A few people have wondered how the blog fast has been going.  In a word, great.  In another word, not so great. It’s been great because I have stuck to it, and easily.  What I thought was going to be a challenge has actually been rather painless, with the exception of missing out on the comings and goings of my friends.  What hasn’t been great is that I now have time for things like Twitter and responding to emails.  I had to quickly curb that last week because I was starting to replace one with the other.  It kind of defeats the point of the blog fast, wouldn’t you agree?

Even with the lure of social media, I’ve still been able to do a few things since Lent started besides make deodorant. On top of a few weekend adventures that included feeding the ducks and visiting one of the largest tackle supply stores in the United States (don’t ask), we celebrated two birthdays.

I made crackers.

I’ve been eating very clean and enjoying my GNOWFGLINS ecourse. [Side note--every time I post what I eat I am reminded of the blogging book, No One Cares What You Had For Lunch.]

My life wouldn’t be complete without testing paint.

I’m still participating in Souvenir Photo, which has been good at forcing me to leave the house. I made the mistake of choosing a magnolia tree in my parent’s front yard as my 6-week subject. That means once a week I have to, like, leave the house. Get in the car. Time things so that lighting is good, but different from the week before.

And, finally, I have been enjoying God’s grace, as my niece is home safe and sound (with antibiotics) from the hospital.  On Thursday I received a call from my sister-in-law telling me that my five month old niece was on the way to the hospital via ambulance.  From what little we knew from her exceptionally negligent daycare, she was 70 degrees, blue, and non responsive.  They couldn’t tell us if she was alive, and the twenty-forty minutes (it’s a blur) that went by without any of us knowing were the worst moments of my life.  I always imagined that praying on my knees would hurt given my weight, but it turns out that the fear and pain of the unknown TOTALLY outweigh the pain of suddenly dropping to your knees in prayer (and tears) from a standing position.  Who knew?

I haven’t done anything terribly exciting, and sometimes I feel like I don’t have much interesting to say (I made crackers! Wh00t!) but it’s a nice feeling to know I have been so busy living my life that I don’t always have time to blog about my life, you know?

Valentine’s Day at school can be tough for a little boy. Nothing softens the blow of all that pink like paleontology Valentines. You know. Little red boxes (fossil holders) filled with chocolate rocks and topped with a gummy tarantula found during a high-risk excavation. It’s all very daring and sinister, but in a loving way.

By the way–how cool are these chocolate rocks? Fabulous. And–get this–they are actually darn tasty, like Nestle Crunch bits.  I made sure to buy enough for 35 Valentines, and not an ounce more.

And so it ends. In the words of my friend, Harvey, Whew! Glad that’s over.

Yesterday we had The Mister’s family over to celebrate Christmas. It was low key, casual, and a perfect reminder for me to focus on the one resolution I have planned for the year: celebrate more.

The Mister and I are born recluses. We would gladly and graciously decline every party invitation we receive with only a twinge of guilt.  We are no more hospitable at home, either.  As newlyweds, we at least had people over (very) occasionally. Now we can say–a bit shamefaced–we never have people over.

We can blame this transgression on our hermit personalities, but there is a good deal of perfectionism mixed in there, too.

The house isn’t decorated the way I want.

We need a new dining room table.

My cooking could be better.

Maybe people won’t have a good time.

It’s too expensive to entertain the way I would like.

We’re tired from soccer and baseball and homework and life.

We really aren’t that fun.

And many, many more reasons I can come up with to keep from entertaining.

This year I have decided to worry less about what people may or may not be thinking about me, my food, or my house.  At first I didn’t know what this meant or how I would measure my success, but I think I have come up with a game plan.  At least once a month, we will host a party (small or large, the size is irrelevant).  With people. And food.  Maybe invitations, although a simple phone call is okay, too.  Whether we celebrate the ordinary, the extraordinary, or the seasons, it doesn’t really matter.  The idea is to gather together friends and family without thought for the bathrooms in need of a remodel or the fact that the art of pie crust making continues to allude me.  (And for that, Pillsbury, I will always love you.)

January marks the first party.  I’m not sure who or what or when we will be celebrating, but with citrus season in full swing around these parts, I can tell you what the menu and theme will most likely revolve around. Unless, of course, you can think of something better. I’ve been looking online for books on entertaining, and I can’t seem to find any good ones that include children. I don’t want to exclude the boys and, since most of our friends have children the same age, it seems silly to do so. Alicia Paulson has been recommending the book Food for Friends for years now. My friend, Kara, recommends anything by Ina Garten.  Please do share your favorites.

So, that’s it.  My resolution for the year 2010 is to celebrate more.  I’m already a ball of nerves, antacid in hand.

I’ll be spending it with my parents, The Mister, and these two rapscallions.  I hope you get to spend yours with people you love, too.

p.s. No, Nico does not have a case of baby herpes. What you see is the aftermath of two separate tousles with rogue, plastic dinosaurs. If you think he looks bad, you should see the Spinosaurus.