their post-summit headline would have probably read: “With Baby Ortega on the way, Ortegas Agree to Major Cuts in Favor of More Savings.”
While far more amicable in comparison to the Budget Summit, the Name Summit was nonetheless a very passionate affair. There was a lot of back and forth on why we had come up with our list of top name choices for our lovely daughter, including my insistence on going with a really preppy name like “Bootsie”—only to be reminded that it probably wouldn’t go well with our very Spanish last name.
Unfortunately, the outcome of the Baby Name Summit did not end like the Budget Summit. We hate to leave you in suspense but we don’t have a name to announce to the world quite yet. Stay tuned!
But in all seriousness, going to Cape Cod and getting a chance to spend an entire week with Josie was a great reminder of how truly blessed I am to have a sweet, thoughtful, intelligent, responsible and beautiful wife. God has a way of prodding you to reevaluate what you are doing in all aspects of your life from time to time, and as we embark on this new chapter together as parents, it is obvious to anyone who knows Josie that she will make a wonderful mother.
Awww shucks. He’s a good egg.
