I once had a woman tell me that only journalists notice bylines. She may have been right. But, no matter how many times I’ve seen mine, I still get a kick out of it. The first time I saw my byline in something other than my college or high school paper was when I was interning for a weekly newspaper in Salt Lake. I walked into a bagel shop to grab a sandwich and saw a stack of the issue my story was slated to run in. After weeks of managing the calendar that ran in each issue, I’d finally been trusted with a real story. I grabbed a paper, flipped through the pages and saw my name. I wanted to point it out to everyone in line with me, but I didn’t. Instead I grabbed a stack on my way and hand delivered them to all of my relatives within a 120-mile radius.

I don’t get that excited anymore, but now it almost means more. It reminds me that I am earning my living as a writer—something that had been my plan since I was a teenager. It also reminds me that the leap of faith I took when I decided to hang my own shingle has paid off. I’ve been a full-time freelancer for two years this month and I’ve worked harder for myself than I ever did for anyone else. Of course I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Having my byline arrive in my mailbox also reminds me that, with the particular publication that arrived this week and is pictured above, it also arrived in the mailboxes of just over 25,000 other people. I like knowing something I researched and wrote has been sent out into the world. I just always hope that people like what they read.

The best part of my job is when people read an article takes the time to visit my website and leave a comment saying they liked what they saw. I can’t tell you how big of a smile that puts on my face. 

So for all of you non-byline-reading folks, give them a gander once in a while. And, if you like what you read, let someone know! I bet it will make his or her day. 

I received Someday by Alison McGhee and Peter Reynolds as a gift when Miss Madelyn was born and it has become my favorite children’s book of all time. It is the sweetest book about a mother and a daughter, and I’m not ashamed to admit that it made me a bit weepy the first 20 times I read it. Okay–and about 30 times after that. I’ve been reading it to my baby girl, but it also makes me think of my mom and my grandmother. Publisher’s Weekly called the book an "understated yet emotion-charged expression of a mother’s love and hopes for her child." Oh how I love it! Now, I need to head over to the book store and read every other children’s book by Alison McGhee. I also need to pick up extra copies of Someday as it is my new go-to gift for any friend who is having a baby girl.

The Pancake

1/2 cup flour
2 eggs
1/2 cup milk
1 Tablespoon melted butter

Mix ingredients until smooth. Pour into a greased 8-inch square pan and bake at 450 degrees for 20-25 minutes until lightly browned.

The Apples

Two cups chopped tart apples
1/2 cup apple juice
1/8 cup sugar
1 tea. cinnamon

Combine in sauce pan and simmer for 15-20 minutes until tender and syrupy. 

Cut the pancake in fourths and serve with the apples. 

What is your favorite way to use a bounty of apples? 

To add to the difficulty…I mean fun, we decided to take the kiddos to see a few of the sites while we were there. We started in Times Square and craned our necks upwards as we pointed out all the skyscrapers to my little guy. He kept asking, “Are these real skyscrapers?” We assured him that were. 

 I just love the little boy posing next to me in the picture.  

On Day Two we headed off to visit Dr. Waner. Baby girl was a candidate for laser surgery, so the office arranged for us to get in the next day. Hemangiomas grow fast, so time is of the essence.  We snapped a quick pic of Dr. Waner with Madelyn. (The picture of my guy with Dr. Waner on the day of his surgery is up on the Vascular Birthmark Institute’s website).  

 Miss Madelyn did great and both kids were so worn out from our days-o-fun that they slept the whole way home. Whew! 

We’re about a week out of surgery and my hubby and I both think it looks like the hemangioma is still growing. Boo. We will watch it for two more weeks, then consult with Dr. Waner about the need for another surgery. Hopefully it will start fading this week. Send good thoughts our way! 

-Reading bedtime stories with my little guy–who insisted on wearing his cowboy hat with his Mr. Incredible pajamas. 

-Grilling outside. 

-Watching my hubby’s grandma love on my baby girl. 

-Having my little guy tell me he wants to marry his baby sister when he grows up. 

-Buying groceries and having the checker tell me I was buying a lot of healthy food. I didn’t tell him we already had plenty of Oreos, cake and corn chips at home. 

-Getting home from the grocery store, putting the veggies and fruit in the fridge and then eating two cherry turnovers. 

-What were your simple joys this weekend? 

Wow! Almost two weeks have gone by since Miss Madelyn Elise was born. All of the feeding, burping, changing, rocking, and oohing and aahing have kept us busy. Throw in a day my hubby spent in the ER with kidney stones and a baby girl who often thinks she needs to eat every hour and I’ve been hard pressed even to find time to snap pictures. Here are a few of the favorites I have captured:

One last picture of my guy, me and the baby bump. We took this as we were dropping him off at a friend’s house so baby girl could be born.

In hindsight, we probably should have moved a little quicker to get to the hospital. I’d heard stories about there not being time for the epidural to work, but I didn’t think it would happen to me. Luckily, it takes less than five seconds to forget how much work labor is.

My little guy couldn’t wait to meet his sister. Next up, he wants to carry her. By himself. Like a grown up. This is one of many things that is keeping me up at night.  

For now we’re able to keep him happy with just holding her. 

 

And entertaining her. 

All in all, things are going well here–even if a bit hectic. I have so many thank you cards to write, e-mails to send and phone calls to return! Thank you to everyone for all your nice wishes. I love hearing from you and I will be in touch soon, I promise! Now, I think Madelyn wants to eat again. 

There were sweet treats—donuts for breakfast and ice cream before bed,

fun rides at Sesame Place,

and hands-on learning opportunities at the Please Touch Museum.  

There was also plenty of snuggle time for mom, cheesesteaks for dad and jumping on the bed for my guy. My guy also got his fix of roller coasters and got to stay on his favorite ride at Sesame Place five times in a row since there was no line. His daddy was a good sport, but looked a little green when they finally got off the roller coaster.

There were a few moments-o-reality thrown in along the way. I underestimated the direct correlation between my energy level and my patience—not just with my little guy but also with other people’s children. There was also the fact that my little guy decided he no longer liked pizza, chicken nuggets or French fries—foods he really shouldn’t have but are all too convenient and often the only things readily available on a road trip. 

On our drive home, I was thinking about the trip—the good, not-so-good and ordinary moments that made up the 33-hour getaway. Giving my little guy 50 cents to buy a finger puppet when we stopped for gas, sharing a funnel cake with my hubby and watching my guy jump on the bed for an hour straight were the highlights. I took a lot of pictures, shared a lot of smiles and made memories that most likely will shine brighter for me than they ever will for my little guy. The best part of the trip was that I was able just to be there will my boys—without my computer, without my to-do list and without worrying about all I needed to accomplish in the day. 

In her book Loud and Clear, Anna Quindlen talks about being present. She said: “The biggest mistake I made [as a parent] is the one that most of us make. … I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of [my three children] sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages six, four, and one. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less.” 

I’m also guilty of not being in the moment often enough, but I am happy to say during the past weekend, I was able to just enjoy our time together as a family.