Update:
Ira took his first steps yesterday! The first time it was actually more like a shuffle, step, shuffle. But you know, you’ve gotta start somewhere.
Preparations for Minnesota are coming together, one small step at a time. A bunch of our stuff is in boxes, and our apartment that we’ll move into sounds really nice (thanks to Carolyn for checking it out for us.) We’re just praying for good weather now. Anthony just read on weather.com that “A multi-day, multi-region potentially historic and destructive winter storm will unleash its fury beginning Monday and will last through Wednesday.” Erg, we leave Thursday. Or at least that’s the plan.
We’ve had some fun get together s with friends. We’ll miss this ward, and area, but look forward to a new leaf in MN.
That’s about it. Below are some random writings.
Head banging to Kiss
Since becoming a mom, I’ve been pretty impressed with the convenience of baby to parent proportions. A couple examples:
• Mom’s arms are perfect length for cradling and nursing an infant.
• Cradling him also means that parents can make eye contact at the perfect distance for his developing vision capabilities.
• When baby start to toddle his hand reaching up, meets parents hand reaching down perfectly for the two to walk together.
I’m sure there are dozens of other examples, but I have long been disgruntled with a serious flaw in the system! Ira’s chubby little cheeks are so delightful to kiss that I can’t resist, no matter how many times my nose has poked him in the eye. This has happened far more than I’d like to admit. But seriously, why would cheeks like that be made if not to be kissed? And why would the only thing protruding out of my face fit directly into the most vulnerable part of his face?
Fortunately, Ira’s a fast learner. He’s come up with the self defensive solution of responding to my puckered lips with a lean forward and quick nod to offer his forehead. Sometimes he even does this repeatedly. I call it head banging kisses, which are fun for both of us. I get to keep kissing, and he gets to avoid intense pain from a nose poking him in the eye.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Ira's First Birthday
Friday we celebrated Ira's first birthday! I can't believe a year has gone by so quickly. His latest tricks are:
- Standing without holding on to anything
- Making a Growling/ hocking a luggie sound
- Feeding himself more than we feed him
- Signing for more food (Instead of squawking and flapping his arms)
To celebrate his birthday we blew up some balloons, which he loves playing with, and wrapped a few presents. We wanted to give him chocolate cake for the first time and let him get all messy so we could take some cute pictures, but our attempts failed as demonstrated in the video above (If you are reading this in email you might have to go to the blog to see the video). We couldn't even get him to eat the berry pie. I guess we can't really complain that he refuses to eat sugar. If the video wasn't enough I've put on a few other pictures from the happy day.
Playing with his balloons, probably the one present that's kept him the most occupied.
He's still figuring out the 'present inside the wrapper' idea.
He likes his new block toys, especially knocking towers over.
Friday, January 14, 2011
It's Snow Time
Connecticut got a nice big snow storm this week. There was a travel ban until they were able to clear the roads so I was working from home. It was difficult to get anything meaningful done because so many people were trying to sign into the network they ran out of connections. I got a good workout moving the snow around, I am now a qualified 'Snow Relocation Engineer'.
We took Ira out for his first play in the snow....
As you can see, it didn't last very long. We are going to have to warm him up to the idea of being cold and playing in the snow.
We took Ira out for his first play in the snow....
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Christmas Adventures
This Christmas we traveled down South with our first stop in D.C.
We were able to see Mom and Dad, Diane Francis and her brand new fiance' Paul! She proposed to him just a few minutes before this pictures! Is it me, or does it seem to be an Ellsworth woman thing to propose?
We were able to see the Larsens who were spending most of their holidays with Mom and Dad. I'm kicking myself for not taking more pictures of them. Christmas eve, we continued South to Georgia to spend some holiday goodness with the Applebees.
Christmas Morning.
It took Ira a while to figure out that something was inside of the wrappings.
Check out Lauren's awesome antlers.
We love the hats Allison!
Ira starts to get the hang of unwrapping.
...but still doesn't get that the paper isn't the present.
He especially liked your paper Camille.
Almost as much as what was inside.
Andersonville with the Applebees.
We have an ancestor (or at least the spouse of an ancestor) who died here. I didn't even know there were POW camps during the Civil War.
I hate to end, on such a tomb-stoney note. So I may as well share this picture of Kris and Dennis being all romantic on their anniversary. This is at Carter's old High School and stomping ground in Plains, GA.
I think most of you have heard that Anthony's next rotation is in Minnesota, about 15 minutes from the Durants. Woohoo! We can't wait to be so close to them. It's a little stressful getting ready for the move and we are praying really hard that some of Anthony's colleagues will want to stay in our place while we're away. Chances are that we'll be back here in CT in 6 months. Anthony got pretty sick as we wrapped up our travels and is still fighting a couple of things. I think I've finally convinced him to make a doctor appointment. Ira has been lots of fun lately, super cuddly and smiley. Life is generally fantastic.
Technology Naming Conventions
I really don't know where they come up with the names and naming conventions for tech companies and their products, but it was only a matter of time before something like this came along. I thought many of you would appreciate it, enjoy.
Monday, January 3, 2011
First Christmas Toys
Happy New Year to all! We're looking forward to the New Year and the many adventures and challenges it holds. I'm excited for another year with Sharon and Ira. Chritmas was great. We had a wonderful trip to Macon, Georgia and will post more pictures soon.
Ira enjoyed his first Christmas, mostly intrigued with the bows, ribbons, wrapping paper, and packaging than with the actual things inside of them. He did eventual get around to the toys though. Grandma Quinn sent this fun one which he finds entertaining now he know how it works. Enjoy the video. (For those who get this via email you might have to go to the website to watch the video.)
Ira enjoyed his first Christmas, mostly intrigued with the bows, ribbons, wrapping paper, and packaging than with the actual things inside of them. He did eventual get around to the toys though. Grandma Quinn sent this fun one which he finds entertaining now he know how it works. Enjoy the video. (For those who get this via email you might have to go to the website to watch the video.)
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Memory Tree
I wrote most of this before Christmas, but ran out of time before I could finish it. If you didn't grow up an Ellsworth, you'll probably find this more boring than sentimental. So as always, no insult is found in skipping it. Happy New Year everyone!
I remember going over to a friend’s house as a teenager and being blown away by her Christmas tree. It was as if Martha Stewart herself had decorated it. Every year her mom chose a theme: angels, Santa, stars etc. That year it was snowmen, and there were snowmen of all sorts dotting the tree, snow women, snow families, and a snow angel at the top. Beautiful silver ribbon encircled the branches and sparkly snow-like balls were each carefully hung by the mother of the home.
I went home anticipating the choosing and decorating of our own tree. In a few days we’d go to the Hope’s house where my parents had helped plant Christmas trees 25 years earlier. We’d pick out the one we liked best and place it in the corner of our downstairs living room. We’d lug a few boxes down from the attic, turn on some Handel, and begin the process.
Our tree was never a magazine tree. It was what my Mom called a Memory Tree, which I think means that my parents never threw away a gifted ornament in their lives. There were lots, and each one had a happy memory or loved friend associated with it. Branches or our tree never had room for shiny red balls, or clever themes. From a purely aesthetic standpoint, it probably wasn’t too impressive. It was almost like happy memories had thrown up all over the tree. There were the crocheted angels made by adopted Grandma Althouse, the personalized clay Ellsworth family figures from the Arnolds, sea shells from vacations at cape cod, glittery preschool art projects, and of course missionary tags. Those of us who served missions in our family had a tradition of sending home a name tag to be hung up, so that we could in a way be home for the holidays. An Elder Ellsworth and a few Sister Ellsworth plaques could be distinguished only by the language their name was inscribed.
I remember when fairy lights rose in popularity, and their monochromatic, dainty elegance took over our neighborhood’s front porches. But we would keep our colorful, clunky lights that looked like they fell right out of the 1950s. They looked like huge, glowing holiday lollypops casting colors all over the room. It was by their glow that I would write Santa every year, a wish list to lay by a sock a had dug out of my drawer.
I met a women in California who filled her home with 32 Christmas trees every year, and decorated each uniquely. There was the kitchen themed tree, the peacock tree, the disco ball tree... It was great fun to explore her giant house and have my picture taken with at least ten of her decorative creations. But when I think of Donegal Place and the smell of that fresh pine, the Hallelujah Chorus and hot chocolate, the scrapple and the ornaments each reflecting happy times and wonderful people, I can’t help but wonder what my tree will look like in 20 years. Right now it is small, smaller than Ira. It’s artificial, and covered in fairy lights. But it’s happy. It’s Jean Gerdes, and pasta angel, and Pittsburgh preschool student happy. The fact that we can’t fit all of our one string of lights on its’ small branches, is irrelevant. I still hear Handle, can taste the scrapple, and best of all, feel the warmth of love all around me. There will be longer branches for more memories another year.
I remember going over to a friend’s house as a teenager and being blown away by her Christmas tree. It was as if Martha Stewart herself had decorated it. Every year her mom chose a theme: angels, Santa, stars etc. That year it was snowmen, and there were snowmen of all sorts dotting the tree, snow women, snow families, and a snow angel at the top. Beautiful silver ribbon encircled the branches and sparkly snow-like balls were each carefully hung by the mother of the home.
I went home anticipating the choosing and decorating of our own tree. In a few days we’d go to the Hope’s house where my parents had helped plant Christmas trees 25 years earlier. We’d pick out the one we liked best and place it in the corner of our downstairs living room. We’d lug a few boxes down from the attic, turn on some Handel, and begin the process.
Our tree was never a magazine tree. It was what my Mom called a Memory Tree, which I think means that my parents never threw away a gifted ornament in their lives. There were lots, and each one had a happy memory or loved friend associated with it. Branches or our tree never had room for shiny red balls, or clever themes. From a purely aesthetic standpoint, it probably wasn’t too impressive. It was almost like happy memories had thrown up all over the tree. There were the crocheted angels made by adopted Grandma Althouse, the personalized clay Ellsworth family figures from the Arnolds, sea shells from vacations at cape cod, glittery preschool art projects, and of course missionary tags. Those of us who served missions in our family had a tradition of sending home a name tag to be hung up, so that we could in a way be home for the holidays. An Elder Ellsworth and a few Sister Ellsworth plaques could be distinguished only by the language their name was inscribed.
I remember when fairy lights rose in popularity, and their monochromatic, dainty elegance took over our neighborhood’s front porches. But we would keep our colorful, clunky lights that looked like they fell right out of the 1950s. They looked like huge, glowing holiday lollypops casting colors all over the room. It was by their glow that I would write Santa every year, a wish list to lay by a sock a had dug out of my drawer.
I met a women in California who filled her home with 32 Christmas trees every year, and decorated each uniquely. There was the kitchen themed tree, the peacock tree, the disco ball tree... It was great fun to explore her giant house and have my picture taken with at least ten of her decorative creations. But when I think of Donegal Place and the smell of that fresh pine, the Hallelujah Chorus and hot chocolate, the scrapple and the ornaments each reflecting happy times and wonderful people, I can’t help but wonder what my tree will look like in 20 years. Right now it is small, smaller than Ira. It’s artificial, and covered in fairy lights. But it’s happy. It’s Jean Gerdes, and pasta angel, and Pittsburgh preschool student happy. The fact that we can’t fit all of our one string of lights on its’ small branches, is irrelevant. I still hear Handle, can taste the scrapple, and best of all, feel the warmth of love all around me. There will be longer branches for more memories another year.
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