Now we are one!

A favorite new toy

Sheesh. I didn't realize that it had been almost a month since I last wrote anything. Having a one year old will do that to you, I guess. Yes, a one year old. Malcolm turned one last week. 

Cupcake, pre-Malcolm

It has been a roller coaster year for his parents. There were days (weeks, if I am honest) when I wasn't sure I'd make it as a parent. When it seemed as if we would be stuck in purgatory with a crying, non-sleeping, always hungry baby. When I couldn't imagine being able to eat out again, do things with other people, have an adult conversation.

Grandma came to visit, bearing books!

But, as with all things, those days passed. The most important lesson I have learned (and still have to be reminded of, at least when I have been getting up at 5 AM several days in a row) is that every phase is temporary.

Malcolm is growing into a real person, complete with a definite personality. He's stubborn, smart, and funny. There are still days when I am not sure I will make it as a parent, but I guess we all have those. 

Cupcake, mid-Malcolm squashing

Happy Birthday Malcolm! I can't wait to see what year two brings!

Score one for the librarian mama

One of my favorite onesies that Malcolm has is from Mental Floss that says "Jonathan Swift can bite me." For you non-English majors out there, this is a reference to this satirical essay. Go read it, I'll wait.

Anyway, he wore this onesie to library story time today. After it was over, while Malcolm was saying goodbye to the dog puppet, the librarian in charge laughed and told me that when she lost her place and stopped talking during an activity, it was because she had looked over and saw the shirt and figured out the reference.

Sourdough no-go

I feel like I ought to be one of those people with their own sourdough starter living in their fridge; I want to be one of those people. I have certainly tried often enough, but the only time I have been successful was when we lived in New York. Eventually we got tired of always having to have sourdough bread or pancakes to keep it going, and it was forgotten at the back of the fridge. A couple of weeks ago, in my current baking frenzy, I decided to give sourdough another go and mixed up a starter. All was well for a while - the starter was bubbling and souring nicely. But one morning when I went to stir it, I found a fuzzy grey scum on the top. Sigh. I am beginning to agree with James Beard, who thought that sourdough bread was far too fickle for the home baker to deal with, and said that "I am not sure it is worth the trouble." At least not in Arkansas.