It's Christian's Birthday!

Christian turns NINE today! Nine!

It kills me that I can't be with him to celebrate, but I know that he's having a great time with Daddy and Bergen and Grandma Wanda. I got to celebrate with my big boy last weekend when Jay and I took the boys to the amusement park at the Mall of America for a nine-hour extravaganza. Christian even convinced me to go down the flume-like log ride. (Please Mom? For me? For my birthday?) I have the screaming-faced pictures to prove it.

It's cliche to say, but it's hard to believe it's been nine years since Christian and I endured his 30-plus hour labor and delivery. What a trooper he was. (Side note: I know they say that you forget the pain of delivering a child. But they're all lying. And let's not even get into Bergen's, I-know-he's-sticking-halfway-out-of-you-but-wait-until-the-next-contraction-to-push-again birth.) I remember when they laid his slimy, vernix-and-blood covered body on my stomach, how I reached out my arm and patted his side, "Oh baby!" And how I wished they'd clean him up a bit before I held him closer. Who could've guessed what the next nine years would bring? How lucky I am to be his mom? What a wonderful person he would become?

Love that little boy. xoxo, Jen

Vermont

I'm in Vermont! Hours (and hours and hours) of orientation today, classes start tomorrow. The best news so far: I have wireless access in my room! (But don't tell any of my clients that... we're going to continue on the premise that I don't have the Internet -- and therefore can't turn in any work -- while I'm here!)

I'll miss the Rochesterfest parade tonight! xo, Jen

10 (or so) Questions w/ Jen

I keep forgetting to post this...

I was interviewed for the "10 (or so) Questions" feature in Rochester Magazine's June issue. The interviewer is Steve Lange, a friend of ours. Funny guy. Here's a link to the article:


OK. I can't get the link to work ($%^@#&*!&*#$). So I'm afraid you're going to have to go to www.rochestermagazine.com and click on the link there.

:), Jen

P.S. Remedied!! I was able to get a link posted in the comments section. So click there if you're interested in reading the interview... :)

It's "New Secret" Sunday!

Little known fact: One of the first things I do on Sunday mornings is visit www.postsecret.com to see the new secrets.

They're sometimes thought-provoking, sometimes reassuring, often funny and, to my tastes, wildly entertaining.

:), Jen

Jen's Column / Washington D.C.

Hey all! Just took a great trip to Washington D.C. with my mom. Here's the column I wrote about it...


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My mom and I took a trip to Washington D.C. last week. I was excited to visit our national capitol for the first time — but even more excited to spend a few uninterrupted days with my mom.

We travel well together — basically because she, like me, is OK flying by the seat of her pants a bit. When it comes to travel, I like to just see where the day takes me. Oddly enough, the days never took us to some of the sites you'd expect to see in D.C.

For instance, we didn't explore the White House. Didn't even make it as far as the front lawn. As it turns out, you need to arrange White House tours months in advance so official-looking people can run background checks. We also didn't tour the capitol building — though we did stand out front and effusively proclaim how big it was. And we didn't go to the top of the Washington Monument. You have to get up early and wait in line for those tickets and, well, we preferred to sleep in. (We were on vacation, people.)

We did visit the Lincoln Memorial — a behemoth of a building that shocked me with its size. (The penny doesn’t do it justice.)

And we spent time at the Korean War Veterans Memorial and the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. As someone who likes the tangible — who needs to touch and smell things to make sure they're real — these memorials were an impactful testament to the soldiers who fought and died in these wars.

We visited the Library of Congress, where we wandered several floors in confusion before returning to the information table and asking, "Umm… where are the books?" (Turns out the Library of Congress does indeed have rooms full of books. But you can't go in them.)

At Arlington National Cemetery, we watched the changing of the guards at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier — and were struck by the pomp and ceremony displayed in this age of informality. Stunning.

We saw our founding father's flourished signatures on the Constitution at the National Archives. And at the National Gallery of Art, I became dizzy with reverence standing in a room full of Monets.

When we sought out the Smithsonian Institution, we quickly learned there isn't just one Smithsonian museum — but 17. We hit the Institution's Air & Space Museum (where we saw really cool stuff, like lunar landing modules and Lindberg's Spirit of St. Louis), and the Natural Museum of History where I saw my first 3D IMAX. (I warned my mom that it was going to be scary, but she didn't believe me until that comet came hurtling at our heads....)

After all that, I have to say that what energizes me more than anything about traveling is the people. From the high school teachers from Queens who raved to us about their students at the National Archives to the guy working the subway who came out of his booth when we needed help buying our Metro cards, we met kind, enthusiastic people at every turn.

There was the woman at the Lincoln Memorial who took our picture with my mom's camera and kept asking us to adjust our pose so she'd get it right. The waiter who found us a bus schedule even after we said we'd get one ourselves. The Tourmobile guide who had an exuberant love for his city and a photographic memory. ("Hello ladies! Nice to see you back today!")

When you travel to large cities, people are quick to warn you about the crime or the brusque people you'll meet — but we didn't experience anything like that. I found our nation's capitol to be friendly and accessible. More than any monument or memorial, this is what impressed me most. I'll be happy to return.

Jen's Column / End o' School Year

Catching up! This column ran at the end of May... :)

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Just six days until summer vacation. I've had the countdown in my head for at least a month — far longer than either of my children.

My boys have no idea that I'm more excited for summer break than they are. I mean, I haven't exactly been dancing around my house screaming, "Only one week of school left…"

Actually, OK, I have. But only after they say it first.

It's not that I dislike school. Quite the opposite, actually. My kids attend such a great elementary school that I can't even think of an appropriate superlative to describe it. Mrs. Van Vooren, Bergen's kindergarten teacher, has to be one of the most positive people I've ever met. Christian's teacher, Mrs. Ace, managed to get a class of 8-year-olds to memorize the names of all the U.S. presidents in order. I've been listening to him recite those names all year and I still can't do it.

No, the reason I'm practically holding my breath until June 5 is because the routine is killing me. I'm tired of mornings.

Here's a typical school morning at my house: I wake up, look at the clock and decide that we can definitely get it together to make it to the bus. I wake the kids. I ask them to get dressed. I explain why I don't have time to make tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for breakfast. I remind my kindergartner to get dressed. I make one child frozen waffles and another toast and cereal. I pour milk. I dig in the fridge for syrup. I realize we have no syrup. I call my mom to ask how she makes homemade syrup on the stovetop. I remind my kindergartner to get dressed. I realize we don't have time to make it to the bus after all. I ask the boys to brush their teeth — one at a time so they won't fight over who stands in front of the sink. I demand that my kindergartner get dressed. I go through the checklist: Do you have your snack? Homework? Sweatshirt? Permission slip? Library book? I tell my kindergartner that if he doesn't get dressed right now he is going to school in his pajamas. I realize I'm still in my pajamas. I get dressed. We get in the van. I run back to the house to find my keys. I call my husband. I say, "Have you seen my keys?" in such a way that insinuates that he's the one who lost them. I find my keys in my purse. We drive to school. I weep.

OK, I don't actually weep. I just kind of sigh. But really loudly.

And that, my friends, is why I love summer vacation. Here's a typical summer morning at our house: We get up. We have a leisurely breakfast — maybe on the deck. We walk around the backyard barefoot. We play.

Oh, how I love just seeing where the day takes us.

Between the boys' activities and getting my writing in, it could be easy to fill the summer, too. But I try very hard to give the kids plenty of time just for playing. I mean, we're not recluses. My kids are looking forward to Quarry Hill Camp. They'll play baseball. Christian's trying his hand at Invention Camp. But just as importantly, I schedule time — entire weeks — just for playing. For taking walks and trying out new skateboard tricks. For exploring at Foster Ahrends. For baking brownies and watering the garden — in the hopes that it might actually turn into a water fight.

The best part about having a leisurely summer is that you're really ready for the routine to start again in the fall. Which is why, come September, I'll probably have a new countdown: "Only six days until school starts!"

Jen's Column / Rochester Reads

Hey all! It turns out that anyone can vote for Rochester Reads -- so if you're so inclined to give Candyfreak your vote, check out the link below. (This will all make sense once you read...)

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I have a confession. I've never participated in Rochester Reads. Haven't voted. Haven't read the books. Haven't sat in on any of the discussions.

You'd think I'd have done this, right? I'm a reader. Heck, I'm a writer. This is my kind of thing.

Plus, if the program's title is to be believed, Rochester Reads. So it's my duty — as it is yours — to get in on this. I already think of us Rochesterites as one big family (with the occasional cranky grandpa and a few weird cousins thrown in), and I love the idea of all of us curling up with the same book.

For those of you who are new to the program, here's a quick 411 on how it works: Each year, the Rochester Reads committee pulls together a list of prospective books — some nominated by the committee, some nominated by community members. You and I are then invited to vote for our favorites. We get to pick one main title, one young adult title and one children's title from the bunch. When the winning book in each category is announced, we all read it and attend related events. Last year, 7,000 people participated in Rochester Reads events, which included author visits, films, discussions and other programs.

Seriously. We are like the coolest city.

I'd already decided this was my year to get with the program — and then I found out that Steve Almond's book, Candyfreak, was one of the books up for the honor.

For possibly the first time in my life, I actually said the words, "Hot damn!"

There are a number of reasons I'd like to see Candyfreak win the Rochester Reads honor. One is because, simply, I love this book. It's the story of Almond's freakish obsession with candy (with which I can totally relate) mixed with a tour of independent candy companies who are struggling to survive in a world of conglomerates.

Like my other favorite contemporary writers (Dave Eggers, David Sedaris), Almond's writing is funny and real. Plus, he's a fantastic public reader. I've had the opportunity to hear him read twice, including once last fall when he came through Minneapolis on a book tour. ("He makes you laugh and think and feel all at once," gushed a friend at the time.) Almond also happens to have led a writing workshop I attended last summer – and, frankly, it would just be cool to see him again.

But mostly I'd like to see Candyfreak make the cut because it has all the elements I look for in a good book: It's hysterical and conversational. It's thought-provoking and entertaining.

To show you I'm not alone in my adoration, I shot my friend Jen an e-mail and asked her to share her Candyfreak opinions for this column. It turns out Jen should be a book reviewer.

"Someone said Candyfreak was like a Whitman sampler, but it's not really," she wrote. "Whitman samplers, for all their variety, are still a bit formulaic and boring: waxy, grainy, a waste of calories. If you have to assign Candyfreak a metaphor, make it artisan chocolate — the kind you can't get just anywhere. The hand-crafted stuff that's pure quality and a personality all its own. Almond's book is that handmade stuff that's so unique you'll want to savor it but it's so good you end up just stuffing the whole thing in your mouth and feeling sick and happy.

And, really, I can't top that synopsis so I'm not even going to try.

Whether your vote is for Candyfreak or one of the other worthy Rochester Reads books, I invite you to join me in jumping on the Rochester Reads bandwagon this year. Voting began June 1 and continues until the end of the month. Visit the Rochester Reads Web site at www.rochesterreads.org or stop in at the library, the Post-Bulletin or the Apache Mall Barnes & Noble to cast your ballot.