The Life I Imagine

Resolution - evolution

2012-01-15T17:18:00.000-08:00

I'm not usually one for New Years resolutions. Personally I think its tough to start a year off with a bunch of changes in the hope to change yourself in 365 days. For me its much like the notion of a running a marathon having never run before. Little bit overwhelming. Ok even a 5k is overwhelming to me!

I do think, however, that it is always good, when given the chance, to reflect on the things we love about ourselves and those we wish to improve upon.

Today I was given the chance to think about one particular way I'd like to evolve.

My mom called at some point this last week to tell me she'd invited some mutual friends to my parents home for dinner - and would we like to come...hum...would we like to come???

Pause for some background: The last few weeks have been busy - crazy busy. Actually more than a couple of weeks. In fact it seems like since October I've been running pretty much non-stop. We've been traveling (fun!) and holidaying (fun and stressful!) and attending to normal life stuff. And...the crucial piece....E has been under an immense amount of stress. This means long (LONG!) hours. Frustration. Days gone. Late nights. Tough conversations. He's been gone a lot - both physically and mentally. And when he's home I've been in "listening" mode. Cheerleader. Supportive wife. It has been difficult. For both of us as I've dealt with our normal life and he's focused on his work life. I'm not complaining. Its a role we have both played for each other. Just giving some scope.

So when my Mom called I said I'd think about it....but (and this is the crucial part) my gut said NO! Partly because I thought about taking the boys down to the hotel Eric is at to swim and spend the night before I have to work tomorrow. But mostly...because I knew I'd be tired.

But I said I'd think about it.

And when she called again yesterday, in the midst of an incredibly busy day I again said "I'll think about it".

I didn't follow my gut instinct.

So when she called again today (holy pressure!) and I finally said what I knew all along "No." I'm whooped. And while it would be nice to see these friends it would take energy I just don't have right now.

I could tell she was upset. Or disappointed. A feeling that would have been lessened had I just said how I felt in the first place.

And this is a familiar feeling to me. Knowing that if I'd just said what I needed to at first that the disappointment would be lessened. Or at least dealt with earlier. Yet, in an effort to avoid disappointing people, I think I try to stall in hopes that I can find the energy or arrange schedules or do something to fix it so I can avoid the disappointment. Yet the whole time I ignore my gut instinct.

So that is my hope. Not necessarily to be completed in a year...maybe it will take more or less time. I'd like to try and find a way to go with what I know...to be ok with going with my gut. Even if it means hurt feelings, missed adventures, or the big D word (disappointment). I'm not sure how to accomplish this...maybe just taking smaller steps...

For now I'm just glad to have identified it...as for the rest of it...well I'm too tired to figure that all out right now :)

Westerdaming It

2011-10-25T20:24:00.000-07:00

This post is called Westerdaming It. What it really should be called is: how to hit an iceberg and not sink.

But that title is too long.

My kids have been reading about the Titanic. A short fifteen page book that teaches them the watered down (no pun intended) version of the short life of the RMS Titanic.

This book has led to internet searches, and discussions, in a limited 6 & 7 year old scope, of the seaworthiness of the boat, the changes in nautical technology, and of course the choices made by crew/leadership that ultimately led to the fate of the ship and all her passengers.

The Titanic and it's iceberg have been on my mind. The ship. The iceberg. Sinking. So I set off this afternoon to find out what boats have hit icebergs without sinking. Turns out that in just May of this year a cruise boat, the MS Westerdam escaped a Titanic-esque fate when it hit a much smaller iceberg in Alaska.

Combine this research (e.g. internet and 15 page book) with my current state of mind and all I've thought about this afternoon is: how to hit an iceberg and not sink.

Earlier this year I hit an iceberg, metaphorically speaking. And I feel as though my swim through the blue period has all been a fight against sinking. Sinking into dark places deep in the ocean of depression and anger and soul destruction.

Ok "the dark places deep in the ocean"- I'm corny, but that's stretching the analogy.

But really. How do we keep from sinking? I'm not really asking anyone. Just typing aloud.

Right now the three things that come to mind during this journey for me, that have been my lifeboats (oh there's the damn analogy again) are:

- Service. Long ago my mother counseled me that if I kept my eye on the world outside me, the world inside me wouldn't seem so hard. Each time I feel overwhelmed by the feelings inside, or the realization of what has occurred, I turn my thoughts back out and try to put someone else into my focus. Be it a small act like reading with my children or larger acts for people in much more need than me, it has helped to keep focused. To keep shifting from self-pity to gratitude.

- E. Husband. Hubby. Hubster. Whatever you call him. Long nights. Even longer discussions. Perhaps a bit of crying (mine, not his) as I've struggled to understand this journey. As I've tried to heal. He is not without his faults. But he is a man who sees me for my own faults, and loves me just the same. He's the one, that in my darkest blue has told me that from this will come my brightest yellow. And given that he has been in pain with this too, it's all the more incredible that he's led the way and held fast.

- Esteem. I'm not sure what to call this one actually. In fact I didn't really know of it's existence in this journey until today. I had an experience, which for a moment set me back. As I was engaging in my self-therapy I heard myself say out loud (as opposed to the inside voices which engage in most my self-therapy): This will not define me.

Unlike the iceberg which will forever be linked to the RMS Titanic, and to sinking ships in general, my iceberg will not sink me. It will not define me.

My Blue Period

2011-10-19T07:36:00.000-07:00

It's been a while.

And I thought to start back off I'd show you something that's been making me happy:

This is my desktop on my home office computer. Sunrise*. I love it. Sometimes I sit and eat my breakfast staring at it. Often times I'm staring at it after already watching the sun rise in real life. Morning is underrated - so many people complain about alarms and getting up in the dark. I get it. Morning is a four-letter word to some folks.

For me though there is nothing like rising before everyone else. Sitting in the cool darkness of a quiet house. Lacing up my running shoes, and heading out. Watching the dark turn shades of blue as the sky grows lighter. The stillness of the morning - quiet roads - warmly lit homes - dogs too tired to pay notice my movements - birds just starting their chatter.

And then the moment. The moment when, much like in this picture, the sun peeks over our Blue Mountain. I always stop...turn off my music...and pause for moments...minutes....and breathe...sometimes cry...it's a beautiful moment. The moment that holds all the days anticipation in it. Nothing is written, nothing is solid. Possibility abounds. It is...impossible to describe. Every morning.

This is my life. A dark period that Eric and I fondly call my Blue Period. Dark for reasons not relevant to this blog. I am learning to love the dark. To love the stillness, and clarity that comes from this phase. And each day, my blue is turning bright. My sun is peeking over the mountain. I am seeing, as cliche as it sounds, the light again.

And then the moment. The moment when, much like in this picture, the light outshines the dark...I always stop...turn off my thoughts...and pause for moments...minutes....and breathe...sometimes cry...it's a beautiful moment. The moment that holds all of my anticipation in it. Nothing is written, nothing is solid. Possibility abounds. It is...impossible to describe.

*one could note that most likely this picture is of a sunset and not a sunrise. Given that I have no idea which is east/west, that's true. But for my intents and purposes, it's a sunrise.

Veteran Traveller

2010-06-13T10:34:00.000-07:00

I opened my email yesterday to find this treasure - a story from Brian Andreas:

carries a lot of suitcases but all of them are empty because she's expecting to completely fill them with life by the end of this trip & then she'll come home & sort everything out & do it all again

It happened to come at a perfect moment. I was stressing over the things still left on my to-do list before I leave.

I leave for Kenya in exactly two weeks.

And I'm torn. Torn between being excited for the adventure and completely flipped out over the bits and pieces that need to be taken care of.

The best advice I've been giving (which is good since it was paid advice) is to lean into the experience. Which is what I am trying to do. When I have those moments where the "stuff" is outweighing the excitement I try to visualize myself letting go and leaning in.

Sometimes it works - and sometimes it doesn't. See inside of me I have two fighting personas. One that needs everything planned out and the other that really, really, really wants to be bohemian. Who wants to throw caution to the wind. Like that scene in Pride and Prejudice where Lizzie is standing on the rocks, high above the world, with the wind blowing. She is fully committed to that experience. Oh how I long to stand on those rocks.

I want to take my empty suitcases and fill them, and then head back out again.

Mostly I'm excited. This is huge.

100%

2010-05-29T22:42:00.000-07:00

There is my husband.

He's about ten feet away folding laundry.

He just washed the dishes.

He just picked up all of the left-out toys.

This is after a day full of kids, adventures, parties, in-laws, etc.

I'd like to be helping him. Even more I'd like to walk over and say "let me rub your back".

But I'm not. I'm here. Sitting. Tired. Plain worn out.

Wondering. What would it be like to give 100%? I mean, each day I give 100% - more. But never 100% in each facet of my life. I'm never 100% a wife. At best I might hit 75%.

So I wonder.

What would it be like to say I can give 100% as a mom today. To say that I'm not doing anything else but giving 100% to them. Or to him. Or to myself.

Funkifried

2010-04-14T14:44:00.000-07:00

I'm in a funk.

I think. I'm not sure really.

I'm doing everything I should be doing.

Running.

Working.

Playing with kids.

Amorous moments with husband I won't divulge online.

Meeting new people.

Chatting with friends.

Still. I can't shake the feeling that something isn't right.

Perhaps I'm just tired - or fried as it were.

It's been a long five months.

That's it. That's all.

Unfair

2010-01-28T18:48:00.000-08:00

This post needs no fancy words...no verbose ramblings of my mind.

It's plain. It's simple.

Cancer sucks.

It makes me want to cry.

It makes me want to never let go of anyone I love.

It makes me completely irrational. Forget anything I've learned about death, disease, and dying. Forget anything about cherishing a good life, even if it's cut short.

It makes me want to be violent.

It makes me want to storm into jails and beat up prisoners who live their lives in comfort after doing heinous things.

Because cancer's brutal truth is it strips life away from good people. Amazing people who live wonderful lives of honesty, truth, and beauty. And it robs them of all that. It does worse than rob - it ravages their very bodies and souls.

Sometimes it spits them out alive to face the world. Sometimes it does not.

It leaves their spouses widows. Their children parentless. Their parents childless.

Cancer is the very essence of unfair.

Damn, it just sucks.

Beyond Caring

2010-01-27T17:01:00.001-08:00

StoryPeople is some of my favorite art - the realistic sayings and the out-of-the-box art really jive with me. Bought my first piece about ten years ago...after a random stop in a Santa Barbara store.

Now I receive their "Story of the Day" via email. Some hit home - some make me smile - some make me teary.

This one is dead on:

Copyright StoryPeople

Filled Up

2010-01-17T09:11:00.001-08:00

This past week I attended a Forgiveness Ceremony at the church we've been going to. Unsure of what to expect I tried to set low expectations and open my mind up for anything. Even though I myself am a touchy-feely person I'm still not used to all the open symbolism and upfront honesty that comes with UUism.

I wish I could have taken everyone I know with me. We all carry the burdens of not forgiving - be it of ourselves or others - and it was amazing to sit with a group of people and meditate only on letting go.

Prior to going I spent some time thinking through what act of forgiveness I'd like focus on - who I have in my life that I am carrying a grudge or anger towards. Surprisingly I found myself struggling to identify someone.

I think that is because I have been working hard lately at recognizing the acts of graciousness in my life. I am at a place where I feel like each step I made is one surrounded by people I love (or like immensely) and their hands help me each step. I told one of my friends this the other day when I was thanking her for her recent help:

It seems that right now each step I take on my path of life is preceded by someone who lays down the next stone for me to walk on. Some would say this is a Heavenly Father. Some would say it's karma. Honestly, I'm not sure. At this point all I know is that it's some very real people who help make my life easier.

And when I'm faced with that it's harder to find places of anger and resentment because my mind is so aware of how wonderful my life is thanks to the people in it.

In the end I spent my time focusing on myself. Forgiving myself for past mistakes and bad behaviors. For not being where "I should" be in life. It was nice to take that time to heal myself. To forgive, or at least start forgiving, myself.

It's always hardest for me to be grateful for myself. To recognize my own value, and hard work, and strength. So perhaps that is my next challenge. To recognize the work I am doing, not just others, to make my path walkable.

For those who read this, our program for the ceremony included the following quote. I do believe we could all use and do a little more forgiveness, and a lot more gratitude, to find our lives more peaceful:

"I don't know the motives or circumstances that cause another's behavior. I do know that when I hold onto resentment and blame I occupy my spirit with bitterness. Today I will find a more nuturing way to fill myself up."

Pee Wee

2010-01-08T17:23:00.000-08:00

I've never been good at understanding sports - so I keep laughing that the only way I can think to explain this, without being specific, is with sports. It probably won't make sense - but I need to get it out.

See, I feel as though I'm playing in the major leagues but with pee wee credentials. I've only been playing this game for a few years now but many of those around are baseball giants. I'm expected to keep up, swing at all those curve balls, bat the home runs, and run like hell each time to home plate.

The coaches are yelling at me to stop - go - slide - steal - hold. Whatever it is coaches say. Or tell the players with their little funny finger wags. And that's part of it too. There are so many signals and signs that I see. Some that I understand, some I don't want to understand, and some completely understandable. And yet, I'm expected to understand them and to make my move from them. And to play in the big league.

And yet, I'm really just this kid. Who doesn't want to be hitting at all. I just want to be playing. I just want to be smiling at my friends as we toss the ball around. Learning how to pitch. Learning how to swing. Learning what moves make sense well.

My time would be best spent back in my league. With my players. With my friends.

And I don't know how to get out of it...and I can't help but feel like I owe it to the major leagues to stay because I'm the only one they recruited.

Misty Mornings

2009-12-06T09:06:00.000-08:00

I love mornings. I love having a chance to collect my thoughts (and read blogs) before everyone else gets up. I love listening for the pitter-pat of the boys feet as they search me out. The first hugs of the morning that are warm and strong. Funny conversations, cuddles on the couch, breakfast at a slow, leisurely pace - this is morning.

This morning I rose before everyone else. I wandered through the house. Put a blanket on Eric who had slept in the room with the boys. Tucked the boys back into their bedding, away from the cool morning air. Grabbed my robe and latest book and retreated to the couch.

In most ways this morning is no different than any other one. Tomorrow morning however will be the start of something new. A new out-of-the-home job for me - with hours early in the morning away from the boys.

Will paddled out first this morning. Saw me in the kitchen and ran to get up into my arms.
We cuddled on the couch and I started getting a little teary. He asked if they were "tears of love" which is usually what I tell him. This morning I was honest and said, no these tears were of sadness because I'll miss my morning time with him. He curled right up to me and said "It's not a big deal Mom."

He is right. I consider myself incredibly lucky to have the time with the boys that I do. I get to make a choice. I recognize the value, and cost, of me staying home with the kids...and the value and cost lost of me not working. So this new opportunity is perfect. It allows me to meet some of our family goals with little strain on the boys.

And yet, Will's wrong. Not because giving up my mornings is a big deal. That's not it. It's recognizing that the boys are growing up. They are at a place where who they are with during the day doesn't matter as much as it used to. Most of their basic needs, food, toilet, sleep - are things they can provide for themselves.

I'm not trying to devalue myself - or make it seem like they are past the point of mothering. Rather that as a mom one of the strangest parts of my jobs is that it is constantly evolving. Each new development and phase for them requires a new job description and skill set from me. And this new phase for me also marks a new phase for them. A more independent one.

Oh. I'm going to miss my mornings. What they are. What they signify.

But...for now...for this moment I am going to turn off the computer and tune into my son who just asked me to come play and qualified his request with "...because Mom, playing with me is your favorite thing in the world."

Yes it is.

Upstairs

2009-10-23T19:50:00.001-07:00

Oh no.

I can hear my neighbors.

No, not doing THAT.

Yelling at their kid.

"Lay down!" "Put that down!" "Be quiet!"

Which means I can be heard.

And I've been real short on patience with my kids this week.

And have yelled.

I don't want to be judged on what I've said to my kids the past few days. Because I'm not usually that kind of parent.

Perhaps it is horrible to say that not wanting to be heard is a reason for trying to be a better parent. Perhaps.

But mostly, it's a good reminder that who I am really am is who I want to be around all the time.

Even when I've lost patience....

Nerves

2009-09-21T15:41:00.000-07:00

My nerves have got the better of me.

I just brushed my teeth for the 2nd time. In ten minutes. Because I forgot I had already. Then 1/2 way through spitting I remembered.

Leaving the workplace, one where I had a heavy emphasis on staff management, I looked forward to the day when I'd be back in the interview chair.

Having stayed at home now for almost five years has provided me with a better look at my strengths and weaknesses (if you prefer to call them that) as well as time to work on myself. These have geared me up for the discussion of why I'm qualified to return to my professional world someday.

For the first time in a long time I am facing an interview chair. In about forty minutes. I should be packing up my kids. Should be driving to drop them off. But no. My nerves have got me.

See, tonight isn't just any interview. It's not for a job. It's for a volunteer position. One that I've thought about and considered since April. Wanted to make sure I was strong enough for it. Could I face my fear of death and dying straight on? Hold it's hand even?

And what's got me nervous? Religion.

This is a hospital that is founded by a religion and run by a religion. Pictures of Jesus grace the hallways. One of my friends who worked there said one of the best things for him is that he can pray and ask for the spirit to be with him and it's not weird.

But see...for me...it kind of is. Not that what they believe is weird, because it isn't. More that they might think what I believe is weird. They might judge me on the basis of my, um, non-religion. They might reject me for it.

They can ask these questions. They can ask them in job interviews and they can certainly ask them in an interview where someone wants to volunteer to work with people at the end of this earthly journey.

And these are questions I haven't prepped five years for. I know I'm strong enough to do this job. I know that I'd bring a lot to the people I would work with as they make their peace. I don't know if I can fully answer a "What do you believe" question....

I hope I can answer them. With truth for me and validity for them.

A Fall First

2009-09-21T13:07:00.000-07:00

I'm getting excited for Fall. I've always loved this season - the change in temperatures, the colors in nature, and the chance to pull out clothes from the closet that have been neglected for 1/2 a year.

As you know, if you know me at all, I'm a function over form kind of girl. I wear clothes that allow me to get down and play during the day..and if I look cute then it's a bonus. In short - I look like a stay-at-home-mom. Sometimes I don't mind...sometimes I do.

Now, I've never been into fashion. In fact, two weeks ago at a Girl's Night Out I won a copies of the latest Vogue and Marie Claire - I picked the stack because it came with Root Beer. I didn't even realize the magazines came with it and wasn't quite sure what to do with them. When someone asked - I readily traded them for a salad bowl and hot chocolate. Function.
Then I surprised myself. I bought a purple shirt. Two of them. Both from the clearance rack. I was thrilled for a little color in the line-up of my normal black, brown, white, and red collection.

And then I got a surprise. I look good in purple. And it's one of the Fall fashion colors - as I was told by the woman who traded her root beer for my fashion mags.

So today, for the very firsts time, I looked up the Pantone Fall 2009 Fashion Colors! Here they are in all their glory:

And do you know why I looked them up? To incorporate some into my wardrobe? To mix-match colors with my new purple shirt?

Oh please. I haven't changed that much. I'm going to used them in my digital design projects :) Function.

Now it's time to look up who these Pantone people are and why they get to pick the colors! What a job!

With great power...

2009-09-16T23:53:00.001-07:00

The other day I caught up with an old friend. When it was my turn to talk about the news in my life I found myself speaking mostly about my running and triathlon training. Lately that has died down a bit...though I'm working to pick it back up again.

When I finally finished my ten minute long exclamation about running she said "wow. This has been life changing hasn't it."

Yes.

I have no doubt in ten years when I look back at my life I will include this (along with the births of my children, my wedding, my college years, Will's Celiac diagnosis, and the death of my grandpa) as life-changing.

Here is why:

I find myself saying no to things I haven't had strength to before. Like Diet Coke. Like negative thoughts in my head. Like staying in grungy clothes all day.

I find myself saying yes to things I haven't had strength to do before. Like 5ks and triathlons. Like being in pictures. Like talking to strangers without worrying about how I look. Like volunteering at a hospital with people who are dying.

Finding a power I didn't think I have has helped me find power in everything else.

And it's not that I'm power hungry...it's something other than that. It's wanting to take this strength and spread it around.

It's dying to allow myself to live slow. To ride my bike more with the kids strapped in the back. To craft the things I want for the people I love. To spend time, not money.

It's wanting to be strong enough to say "no" to all the little purchases and paying off the god-awful debt so money can go further, later.

It's wanting to be brave enough to saying "yes" to my Mom's offer to join her in Kenya next year for a humanitarian project even though I know once I go there, I won't be able to turn back to life as I know it now.

It's easy...

2009-08-31T22:11:00.000-07:00

It's easy to look at what I don't have. Or what I could be. Or what I should be.

I injured my foot running last week. And it spurred up this tornado of emotions. Realizing that I'd have to take time off makes me think about how else to burn my calories which makes me think about the weight I have NOT lost, which makes me think of my clothes, which makes me think of the crappy running shoes I have, which makes me think.....

And yet, in the last few days as I've found myself drifting to that place little reminders (of how wonderful life is, of how much I do have, of what I am, and of who I'm striving to be) keep popping up.

It's always easy to be part of the tornado. To get swept up in the emotions and taken over by them.

So I'm stopping. I've planted my feet back firmly on the ground.

I'm grateful for that. For being able to stop

For reminders like THIS to stop. And reminders like THIS to keep going.

For days with just Walker. Playing cars on the carpet. Listening to his language, watching his hands. Oh, how he grows.

For evenings of solitude that occur without request.

For random YouTube videos that make me laugh or dance or both.

For cool tap water.

For realizing that I can walk or swim or bike even if I cannot run.

For new friends...something I have longed for and am finally allowing.

For me. In all my versions.

It is easy.

Wash, rinse, repeat...

2009-08-22T10:59:00.000-07:00

There are moments when the monotony of my life frustrates the hell out of me. I've hesitated to post this because, like most things when written, they feel either (a) more overwhelming or (b) not such a big deal. Or both. And this is both.

Rise early, by myself.
Empty dishwasher.
Work. Usually a self created project.
Internet. Facebook. Perez. Online banking. Blogs.
Drop off spouse (who is most likely running late).
Breakfast. For the kids, homemade. For me, in a cup.
Make the beds. Dishes.
Clothes. For the kids. Me, maybe.
Make lunch. Prep for school.
Clean up toys.
Drop one boy off at school.
Errands, tasks, maybe an "adventure" to the library, or Costco, or some other place I where I can turn an errand into an adventure. The whole time trying to placate the other boy who cannot be happy without a new toy, or chocolate milk, or something else that I seem to always refuse.
Eat lunch.
Wonder if I'm a slacker since I don't post on my blogs...
Pick up the first boy. Try to placate him now too as we pass places I won't stop daily.
Read stories. Try to be a good mom. Try to put the boys first.
Make dinner
Pick up the spouse.
Eat dinner. Mostly together.
Dishes.
Clean-up.
Homework
Baths.
Bedtime for boys.
Run for me. Run for the spouse.
Clean-up.
Tire.
Push myself to stay up doing things I think I should do (email) and things I want to do (The Daily Show).
Bed. Read two pages of an intriguing book.
Sleep.

Wake, stretch, repeat.

The truth is that my life is full of things I love. My spouse. My kids. Running. Reading. New friends. Movies in the park. Bike rides with kids.

And while no one day is exactly the same, there is so much that is true from day to day to day. Some days, it just grates.

Even now, I have a child glued to my side, asking for things, grabbing at my iPod, the computer. "Mom, feed me." "Mom, listen to me." "Mom, he's bugging me." "Mom I need three Band-Aids." Anything. Everything.

Notes on old.

2009-06-28T15:53:00.000-07:00

Old. It's my new four-letter word. Sure it's only got three letters, but if you say it in my direction you might as well be an f-bomb dropping sailor.

Here are the reasons why:

The Tipper and I

It was in the car when I was first confronted with my growing chronological marker. I was groovin' to KISS FM when a new song came on. Always in a quest for a good running tune I was drawn to it's beat and turned up the radio. I couldn't really hear all the lyrics so I made a note to myself to look it up on iTunes and listen before I bought. And then, the chorus came on. "Shush girl, shut your lips, do the Helen Keller and talk with your hips". Do they even know who Helen Keller was? Ugh - I am so offended by this song! And it's not the shut your lips use your hips part - I've listened to songs much worse than that and liked them. It's the "Do the Helen Keller" line. What? I mean really - what?And you see, herein lies the problem, I am offended by a pop song! What?

Age Spots

In one week I injured my knee, gained some water weight, plucked two gray hairs and got a rash. Maybe each of these, if separated by time, would not be a big deal. But together it was enough for me to both cry in the shower AND vow that no husband of mine will ever be changing my diaper. I'll have Dr. Death on my speed dial.

Senator Boxer*

The use of the word Ma'am in my direction is becoming a daily occurrence. If store really wanted to make a return buyer out of me they'd tell their staff to call anyone who looks less than 40 "Miss". (*click here if you don't get that reference - and yeah, don't get me started on that!)

3.0

On that same note, maybe I do look older than thirty. My cute Japanese brother told me yesterday, when he was told I was the big 3-0, said "You don't look 30" and for a moment I worried he'd say he thought I was older.

Tick, tock, THUMP, POUND:

My biological clock is pounding. Nope, not ticking. Pounding. Neither of my two children were created because my bio clock told me it was time. I wanted a baby - but there was no sudden URGE to have one. There were alternative factors at (or not at) work. But now I see babies everywhere, except with me. Everyone's having them, everyone's doin' it. They're the new fall accessory and my retail store is closed! Not to mention that in my youth making the decision to have a baby was as easy as flipping a coin. Whether or not it should have been this easy is another conversation. Now, as a wizened 30 year-old I cannot just say "because it feels right".

Five and Four:

Nothing makes you feel older than noting the age of your children. I'm sure my mother would agree. Will starts Kindergarten in one month. Kindergarten. Will. Me with a Kindergartner. 3rd grade, 6th grade, 12th grade - they'll all be here before I know it and I'll be sitting at this blog (if I remember my password then) crabbing about their age. Not to mention that my baby, my BABY will be four in two months. Four. It doesn't seem like much when I type it, but when I hold him and feel his oh-so-not-a-baby body, my heart sinks. It's going too fast.

Generation Gap Close:

Icons from my generation have started to die. I hate to say it, it's only gonna get worse. MJ dying was a real eye-opener for me this week and not just because of the reaction noted worldwide. Parts of my childhood are set to the tune of his genius. Parts of my ascension to adulthood are chronicled by his regression back to childhood. Thanks MJ, for the good, and the Bad.

There is no such thing...

2009-06-20T23:51:00.000-07:00

There is no such thing as a stupid question.

Oh wait. Yes there is. One.

"Are you pregnant?"

Actually most of the time it comes out as a statement, not a question. As in the one my neighbor made to me tonight as I was walking, totally exhausted, carrying a sleeping child, while wearing my bathing suit.

She said "Oh, so you're pregnant."

We stopped to talk about her move (to the apartment above us) and the curiousness that stems from a move. She stole a quick look at my belly and attempted to confirm her suspicion.

I guess my possible pregnancy has been the topic of conversation, along with my upcoming triathlon and whether or not I should do one while pregnant, between she and my other neighbor.

I like both of these ladies...but please. COME ON! I can think of so many other ways of figuring out if someone is pregnant or not without asking directly. Like: "So, you ever think of having more kids?" or "Two boys, wanna have another and see if you can get a girl?"

Or, just don't ask.

But, if you do. Do not, under any circumstances follow it up with the statement of "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it."

Yes you do. You mean I look pregnant. You mean that the six to nine miles a week I am running (not to mention the biking and swimming) aren't doing squat for the belly I acquired from two babies in two years, a year (or two) of less than stellar eating, and, let's face it, genetics. I already know that. Trust me, I already know it.

It's ok that you thought it. It's not ok that you asked it. Keep the stupid questions to yourself.

Tis a gift...

2009-06-08T22:23:00.000-07:00

Dear Shell,

The last few days a strange phenomenon has occurred. Life has been simple. You have chosen simplicity, and in doing so, sanity. That isn't to say that life hasn't been busy. It has. Wonderfully busy. Yet somehow you've managed to keep things simple and beautiful. So here's a reminder of some of the things you done, sometimes on accident, and loved:

When you start being overwhelmed, slow down. Take a few deep breaths. Start with one step instead of looking at the big picture.

Play with your kids. Each evening you've stopped the "work" to play. You do a good job of caring and educating them throughout the day - but you love to play. And they need to see you do it.

Be outside. It rained this week, and you played in it. You threw your normal caution to the wind - not to mention your fear of messes. The boys thought they'd won the jackpot to be outside IN the rain. It was such a simple pleasure.

Speaking of messes - they clean up rather fast. And the making of them often changes the mood of the entire family. Make more messes.

Put your nose into books more and less into the computer. You went TV free for a reason. Remember what image you want the boys to see of you, and what you don't.

Dinners can be simple. You've cooked each meal - even on the days when you wanted to just grab something. The truth is that the boys won't remember what they are fed as much as they remember that we all sat down together. And talked. And that mom was happy during dinner.

Nothing has to be big...it just has to be.

And lastly, you love to run. Yep, you do. Can you believe it? I cannot either...but it's true.

Love,

Breaking the wall

2009-06-04T09:51:00.000-07:00

When I first started running, now almost six months ago, I never thought I could make it around the block.

There is this street, just about 1/2 mile from us, where I used to run to and then run back. I remember so vividly thinking "Shell, you just have to make it to Franklin." My heart would be racing, my mind a whirl of positive thought trying to push through negative energy. I'd hit Franklin, feeling as though death was near. Flipping back around I do it all over again just to make it home. Some nights I'd get home and cry. Cry because my legs hurt. Cry because my pride hurt. Cry because I was so ashamed of my body. Cry because I never thought I'd make it past Franklin.

Last Saturday our TRI group got together. We did a practice triathlon. Yep, you read that right. We wanted to see if we "got it". Annie is about to start a busy summer - including our July 18th TRI date. Autumn is getting ready to move for the summer (still close enough!). And I just wanted to see if I could do it.

We met at a local university where they have free open lane swim. We did our swim, bike and run all from that central location. It hurt. It was hard. We had to choose the hardest 5k course in the entire state to run! But it was doable. In fact, I did it. It took us 2.5 hours which isn't bad especially considering that our transition time was much longer than it will be on race day (we had to walk to our cars, put our bikes together, etc).

Fast forward to this morning. I've got my workout schedule posted up in my kitchen (with my food journal) as a reminder of what I should be doing each day. Today was a 5/2 for me. Five miles on the bike and 2 miles of run. The transition between the bike and the run is the hardest for me and the one that gives me the most nightmares. I loaded up the kids and bike. Dropped the boys off at preschool and unloaded my bike. I've planned out a route right by their school that allows me to drop them off, bike, run, and get home to shower in time to head back and pick them up. It's lovely. It's easy (not the route, but the routine) and it's practical.

As I ran back to the car today I realized something. I've broken through the wall. Not the wall of physical pain - that still exists and I still have to really push myself. But the confidence wall. And I cried. Cried because I am no longer ashamed of my body. It's doing some amazing things for me. Cried because I finished the run and thought, gosh I could go farther. Cried because I am doing something I never EVER thought I could do.

This, my friends, is huge.

Click, tick, whir.

2009-05-08T19:54:00.000-07:00

Right now I can hear three things.

The tick of the clock. Irregular because it needs new batteries.

The whir of the fan above me.

And the click of my fingers on the keyboard.

The boys, all three of mine, are biking to the store to get ice cream for a late night snack.

We spent two hours in the pool this afternoon. The heat had gotten to a temperature where moods, mine especially, were effected. And it's only May.

The boys, minus E, were thrilled to splash around. Their love of swimming came back almost immediately after going in for the first time last week. And since that first time we've been back in every day. And here it is, Friday. A whole week has whirred past.

Dinner was spent on the back porch. Or slab. Whatever you want to call it. I bought a table cloth and some cute summery plates. A first for our family to have summerware - and our first time eating out on the slab. Both boys spent most of the time worrying about the flies and when a grasshopper showed up on the wall their focus turned quickly from steak to insect.

Tonight, with them gone, I've allowed myself time of quiet. This is unusual for me because I tend to crave noise. I'll turn on NPR, iTunes, or even a movie just to fill the void. And it's because, like on nights like this, the tick of the clock and the whir of the fan remind me of how fast time is passing.

If I don't hear it I don't have to think about it. If I don't stop and stand still, I won't see it moving past me. Faster than me.

The summer will go by fast. I stared at my calendar last night and realized what fun we have planned. Fun means fast. Nights like this will come and go. Soon, W1 will be in Kindergarten and nights like this will be harder to find.

And I know that I will miss this. That even on the days where I'm ready to be done with my children, I still know I will miss this. Terribly.

Ah. Too much silence. I'm wishing them back from the store already.

A Wild Safari

2009-04-27T14:51:00.000-07:00

Last night, after a particularly long weekend, I decided to grab my current read and climb into the bathtub.

I pulled all the toys out of the tub, turned on the water, and crawled in.

About two pages into my book I stopped and looked around. I was surrounded. It was a wild safari in the bathroom.

The giraffe told me that my best friend is quite tall, and hot. I told him to back off.

The hippo told me to stop being a stick in the mud. He wouldn't tell me what about.

The rhino reminded me to pay bills. Or the alligator would come after me.

And the whale commented on how she'd like to be my size. It's all relative I told her.

It took me a while to realize that I was imagining things - whales don't belong in the safari!

Not Mr. Darcy

2009-04-13T20:52:00.000-07:00

My literary life has had a good start this year. So far I've read about thirty books. And that is NOT counting the many books I read each night at the end of the evening to the cute, clean children snug in their beds.

One book has sat on my bookshelf for years, begging to be read. I've resisted for years. Mostly because it is considered one of the (if not the) ultimate chick books of all time.

Pride & Prejudice

So for the record. I've read it. Rather I savored it. Having known the characters all these years it was like spending a week at a spa with each of them, getting to know them all better and understanding all the missing pieces much more.

And for the record, the reason I love it so much is not Mr. Darcy. It's Elizabeth Bennett. Mr. Darcy is swell and his character is fascinating...and blah, blah, blah.

For me the real romance was falling in love with Elizabeth through the pages. Identifying so much with her character, the personal journey she goes through, and the harsh realizations she faces of family, self, and love.

I'm inclined to believe that most women who read this novel fall more in love with Elizabeth than Mr. Darcy. Which in unfortunate for all those men, including my own husband, who believe their wives to be smitten with Mr. Darcy.

Now that the record is straight, where I'm concerned at least, I must continue in the improvement of my mind by more extensive reading. Good thing the library has three books on hold for me now!

Psychology of a Run

2009-04-13T20:23:00.001-07:00

There is a reason I wear headphones. I know when I've run in groups of people that sometimes the others have wondered why, when good conversation is to be had, I've got headphones in.

Let me explain why. My constant running partner is the evil genius who lives in my head, Shelina. No, I'm don't have MPD. I'm not schizophrenic.

Shelina is this figment of my imagination - this part of me, embodied by a woman, who holds insane power over me. She gets to hear all of my innermost workings. And she uses it to her advantage.

Shelina came into my life as I was leaving the work place. Unsure of my role as a mother and feeling the great loss (albeit by choice) of my identity of a career woman she slowly crept in with her self-consciousness, doubt, and insecurity. Since then she has ruled supreme.

So, if I run without my earphones Shelina's language of self-doubt fills my mind and every few steps, especially when push comes to shove, Shelina steps in ready to fill the void with notions of failure.

Slowly but surely I am learning not to listen to her. Slowly.

In the meantime my music makes beats my body cannot ignore. Kanye urges me to push it harder, faster, and become stronger. When Lady Gaga shouts out to use my muscle carve it out, work it hustle - well, that's what I do. Robbie, Cascadia and even Miley Cyrus provide such solid beats that my feet cannot help but pick themselves up. On top of that I round every corner thinking "What if ____ is standing there?" I imagine someone from my TRI group, or E and the kids, or Amy and Sarah (my running missionaries) standing there cheering.

And with each step the old Shelly returns. And Shelina is fading in the dust of my confidence. I even have moments where I am not sad about where I am now, what I look like now. Rather I'm proud of where I am at. And these are significant wins in the battle in myself.

(PS - I hit mile 100 for the year! Suck on that Shelina!)

The Haunting

2009-03-15T08:51:00.000-07:00

The boys are at the grandparents.

E is in New York.

And I am here at the house relaxing and rejuvenating.

Or at least I am supposed to be.

My big goal was to get a good night of sleep. And I'm not sure why that is eluding me so skillfully.

I mean, I did ride ten miles on my bike and run a 5k yesterday. I thought for sure my body would knock me out.

Instead I woke up at 4:00am, as usual.

I did go back to sleep but was haunted in dreams by ghosts of people past. Not people who have passed. Rather people in my past.

Oh. I am tired of this. I am tired of being haunted by people and situations I cannot control.

The friends I am no longer close to.

The friends and family I cannot please.

Outside of the dreams I am torn between letting go of situations or continuing to try. The thing is, I am tired of being the only one who tries. And being blamed either way.

I don't know how to rid myself of these conflicting emotions...and the guilt.

I need an exorcism.

Flip-Floptimism

2009-03-10T09:17:00.000-07:00

I've always considered myself a realist. That glass everyone is talking about - well for me it's neither 1/2 full or 1/2 empty. It's just there. Sitting on the counter. Needing to be put away or finished. And most likely it needs a coaster.

Then this morning, as I was walking back to my car, shivering, I realized something.

I'm much more of an optimist than previously believed to be.

See, every morning I put on a t-shirt and my favorite, old flip-flops and head out the door. No sweater. No good shoes. Definitely no socks.

Always hopeful that the day is going to be warm enough and bright enough to fill my flip-flop wishes. Always optimistic.

And even when it's just a little too cold - like it was this morning - I still don't change my shoes.

Episodic

2009-03-08T18:17:00.001-07:00

The last couple of days I've delved deep into my drawer of movies to the TV show section. For most of our marriage E and I have been TV free - which in our case means we own a TV but do not have it hooked up via any cable to any broadcasting. We agreed to do this early in our marriage after, in our first apartment, we had cable (including HBO) for several months. We learned that we are both easily addicted to TV. Because of that we've turned to TV-on-DVD for any shows we hear are hits. Our old library, in the downtown of a relatively urban city, had a plethora of TV shows on DVDs...so we really lucked out.

Unlike the library our personal collection of movies - although supple - has gotten old. On top of that I've been working on a bunch of projects lately and have found myself drawn to old (old is relative) TV shows we do have. It's nice, for me, to have some noise on while I'm working on things and This American Life or my latest playlist don't always cut it.

Anyway. The show I've been watching of late is my old seasons of Friends. I'm not particularly proud to admit this. At one point in my life I adored this show. Sitting in my apartment with Leslie and the-blond-Shelly, wondering if Ross was going to kiss Rachel this time. Feeling so giddy when they got together. Wondering why no one ever got Chandler. At this point I find the humor a little too middlebrow, the laugh track obnoxious, and the whole duck/chick/monkey thing absurd. I think our latest TV-on-DVD show, HIMYM*, has raised the bar a bit. As have life experiences.

Still, I watch it. And for one really good reason. It's episodic. You can watch one episode and then watch another from another season without a lot of work. The whole episode is so appealing to me. See, in Friends each "friend" gets an episode, or episodes. One show might be about Ross or Ross and Rachel. Another about Phoebe and her insane singing. Another about Chandler and the mess of women he dates. Or Monica and the many way she's cleans (though I do love that). You get my point. It rotates.

Things also end. In Friends there are times when pivotal plot issues arise in one episode, maybe carry over for two or three other episodes. MAYBE. But more likely than not they serve their purpose in an episode and disappear. Sometimes it even seems a little odd that the event or storyline was so quickly dealt with.

It's a nice break from life. Life doesn't feel that way for me right now. Right now it feels centered on a few specific characters and their trials, errors, adventures, and lives.

This is my own problem - and quite frankly my own creation. I don't have any other screenwriters - although E does get some editing rights. Again, by my choice. And I'm working on it. But it just seems so big sometimes. Like I really am not writing my script anymore. Or rather that the plot lines I wrote so long ago, that I thought would disappear in an episode or two, are not. And I feel lost in the plot line.

(*PS- given that HIMYM only has three seasons on DVD no one spill any spoiler beans here!)

Gained

2009-03-05T22:40:00.000-08:00

Usually a gain isn't something we talk much of. Unless you're pregnant. Or on a wrestling team.

But tonight I gained. 1/2 mile.

Turns out that route I've been running for the last two weeks isn't 3.0 miles. It's 3.4-3.5.

Yeah baby.

Sideways laugh...

2009-03-05T12:00:00.001-08:00

For some reason learning that Mr. Duggar's first name is Jim Bob has made me smile all day. Could it have been anything but that?

Eyebeams

2009-03-03T08:24:00.000-08:00

In church on Sunday we discussed the concept of paying it forward. It's a premise of life I've always believed in but haven't always practiced well. Especially because I do little acts of, usually, random kindness rather that large acts of selflessness.

One thing that really stuck with me, particularly at this time in life, was a quote from Ralph Waldo Emerson collection of essays:

"Read the language of those wandering eye-beams. The heart knoweth."

I have struggled making friends since our move from Zion. I've wondered what I've done wrong, am I not dressed right, or why people don't seem to notice me. It has become such a self-involved activity - without really meaning to be one.

Hearing this reminded me that I see plenty of wandering eye-beams, people who look at me and maybe hope that I'll talk to them, but I remain so focused on hoping someone will talk to me that I see past it. And yet, my heart knows.

This week I'm going to try looking at people's eyes, meeting their gaze, and starting the conversations. Maybe this will provide what both of us are looking for...

Ch-ch-ch-changes

2009-02-27T09:27:00.000-08:00

This morning I was banned by a friend on Facecrack. Yep, I went to view their page and everytime I clicked their name it took me right back to my own page. Banned. Blocked. Denied.

So it got me thinking. Of course I thought about why I might have been BBD'd - but mostly it got me thinking about the internet and my use of it.

Right now I have 200 friends on FB - a place where I share quite a bit of detail about my life, including photos, and I'm not always sure who sees it. I've changed privacy settings and have started limiting who I accept as a "friend".

And yet I love FB. I love the ease at which I can stay connected with people...particularly people I might not be able to connect with otherwise. I love being able to hop on, tell someone something, and then hop off. Our triathlon group has a page where it makes communicating between four busy people relatively easy.

It is just difficult to put your finger on what technology does and what you want it to do for you.

This site started off as a sort of journal. And then as more people started reading it I became more selective in my sharing. At the same time, when I did share I craved responses and didn't always get it. It has become this strange thing of relating feelings, thoughts and emotions for their own sake - and relating information for discussion or response. These two aren't always complimentary.

So, I'm revamping a little. I took the blog off my "displayed blogs list" so that when I comment on others' blogs they are directed to our family blog. Sometimes I think people come here, knowing bits and pieces of me, and are a little overwhelmed by the things I say. Or maybe not.

I also took off the blog roll. We still have this on our family site but I did not feel it was necessary here. I'm reverting back to journaling on here.

If you're reading this now - you are most welcome to stay my reader. I hope you do. And I always appreciate comments but don't need them. If you do read something that provokes you, you are always welcome to call me. I miss the phone calls. Blogs and forums and FB have all started replacing snail mail and the telephone - not to mention even email.

And yes, I finally updated the site so that the display looks better. Oh, I could spend ample time picking out blog designs. What joy.

Ugh

2009-02-09T21:17:00.001-08:00

I just noticed that my blog background was removed - so I found it again and re-uploaded it. However it doesn't quite work - so a facelift is in order. It does make reading my posts a bit difficult - and I apologize.

I'll change it as soon as I can. Please bear with me.

I am putty.

2009-02-09T20:08:00.000-08:00

Tonight as I was cleaning the house I started running through my massive collection of This American Life episodes. If I was ever to have enough passion about a product to go door-to-door it would be this one. I'd be a missionary or a salesperson for This American Life. If you haven't listened to it already - you must. See below for my recommended episodes.

As my iPod worked it's way down the list, starting with A Little Bit of Knowledge and headed towards Your Dream, My Nightmare I stumbled across one of the treasures. Apology. An entire episode devoted to apologies. And in this treasure I found a nugget of truth for myself.

One of the acts of the episode is David Sedaris reading from his book, Dress Your Children in Corduroy and Denim. I've listened to this episode before - maybe even a few times on drives and such. But tonight I heard him say something, while talking about his sister Lisa, that feels true of me. (I'm using my dictaphone skills here and typing while he's talking - this material is all his!)

College hadn't quite worked out the way she'd expected, and after two years in Virginia she'd returned to Raleigh and taken a job at a wineshop. It was a normal enough life for a twenty-on-year-old, but being a dropout was not what she had planned for herself. Worse than that, i had not been planned for her. As children, we'd been assigned certain roles- leader, bum, troublemaker, slut - titles that effectively told us who we were. Since Lisa was the oldest, smartest, and bossiest, it was assumed that she would shoot to the top of her field, earning a master's degree in manipulation and eventually taking over a medium-sized country. We'd always know her as an authority figure, and while we took a certain joy in watching her fall, it was disorienting to see her with so little confidence. Suddenly she was relying on other's opinions, following their advice, and withering at the slightest criticism. "Do you really think? Really?" She was putty.

It's frightening to hear it stated, so clearly, from the voice of a stranger. As if he'd called my siblings, cousins, family and friends and then read it outloud on stage.

I don't like it - but it's true of me. My prescripted life plan veered off the path a while ago. While there are parts of my now that I love and cherish, I know I look at where I am versus where I thought I would be with disappointment, angst, and anger.

Somewhere I lost that umph I once had. Kind of like Stella and her groove. And I'm just trying to get it back.

For more This American Life brilliance - check your local NPR stations for schedules or subscribe to their weekly podcast. You'll discover some jewels. Or check out these episodes for purchase either at their website or on iTunes.

#304 Heretics

# 179 Cicero, IL

#270 Family Legends (Act Two is AMAZING!)

Switched at Birth (I listen to this one every month. I still cannot get over it.)

#352 The Ghost of Bobby Dunbar

#61 Fiasco

#241 20 Acts in 60 Minutes

#373 The New Boss

#38 Simulated Worlds (hilarious!)

(I better stop here - I could just keep going, and going...)

Do you feel like you can listen to one within the next week? Can I call you and follow-up?

Keep on keeping on...

2009-02-05T06:43:00.001-08:00

I've been waking up far too early. Again.

This is a pattern that emerged for me a few months ago and then disappeared. Or so I thought.

4:00am. That's when the call to arms goes off in my head.

Actually it's more like this:

At 2:00am I wake up. Stretch my legs and roll back over. Fall into a deep enough sleep to get some funky dream going. This morning's was about being at Coachella. Each night my dream reaches some critical, dramatic stage at which point I open my eyes, still dazed and confused, but alert. I look at the clock. Maybe it says 4:00. Maybe 4:15. Maybe even 3:45. I try in vain for 20-30 minutes and then realize that sleep is not going to come.

I try my old standby - a book in bed. Nope.

I try listening to and following E's deep, rhythmic breathing. Nope.

I get out of bed. Check on the boys (assuming they aren't already in my bed). Move to the couch or the kitchen table. I'm up. I might as well be up.

And then slowly but surely the thoughts that were steering my dreams start clarifying themselves. Soon my heart is racing. My mind is filled with thoughts, ideas and problems.

Being a problem-solving type I begin to try and solve things in my mind. But I forget one thing.

I am tired.

The tired doesn't help me try to clarify or solve anything. In fact the best advice I got from those silly little games they play at wedding shower was "Give yourself permission to go to bed when you're angry. Staying up will only play tricks with your emotion and mind. Things will look clear and be solved better in the morning." (thanks Aunt N!). That is the same for dealing with my own world issues.

So in an effort to both cleanse my mind and put things in a place to deal with later, here are the things I'm thinking about, trying to solve, worrying about, etc.

* Running. I am supposed to run but my legs are still incredibly sore (and unbelievably warm) and I'm not sure I can get my mind in a place to make my body do it. *

* Elementary schools. Finding a place that I can trust with both his mind and his mouth is a new challenge. *

* The economy. Particularly the job market here in this area. *

* Her. She knows who she is. *

* The other her. And her entire family. Or most of them at least. *

* Asia. Canada. And the relationship between them and our family. *

* a 5k. Feeling totally unprepared mentally or physically for it.

* Vegetables. How do I get them in him without a battle? How do I get him to eat anything but cheese and carbs?

* Yes job. No job. Day job? Night job? Anything I can get job? *

* Charter school. Le Grand Elementary. Homeschool. My Mom's school. *

* Family vacation. Why did I volunteer to plan this? Am I taking too much charge or not enough? *

* Menu for Valentine's lunch. *

* My thoughts. I worry about whether I worry too much or too little about things. Yes, I did just say this. *

* Running a damn race. What was I thinking? *

* Bills, checks, money in, money out. Money to come. Where should it go? *

Well that feels better. So much better that my eyelids are heavy.

Oh wait...I hear the stirring of little bodies. Soon it will be time for breakfast. At least that isn't on my list!

To celebrate

2009-01-30T20:09:00.000-08:00

Things to celebrate this week:

An amazing evening with a friend. Hours went by and more hours could easily have passed. No subject left untouched.

Watching both of my children discover the power of holding and writing with a pen.

Breaking down boundaries between cousins. I love them and am not always sure how to say it.

Chinese New Year.

Time with the BFF and her two kids. More time than we've had in a long time - and still not long enough. Falling in love with both her kids.

Hitting mile 40 of my running. One month, forty miles. Awesomeness.

Having my first portrait done by my son. Loving childhood perspective.

Running away

2009-01-27T20:18:00.000-08:00

Tonight was one of those nights.

Not with the kids. Not with E. Just in my head. One of those nights.

I found myself already crying as I tied up the laces to my shoes. Knowing that I need to run in order to run away.

I wish I could say that my total motivation for running and for doing the 5k was myself. Better health, better shape, better lung capacity...

Tonight though the other reasons reared their ugly heads and propelled me out the door and through the streets of our town.

Mostly I ran away from her. She is haunting me and there are days when I cannot bear it. My guilt over walking away. The responsibility I feel for making sure she's ok. The disappointment I feel in myself for not being over the pain and strain of that friendship.

I ran hoping that I could run away from all that. That each step I took might shake off some of this emotional weight.

I don't know how to move past this. I don't know how to not feel guilty that I should be more - could be more.

But I'm trying. With each foot and mile I run I'm trying.

On the outside

2009-01-13T18:00:00.000-08:00

I wonder.

Does he approach the door on nights like this and, upon hearing the noise inside, pause with his hand on the knob?

Does he know how tired I am and, being tired too, want to turn and walk away?

Does he here their cries and want to help? Or turn away?

Or is he like me - does he pause, take a deep breath and move inside?

On better nights does he quicken his step in anticipation of the meal I've cooked, the boys who will scream his name, and the fun we'll have?

Does he hear our giggles from the outside and long to be with us?

I wonder what I'd be like, if I were the one coming home. How, after a long day with tall orders from the bosses and a depressing economy, I'd feel coming home to a sick wife, healing children, and an empty table.

From the outside would I pause at the knob, filled with mixed emotions about walking inside. Knowing my day ended just for it to begin again.

Would I skip home eager to meet the faces that greet me - or would I turn and walk away?

Kickoff!

2009-01-01T07:31:00.000-08:00

I love New Year's. The reflection on the year past. Counting down till midnight.

But the whole resolution thing and I have mixed feelings about each other. I often start the year out, journal in hand, attempting to fix all the problems of the last year in tidy resolutions for the new. Sure I can loose all the weight, exercise every day, always have a clean house, never yell at the kids, continue to work on good communication with E, always write thank you cards, blog twice a week, start forgiving myself for past mistakes, make new friends, keep the old...etc.

And within two weeks of writing my resolutions I feel overwhelmed. If I stop meeting my own expectations I start feeling guilty. The guilt leads to disappointed and then I spend much too much time feeling disappointed with myself - which then I decide to resolve at the next New Year.

So this year I'm doing it differently. I started working on things I want to resolve months ago. Actually I've been working on resolving things as I've noticed their appearance in my life. And thus far, no feelings of overwhelm. No anxiety.

Except....I started to feel anxious about not having any real New Year's resolutions. Should I make at least one? Which one should I pick? What if it leads to others? What should I do with those?

Oh lordie. I just can't keep up with myself sometimes.

So I back off thinking about it. While in San Diego I starting noticing all the people walking around wearing green and yellow. Cars drove by us with decorated windows. A few people even had their faces painted. Sports fans! There for the something-bowl between Oregon and someone.

And it hit me. For one year I am going to be a sports fan. I know nothing about sports - only briefly cheered my Utes on when I was in school there. E loves sports but does relatively little about them since (a) we don't watch tv and (b) I don't watch sports.

It will be fun. It will be new. It will give E and I another reason to be hanging out together. And since seasons start all through the year I can balance the resolution out.

I have no idea how I'll pick a team but once I do, here are my rules:

(1) Choose one team from the following sport genres: basketball, football, baseball, and either soccer or hockey.

(1) I cannot pick a team who won a championship last year unless it's a local team*.

(2) I must read about each sport, learning the language and rules before each season begins.

(3) I must watch at least four games for each team in each regular season.

(4) At least one of the five games must be watched at a sports bar with rowdy fans.

(5) At least one of the games I have to have my face painted.

(6) I must drive a distance to attend one game. If it's not for one of my teams then I must assume the position of fan for one of the teams playing.

(7) If chosen team enters the playoffs, I must watch each game they play in.

E seems to think if I'm to immerse myself into the sporting world that I must also join a fantasy sports league. I told him that I'm not trying to be a sports fan AND a nerd.

Since basketball already started and it's season is so short in the year if I wait till it starts up again, I'm going to pick a team already in progress.

So sure, there are other resolutions kind of wrapped up in this. I can't help it.

But mostly, I'll have fun.

Perky

2008-12-31T08:09:00.000-08:00

Last night we returned from a quick family trip to San Diego. Oh it was magical and stress-free. And casual. For someone like me who moves at a breakneck pace (except when running) it was glorious to have ideas rather than an agenda.

The whole trip reminded me of some of the financial perks that we get through E's job that don't come in cold-hard-cash. No IRS reportable illegal offenses or anything - but things we did not realize at the onset. Company brand shirts which makes his paying for his wardrobe cheap. Trips around the continent that stimulate his mind and serve to remind me of the wonderful presence in our life. Company dinners which give us a reasons to dress and eat well. Seven days of paid "holiday" time which started last week.

The most relevant example, given the post, are the hotel points that he accumulated this year with all his travel. We walked into this gorgeous Marriott hotel and as I opened the door I realized that when my boys think of hotels this is what they know. We stayed as a family, when I was growing up, in Motel 6. Nothing wrong with Motel 6 - in fact we (my family of origin) considered it such a treat to stay in a motel that it didn't matter what it was. Plus we lived on a shoestring budget and for us, having the adventure, was more important than where we stayed in order to have it. My parents provided us with a ton of adventure for minor cost.

I'm not saying this to appear a braggart. It's just that, given our (granted, self-created) situation it is easy for me to find disappointment in things. Both E and I thought we would be at a different place at this time in our lives. Mostly I feel so secure in where I am and so aware of how I got here, how far we've come, the lessons we've learned and are learning, and what I am doing differently. But there are moments when that all fades away and the disappointment is evident.

So it's wonderful to pack up our bags, on our own shoestring budget, and set off for adventure.

What a perk.

I'll be..

2008-12-31T08:02:00.000-08:00

Random bit of Shelly here.

On someone's blog today I found myself typing the following sentence:

"I'll be excited to try your Photoshop tips on some of my snaps."

I do this all the time. I delegate an emotion to be had at some later time.

I'm either in the emotion or not, right? I'm either excited at the moments or not.

"I'll be waiting" makes sense. It says that at some point, hopefully determined in the next sentence, I will be doing something concrete. But that at some point I'll be excited....hum.

Strange habit.

Small bites

2008-12-28T17:57:00.000-08:00

Last month my cute cousin Ann approached me about doing a triathlon. Actually, I overheard her talking about it with her in-laws and butted in.

They are planning to do the Castaic Lake Annual Triathlon. It's a sprint-triathlon. Which until a week ago meant nothing to me. Now it means 3 miles of running, 1/4 mile of swimming, and 10 miles of biking.

And I found myself suddenly compelled to join in. Maybe it was the Ya-Ya-Sisterhood-ish moment they were all having. Maybe it's the fact that I spent several hours in a gym and running outdoors suddenly sounded freeing. Maybe it was all the sugar from the cookies I'd eaten that day.

And this is what I decided...

To do a 5k! Honestly, I'm not sure I can see myself doing a triathlon. But I'm working on it. Because I'd like to say at 31 (which is how old I'll be by the date of the event) that I did it. And not wait until I'm 50, or never, to do it.

I start training tomorrow. My friend Autumn and I are doing some of the training together. And Eric will join me in some of it as well. But most of the training will go on in my head. So I could use your support.

You can track my progress here - but also by talking with me. It will be a great motivator.

Anyone else in?

Thank you.

2008-12-23T08:57:00.001-08:00

This morning I feel very aware of things in my life that are not as they should be. I'd like to shift my perspective. One of the best ways I know to do that is to take a moment and be grateful. Here are a few (random) things I am grateful for this morning:

* Footsie pajamas and space heaters for keeping my children warm

* Care packages - particularly those with gluten-free flours for me to dabble with

* twenty-plus years with a friend who continually surprises me

* a laundry room where I can get all my laundry done at once

* a little boy who smothers me with hugs and kisses and calls me Mama

* a little boy who stares deeply into my eyes and fills my soul with hope

* enough food and clothes and money in a time where each is precious

* a husband who is 100% invested in us, in me, and in the kids.

* my planner and it's pull out pages and large writing spaces

* Instant Breakfast

* the chance to search for my inner peace without persecution

* reminder emails from the library

* a sister who would take a five-hour train ride just to have time with me

* and so much more...

My Winter's Solace

2008-12-22T22:48:00.000-08:00

I've never been a fan of death. Who is really? Maybe a funeral director. Maybe.

Last year when my Grandpa died it was the first time I'd lost anyone with a place in my heart. Even now, in my lowest moments, I can sob uncontrollably over the loss I feel. Sometimes I even pre-grieve. This strange mix of anxiety and grief which erupts when I spend too much time watching the news or reading about death (particularly children).

It is safe to say that I hate death. Or at least I did.

The same could be true of winter. I've never really understood winter. I blame winter for my cold feet and my unshaven legs. Sometimes I get so overwhelmed with the cold and the gray that I cannot see past either to what might be beautiful in winter.

It is safe to say that I hate winter. Or at least I did.

That is, until Sunday.

Let me digress for a moment to say that it is going to become fairly obvious, to those who do not know already, that I am not talking about the church of my birth. Many of you already know that I was born into the LDS (Mormon) faith. Some of you already know that I have not been participating as a member of the LDS church for some time. A couple of you understand where my journey started and how I got where I am. For a while I was not attending any religious service. I found, however, that I missed my organized spiritual time and wasn't finding time for it without help. After some investigating I have rested at the Unitarian Universalist community. Here I can explore my spirituality and religion without feeling obligated to agree to anything. This change is something I want to talk about - and am happy to talk about - but not in this post. Feel free to ask me about it via phone or email. I will take the time to share that story with the blog world at some point...soon.

Back to Sunday. Our local UU church invited it's Pagan members to perform the service and celebrate the Winter's Solstice.

If you know anything about my Mom you know that she's an earth-loving, women's rights pursuing, Jesus-loving Mormon. (That's my simplistic description of her - not hers) We grew up in a home where spirit was celebrated both on Sunday but also in every natural experience we had. We welcomed the Christmas season with stories from the Bible and then celebrated the New Year by meditating on the year past and lightening a candle signifying our hopes for the next. We did Earth Mother card readings at camping and sang chants when we released found animals back into nature. So stepping into the Pagan world isn't that hard to do.

The CUUPS group performed a play/vignette/ritual to celebrate the Winter's Solstice. We have, in our family, long celebrated the Summer's Solstice. Summer has always been easy to celebrate. It's the season of my birth, the season of my sunflower. It's warm and comforting.

On Sunday I found myself being challenged to better understand the season of Winter and the life season of death. To bring myself to understand the entire cycle. To realize that the Summer I love so much, the celebration of birth that I love so much, is all predicated on the previous season ending.

There were so many things I loved about the service:

* Having a moment to reflect on what my ancestors of long ago lived like and celebrated. No one knows how to celebrate the return of the sun like the Swedish. They seem to understand and appreciate what the Winter is about.

* Watching each person, as a season, physically turn to the next to welcome it in and pass on the light.

* Being asked 'Did you think it would last forever' as each season bid farewell.

* And I loved what each Season said about itself. I've put it here, but you can read the entire ritual text HERE:

EAST GUARDIAN: I am the East, the place of dawn, ruled by the element of Air. I am
The breath of Life, gifter of thought, speech and song. I watch over all the winged ones. I am the season of Spring, the season of birth and new creation.

Can you remember the Spring? Life surged forth in buds and sprouts. The trees
dress their branches in new leaves as the sap rises to rouse them from sleep.
The birds returned from the realms of the South to raise their children. New life comes forth and multiplies. The Earth leans towards the Sun as she greens and blossoms. Each day the young Sun rises in the East and each day grows stronger. Each day the time of light lasts longer. Did you think it would last forever? The Wheel Turns!

SOUTH GUARDIAN: I am the South, the place of midday, ruled by the element of Fire.
I am the passion and laughter of life. Guardian of all that walks and crawls on
the Earth. I hold the gift of fertile Earth from which your crops come forth. I am
the blessing of children, the keeper of truth and innocence. I am the season of
Summer.

Can you remember the Summer? The fruit was set upon the Vines and the
branches of the trees. The herds fatten on the thick grass of the upper pastures.
Young animals scamper and play under the watchful eyes of the older animals.
The young birds learn to fly. Your own children take shade under the glorious
leaf canopy of the trees. The Earth leans nearest the sun, radiant in her beauty.
The Sun, strong and hot, is at the peak of his power. And the light exceeds the
darkness. Did you think it would last forever? The Wheel turns!

WEST GUARDIAN: I am the West, place of dusk, ruled by the Element of Water. I am
the keeper of life-giving water, from the oceans depths to the waters of the
womb that rocked you before your birth. I am the sweet rain satisfying the thirsty
Earth and keeper of all that swims and lives in water. I am the place of all that
lies below the surface, of intuition and dreams. And I am the season of Fall and
the time of Harvest. Can you remember the Fall?

Do you remember the backbreaking labor of harvesting the grains and fruits and
vegetables. The vines and trees were heavy with their bounty. Now the young
animals take their places beside the elders and begin the great migrations to
the Realms of the South and the pastures of the lowland.

The trees transform from deep green into glorious gold, orange and red, - their
true colors shine forth before they drop their finery, leaf by leaf to the ground.
Your own children must be dressed against the morning and evening chill and
you labor to make ready for the coming darkness. The Earth stands apart from
the Sun who grows cooler and the light begins to die. Did you think it would last
forever? The Wheel turns!

NORTH GUARDIAN: I am the North, the place of midnight, ruled by the element
of Earth. I am the place of the ancestors and ancient wisdom, of all that has
walked the wheel through millennia and knows the way. I rule the time of
Winter. Now the time of Darkness is upon us- a time of cold and scarcity when
the northern-most Earth leans farthest from the Sun. Now the Sun gives brief light
and little warmth. The life that was lies shattered and still - retreated like refugees
in the migration of herds, the flight of the flocks. The trees stand stripped and
naked, their once glorious leaves and fruits lie rotting at their feet. Now their
branches are imprisoned in ice, bent and broken by storms. In the time of
suffering and hardship you learn what is essential. In the time, of cold and dark,
death seems to triumph. Did you think it would last forever? The Wheel turns!

It Rings True

2008-12-18T22:36:00.000-08:00

My phone seems to be my arch nemesis right now.

It rings. And when it does the voice that fills the other line is full of information. No questions, no conversation. "Let me tell you about me", it says.

Or it doesn't ring. The calls I hope for never appear. The news unshared. Conversations die before having a chance to live.

I'm not sure which one I like the least...

Let's get things started...

2008-12-04T06:35:00.000-08:00

I needed a quick and simple way to get things started on my blog again. As we've been exploring our new community I've been less and less inclined to get on here. And I miss it.

So let's start simple: a top-ten list.

Top Ten In-Home Items that Bring My Life Joy

1. my label maker

2. my bathtub

3. the paper shredder

4. my bread maker (has completely changed my feelings on gluten-free bread)

5. my Adobe Classroom-in-a-Book books (thanks Ali!)

6. my Pampered Chef hand-held food chopper

7. the oil burning tealight thing

8. tweezers

9. my Instant Breakfast cup (I have a cup that is dedicated to my morning IB)

10. my body pillow

What are some of yours?

Fatigue

2008-11-25T06:44:00.001-08:00

I think I have moved past tired.

Past exhaustion.

And now, I'm fatigued. Body slowing, mind-aching, soul-grating fatigue.

This is the eighth night in a row of me waking up between 3:00am and 5:00am. The last few days it's been getting earlier.

4:15am.

3:30am.

Even 2:45 yesterday.

Last night I forced myself to stay up until 10:30. I sound like an old lady.

I'm not sure what's waking me up. Part of me wants to set an alarm and see if maybe the sprinklers turn on or off, or a train is sounding in the distance (like the one right now).

I know what keeps me up though. Once my mind gets powered it's a fantastically moving machine jumping from one thought to the next, pulling up worry after worry, and reminding me of to-do lists that still need boxes checked.

Yuck.

Part of me is always glad to be up before the rest of the fam (or in this case, the rest of the world). I love seeing the sky lighten. I love getting my shower in, my breakfast eaten, and maybe even a book read before anyone else requires something of me.

But then my mind starts the thinking. If I don't keep it actively engaged in a good cause it turns on itself.

And that makes me tired.

And then....the kids get up.

Overhead in Chicago

2008-11-13T15:36:00.000-08:00

I'm on a trip to Chicago. E is here for work and since I had a free plane ticket I figured I'd take advantage of a free trip. And you all know I love Chicago.

There have been serious things on my mind - but in a full and complete effort to block them out I'm choosing to blog about things I've heard in Chicago and NOT the other things.

I'm writing things down in my journal while out walking and will transfer them here. Here are some juicy nuggets thus far:

Wednesday:

(at dinner at Pizzeria Uno)
Grandma: "You stink. What are they feeding you at that daycare?"
Little boy: "Food."
Grandma: "What kind of food? Dog food? They giving you Alpo? You smell like dog food."

The best part of Wednesday night dinner, besides being with just E, was sitting next to a table with three women (I'd say mid-fifties). They had quite the verbal agenda and I had a hard time carrying on a conversation with E instead of eavesdropping.

Episode One:
Woman #1: My Mom died, two weeks later my husband filed for divorce, and the next week was Christmas.
Woman #2: That's horrible. During the Christmas season?
Woman #1: Yes. I treated myself to lots of pedicures. Figured it was worth it.

Episode Two:
Woman #3: Have your read anything of Sandra Lee's?
Woman #1: From the song?
Woman #3: No. She's a cook. She does semi-homemade food.
(She then goes on for a good twenty minutes about Sandra Lee's history which not only sounds like a mix between a sales-pitch for Sandra Lee and a religious testimony AND it works this woman up to tears. Tears. At some point they change the subject but woman #3 is determined to share everything she wants about Sandra Lee)
Woman #3: But back to Sandra Lee. She's a semi-homemade food maker. You get that right?
Woman #2: Yes, you told us. She makes homemade food but with shortcuts.
Woman #1: I think we all agreed that she's got a good concept.
Woman #3: You should see some of her recipes! I mean, she has you just take a cake mix and then you can do all these things with it. It's all semi-homemade.

Thursday:
Walking around downtown.

Man on cell: No, I did not say you could use my bathtub. You just don't use other people's bathtubs.

Man & Woman on corner. He's looking at a map and she's trying to explain her directions.
Man: You don't know your way around this town like I do.
Woman: Well I did live here for ten years.

more to come...

Her stock value.

2008-10-19T00:30:00.000-07:00

I hate to say it - but Sarah Palin's stock value just went up in my book. Still not going to vote for her. But I have to give her MAJOR moxie credit. Especially for the Weekly World Update. Oh my lanta.

PS - Um, besides the scenes with Marky-Mark, Sarah Palin, Adele, Tina Fey & Amy Poehler, the rest of SNL was yuck. Maybe it's a pale by comparison thing - nope - they just sucked.

Nesting...

2008-09-24T16:41:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure why I've always wanted to be a bird. But I have. Every time someone asks whether I'd rather be a fish or a bird (I think it's a question in the Book of Questions) it's an easy answer. Being able to soar above everything. Flying free. Using the wind to buoy me up and learning how to control it to drive me higher. Birds are used in many instances to

So when I found a package at my door two days ago with a gift from my friend Kat, it seemed fitting to find a nest carefully wrapped up in the packaging.

It wasn't a surprise to find the nest. I knew she had been working on it and that, in the end, I would be the grateful recipient of it. However I was surprised at how overwhelmed I was to actually hold it in my hands and then place it on, above my heart.

See, the draw for me to the life of the bird comes from the notion that it would bring freedom and peace. In the midst of this place I'm in right now (both emotionally and physically) there are moments where I long to walk outside, spread my wings, and take off.

The nest reminded me, so sweetly with it's two small eggs, that my choices to stay at home with the boys, provide them with my own version of refuge, and make an attempt to raise them, are valid. As we've investigated new directions for our family, and I've tried taking out my wings again, the nest has been a welcome reminder of the real one that exists and the decisions that brought it to be. The freedom that I've had this whole time.

Thank you Kat.

His heart is a feather.

2008-09-15T21:51:00.000-07:00

Notes from the wall near the spa. Grandpa's hand.

Most mornings at my grandparents house you'd find my Grandpa, Bob, enjoying the early morning in his spa. Built as an add-on to the house the spa room reminds me a lot of the house I lived in when I was a kid, if only because it has dark paneling. The lid to the spa itself is the covered in brown vinyl. It smells musty, and after the spa has been running it smells a little like a sauna. The spa came with the house and while I doubt it was a buying point for my Grandpa, it sure turned into a treat for him. Which made it a treat for all of us.

Some mornings, when I'd rise early enough, I'd find myself sitting in the kitchen eating Honeycomb, which was always on supply at their house, and listening to the soft sounds of my Grandpa singing from his spa. Now, you had to be careful. Grandpa sometimes treated himself to his spa time al fresco. Since the kitchen was adjacent to the spa room he'd come wandering in the room, still humming, with his towel around his waist. "You're lucky Shellgirl. I remembered my towel this morning." His skin was always so white and pruny. His gray-white hair would be swirled in different directions and it always made me wonder if he might have ben swimming out there, instead of soaking.

Then he'd walk through the house, finishing his song. He'd usually tease my Grandma by grabbing hold of her, twirl her around a little, and sing her a line. Always the same song. In the spa. In the hall. With her. Eddy Arnold's Cattle Call. Silly and simple song.

And my Grandpa thought himself a silly, simple man. At least in the years I knew him best. The truth is, as usual, much more complex. A devoutely religious man my Grandpa had a quick wit, an active mind, and a sharp tongue. He once chastised me publicly during a discussion about parades and then marched out of the room in a successful move to end the conversation. I still have a mix of emotions when I think back on that moment. It stung like a slap.

Yet I couldn't have asked for a better man to have in my life. Every child should be able to get love from whoever is willing to give it and my grandparents shared it with us in large doses. Mediated of course by smaller doses of life lessons and discipline. Some people are lucky enough to have two sets of grandparents who love and treasure them - at least in some version. My Dad's parents never played a large part in our life. Mostly because my Dad's Mom died when I was young. And because my Dad was never close to his Dad. It made us even more fortunate that my grandparents were willing to love us and share their life. Add to that the close proximity in which we lived for the first 14 years of my life, until they move out of state.

I realize that my relationship with my grandparents is not the same one that everyone has with their own grandparents. And that even within my own family there is disconnect and discontent. I cannot control that though, even though I've tried for years. Grandpa knew about it and it weighed heavily on his heart. In his own way he tried to love everyone. I know it wasn't easy for everyone to see past his expression of religion, or his stout opinions. Trust me, I know. Still, you knew what to expect.

You knew to expect the cattle call in the morning. You knew to expect that he'd offer you strange conglomerations of juice. You knew he'd offer a sharp retort to something you said but then always squeeze you extra tight when you left.

And you knew, at least I did, that when he left it would be life changing.

Happy Birthday Grandpa. I know you are happy wherever you are. Just wish you were here still.

Random thoughts...

2008-09-15T08:16:00.000-07:00

I just finished that lengthy post, and as posts do I started off with a different idea to write about than what I actually decided to do.

That being said I wanted to through a couple of things out there that are on my mind:

I cannot quite decide how I feel about the people who failed to heed hurricane evacuation warnings and are now begging for help. Part of me is pissed at them. Part of me feels sorry. I keep reminding myself that I live in an earthquake prone area where, when one happens, we received state and federal aid. Yet if I had specific warning I'd be outta here. Yet, haven't we had warning? Hum....this is a tricky one.

Watching all the Lehman Brother's employees file out of their jobs makes me sad. Reminds me of the Enron movie. Again I'm torn. Am I saddened by this or am I unsympathetic given that the failings of Lehman are being blamed partially for participating in the huge housing bubble that I've disliked since day one?

Jillian Barbari. Really? I'll borrow some observations made by Matt at WTHIM when I say she seems solipsistic.

Comparing the Metrolink train crash to America's 9/11? Please stop. Please.

Fwd. Accountability

2008-09-15T07:17:00.000-07:00

So this morning I made a huge mistake. I turned on the news.

I rarely watch tv. Even more rare is the time I take to watch the news. And this morning I remembered why.

The first fifteen to thirty minutes are filled with despair laden stories that both break your heart and keep your finger from pressing the channel change button. I've already been teary this morning about Lehman Bros. (not their actual 11 filing but the filing out of all their employees), the cute old man on GMA who talked about his unpaid oil bill, the final number of deaths in Chatsworth, and the damage in Texas.

I hate the news. Not the actual happenings, both good and bad, but rather the machine. And this includes all of us. See, every time I turn on the tv to watch the news I'm telling them that I need them to bring me the messages of the world in the way they deliver them.

One of the other ways we fuel the news machine was discussed in two fascinating stories by NPR's On The Media this weekend. Called Stick Up and Pass it On the pieces focused, using the current election campaigns, on two of the most effective ways that news gets spread, often times with a heavy twist away from fact. Having seen and read more forwards than I've ever wanted to I am still never surprised when I open one. I have intelligent friends and family, and yet I receive emails that are sometimes just absurb, and other times dangerously factless and illogical.

Now I do not want to sound hypocritical. I've forwarded things. Usually heartwarming stories about what kindergartners say in their classrooms, but sometimes a political message. Every time I've sent something I've read it carefully, and added my own comment at the start. And I check my facts. But as the story Pass it On mentions, even with several options to check facts (i.e. PolitiFact.com, Snopes) people still fail to do this and send on potentially damaging information (political or not). I am unsure why people pass on stories at all before checking facts. As far as they can. I mean, there are so many stories out there that I wouldn't want my name attached to, even in an email.

It's so easy for us to get mad at the news for their sometimes skewed stories - but why aren't we held more responsible for the news we've spread?

Stalemate

2008-09-10T10:01:00.000-07:00

I have a feeling that this period of time will be one, several years from now, that I look back on and smile at. Smile because the boys were at such a wonderful age. That I could take them on the bus, hide under the kitchen table, or teach them the words to ABBA's Mamma Mia and every experience they eat up. Then they look at me with their bright eyes and smile. I won't always get that smile.

But mostly I think I'll look back at this time and smile because I'll remember thinking that I'd never get past this point in my life. This point I'm at right now. Where decisions need to be made, plans laid, and actions taken. Yet with each one I feel as though I'm at a stalemate. For me, it's a crummy place to be. I like beginning and end. I like problem and solution. I like checkbox and check mark.

One of the hardest things is organizing my mind. I am usually an incredibly organized person but right now I feel like the right-side of my brain is in protest with the left. And my mouth is in mutiny with the rest of my body.

With all of that floating around it was brilliant to read Liz's comments about organization over at backwards attraction. Now not only do I value her because of her life-saving kill.the.gluten recipes but also as a kindred spirit in this world of mental disorganization. Her words illustrated, all too keenly, the place I feel. I do exactly what she refers to - a list of 500+ things I could do, some that I should do, but few that I will do. Then I end the day wondering where my time went, what success I found, and how to gear myself up for another day of openendedness.

So here's my list for today. Don't scoff at it. Hopefully I'll end the day with a clear vision of what I've done and it will all help to move me from a sense of stale to the place where I can look back and smile. Thanks for the inspiration Liz.

To Do List:

- thank you notes for Walker's birthday/UT trip

- 2-3 blog posts on AinB

- drop off overdue "Chicka Chicka Boom Boom" movie to library

- one hour of job search stuff (preferably during nap time)

- dinner

- put pictures on CD for Neighborhood Church class

- swim with the boys (and hopefully Eric too!)

Simple is the new pink!

2008-08-20T12:24:00.000-07:00

Since I rarely log onto my actual blog and rather view all things from the omnipotent Google Reader or Blogger Dashboard I hadn't realized that my blog is loading SO slowly.

Turns out cute isn't always functional. And I've always been a function over form kinda gal.

When I have the time, and the desire to use that time for this purpose, I will find another fun form that also is functional! In the meantime - sorry for the slow.

Buyers Beware

2008-08-20T11:33:00.000-07:00

In the past few days I've spent more time at stores, grocery and other, than I usually do in an entire month. I've been searching out some items for a class I'm teaching and have been enjoying the hunt. Yesterday I felt absolutely dismayed at the state of our human existence after one excursion and I found myself compelled to bestow my opinions on everyone (you, the reader). Part of me would like to print out this note and stand outside of stores handing it out.

Dear Sirs and/or Madams,

Thank you for choosing to shop at ________. I am about to shop here as well and hope we both have a good experience.

I'd like to take a moment to introduce you to some basic shopping etiquette in order to make your time, but mostly my own, more pleasant.

Let's talk first about shopping carts. How fortunate we are to live in a country where carts are provided for us, at no charge, in order to make purchasing easy. It would seem that if a store is polite* enough to provide carts for you, that you should return the courtesy by placing the cart back in one of the designated areas. This is not difficult as there are usually multiple options for cart return. If you find this is a problem for you, then park your lazy butt next to the cart return stall so that you can both pick up and return a cart with little effort. Oh, I know it's a fun challenge to your creativity to see how many wheels you can pop up onto the curb to see if the cart will stay or go - but couldn't that same time be spent walking the five to ten feet to the return? And shame on those of you who fail to even attempt creativity and resort to the assumption that because a cart has four wheels it must be a car and somehow deserving of it's own parking space. With the exception of a physical disability** there is no excuse for leaving your cart anywhere other than the cart return. If you do have a physical disability - or even if you don't - ask for help when checking out. They provide it for free - no tipping necessary!

Once you've procured your shopping cart, and have a game plan for properly disposing of it when you're done, please take a moment to get off our your cell phone before entering the store. I know those fancy new bluetooth devices allow us to walk around like robots - always connected to someone, somewhere, somehow. Still, being on your phone distracts you while you are attempting to shop (and please, don't try to tell me this doesn't happen to you) causing one or both of the following:

(1) greater likelihood*** of purchasing unnecessary items because of lack of focus

and/or

(2) stopping mid-aisle to finish a conversation while appearing to be intently staring at the

products causing cart traffic jams or others to wait for you to notice them so that they can grab the item your cart is, no doubt, stopped in front of.

and/or

(3) a slow, unaware pace as you walk around the store****, leaning into your cart with one hand pushing and the other hand, elbow on the cart, supporting your cell. If you had eyes in the back of your head you'd see people glaring at you as they try to navigate around you.

Now I realize that we are all-important beings and I myself have wandered around the store, cell in hand, bluetooth in ear, doing my best at multi-tasking. It doesn't work - for any of us. Not to mention the fact that grocery stores (and stores in general) were once places where you bumped into your neighbors, or chatted with the produce person about the latest arrival of white peaches - none of which you can while phoning.

If you feel as though this is too strict for you, then at least adopt the following rule: Do not talk on your phone while attempting to check out at the register! If you surveyed cashiers I am sure that number two complaint (if not number one, which I am almost positive would be people who haggle over sale prices) would be trying to ring someone up who is on a phone call. Directions have to be given and re-given, questions asked and re-asked (Do you want paper or plastic? Excuse me, paper or plastic?). Not to mention the total lack of acknowledgement that often occurs when the cashier is not greeted, thanked or even given eye contact.

Shopping should at the least be a successful experience, but hopefully fun as well. In doing the above I believe that your experience, my own, and the other shoppers will be greatly improved.

-------------------------------

*I realize that the stores reasons for providing a shopping cart may have more to do with increasing the amount of goods purchased rather than pure politeness. But still courtesy is involved.

**And yes, being prego counts as a temporary physical disability in my book.

***such a fun word to type but it always looks wrong...

****much like the way you drive your car when you talk on the phone. And yes, there were a lot of footnotes. This will be my last one I promise!

Commenting

2008-08-07T08:39:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite splurges of time is to read Feminist Mormon Housewives. Regardless of how I feel about a topic I always leave with something to chew on for the rest of the day. Today I made my first comment, which I realized after hitting the send button, looked more like a blog post than a comment. I can be a bit wordy (sorry FMH readers).

Well, I'm turning lemons into lemonade! Since I haven't been in much of a blogging mood, preferring to stick to blogger stalkdom, I'm cutting my comment into a blog post! Genius! Ok, maybe not genius.

I did expound on one point below which is indicated by color. And here is the post I am responding to - which in a nutshell talks about what freedoms we allow our children, in the midst of parental paranoia and parenting peer pressure, in order to help them grow into the adults we hope they will be.

Perfect timing for this post. Yesterday my boys and I went for an adventure. We walked passed our in-perfect-working-order car, up the hill and three blocks to the local bus stop. We were just going to the library, a mere 3 or 4 mile jaunt, but taking the bus made the difference between errand and adventure for all three of us. (Not to mention killing some time with is high on my priority list)

On the way home we sat at the bus stop for what I realized was longer than I was comfortable with. The library is smack downtown of my uber-Republican, SUV driving, little town - and the bus stop is right in front. As I watched cars drive by with people who glanced out at us I started wondering what they were thinking. The voice of my insecurity (which sounds a lot like me when I was 14) started popping up. Then I looked at my kids. They sat proudly, eyes wide open watching for the #284, grasping onto their $.50 bus money, all while chattering away about what they might see on the bus ride home. It pushed all my own socially driven voices away. In fact, I found myself hoping that these early experiences will somehow shape their attitudes later in life regarding the same subjects.

Not to mention that we walked away from the 'adventure' today having only spent $2 ($1 each way for my fare), used public resources, AND learned some math, literacy and social studies. The boys (on our 3 mile walk later last night) saw bus signs where they recognized the #284, realizing the bus route could take us from the city where we listen to music in a park ALL the way to our own library. They learned that four quarters equal a dollar which equals the fare. They learned to listen for the station name to be called out so they knew when to get off. It still amazes me what we got in just those twenty minutes total on the bus.

My driving factor as a parent is that want my kids to be able to strong, independent, capable people (especially in their teens and beyond). I want them to know their own personal boundaries, recognize their own discomfort in situations and respond, to know their own voices, and trust themselves. This means I have to keep my own anxious, unreasonable voice quiet so they can hear themselves. I practice this now by letting them climb on the playground equipment without following them around like some underpaid bodyguard. Even though I want to be the bodyguard. It’s taken me some time, and still does on a daily basis, to realize that the chance of the things happening in real life that I play out in my head are relatively slim. Still I too need to trust myself, differentiate between anxiety and real concern and act accordingly.

Pollyjk (a fellow commenter on the site) made a good point - that there are differences in parenting based on situation, location and circumstance. It’s always hard to look across the grass and wonder if what you are doing is right or wrong in comparison. What I got most from mfranti is that as parents we seem to have lost sight of our own instincts as parents. We cater to the demands of our kids, the voices of society (tv/video in particular), and the all too familiar adult peer pressures. Where our parents, or even generations back, might have been considered too lack with parenting (slumber parties galore) we’ve 180′d to an overprotective place. This place doesn’t serve us or our kids any justice since it teaches us to be driven by fear.

For the time being I’m grateful that my kids are 4 and 3. The issues we face now will set the groundwork for later emotions, esteem, etc - but overall rank minimal on the fear scale. Soon enough the larger issues will be here - and I hope that we’ve both laid enough groundwork and that I’ve learned to trust myself and them by that time.

5.8

2008-07-29T12:25:00.000-07:00

A 5.8 earthquake just hit - with it's epicenter too close to our home. Fortunately we were on the freeway and I only thought sometime was wrong with my tires. When I got off the freeway and saw everyone outside of their houses and buildings I knew it was something other than my tires.

Oh. I was hoping to leave CA with no earthquake experiences. I'm not a fan.

Still, another earthquake today happened today - it was actually much smaller and less damaging on a world scale. It happened in our family. Eric's work has decided, given the economy, not to promote the people it had scheduled to promote...including Eric. They will do the promotions at the end of the year. Which is still wonderful - but not what we were told and expecting. Eric's already been doing his new job - and will still do it since people now know to call him.

Oh. I thought this roller coaster ride was over. I'm not a fan.

Sinful

2008-07-24T07:32:00.001-07:00

The boys and I are headed to Vegas to have a sinful time! Ok, no boozing, gambling or any of the other myriad of sins you can gleefully encounter in Vegas - we're just going to have a sinfully good time meeting baby Addie.

In related news - my posts have been slow and rather blah lately. Hopefully after the upcoming wedding I'll have more time, increased energy, and writing skills.

Armed

2008-07-19T18:39:00.000-07:00

Today, during our wonderful walk of the city, I realized something. A double-standard it seems.

A man in front of us was holding his female companion's arm.

I was holding Eric's arm.

For some reason as I stared at the man's hand holding on to the back of her arm I found myself offended that he would hold onto her that way.

It took me a couple of blocks to get over his gesture and then several more blocks to realize that I had been holding Eric's arm in almost the exact same position.

Why did it seem to me that the same hand grip I had for balance and connection was somehow his way of expressing of control?

Family Blog

2008-07-17T19:17:00.000-07:00

We've changed a bit on our family blog - namely the blog host - and because of that several people who had our blog in their reader lost their feed. Even though the name did not change, the RSS Feed did, so reenter our blog name to make sure it's feeding.

So if you read our family blog, make sure you update your blog so that you can catch-up on our family! I have MUCH posting to catch up on but that won't occur until after San Fran!

Bennionland Adventures

And if you are reading my blog for the first time - you should be warned that it's like me. Sometimes a little random, sometimes a little long-winded, sometimes funny, and sometimes brutally honest. Considered yourself welcomed - and warned :)

Rice-A-Roni

2008-07-17T09:57:00.001-07:00

They are lying.

The real San Francisco treat has nothing to do with Rice-A-Roni! It's having my breakfast while sitting at the computer over looking Chinatown and the Financial District from my window.

I rose at 7:00am (which was a feat in itself given the night of "business bar hopping" that occurred last night) and watched as the city greeted it's day. For a while the streets were flooded with men and women in business wear trudging from the subway, buses, and near-by sweet condos to work.

From here I can see a park in Chinatown where a group of about 15 women did some sort of playground exercising before starting their Tai Chi. A man in his office across the way from him has waved several times - maybe he's worried I am going to jump. Not likely. The fact that I am sitting, perched on the desk which is shoved up against the window, staring out at the city from 24 floors up is amazing.

What a way to start my 30th year. I have done so many things in just one night of being here that I haven't done in my whole previous 29. Not all of them are sinful either! Like getting up this morning and walking down to the Chinese market to get milk for my breakfast. Then having a ten minute conversation with the adorable old man behind the counter who wanted to explain why their fresh oranges and mangoes were so much better than the banana I was looking for.

Eric is here for a conference - which holds absolutely no appeal. Still I am going to whip out my former marketing skills and head down there later to keep him company. Let's see how many pumps I can sell!! He is done tomorrow afternoon and we'll have a great time wandering the city together.

What a treat to be here.

Pyschaw

2008-07-05T01:41:00.000-07:00

That is the closest spelling to the sound I am making with my mouth.

See, I ran my mile in 9.27 today. With little change in my energy out-take. According to the experts that exist in the WWW a good mile is 6-8 minutes. A great one being 5 minutes. I think I can get to the good level.

So pyschaw to that other post.

(And no TJ, there will be no Jonas Brothers. If only you were close enough so I could slap you.)

Thank you Miley Cyrus!

2008-07-03T08:30:00.001-07:00

Or is it Hannah Montana? It's rare that someone admits so readily to having two personalities and I've never quite sure which one to address.

You might think my 'Thank you' is really going to be another pissy tirade about the naive Miley taking risque pictures when she should appreciate her role as a teen role model.

Actually the biggest issue I have with this picture is that she looks like a vampire at best and the Joker at worst.

That's besides the point. I do owe Miley/Hannah a thank you. Last week I hit a personal milestone. Many of you know that I've been making a pilgrimage to the local gym every day for the last eight months in an effort to make peace with myself. While I've gone every day (minus a few when the kids were sick) I haven't seen the results I expected. So it's been really hard to continue with my quest.

And then last week I tried something new. Running. I have never been a runner. Between my asthma and the 'I can't do it' thoughts that run through my head I have just stayed away from it. I think the last time I ran a mile was in junior high.

So, knowing that I tend to move with the music, I thought 'What if I put on a song that I always rock out to, set it to repeat, and see how long I can make it.' And that's where Miley comes in. I love (yes, even at almost 30 years old) the song Rockstar. It's the only song I know of hers and I happened to hear it at the gym one day and had to download it.

The song is 2.54 minutes. I listened to it five times and before I knew it I had run a full mile - under 11 minutes!

And yesterday I tried it again! This time I ran the mile in 10.03 minutes!

It has changed my perspective. Maybe I haven't lost the weight I wanted to (yet). Maybe I am not the size I wanted to be (yet). Still, I have done something that I never thought I could do. It's now got me inspired to try and drop that time over the next few months.

Thanks Miley. Now I'm a Rockstar!

Quake

2008-06-28T20:48:00.000-07:00

Did you feel it?

I sure did. No, you probably didn't. It was internal.

A quake that is still sending small aftershocks through my body.

It's happened before. Four years ago was the biggest. That one nudged my whole self. It did not take me off my foundation, though some believe it has. It just caused a crack.

Crack. There it is again. Crack.

A rift that some do not take the time to understand. A crevice some refuse to bridge. And in these post-internal-quake moments I find myself shaking in my core at what might come next. The places these cracks might take me, my friends...my family.

Please give me strength to see past these cracks myself, to build my own bridges, to keep people close beyond differences - and more friends like this.

21

2008-06-23T23:16:00.000-07:00

21 has always been my favorite number. So it shouldn't be a surprise that when I opened my dashboard to change my countdown calendar the result was 21. 21 days that is.

21 days to the change from 20-something to 30-something.

21 days and then I have to chose a different age bracket on surveys.

21 days and I'll be the age I first remember my parents being.

21 days and I have to put 30 into the treadmill at the gym when it intrusively asks for my age.

21 days and nothing will change, and yet everything will.

21 days and I'll be 30.

I've known for 29 years that I'd turn 30. Or at least hoped I'd turn 30. Back in the day 30 was old age. (I'm not really sure what 'day' that was - but it makes me feel better to type it.) This past year the realization of turning 30 has sunk in more and more. Days to my birthday pass by, friends turn 30, clerks at the store comment when asking to see my id....

I'm not afraid to turn 30. I'm not afraid to leave my 20's. Surprisingly. I tend to be more of a status-quo person so the fact that I am looking, anxiously, towards a change is new. And that's the point. Turning 30 opens up a new decade of life to live. The loves lost, bad decisions, hard lessons, long nights of soul searching, and general uncomfortableness in my own body that were a part of my 20's have concluded.

Sure I'll soul search in my 30's, I'll need to get used to my 30 year-old body (Susan brilliantly posted on this), I'll lose love, and make bad decisions. This time I get to do it with 29 years of knowledge. With that knowledge comes a sense of empowerment. It is as if July 14th will come and in waking up I'll shed the layers I built in my 20's in order to rebuild in my 30's.

I'm starting off by making my 30th year as experience-full as possible. In totally me form I've composed letterhead (including a logo! yes, I crack myself up) which I'm using to write letters to all my family and friends. I'm asking that instead of gifts they help me create an extraordinary year. Build a memory with me, share an experience, broaden our relationship, etc.

I recognize the reality that July 14th will roll around with little change. The boys will wake up and beg me to make them breakfast. E will head to work - and then on a business trip later that week. TJ will still be across the country. My letterbox full of 20 year-old memories will still sit on my shelf. I'll still cry at commercials and get nervous that when I dance in my house someone might be watching. I'll get disappointed at myself and laugh at myself a little too much. Those things might not change this decade either.

Still, in 21 days I will take a deep breath and plunge into this next adventure in life. 30. And I hope for 10 years of good perspective, meditation, and interaction. I have a feeling my 40's will be here before I know it.

Consider yourself served...

2008-06-12T19:57:00.000-07:00

It would seem there is a little bit of confusion in the world still about the difference between service and selfishness. Or maybe it's just the world that I am surrounded by.

I had an interesting conversation today with a friend. One of the things we talked about was how often people, we were talking specifics but it's true in general, label something as service when the real motivation behind it is selfish.

That was wordy. What I mean is: Person A does something with the intent of getting something and yet labels it as service.

I found myself reviewing the claims of service our friend has made over our relationship - and then I stopped myself. Because of course I've done the same thing.

The more I got thinking about this the more I hated to realize how often ulterior motives play into behavior. Maybe it's because I wanted to justify my selfish service, but I hit upon something. The hybrid of service and selfishness.

Self-serving. Now if only I'd come up with that first.

Like a hybrid car self-serving combines the best of both selfish acts and service. You've done a little bit of good but you haven't relieved the problem of dependence on ego lubrication.

For example I became an aunt for the first time yesterday (see, that's a self-serving statement). I would love to hop in the car under the premise of going to see Adeline Joy. The truth is that the reasons for going would both be to celebrate her birth, be with the new parents AND celebrate my new auntiehood, bask in the warmth of holding a new baby, and sneak in visits to all my friends.

The dirty little secret for me about self-serving isn't that I do it, or that it exists. It's that people decorate it up and try to pass it off as service. At least when someone is being really selfish they usually don't dress it up. In fact most selfish people are quite honest. Too much sometimes. But at least you know what you're getting.

Self-serving acts of "service" drive me crazy. It's the person who does nice things for people and then tells all her friends about it. Or who reminds you of a "favor" granted in order to ask for reciprocation. I have no problem doing nice things for people who do nice things for me (or even people who don't). I trust that when I need help people will reach out because of how they feel for me, not because they think they have to.

Maybe self-serving is too restrictive of a title - but it seems fair to me. Just don't gift wrap it as something else. Last I checked, none of the appointed saints actually lobbied for their own sainthood.

My Personal Parenting Proclamation

2008-03-26T07:11:00.000-07:00

I, the mother of my childrens' bodies and the wife of my husband's soul, solemnly proclaim that our marriage and my parenthood of you is divine. It's divinity is honored daily in the actions I take, the words I speak, and the lessons we learn together.

I declare that my role as a mother does not diminish my role as a wife or as an individual. Instead my role as a mother does requires that I re-evaluate priorities in order to care best for my family as well as take care of myself. As an individual I chose to become a wife and chose again to become a parent. With those choices I accepted the responsibility of you, my children, and of partnering with you, my spouse.

I believe it is the combined solemn responsibility of us as parents to nurture and teach our children as well as to provide for their basic (and sometimes complex) physical needs. I believe that each marriage, each partnership, must come to an agreement on how the roles and responsibilities of parenting and partnering play out on a daily, weekly, and monthly basis.

Mothers and Fathers - parents in any form - will be held accountable for their children. Society is built and destroyed by the children we raise. Parenting practices will live on in our children who will at one point decide what to do with them. Our rearing of them effects the way they treat the earth, the relationships they have with other people, and their fundamental beliefs of themselves. It is an incredibly challenging and sacred opportunity that we have engaged in.

I challenge myself to find ways each day to celebrate my role as a parent, my role as a wife, and my individual person. It is my shared obligation to care and provide for the souls of my children. It is my responsibility to care and provide for my own soul and needs, to ask for help when I need it, to seek and use resources, and to allow the time for these.

Tug-of-War

2008-03-14T08:11:00.000-07:00

Last night was filled with random dream after dream after dream. And a little boy who decided that our bed was somehow better for sleeping than his. Unfortunately if my bed is good for his sleeping than it means it is bad for my own. The dreams weren't helping either. I've always been a vivid dreamer. One who can wake up to write down my dream or fall back asleep and will myself back into a dream Then, of course, there are the dreams that haunt me and I find myself crying when I wake up and unable to shake the emotion from the dream.

I am more inclined to believe that most of the dreams last night had more to do with my late night bowl of Cocoa Pebbles rather than deep-seeded issues. Still, one issue was prevalent in each dream last night.

The overall feeling of being in a tug-of-war game. On several issues. For example one of the longest dreams I had last night involved my extended family (on one side) having a huge family reunion. Now we usually don't have family reunions so this was strange in and of itself. Given that family members from both sides of the family read this, I am going to leave most of the details out to avoid identification.

We were all in a large hotel suite that, as can only happen in dreamland, had separate areas large enough for each family. My aunts and uncles arrived in chapter-like phases. My family, meaning my parents and my siblings, were the first to be there. Shortly after one of my aunts arrived, with one of her kids. What followed was as strange procession that I can only liken to an emotional reception line. As each person, or couple, arrived my mind, and often my behavior, mirrored the emotion I felt. I grew tense and self-conscious when one couple arrived, followed by giddiness and silly affection when another person arrived.

Usually I am a social butterfly, but like in real life, I found this situation to be emotionally taxing. Somehow our little hotel happened to be right at my favorite beach. Gotta love dreams for that stuff! Not only was it a surreal location but everyone was arriving before sunrise. Soon I found myself leaving the hotel, paddling out into the ocean in a kayak, and watching the sunrise.

It actually reminded me a lot of junior high days when part of the (or at least my) social skills were learned by flitting between groups of people in order to not only find and make friends, but figure out how I fit in.

In the light of day I realize that this dream, mixed with sugary cereal GI effects, stems from the fact that I've been sending out 'Save the Date' cards for my sister's upcoming wedding. In a sense, each person (family or not) that I have sent a card to I have had some response to. Positive, negative, apathetic. Then combining all of those people into one central location and feeling an overall sense of fatigue...and the party is still months away.

In truth, there is one invited guest who I have a keen fear of being around. Not that I am scared of this person but rather I am scared of how I will act in front of the person. Kind of like what was enacted in my dream. In fact my sister has actually asked my advice about this guest. And here is where this tug o' war begins. See, the mostly positive relationship that my sister has with this person supercedes the negative relationship that I have had. It is her wedding. So when I give advice I get tugged between being opportunistic and being neutral.

Not to mention the fact that my sister is having an incredibly small wedding - which is hard to do when you have a large family (I have 44 cousins not to mention spouses). So while I find myself trying to not to oust people she has already chosen I also have to be careful not to argue reasons for why someone should be there. Still, those are my reasons, not hers.

And this is just one tug-of-war that I find myself engaging in. There is also:
work v. school
work v. family
to the gym v. not to the gym
kid v. kid
being like my parents v. being like ourselves
etc....

We all engage in tug-of-wars. With our kids, with our parents, with friends, with foes, with people we don't even know. It's an active process. An active control process.

So how do we get out of the the tug-of-wars? First of all, for me I need to remember not to engage in tug-of-wars that I am not completely vested in. Then, if I remember back to the few times I actually played the live game, I remember that giving up some control (i.e letting the rope slide a little) ends up putting the control back in my hands.

The calm after the storm...

2008-03-08T03:54:00.001-08:00

Most of the time the phrase is 'the calm before the storm'. Alerting each of us to the awkward silences, pauses, and tranquility that comes before something stormy or out-of-control.

I am finding that, while sometimes the red night sky does offer peace, the most calm comes after the storm.

Have any of you noticed that? For me I am see that after I make a decision, no matter how hard the decision is or how much I struggle to get to it, my soul feels profoundly calm. Right now I am in the midst, well my whole family is in the midst, of trying to make changes. Changes to put our family on the right course.

And we've just been through a storm. We're not actually through it...it will be back. Still, I find myself eerily at peace. Anchored. Calm.

This blog...

2008-02-25T20:24:00.000-08:00

Please make sure, if you check this blog regularly, you bookmark it or add it to your blog reader. I am going to 'unlink' it from my profile page and would hate to lose any of my three faithful readers :)

Thanks!

Vote for Paul!

2008-02-22T12:23:00.000-08:00

Caught by a surprise fall storm.
Copyright, Paul Ekstrand

As many of you know my Dad is a photographer - he'd say that he's an amateur photographer but some of his work is more than mere 'dabbling'.

He recently entered a contest through Outdoor Photographer. The contest is in the People Choice voting period...so come on people, let's vote!

Click here to see his picture (which is also above). Below it is a link to vote for his picture. Look around at the others too!

(If the above link doesn't work, go to: www.outdoorphotographer.com, scroll to the bottom of the page where you''ll see 'Winter Photo Contest', follow that link. His photo is on page 216 of the Winter Photo Contest Gallery.)

Highlights and tags....

2008-02-18T07:13:00.000-08:00

I've started a new routine of getting up every morning at 5:30 or 6:00 - just so that I can get my blogging and blog reading out the way. I love it because the house is quiet and I can spend as much time as I want commenting, reading, and surfing. Some days I don't even log-on...and just sit and read, or hit the treadmill. I am remembering how much I love mornings!

Still, I find myself on days like today spending more time on other blogs than writing on my own! And there is so much to catch-up on. So I am going to have to do the Reader's Digest version since it's 6:30 and the boys have been up for a while. Here are some highlights from my last week:

* Spending Valentine's Day in a therapy session with Eric. (Yes, we do therapy. Yes, I am proud of it. I think everyone needs a therapist and every couple could use a therapist. Even if just for a little while. Enough promoting...) I told the therapist, when we made the session, that is was the best gift that we could give each other. Still I was apprehensive about doing a session and then trying to have a Valentine's celebration. It was a really good session - hard, but good. And in true E&S form we sat in the car for 45 minutes talking about it, and then went to dinner and had a wonderful time!

* Having both boys count down the days until we went to the Chinese New Year parade and then watching them be utterly gleeful to be back in Chinatown! (Check our family blog for cute pictures!!)

* My Grandma flying into town. Being able to talk with her about my Grandpa - still a tender subject for both of us.

* Pretending to be a school teacher so I could attend a Nancy Fetzer workshop on child literacy development and learning! Cannot wait to try some things with the boys...

* Getting to talk to my best friend for more than 15 minutes straight, my cousin Sarah for 15 minutes last night, and a handful of others who I needed to reconnect with.

* Hosting our annual Chinese New Year party on Saturday night. Being so thrilled with both the buzz of energy from being around the people (I'm such an extrovert) and watching everyone have a good time. The food was delicious honey. (I am a little sad because, purely out of mommybrainess, I failed to invite some people that I would have loved to have come....)

* Will and Walker trying to use chopsticks. Walker thinking the red bean cake was a birthday cake and not being too thrilled when it wasn't.

* Celebrating Eric's bonus! Congrats again babe!

* Realizing that the boys make fantastic helpers when it comes to chores. I see washing walls as a boring task, they see it as fun! It made this week's house cleaning a whole new adventure for me and reminded me of the joy children seen in the world.

* Making my very first fortune cookies - and gluten-free!

* Paying off a car loan. That's right. I own, for the first time in my life, my own car! Ok, Eric and I both own it. Still, writing out that last check for $300 and knowing that (for better or worse) the car is now ours is pretty exciting.

* Making my very first friend at church. Potty training talks always lead to friendship :)

And now, since it is officially time for me to wake up my sleepy heads, I'll end with a tag. My good friend Melissa tagged me to do this last week. I had typed it up but failed to post it...so here goes:

A: The rules of the game are posted at the beginning. B: Each player answers the questions about themselves. C: At the end of the post, the player then tags 3 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know that they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog.

10 YEARS AGO TODAY
I was a mature (smile) 19 year-old. I was utterly in lust with a certain young man and am not sure I thought about much beyond that. Had just started working for Kaplan (almost to the day). I was living with my friend Shelly and my cousin Leslie. Loved life!

5 THINGS ON MY TO-DO LIST TODAY (TUESDAY)

1. Sign Walker up for a dance class. (check!)
2. Go grocery shopping. (no check...)
3. Send in taxes and car registration renewal. (check!)
4. Update family blog. (check!)
5. Spend time with Grandma and get Patti's blog set-up. (check, check!)

5 THINGS I ENJOY

1. Blogging (both writing and reading)
2. Reading (ah...I LOVE reading)
3. Playtime. Whether it's Trivial Pursuit with Eric or giving airplane rides to the boys.
4. Laughing. I take laughter any way it comes...even at my own expense.
5. Friends.

WHAT WOULD I DO IF I WERE SUDDENLY A BILLIONAIRE

1. Pay off debt.
2. Move internationally.
3. Start a non-profit.
4. Hire a personal trainer.
5. Make lots of donations (including an iPod for Eric)

3 OF MY BAD HABITS

1. I don't take compliments very well.
2. Pulling on my eyebrows.
3. I love to channel surf and not just during commercial breaks :)

5 PLACES I HAVE LIVED

1. G-town, California
2. Avenues, Salt Lake City, Utah
3. Huckelhoven, Germany
4. U of U, Salt Lake City
5. Millcreek, Salt Lake City, Utah

5 JOBS I'VE HAD

1. Waitress at Pinnacle Peak (yeehaw!)
2. Client Services for an employment agency
3. Area Director for Kaplan Test Prep
4. front desk at a dry cleaning business
5. Client Services for People Helping People

5 THINGS PEOPLE DON'T KNOW ABOUT ME

1. For most of my adolescent years I wanted to grow up and be a lawyer.
2. Quitting work and staying home with the kids has been one of the hardest (and best) things I've ever done. Both for myself and my family.
3. I cut my really long hair once after breaking up with a boy. He had loved my long hair.
4. My best friend and I planned my 'surprise' 16th birthday party. My mom still hasn't forgiven both of us for that.
5. I secretly wish I had been a heartbreaker. I dated several guys but did not break any hearts...and kind of wish I had!

3 PEOPLE I TAG

Um...it seems the people I tag never do it which leads to great disappointment and depression on my end**...sooo....

ANYONE can do this tag. Just let me know you did it so I can check it out.

**sarcasm in case you missed it**

Sweet things...

2008-02-14T07:59:00.000-08:00

For my boys:

The other side of the fence...

2008-02-10T07:00:00.000-08:00

One of my favorite blogs to read is Scott W's. He's one of those people on the blogosphere that I'd like to meet in real life. His blog provides daily refreshment to my reality driven mind. He blogs, in very short bursts, of things he is grateful for, hence the name 'Attitude of Gratitude'.

It is easy for me to be focused so much on what did not happen, what I failed to do, and what is left to do. Reading through his simple treasures always reminds me of what I was given during the day that I easily forget. But this isn't even the best part of his blog. The best part is that he always has incredible quotes. This one has been on my mind all week:

Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not;
but remember that what you now have was once among
the things you only hoped for.
~Epicurus~

I have found myself driving by homes with 'for sale' and 'for rent' signs quite a bit lately. And with that house lusting I have been yearning to be in a different place than we are. Moving back home with my own family to live with my parents has been much harder than I anticipated.

Not in the physical sense. My parents are incredibly busy, very respectful of space, supportive of our parentings ways, and always up for a good chat or a game. Very few people could live with their parents for any length of time (even just for a holiday) and enjoy the experience.

For me the hard part comes in regards to my pride. And also in regards to where I thought I'd be at this part of my life. Every time someone asks if I am STILL living at home I feel a flake of self-esteem shedding away. Even if they do not mean it with emphasis on the 'still'. Each time I reflect on where we are and what we are doing it seems I am quick to blame someone other than myself. Then I remember that, while the specifics are maybe not what I hoped for, the desire for this change was mine:

I wanted out of Utah. Desperately.

I needed E to engage in a career that was healthy for him and for our bank account.

We wanted to explore a new chapter in our life.

We agreed that I should be home with the kids and that Eric should be working towards an international adventure.

When I start picking apart the pieces of what I had hoped for, it all makes sense that it led us here. That flip in thinking, of starting with what had been desired and wished, and then looking at how it blossomed, is so helpful. Instead of feeling trapped by my circumstances I realize how fortunate I am to have all of those desires come true.

It always reasserts that the power is in my hands and has always been.

I am at home with the boys. If I wanted to I could get a full-time job we could move out. It would be quick and easy. But what was my choice?

We really want to have our international living adventure. The company he now works for has room for growth that direction, more than we have experienced with any of his companies before. The company is also actively preparing him for that direction too. Sweet!

He also loves his job and is incredibly good at it. With only nine months of employment he's been promoted, given a raise, and a delicious bonus.

Wish...check! Wish...check! Wish....check!

At work we used to talk (borrowing from Steven Covey) about working on what is in our 'sphere of influence'. I'm such a visual person that this phrase is solid for me. I used to imagine, when a problem came walking my way, what part of it I could work through and what part I couldn't. It helped me manage student emotions and expectations, distraught teachers, advisers and parents with unrealistic expectations. It just never translated, I never translated it, to my personal life.

I know a lot of people who are discontent in their life. Some own up to the choices they made (or are making) that contribute to that. Others seems determined to not only place the blame on others but to make their continued unhappiness known to anyone who will listen.

I wonder why as humans, because I know I am not the only one, it is easy to focus on the things outside of our control. To wish for what we don't have....to complain about the things we do...to admire the other side of the fence....to lose hope.

I'm stealing from Scott again (but they are soooo good!):

Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just
show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come.
You wait and watch and work: You don't give up.
~Anne Lamott~

Martha Stewart & Gluten-Free?

2008-02-01T08:52:00.001-08:00

Many of you know I have a secret obsession with Martha Stewart. Or with anything and anyone organized for that matter.

Our friends over at Celiac Chicks and Gluten-Free Goddess both blogged about a project competition that Martha is having in choosing a new venture. And we can vote for what it is!

She had her staff submit proposals and out of the 40 she chose 7. One of the seven Big Ideas is a new Martha Stewart publication that focuses on food allergies and will include recipes! The project creator, Alexis, is a staff member for Martha Stewart and has Celiac Disease.

There are a few food allergy magazines out there - and even some gluten-free ones. I love our subscription to Gluten-Free Living. Having a Martha Stewart empire magazine would be an added bonus! Getting her kitchen team behind recipe creating would mean delicious recipes! Added to that would be the readable, clear format that all of her magazines are styled in. It would just be delicious!

So I'm hoping that those of you who read this will got and vote. You don't have to vote for Alexis' project...but I won't be your friend anymore if you don't! Just teasing. Read through each proposal and vote!

Go here to read the proposals and vote.

Music Memory Monday #7

2008-01-28T18:33:00.000-08:00

Brevity is the order of my day.

Instead of my Music Memory, I'd like to know what memories you have with this song:

Does anyone else think that the cowboy looks a little like Leonardo DiCaprio?

Miscellaneous

2008-01-26T22:39:00.000-08:00

Are there pieces of each of us that are miscellaneous? I'm not talking about dead skin flakes that have no purpose any longer. Pieces of information that when you are explaining yourself you use the et cetera clause? Like on Seinfeld where instead of finishing you just say 'Yada, yada, yada.'

Initially when I read the prompt for this week's Sunday Scribblings I thought it fit perfectly with a topic I am anxious to talk about - emotional baggage. Miscellaneous emotional baggage. It is still a topic that I am anxious to talk about about, but not at 1:00am in the morning after several days of minimal sleep. Emotional baggage, even just the discussion of it, feels so much larger and heavier when sleep and energy levels are low.

My next notion was to provide you with a list of miscellaneous facts about me. Things like:

I cannot mix milk from two different cartons. If there is a little of milk left in one carton and I need more, I'll use only milk from a new carton and wait to use the other later.
My feet and hands are almost always freezing. This is made worse by the fact that I like to wear flip-flops, regardless of the season.
I once plucked two key pieces of hair from my right eyebrow by mistake. This mistake then cause the brow to look like two, giving me a total of three eyebrows. It was a painful month.
With the exception of the first day on jobs, taxes and kindergarten I have never gone by my real first name.

Each of these is a miscellaneous fact. To know one doesn't give you a whole lot of insight as to who I am. You might see a girl walking through the snow in winter with flip-flops on and wonder if it's me.

Yet at the same time if you start adding all the miscellaneous facts up you get the sum total of me. So how do you differentiate, in your person, the singular you from the miscellaneous? Or can you?

Please make it stop!

2008-01-16T12:49:00.000-08:00

Today I was folding laundry. The boys were in the other room playing and I thought 'I'll just turn on the TV and see what's on'. Bad idea. The time was 12:35pm. Not a good time for TV. I rarely watch TV let alone daytime TV so this was a walk on the wild side for me. I was severely punished.

Do you know how incredibly dull the programming is? Compounded by the bland commercials! Ok - 'I Love Lucy' is an exception.

Here is what I learned/saw in my 17-minute swim through daytime TV:

* A judge that has a 'passion for real people'. Um...yeah...who exactly are those
real people and how are all the rest different?*

* There is a guy on a commercial for trade school that urges people to call so that they aren't stuck in the same place in the next four years. Funny because I swear that guy has been doing these commercials for four years. *

* Soap operas and their actors are horrible.
Some actors are cute, but horrible nonetheless. *

* If you are ever invited on Jerry Springer or Maury Povich it is never for a good thing. *

* Wilford Brimley cares more about diabetes than anyone else.
He just exudes care and concern. *

* The actors in the "dramatizations" for personal injury attorneys are worse
that the above mentioned soap opera actors. *

* Most of the time he is NOT the child's father. *

So - that was 17 minutes of my life I will never get back. Doing the laundry in silence is better than exposing myself to that.

Lesson learned.

Music Memory Monday #7

2008-01-14T09:47:00.000-08:00

There is so much to write about! I love all the comments from my last post about Independence - plus I had a new experience this weekend that I need to evaluate and then share. Yet I am at home potty training (Walker, not me) and feeling the need for something fun and not as serious. Plus it's Monday and time for Music Memory Monday!

So on Saturday I got to spend three hours sorting, cleaning, and organizing the boys' room. It was heaven by itself (given my affinity for organizing AND the fact I got a label maker from the boys for Christmas!!). My joy was added to by the fact that I donated two bags of clothes and a bag of toys. For me there is a direct relationship between stuff and junk in my real world and stuff and junk in my soul. Dropping those bags off to the Goodwill was almost like a good therapy session.

On top of the absolute fun I had with the activity itself I was ecstatic to plug in my iPod to my portable player and crank up whatever I wanted to listen to. I spent the first 1 1/2 hours listening to an episode of Wait, Wait Don't Tell Me and the end of an episode of This American Life. While these are not music and therefore don't qualify for my Music Memory I have to put a plug in for both of them. I know I'm an NPR addict but these are real treasures. Wait, Wait is a game show with a pop-quiz style format featuring stories from the news. They have a panel as well as guest players. This American Life is indescribable. Well ok, they way they describe themselves is: "There's a theme to each episode, and a variety of stories on that theme. It's mostly true stories of everyday people, though not always. There's lots more to the show, but, like we said, it's sort of hard to describe." I can only say you have to listen to it. They suggest going to their favorites and downloading one or two for a listen. From their chosen favorites I highly suggest 'Act V', '24 Hours at the Golden Apple', and 'My Experimental Phase'. We use these as our road trip listens rather than books on tape now. There has only been one that I don't like - and I've easily listened to one hundred of them.

Ok - ok. I am rambling. But the above is useful information so I'll consider myself thanked by you.

The real listening treat on Saturday came when I decided to veer away from the spoken word and crank on some music. My iPod is in need of music face-lift so I spent some time just tooling from playlist to playlist. When I finally landed on one I listened to the playlist three times. But before I share it with you I need to take you back in time.

In 2002 I had the chance for work to travel to Idaho on a marketing expedition. We were growing our business there and I needed to network. Eric took some time off and travelled with me. We were spending two nights in Boise - one night full of interviews, hiring and training new teachers. The other night, on a fluke, I bought tickets at Boise State University for the Broadway tour of Rent. I had never heard of this musical, nor had Eric, but we were up for an adventure.

It was a life-changing, mind-blowing experience. We walked out with Eric claiming that he had found a new all-time favorite musical. Seriously - Rent beats Les Miz, Phantom, Wicked - all of them for Eric. (technically Rent is a Rock Opera) Honestly I was still in a little bit of shock. That night remains such a vivid memory for me. Trying to digest the emotion of the music, the political musings, and the societal messages. Hard to believe we had this experience in good ole' Boise.

Rent is often known (to those who haven't seen it) as the musical where everyone is gay and has AIDS. In fact there was a Team America: World Police had a whole scene devoted to it. Most people don't know that Rent is actually based off of Puccini's 'La Boheme'.

Rent isn't for the faint of heart. Yes there are gay people. Yes there is a drag queen. Yes they use the 'F' word a lot -especially in the musical. If you can have an open mind, it will blow your mind. You'll think differently about love, AIDS, gay, straight - all of it.

Here's a brief description of the characters. For more information on the plot line, characters, and more go here.

Mark - a filmmaker and the 'narrator' of the story. Dated Maureen. He is roommates and best friends with Roger. (Originally played by Anthony Rapp who reprises the role in the movie)

Roger - a musician. He got AIDS from his former fiancee who killed herself after getting the news. Since then he's depressed, unable to write, and just waiting to die (even though he's healthy and young).
(Originally played by Adam Pascal who reprises the role in the movie)

Mimi - a young 'exotic' dancer with HIV. Has her eyes set on Roger. She has a drug problem which provides a problem for she and Roger. (Played by Rosario Dawson in the movie)

Maureen - Mark's ex girlfriend who is now with Joanne...or at least for most of the musical. Maureen is a performance artist with a flair for drama. (Originally played by Idina Menzel -yes, the original Elphaba - who reprises the role in the movie)

Joanne - Maureen's girlfriend and a newcomer to the group. She's a lawyer and her lines in 'Take Me or Leave Me' are classics! (Played by in the movie Tracis Thoms)

Collins - Falls in love with Angel who saves him from a fight. Collins is a philosophy professor and anarchist. Collins also has AIDS. (Originally played by Jesse L. Martin who reprises the role in the movie)

Angel - the muse of the musical Angel is a talented percussionist who usually plays on the street. She is a cross-dresser who has AIDS. (Originally played by Wilson Jermaine Heredia who reprises the role in the movie)

Benny - a former member of the group who married well and has new ideas of how to make the world a better place. In the opening scene of Rent the characters are singing about not paying rent after receiving an eviction notice from Benny. Benny and Mimi dated once. (Originally played by Taye Diggs who reprises the role in the movie)

Hollywood finally made a movie - which is fantastic. It features many of the original Broadway cast members (see above). Still the live version is so much grittier. Here are some scenes from the movie. It was PG-13 but I've put warnings with each clip.

Seasons of Love:
This is the most well-known song from Rent. This scene is from the movie opening.

The Tango Maureen:
Mark, who used to date Maureen, shows up to help her set up for a performance only to find her new lover, Joanna, instead. They find out their bond through Maureen is a little too similar. Great song for anyone who has felt absolutely crazy in love. (the 'f' word is abundant in this one so watch when the kids aren't around)

Out Tonight (the first part of the video):
Raunchy and dark - and totally addicting! Mimi, a stripper, is trying to catch eye. As she leaves the club she works at she sings about wanting to go out. He's a recovering addict who lost his fiancee to drugs and isn't sure he wants to go back the down that path. (she is a stripper so her dancing leaves little for the imagination though her clothes stay on)

I'll Cover You:
Angel and Collins (yes he's the Jesse Martin from Law & Order!) decide to be a couple. This is a scene between a man (Collins) and a drag queen (Angel) so if that subject material isn't for you then skip this one. The song is a great tribute to love.

La Vie Boheme:
A former member of the group has married well and is now forcing them to pay rent for the building he originally let them stay in. He seems himself as a force for positive change - everyone in the group sees him as a traitor and a 'suit'. When he tells them that Bohemia is dead they sing in honor of La Vie Boheme. mentions a lot of controversial subjects and includes some suggestive dancing)

Take Me or Leave Me:
This scene occurs shortly after Joanna and Maureen have a commitment ceremony (yes, they are lesbians). In case it's not obvious - they break up at the end of the scene. Part of the musical is their journey away from and back to each other.

Ok I better stop. I could keep posting and by the time I'm done my blog would have all of the video.

Going to this musical really helped me face my own prejudices about AIDS, LGBT issues, and drug use. Eric was the original Rent-head in our family but it did not take me long to fall in love with it. At the end of writing this I am realizing that this post was serious - so much for wanting just something 'fun'. I still got to watch most of the movie though in picking out the clips! Now that's fun.

Give Rent a chance if you haven't already.

It's just my personality...

2008-01-11T14:26:00.000-08:00

One of my high school friends, Carrie, has her son in preschool with mine. It has been fun to catch up with her after their school gets out as we walk around and try to make our way to the car. She and I were never best friends but we were close through most of the time we were in school together. I have some great memories with both Carrie and her sister.

Yesterday she mentioned that one of our other friends from the good ole' days is getting married. And then she said something that I have been chewing on since: 'I never thought she'd get married. You know, she's just so independent.'

Hum. Now I realize what Carrie meant and what I'm chewing over are two very different things. I walked away, though not offended, challenged by the notion that I might not be considered independent. In fact, being labeled as dependent for any reason, but let alone because I chose to marry someone I adored. I realize, again, that this was not Carrie's implication...but is it society's?

Our friend, we'll call her Marie, was the one in high school to be incredibly selective about boys, rather than boy crazy. Rather than head to every dance or party on the weekends, she was selective about how she spent her time. She still works for the same company that she did in high school. More importantly she was (or at least seemed) comfortable with herself and in high school, well that's like the Holy Grail.

Hearing Carrie say this has really challenged my notion of independence. Was I not independent because I always knew I was the marrying kind? I have always thought of myself as an independent person, but is that really true?

What is independence in a person?

Is it based off of romantic relationships? In high school I dated the same guy off and on from the time I was 15 until early college. We broke up several times but it was usually because I wanted to date someone else. And I rarely wasn't dating someone. I am not saying this to sound proud - trust me, some of the 'men' I dated are not ones to be proud of. Regardless I was never long without a love interest or a boyfriend. Is this dependence?

Is it based off a person's awareness of his or herself? And if so, how do you define that? At various times in each phase of my life (high school, early 20's, now) I have felt very aware of myself and very comfortable with myself. Something usually happens in each phase of life that shakes that awareness up, both positive and negative, and forces me to reevaluate myself.

This question I find myself thinking about was then further challenged last night when my cute cousin Ann stopped by. We got talking about family dynamics, in particular, 'yapping'. Ann recently returned from serving an LDS mission and is staying at home until school starts at the end of this month. She got home in October - which as a young adult means a long time back with the 'rents. She commented that she forgot how much 'yapping' occurs in her house. Which led us to discuss who in our family 'yaps' the most.

Who won doesn't matter - oh ok, it's Ann's mom. My ultra-white-personality Mom made the comment that it was hard to make 'yapping' sound like a negative when, for my aunt, it is part of her energy. Like most extroverts my Aunt gets some serious energy from people. In fact she gets more energy from interactions with other people than anyone I know - except for the pre-mommy me. Pre-kids I had a greater need to be fed energy by people through interaction and conversation.

So...playing into my earlier question of what is independence - can only an introvert be independent?

This post has been rather convoluted and random which mirrors my thoughts about the subject the last 24 hours.

I'm wondering for my blogger friends and family out there - are you independent? If so, what are the criteria that you measure your independence by? What about other people? How do you determine, from the outside looking in, whether someone is independent? Does marriage change your feelings? Does having children change your criteria?

And in case you are wondering, I am an ENFX (a mix between J&P). If you have never done the Meyers/Briggs personality test - google it and find yourself out. Check and see how closely you feel it resembles your personality. I love (love, love, love!) personality testing!!

Discuss amongst yourselves....

Wait, how many miles is that?

2008-01-09T09:02:00.000-08:00

Last weekend we went down to visit our friends Rob & Melissa who are stationed at Camp Pendleton. We had more fun than can even be described. Towards the end of our visit Melissa brought up the Camp Pendleton 'Mud Run'. Not 'brought up' as in "Did you know they have an annual Mud Run" or "Can you believe that some idiots run in a thing called the 'Mud Run'".

No, no, no. She brought it up by saying "Would you and Eric run this with us?"

I told her to send me the link - which she did - and that we'd think about it.

And thinking about it I have done. All week. Almost every hour I have some thought of this race.

It is 6.2 miles long. 6.2. Did you read that? SIX POINT TWO MILES! Up hills, in the mud, through a river...

I have never run more than two miles in my life. And those two miles were when I was in my first year of college and had strong legs and a stomach unmarred by the stretch of child-bearing.

So...I am completely upended by the question about whether I could do this.

I keep going back and forth in my mind.

Some of my thoughts and counter-thoughts:

* I've been trying to get in shape and this might provide a good goal to work towards. (Yes, but 6.2 miles Shell. Who are you kidding? Even with a training program you're not going to make it.)

* I like the idea of going out every night with Eric to run. (Yes but running Shell? When have you ever liked to run?)

* It would be awesome to be able to say I've done this. Plus maybe it would start a fun trend and we could do other runs with the Gluten-Free team. (Yeah, how awesome would it be to fall flat on your face or quit 1/2 way through the race.)

* There are a lot of people who do the couch-marathon training and succeed. (Just because you've been going to the gym every day doesn't mean you can run a 10k.)

As you can see my inner voice is not being helpful. I can't quite decide if I'm being self-deprecating or realistic.

Honestly I would really like to do it and feel like I'm coming up with all the ways and reasons I would fail to see if I can get past them. If I can get past them now then during the race it wouldn't be that big of a deal.

Thoughts???

Are my cheeks red?

2008-01-07T13:27:00.001-08:00

I am struggling between feelings of shame and glee to write about this. Not quite sure why I would be embarrassed by this...but I feel like I should be. Maybe it is because my Mom has already declared her absolute hatred for this and my husband his disinterest. What should their opinions matter though? My Mom likes American Idol and Gray's Anatomy and Eric, well his taste cannot even be described!

So...with blushing cheeks I admit that I am totally into Kitchen Nightmares!

I have only watched a couple of them online but I love it. Of course Gordon Ramsey is world renowned for being an ass - which is quite sad because (even though he is) he is incredibly talented. His attitude often overshadows or out-Hollywoods his talent.

Part of the draw for this show (which I watch here) is to see how restaurants are being run. Having worked in one for several years it is mind-boggling to see what happens. Makes me grateful that we don't eat out that much! The other draw for the show is Gordon Ramsey. Of course I'm jealous that he says whatever comes to his mind with little to no filtering. It would be nice not to filter everything I say. Beyond that I am absolutely floored by his ability to manage business with his talent for cooking. Not every creative person can also run a business.

I realize he has a staff of people that travel with him and a staff of people that run his restaurants. Regardless - that he can see the overall picture of business success and also focus on the minuscule details of what makes a dish delectable is enviable.

This probably seems like a random post but I'm getting ready to work on a text-heavy project which means I need a little something to watch. I then realized how excited I was about getting to watch MORE of the show! Had to share...

Pandora's Box

2008-01-04T15:11:00.000-08:00

Have you noticed that once you've become aware of a subject that your mind finds connections to it from everyone? Here's an example:

When Will was diagnosed with Celiac Disease I started hunting for gluten-free (GF) foods. Now I see them everywhere! It was like the original exposure alerted my senses to a world I had not noticed before.

I believe we all do this. Sometimes we get introduced to a new musician and it's all we can do to stop listening to just their music. Or a new food and we can't get enough of it.

Well my little foray into consumerism, environmentalism, and use of the world has opened Pandora's Box. Not only am I seeing information everywhere I go now, but now I'm hearing discussions that, no doubt, were had before, and watching people make their own life changes.

My best friend TJ sent me an email with this link. I rarely send group emails out unless it's regarding our family but I had to send this one just like I have to post it here. The video is twenty minutes long so pull up a chair!

The Story of Stuff

And as always, I would love to hear thoughts.

My own welfare...

2008-01-01T21:19:00.000-08:00

Several years ago, after receiving several awards for his contributions to environmental causes, Jim Fowler was quoted as saying "Sooner or later we've got to tie the saving of the natural world to our own public welfare."

No doubt, given his background, Mr. Fowler was talking about conservation of the earth's resources and minimizing our carbon footprint. When I read his quote it hit a different chord with me. Certainly I am investigating ways to decrease my own carbon footprint, rethink the relationship I have with 'Mother Earth' and teach my children respect to the environment. With the holidays having passed, and in such a frenzied manner, this quote and our relationship with the world mean one thing: consumerism. I spent most of the holidays absolutely amazed (borderline disgusted) with the present-purchasing movement.

You don't need to be a NOAA scientist to find the link between consumerism and the decline of the earth's resources. For me though, it is simple. In the madness that was the holiday season I found my notion of the world and it's people attacked, and my own personal welfare in jeopardy. In fact I mentioned to my Dad today, while watching the Rose Parade, that I longed for the simplicity of my youth. The days when watching the Rose Parade didn't make me smirk at the contradiction of a sign touting 'Preservation & Conservation' on a float filled with flowers that had been harvested solely for the purpose of a parading down the street. I've been to the Rose Parade and had a lot of fun spending the night, throwing tortillas, laughing at the horse dropping clean-up crew, and 'ahhing' at the floats. That was before I knew that it costs at least $3,000 to enter a float into the parade and at least $100,000 to build one. That means at least $4,944,000 just from float 'revenue' alone.

Granted some flowers are grown solely to donate their life to the parade. Granted this is a 119 year tradition that is honored by a lot of people. And I'm not meaning to pick on the parade. The example is a valid one. How many events, toys, products are exaggerated in meaning or price? How ridiculous is it that my bank has several teams of horses? That in addition to paying for the care of these horses they also enter floats in the Rose Parade!

In my own sphere, the only one I can influence, how ridiculous is it that my children spent most of Christmas day opening present after present after present? They were not gifts that we had bought, but I had failed to set an expectation with everyone else that my kids were not in need of anything. We've joked the last few days that out of everything they got the trumpet from the Dollar Store and the $2.00 airplane have been the hit!

My Grandma, who is in town, caught me at a vulnerable moment the other night and I found myself sharing more than usual (funny given what I share here). Eric joined us and we spent a good time talking about the mistakes made in the past. I touched on it in my previous post but the bottom line being: without clear goals Eric and I find it easy to put wants before needs and wants before future. She shared stories of stretching grocery money out for the month and then serving creative meals with any food in the house as the end of the month grew near. Her example of always picking up change she finds, even the now-neglected penny, because enough pennies collected meant 'a night on the town'. When we were cleaning up my Grandpa's things we found $49.00 in his wallet. She has made that $49 stretch - 'treating' herself to Taco Bell, a couple of movies at the dollar theater, and an ice cream cone or two. She still has $11 and it's been a month! How many of us can say that $49 would have lasted that long and treated us to so many things!?!

Credit cards were not options for them. Nor were pay day loans, or cash-advances. You saved up for the things you wanted and sometimes even for the things you needed.

When do we finally say: Yes! Less IS more. Less food on our plates wasting our money and growing our waists. Less gas being spent only to drive to over-priced movies, extravagant shopping malls, and big box stores. More time at the table playing games or talking with each other and less time tuned out in front of the tube.

When do we teach our children that the real message of Santa isn't behaving one way to get what you want, or writing long, detailed lists out but that of Saint Nicholas and his devotion to charity.

This post has gone on and 'off' more than I intended. Obviously there is a lot on my mind. Trying to revamp our life has made me think, discussing whether or not to teach our kids about Santa has made me think, learning more about Celiac disease has made me think, and reading posts like this one by Riana have made me think.

It is horrifying to realize that my own natural world is so polluted by things I've consumed. It all boils down to me realizing that it is time to take control over my personal world. It starts with the phase I am in now. Realizing that there will always be stuff to by and that more money doesn't mean freedom if you just buy the more stuff. It means realizing the links between working to buy, buying and failing, saving to not work, saving and thriving.

No this isn't a New Year's resolution - though the timing is about right. This involves a new attitude towards my consumerism, my nutritional habits, my time with my children, my time with my husband, my time with myself, and my effect on mother earth. And lots more to think about.

Starting anew....

2007-12-30T15:35:00.000-08:00

The time is here. I stopped by Barnes and Noble today to find a few books and found myself bombarded by the tables projecting new 'yous' and new life with the help of new diets, new exercise regimes, new lovers, new personal themes, etc. Of course the largest group of books for the new year are those on changing your looks (in one way or another). Savvy store marketing.

Wish I could say that I was above those sort of new year resolutions but the truth is that I love New Years. Like Christmastime New Year's allows me a chance to bond with my family, play random games from our family game closet, and reflect on the themes of the season.

Our family, my mother in particular, has always been drawn to symbolic rituals. My favorite occurs at New Year's. At some point during the celebration, usually after diner, my mom brings out the candles. Each year the candles and their destination differ, but the general practice remains the same. We each get an unlit candle. My Mom lights a candle in the middle of the table. Each person reflects, silently, on the year that has past and then makes a hope/wish for the next year. When they are ready they light the candle from the central one and hold it until all are lit. We then each place our candle in the middle with the original one and it burns through the rest of the party. We can discuss our hope if we want (some do) or we can keep it as a personal desire.

Traditions can be strange and no doubt some of those reading this will find the above ritual a little, uncomfortable. Visually it is one of the most beautiful things I have been a part of. Spiritually it is something I anticipate each year as a way to force myself to take time to look forward. It is always so easy to be caught up with the here and now.

This year will be no different. I can already tell you what I hope for as it has been on my mind for the last month. I hope that the decisions that I make can be made with clarity and with a clear vision of the future. This might sound obtuse but as I look over this past year, and even before, many of my decisions were made out of momentary emotion.

At this moment in our lives we are in a prime spot to change so much about how our future appears. We can, and are taking steps to, change the way we manage money, parent our children, love each other, love ourselves, and relate in the world. For example, Eric and I have decided that it is time for me to go back to work. For many reasons. Honestly I've had my moments with the kids where I long for the day to go back to work, but now that it is is a reality it is one met with much deeper and mixed feelings. And with this I have the chance to really make a difference for our family, for myself, and for the organization I work with.

I hope that my decisions are made on solid foundation so that when I reflect back next year I can see, even if things were hard, the positive change.

In need of....

2007-12-08T18:28:00.001-08:00

A fairytale? I did not grow up on fairytales, specifically the Disney Princess ones. Still, I went for the second time to Enchanted (this time with my Grandma) and this scene has had me smiling all day:

Hark the Meme Angels Sing!

2007-12-05T21:25:00.000-08:00

We are visiting family out-of-state and I have been keeping busy with projects so I have neglected this blog, phone calls, and general keepings-in-touch. Tonight, after working all day going through my Grandfather's stuff (he passed away last month) I really just needed something fun to do while I watch Law and Order.

This fit the bill:

Christmas Tag!!

Thanks to Holly for the idea! And thanks to my boredom for the nauseating (but fun) colors!

1) Egg Nog or Hot Chocolate? Sorry, anything with the word 'egg' automatically loses my vote!
2) Do you wrap your presents or not? This is such a strange question to me. Are there people who don't wrap their presents...and if so, why the *bleep* not?
3) Colored lights or white? With kids, colored for sure!
4) Do you hang mistletoe? Nope, usually I just eat it.
5) When do you put up your decorations? Personally I like to wait until the 1st of December, but this year it was after Thanksgiving.
6) What is your favorite holiday dish? Funeral potatoes. Yum.
7) Favorite memory as a child? There are so many to choose from. I remember looking out the window, when I was eight or nine, with my brother Alan and seeing a red light flashing in the distance. We were convinced it was Rudolph and we watched that light for a good hour. Alan was the one who told me Santa doesn't exist. I loved that the Christmas elves always rang our doorbell on Christmas Eve and left new pjs on our doorstep. We've already continued that tradition with the boys. I cherish the years that my Grandpa would read the Christmas story - it was so treasured to him. Oh and of course there is the annual family movie night while we watch the Muppet Christmas Carol. It is a must-see movie. The minute the music starts my heart feels light!
8) When and how did you learn about Santa? My younger brother (Alan as mentioned above) and I were snooping in our parents room for presents. We found the 'Santa' stash. I didn't think much of it, but he made sure to explain it all.
9) Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve? The Elf present.
10) How do you decorate your tree? One of the best parts of having children at Christmas is that they help decorate and add their 'flair' to the project. Normally I am pretty OCD about my decorating and the tree ends up looking very symmetrical. Now, we have ornaments that have memories attached and that the boys cannot break and they get put on as manically as the boys like.
11) Snow...love it or dread it? Love it. Never thought I'd say that, but it's true.
12) Can you ice skate? Well enough not to end up with a black & blue butt.
13) Do you remember your favorite gift? I have been fortunate to receive lots of good gifts - but three stick out. The dog (Ty) that I got when I was 11, tickets to Wicked for the first time, and the shredder that Eric gave me last year.
14) What is the most important part of the holidays? My family. Taking time to reflect on the past year. Taking time to give someone something you hope means as much to them as it did for you to pick it out. I love the look a loved one has when they open a gift that really hits them.
15) Favorite holiday dessert? My Mom's Sugar Cookies. We'll have to see if we can make those gluten-free this year!
16) Favorite tradition? One thing that I love in our family is that when Christmas Day rolls around and we are all sitting there waiting to open presents, we take turns in a circular motion, paying attention to whoever is opening it. This allows everyone to have the time to react to their gift and gives respect to the person who bought the gift. I also love that we open a few, then eat breakfast, then come back and open the rest. It helps to keep the focus on Christmas being about family time.
17) Favorite Christmas Carol? I absolutely love 'Carol of the Bells'. With or without words that song moves me.

I'm not going to tag anyone specifically - but if you are reading this, I would love if you do it! If you do play along, let me know so I can see what your answers are!

Kick some a....addiction!

2007-11-30T07:59:00.000-08:00

One of my guilty pleasures is to surf the celebrity gossip - specifically on Perez Hilton. It's juvenile and mind-numbingly dumb, but when I need a little brainless fodder, it works!

For a while though I have been contemplating divorce with my celebrity addiction. While the addiction feeds my desire to be famous, my desire to waste some time, and a desire to laugh (some of the celebrity antics and quotes are preciously stupid!) I am often disappointed in the malnourished imagery, wasteful spending, and incredible life invasions that end up on display.

There is a fine gray line between my entertainment and the intrusion into someone else's life.

This morning I read about Julia Roberts and an incident with a paparazzo. She isn't the first to take a stance like this, or to tell the paparazzo off, but given my affinity for her (both in general and her movies) it added one for thing for me to admire about her. While I don't condone her specific maneuvers to get the cameraman to pull over, I have no doubt that I would have done the same thing.

I am perfectly aware that Julia does not thrill everyone like she does me.

I am also perfectly aware that I am blogging about celebrities when I actually try to take my blogging somewhat seriously.

Still, I think the world of celebrity blogging, watching, and stalking has hit a ridiculous level. I can see pictures of body parts I have no need to see - tell me, what purpose does that serve?

Do we as consumers have some sort of unwritten contract that allows us access to celebrity worlds that surpasses anything we would want?

Unfortunately I cannot change everything - though not for lack of trying! My power lies only within myself...and that means that it's time for my addiction and I need to break-up.

Music Memory Monday #6

2007-11-27T22:23:00.000-08:00

I'm a little late in posting this - but given that I am about to post a picture of me from high school, I think you will all take one look, dig deep into your souls, and forgive me!

Every once and a while I exchange emails from people that I know from our days in high school. I graduated in 1996 - and a lot has happened since then. Many of my friends are married, some have kids, some have partners, some have passed away, and some haven't changed at all.

One thing that hasn't changed is our school song: Scotland the Brave! Granted most school songs don't change. Quite frankly I'm not sure if it's a theme song, fight song, or just some song to tie in our Scottish theme.

No one has enlightened me (nor have I googled it) as to why a small town nestled in California would adopt a Scottish theme. It all worked all well for me since, at the time, I look fantastic in red and even better in a short kilt-like skirt.

Really, I'm not sure how it started for me either. I don't remember the impetus that sent me to try-outs, but all of a sudden there I was, marching to the beat of Scotland the Brave as:

A Tall Flag Girl (the girls who twirl the flags in front of the band):

The next year and my senior year, I was a Banner Carrier, following in the footsteps of my Mom. (the girls who carry the letters that spell out the name of the school, often slamming them into our arms in rhythmic routines):

I spent the summers and falls of my freshman, sophomore, and senior years as part of the pageantry. My senior year I was co-captain with my friend Dana (she's the 'E').

So many memories are wrapped up in those years of marching, twirling, riding on buses to the competitions, and more.

It would only be fitting that every time this song comes on my arms twitch and my legs catch the beat, falling in line and stepping back in time.

Get out your batons, your drumsticks, your tuba, your pom-poms, and cheer along for Music Memory #6!

I'm not in this video (this is from this year, I think) but here, in all it's glory, is the GHS Marching Band and Scotland the Brave.

Capture my youth in a bottle...

2007-11-24T16:54:00.000-08:00

If only we could capture our youth in a bottle to be sent to us at another time in our life, when we need it the most.

The Sunday Scribblings quandary of how our youth was spent is a strikingly apropos prompt for this week. In fact, as I type I sit in my room while my entire family sits in other rooms of the house, talking, reminiscing, planning for holidays, and other generalized conversation. Me being in my room is pretty atypical of my personality and my behavior...but much needed in this moment.

How did I misspend my life? Initially my answer felt easy: I grew up too fast. I was having adult conversations at eight, speaking with ease and comfort in large meetings at nine, celebrating events and birthdays with friends decades older than I. While I had friends my age I also considered (and still do) my parents' friends my own. I worked jobs as soon as I could - sometimes having many at a time.

Was this really misspent? That's a hard word for me to use. Misspent makes me think of the huge order I placed with CafePress a few months ago or the amount of money Eric and I spent on fast food in August of 2006.

The difficulty in labeling something as misspent invokes some notion that value was not realized. My youth, and my life learning process, are full of mistakes, missteps, errors in judgment, wrong questions, answers sought from bad sources...but isn't that all part of it?

How do we say that we misspent a time in our life? Is the answer that misspent time is time we would go back and change or do differently? If that is the case, then my reality is that none of my youth was misspent.

Yes, I grew up fast. I find myself at 29 trying to 'learn' how to relax, to take things slow, to undo adult-sized habits. I have moments were I wish I could run as fast and as far as I can from 'adult' responsibility. Sure there are things I wish I would have learned earlier or taken advantage of. Maybe I wouldn't have taken the promotion, or maybe I would have traveled to Europe or waited to get married, or focused on friends my age group, or maybe I wouldn't have changed anything. Responsibility seems to stick to me like cat hair.

Yet the world experiences I have had are built like a domino train upon each other. Taking one out would completely change the way my other dominoes fell. There are parts of my life, even right this minute, that I would love to be different. In no way, however, would I risk changing everything by 're-spending' a minute of my youth...

Black, blue and hurtful too...

2007-11-24T16:05:00.000-08:00

The chorus to Mika's song 'Grace Kelly' have been floating through my brain all week. Seems to have matched my moods this week.

i could be brown
i could be blue
i could be violet sky
i could hurtful
i could be purple
i could be anything you like
gotta be green
gotta be mean
gotta be everything more
why don't you like me why don't you like me
why don't you like yourself

Music Memory Monday #5

2007-11-19T16:13:00.001-08:00

Have you ever wondered if you have a sixth sense? Not in the Bruce Willis - Sylvia Browne kind of way but rather a soft whispering, or a feeling of deja vu,
or even a light premonition.

For a period of time - which include right now - I have wondered if Sister Hazel somehow has a sixth sense towards me! Yes I know, we all have songs that we think might have been written for us. Or maybe someone told you
that a certain song reminds them of you.

This goes above and beyond that. There have been other Mondays when I have sat down to blog about this, and then thought differently. I realize you all know I'm a tad crazy and, for the most part, honor my crazy. This might change that.
No doubt that if the below-mentioned ex
reads this it will confirm, once again, why we broke-up.

When I was in college, actually during my freshman year, I dated a guy that we'll call Owen. We only dated a few months before he compared me to breakfast cereal in a memorably creative break-up*. I was crushed. Whether or not this boy and I were actually compatible past the few months we dated is undetermined. However, at one point during our relationship he mentioned that a song we were listening too really explained how he felt about me. Awwww....I can hear the oohs and ahhs from all over blogerland.

The musicians were not his style (The Descendants) and the song itself was a little bit 'pop'ier than I expected him to like. Regardless I was thrilled to have a song remind someone of me.

Shortly after being likened to 'Fruity Pebbles' during our cereal date, and still reeling from the whole affair, I started to notice a trend.

EVERY time Owen called me or anytime I saw him on campus this song was on. Seriously. I was at a grocery store once with my roommate, the music came on, we turned a corner and there Owen was. My cousin and I were walking across campus, the song came on my Walkman (linked for those young-uns), and sure enough, there he was on his skateboard coming to find us.

It wasn't just me who noticed this trend.
My roommate had similar experiences as did my cousin.

For a while I forgot about the song and Owen. It probably played but I never heard or noticed it. Owen and I, who remain friends, weren't at school together, our friend group had dissolved and we were in different places.

Then last year I was sitting in our home with my husband, the song came on the radio (it gets a lot of SLC play) and shortly after the first strums of the guitar my phone rang with a call from Owen. NO JOKE!
I had not heard from him in over two years.

Crazy? Maybe. Strange? Definitely.

Regardless, it sure makes for an interesting story and a fantastic

Music Memory Monday!

Happy Monday everyone!

**I am happy to share the cereal break-up story with anyone interested - it is one of the most creative break-ups I've ever heard, let alone be a part of...**

I carry...

2007-11-16T14:19:00.000-08:00

This blog suggestion came from the wonderful people over at Sunday Scribblings. I am not sure they realized what a cathartic exercise this would be for so many of their readers. Or at least for me, I can only speak for myself. Damn. I love speaking for everyone.

Anyway. As I have thought this week about the theme, 'I Carry', my mind has wandered with so many possibilities. All pieces of my life that are blazing hot topics for me right now: the weight I carry, the traits, physical and emotions, that I carry from my Grandfather, my children who are more often in my arms than not, the responsibility of being the oldest child, and the list goes on and on.

At some point during the week, I found myself at the store. Which store it was isn't important, but it is one with a standard big-box cosmetics section. Standing in the cosmetics aisle time came to a stand still, and a memory started to spin in my head. It suddenly became clear what it is I carry. Guilt. Specific guilt for various pin points in my life. The smell of Bonnie Bell cherry lip gloss and eye make-up remover induced stabbing pricks of memory, and said guilt.

I carry the guilt for carrying cosmetics out of a store without paying for them.

There, I said it.

No, I did not steal Lipsmackers or Maybelline this week! It was actually nine years ago. That time frame is crucial because it means I can blog about it with no criminal consequences attached to it! That state in which this horrid event occurred has a seven year statute. That says something about me too, that I would look that up before blogging about it. Hum...that's another thought for another day...

I had recently moved from the warm comfort of my parents' home and pocketbook, to make my way as a student at a large, state-funded University. My parents combined income exceeded financial aid guidelines and my parents' combined parenting theory demanded that I provide for myself, minus the money they paid directly to the school for tuition.

There is a reason that I sharing all of this with you. It is not in any attempt for pity. My parents provided me both the opportunity for me to go to school, an opportunity that unfortunately not everyone has. More importantly, and as per their desire, having to work as well as attend school helped me set priorities (boys were still #1), forced me to create my own signature work style and ethic, and value the money that I earned.

So it is interesting that I would have felt spurred on to carry, in my purse, anything out of a store without paying. Not because I am angelic and that behavior is beneath me, but because I could afford to buy the things I needed, and a few things I desired.

I could not tell you what I took. It was probably foundation and mascara, which tend to be the more pricey things where make-up is concerned.

I can tell you that I took the said items out of their packaging, hid the evidence throughout the store, put the things into my purse, and then proceeded to the cash register where I purchased several things.

Yes. I bought a variety of other necessities. I stood at the cash register, smiled and made small talk, paid for my legal purchases, and walked out of the store. Have cash, but will carry anyway.

This is not the only contradiction in my behavior. The very notion that I would steal make-up is quite ironic...I rarely wear make-up. At that time in my life I was in good physical shape, had always had clear skin, and could get by with jeans, a tee, and lip gloss. Who knows if I even wore the make-up!

Those details are unimportant in the end though. What is important is that the memory of having stole items from a store has been something I have carried since then. Each time I enter the store and legitimately walk out with cosmetics I am drawn back to that one instance in my life.

One instance that weighs in my mind and on my soul. Even now, as I struggle to define myself religiously, I still believe firmly that there are wrong and right behaviors. We do things at times that are directly contrary to who we know we are. Carrying make-up out of a store, with no payment, and with no, at the time, guilt, is not who I am.

From that instance on there have been so many things that have carved and molded me into the person I am. That's not to say that I haven't done other things I am not embarrassed, ashamed, or feel guilty of. Life experience dictates that we have some of those, as well as some that if we could we'd list on our resumes or on a t-shirt with pride.

So, though I have carried this for years. It is time to drop it.

----------------
Now playing: Petra Haden - Don't Stop Believin'
via FoxyTunes

My Five Life Classes

2007-11-13T13:04:00.000-08:00

Terina over at Life as a Military Wife tagged me to do the following meme! I actually really like this one as it reminds me of one of my favorite songs - 'Eight Easy Steps' by Alanis Morrisette (see below). I could just take all the classes that she suggests...I haven't found another song that rings so true in my life. I think I'll do this meme every year and see what classes I've taken, failed, or added!

5 Life Classes to Fix My Existence:

Devise a list of 5 courses you would take to fix your life.
It’s more fun to be in classes with friends, so include
one class from the person who tagged you that you’d also like to take.
Tag five friends to go back to school with you!

I am tagging Jessica, Liz, Ali, Eric, and Melissa - plus ANYONE who wants to do it!

Shell's Life Semester Courses

Course #1: World Religions & Philosophies 501
I've taken world religion and philosophy both before so I want
the advanced course. I want the advanced version of this class.
I want field trips to monasteries, Shinto shrines,
kaballah centers, Hindu temples, sabbath with a rabbi,
visits with theological leaders and religious greats.
Schedule seminars, which include a review
of major doctrinal beliefs, introduction to scripture,
and a question & answer period, with the Dalai Lama, Jehan Begli,
Billy Graham, Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew,
Pres. Gordon Hinckley, Archbishop Williams,
Yusuf Motala, Louis Farrakhan, Bishop Tutu,
Mary Manin Morrisey, Arun Gandhi, and more
Given the religious pursuit that I find myself in, having
this class would provide me with the factual information I need
and the spiritual experiences I crave.

Course #2: Expect Reality 101
When I got married (back in 2000!) my Mom's advice to me was:
"The best advice I can give you Shell is to lower your expectations".
The truth is that I needed help setting expectations LONG
before I got married and for every aspect of life - not just marriage.
It is easy to get in a mode where you think your way of doing things
is better than the rest. You expect that people either do things
the way you want, even though you haven't communicated what that looks like.
Or maybe you expected a situation to go differently than it did and
you find yourself being disappointed, a lot. Or you expect,
when the phone rings, that the friend on the other line will actually
ask about your life even though up to this point they NEVER ask.
Even though I got this advice a while ago - I still struggle with this
and would love to make my life easier (and those around me) by
resetting or letting go of expectations.

Course #3: Countries Have Boundaries & So Should You 101
Ugh. How many times have I said 'yes' to something and then
immediately regretted it. It's even more than regret - it's more
of a burning frustration with myself wanting to be 'nice'
to someone else rather than being nice to myself.
Saying no doesn't have to be mean -does it?

Course #4: Deaf Studies & ASL 101
Did you know that people who are deaf prefer
to eat in restaurants with bright lightening? Or that
if someone can lip read that they prefer you speak at your
regular tone of voice even if they cannot hear you because when
you whisper (or do not speak) you do not enunciate as much which
makes it harder to read your lips? Did you know that when you study
sign language part of your study includes non-manual signals such
as the lowering of eyebrows, tilting of head, and placement of
shoulders? I do - but only because my uncle, who was born deaf,
his wife, his children, and my cousin have given me these tidbits.
I am amazed by the ability my uncle Steve has to make people
he is speaking too feel comfy especially when they don't sign -
but I have long been unsatisfied with my ability to fully communicate
with him. By not knowing sign, or much of deaf culture, it makes
him work more to talk with me...even if he's used to it.
I miss out on phenomenal conversations with him and would
LOVE to just sit down, relax, and chat away.

Course #5: Blood Might Be Thick - But It Is Transferable 201
This is the class of Terina's that I would take too! She called it,
"How To Do With Crazy Family Members 101"
I have been working hard on understanding the dynamics
in my family or origin and in Eric's family of origin. This doesn't
mean that I understand them all or that I deal well with them - but
I feel like I am to a place where I can see why things happen. Still,
especially after my grandpa's funeral, I feel like there is SO much more to
explore. I would like to spend a lot of time doing a detailed, relationship
genogram, looking at the roles of older sibling/middle sibling/youngest
sibling in each family, the behaviors that we learn in our first five
years that haunt us as we grow old, and especially how to let go
of the issues that affect our new families that come from the old.

Our Children

2007-10-29T08:46:00.000-07:00

I recently finished reading Helen of Troy by Margaret George.

I found this amazing nugget of truth regarding children and feel like it captures the amazement and wonder of raising children.

In this excerpt Helen is talking about reconnecting with the daughter she abandoned for Paris, Hermione. She says:

She was not like me. One's child never is. But until your child has grown to maturity, you cannot believe it. Your children are a part of you forever, from the moment of their birth, therefore you imagine you are part of them as well. But they are entirely apart, seeking their own secrets and bearing their own disappointments. If they choose to reveal them to you, you among mothers are fortunate.

I hope, when they are older, I am among the fortunate.

2:20am

2007-10-28T22:30:00.000-07:00

At 2:20am this morning my Grandpa, Robert 'Bob' Walker, passed away.

Many of you know that 'Pa Bob' (that's what the boys call him) has struggled with his health over the last two months. I've blogged about it a lot on this site. We thought he had reached a major positive turning point when he was able to come home this past Tuesday.

His body just wasn't ready for the move from the hospital and on Thursday my Grandma called 9-1-1 and he was readmitted to the ICU. My Mom and Aunt Patti flew up on Friday to be with my Grandma. The Doctor was cautiously optimistic that he would, again, turn things around. They even took out the ventilator they had put him on.

This morning my Grandma received a call from the hospital saying that they needed to intubate him again, but that he was refusing. This was his wish and my Grandma relayed that to them. The nurse then suggested that she come down to the hospital. She woke my Mom and Patti up and they joined her at the hospital.

My Grandpa was awake and very coherent. He and my Grandma shared their quiet goodbyes. He said 'Things are taken care of Joyce". She said, "Yes they are Bob. You know that. We've been through everything." He nodded. He told Mom and Patti that he loved them and that he loves his family. He asked Patti to say a prayer. After the prayer he slowed his breathing, closed his eyes, shuddered, and was gone.

My Mom said that it was very peaceful and about as good as you could want a passing to be.

I absolutely adore my Grandparents. My Grandpa has been like a 2nd Father to me - coming to events in my life, teaching me lessons about love and spirit, and showing me love at every moment. I cannot even say how much I will miss him or how my heart feels with this loss.

Yet at the same time I am so glad he is done with the fight and done with the pain.

We will be going to Utah sometime this week for the funeral on Saturday - and it will be great to have time with my family to celebrate my Grandpa.

Bummer

2007-10-27T17:16:00.000-07:00

I was so excited about my new blogskin - only to realize (after being told) that there is no comment section!

I am working to figure out how to add it - so please be patient! I know you all have lots to say - all three of you who read this!

But vanity, not love, has been my folly!

2007-10-26T22:32:00.001-07:00

It's the end of a long day at the end of a lengthy week.

To relax I decided to catch up on some blog reading. One random site I found had a Jane Austen Quiz.

How fun! Though it made me realize that it is time to pick up a complete Jane Austen collection and get cracking. I am reading Pride & Prejudice again, but it has been a long time since I read any of the others.

Still - it was fun to do this! I was surprised that I am Elizabeth, though I am tremendously attractive!

:: L I Z Z Y ::

You are Elizabeth Bennet of Pride & Prejudice! You are intelligent, witty, and tremendously attractive. You have a good head on your shoulders, and oftentimes find yourself the lone beacon of reason in a sea of silliness. You take great pleasure in many things. You are proficient in nearly all of them, though you will never own it. Lest you seem too perfect, you have a tendency toward prejudgement that serves you very ill indeed.

Take the Quiz here!

Duck, duck...

2007-10-24T14:36:00.000-07:00

Goose!

It would seem that I have been tagged by Lizalicious! Well, more than seem - I have!

I feel lucky - don't you all feel lucky that you get to read these. Stayed tuned until the end to see who I felt like tagging!!

Rules (cause we love rules):
1. The player (c'est moi) lists 6 facts/habits about themselves - try to find 6 you haven't already posted about!

2. At the end of the post, the player tags 6 people and posts their names, and then goes to their blog and leaves them a comment, letting them know they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog for the rules.

~ Six ~
It drives me absolutely bonkers when cupboards and drawers are left open. If we were robbed, I would probably close all the yanked open cupboards before actually itemizing the missing goods.

~ Five ~
For about three months in Junior High I wore fake glasses at home. I wanted to 'look smart'
and thought this must be the way to do it. Plus I looked good in them. Still to this day I'll grab
a pair of glasses just to see how much sexier I look with them - even if they kill my eyes.

~ Four ~
Every single time I do my make-up (which isn't that often any more) I find myself staring at myself in the mirror, pausing for a moment, and then breaking out with model moves or facial expressions. This isn't as a joke because some part of me still thinks I could be the next Julia Roberts.

~ Three ~
I have a dream journal. It's almost 16 years old. I haven't written in it for a while, but my dreams are so vivid that I always woke up with them still playing out, and figured it was a good way to get them out of my mind (or keep them in, depending on the dream!). There is some pretty interesting stuff in there - including some things that have come true!

~ Two ~
Shellina is my evil twin. She's not real but she's who I blame all my craziness and bad behavior on.

~ One ~
One of my pet peeves is mispronunciation. To be fair it isn't that others pronounce a word poorly but rather that I believe that they are pronouncing it wrong. We have a dictionary in our car because I will argue with my spouse about how something is said. I'm always right.

Don't you feel enlightened now? I do - and it was me I was writing about!

Now it's your turn - anyone who reads this is welcome to do it (comment and tell me so I know to check it out) but I specifically tag the following lucky people:

My wonderful, but often poorly pronouncing, hubby Eric.
Terina, the person I've known longer than my dream journal.
My non-evil twin, Michelle.
Ali because she looks smart with or without glasses.
Because Melissa probably does those facial expressions too - I've seen the pics!

Have fun!