All posts by TZT

Mom. She-hack. Armchair astronomer. Buddhist.

I made it into Alltop!

I am having a good week!

Author and venture capitalist Guy Kawasaki has deemed my little blog worthy of a spot on the moms page at Alltop. (Thanks to Amy for the heads up that it’s there!) The site is a brand-new “digital magazine rack” put together by the creators of Truemors with single pages of links to the latest web stories on a variety of topics, including design, egos, science, politics, music and a bunch of others. There’s even a Twitterati section that features top messages from a bunch of the top Twitter-ers. According to the site’s about page, they are “trying to enhance your online reading by both displaying stories from the sites that you’re already visiting and helping you discover sites that you didn’t know existed.”

That of course means that there, alongside the heavy-hitters of the blogging mom world like Dooce, Parent Hacks, Finslippy, Confessions of a Pioneer Woman, and Strollerderby are some lesser-known mommy sites, including mine!

You can read more about Alltop on Webware, or watch an interview with Kawasaki about it on Mashable.

We look good in silver

I just received a happy piece of news in my email. For the second year running, KnowledgeWorks Foundation’s annual publications about urban high school reform have won silver Wilmer Shields Rich awards from the Council on Foundations (the awards aren’t listed on their site yet, but we received word from our editor).

As one of the foundation’s “storytellers,” I wrote pieces for both the small school and early college books last year.

The foundation’s “Think Tank” publication, Primer, also won a silver award. I wrote about my experience in the storytelling project for one of its issues last fall.

I began this work the same week that I lost the last of my grandparents, and a few short months before I got pregnant with Declan. For as long as I have been a mommy, I’ve also been a regular visitor at schools where the majority of the student body qualifies for free or assisted lunch. I have learned a lot (the Primer article I linked to above says much more about that than I can muster in a post).

And at the same time that any preconceived notions I had about the term “economically disadvantaged” have peeled off like onion skin, I’ve ironically had one of the biggest privileges of my freelance career — a regular working relationship with writing and editing peers from around the state. In a line of work that tends to be isolating, I can’t tell you how rare and wonderful that is, especially because they are some darn bright, talented, fun and passionate people.

Of our combined work, one of the judges said: “Loved the idea of storytelling to address impact – anecdotal evidence speaks to emotional core as does education… could serve as a model for others.”

While most of the more routine things I write for publication have to land within 50 words of a given marker, I’ve had the chance to write expansively during this project. And while my writing has often been carved down in order to see print, I’ve learned that I probably should be rolling in research and interviewing more people who don’t ordinarily get much ink (or pixels) and ultimately writing books. My peers in this project have really helped me to see, and become more optimistic about that possibility.

Having put in our four years, we’re getting ready to graduate from the project this summer, so, the award is a little bittersweet. Congrats, colleagues!

What’s funny?

I laughed at something or other I read online yesterday — some sarcastic line or political joke or wry comment — and Declan came running across the room.

“What’s funny, mommy? What’s funny?”

It wasn’t really anything I could explain to him. I told him that I just read something that made me laugh.

“But what was it, mommy?” He touched my knee and tilted his head to the side, looking me straight in the eye. I generally try to respond to any question he asks, so he’s used to an answer.

It made me think of the lifetime of small moments like this that I have behind me — the innumerable times that I did not want to miss the joke. The times I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to snuggle into the warmth of belonging you feel when you are laughing with someone else, into the safety of understanding the same thing together.

Every day, our level of conversation takes another step forward, as does his sense of independence. Like today, when he wanted to bring his starry comforter upstairs from the basement by himself.

“I can do it. I’m a very strong boy,” he told me, just like that, wrestling the thing up the steps. I didn’t stop him. I just maneuvered into a place where I thought I could catch him if he lost his balance.

He is still only two. Remarkable and hilarious and irrational and affectionate and cupcake-crazy two. For now, the answer to “what’s funny” can still be diverted with ease, no explanations necessary.

“It’s funny to have such a funny little boy,” I told him, and tickled him to the edge of wild giggles. “It’s funny and fun.”

Work. Play. Snow. Work.

This was an unusually busy week for us, much of it spent in an odd hotel suite while our home was lead abated. The lobby was well supplied with huge red delicious apples and bananas, and Dan and Declan even got several chances to swim while I did a lot of work that was much harder than it should have been.

Our original problems with paint didn’t happen in this house, but it feels good to be in a place that remains old and charming, yet has been made that much safer.

I also finally got the chance to meet the amazing Dawn today, which was a treat, since we have more in common than a few friends. Then we slid back home through the blizzardyness and I managed to work some more.

If the roads are clear enough tomorrow, Declan has a date with his girlfriend to go sledding, although I’m not sure where. I’m thinking that for a couple of two-year-olds, any old lump of a hill will be a thrill.

Thinking

I’ve seen a lot of concern and frustration about yesterday’s primary in the blogosphere today. But I’m much more optimistic, and glad my state got to participate in the democratic process.

I have more to say, but this week is crazy.

Here is an interview a former colleague of mine did on the BBC last night about who she voted for and why. Zoe’s Dad posted about his voting experience as well.

Watching, waiting, donut

The first news I heard after sitting down and comparing policy to policy on the two Democratic candidates’ web sites was this: The governor gave my mom a non-partisan donut at the polling place this morning.

Dan looked out the window at the freezing rain and said “this looks like a day that Hillary can win.” We drove past a park where all of the footbridges had been swallowed by water. The rivers are swelling.

Declan helped me press the buttons, just as I used to with mom when I was little. Dan chided us that it wasn’t legal.

Yo, talking heads on television – Ohio hates it when you try and tell it what to do.

Cheese for the snow

Declan and his dad went out on dog poop patrol this morning, since the snow has finally begun to melt away. He was rocking the cute in last summer’s hat, so I pulled out my camera to snap a few pictures.

“Cheese for the snow,” he said.

This week, he started snatching the camera from me, wanting to take his own pictures (like his first self-portrait). He was particularly assertive about his desire to do this today, so I let him document our deck for a few moments.

I may be speaking more as mommy here than art reviewer, but I think that his two-year-old sense of composition is pretty amazing:

If I get the digital SLR I’ve been dreaming of this year, maybe I’ll just give him my camera.