No One Suspects the Butterfly

I Love America, but...

2011-09-20T14:36:00.004-06:00

...that Independence Day post has been up at the top for waaaay too long.

I'll tell you, I always have these ideas pop in my head about things I want to blog about. Really, I do. I'll read a bit of news or finish an awesome book and want to share my thoughts with all of you. But then, after all is said and done, I either put it off or just don't have the energy to get all worked up about it. I'll be honest, taking care of a boy that's constantly asking, "Why?" {"Why did T-Rex eat other dinosaurs?" "Why do I need to clean my room?" "Why are those guys working on the road again?" "Why does the baby only drink milk?" "Why do robots live in space?"}and a six-month-old baby who's just realized he doesn't have to stay in one place can be pretty exhausting. At the end of the day, I'm more apt to sit down with a little ice cream and stream something off Netflix (Downton Abbey, anyone?) than write on here about why I got so annoyed at President Obama's job plan speech.

But, then again, I need to do it. I don't know if me posting on here really benefits anyone, but it's good for me to get some of these ideas and opinions of out of my brain. Plus, I enjoy it. And really, I've put just about everything I enjoy on the back burner -- such a common side effect of motherhood, I know.

So yeah, I'm still here. I still have things to say. And if you're out there, still wanting to read it, I'll try to keep it up a little more regularly. Maybe.

This Independence Day

2011-07-04T14:56:00.001-06:00

I'm totally torn on how to write this post. I always like to write a little something when our various national holidays roll around. Last year for the 4th of July, I focused on the beautiful, positive things about our nation. I love the idea of America, its founding, its history, its system of government (as the Founders intended it, that is) more than I can adequately express. This year, though, I'm feeling the need to write something different.

Things are scary in the country and the world. Over the last few months, I've been following current events and the latest in politics, but I've been feeling a sort of apathy toward it all. Not that I don't care but that I can't do anything about it. Writing to representatives doesn't seem to help. Petitions are pointless. Elections don't even seem to do much. Politics are politics -- always just carefully calculated and manipulated. I stay informed, I still get riled up about the issues, but I feel kind of defeated.

I plan to write more on it another time. It doesn't seem right to do it on the Fourth of July. I'm going to spend it the way John Adams said it should be celebrated:

"I am apt to believe that [Independence Day] will be celebrated, by succeeding Generations, as the great anniversary Festival. It ought to be commemorated, as the Day of Deliverance by solemn Acts of Devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with Pomp and Parade, with Shews, Games, Sports, Guns, Bells, Bonfires and Illuminations from one End of this Continent to the other from this Time forward forever more. You will think me transported with Enthusiasm but I am not. I am well aware of the Toil and Blood and Treasure, that it will cost Us to maintain this Declaration, and support and defend these States. Yet through all the Gloom I can see the Rays of ravishing Light and Glory. I can see that the End is more than worth all the Means. And that Posterity will tryumph in that Days Transaction, even altho We should rue it, which I trust in God We shall not."

My little family is going up to spend the day with my parents, my siblings, their significant others, and all the nieces and nephews. We'll have a huge barbecue - hamburgers, hot dogs, Mom's amazing potato salad, watermelon, apple pie, the all-American works. The kids will play on the slip-n-slide, with my parents' overly excited dogs running around them. My pyromaniac brothers will start lighting fireworks (just the start of hundreds of dollars worth of fireworks) before it even gets dark (hopefully, I won't catch on fire this year).

Then we'll spend the evening hours, all of us spread out on the cool lawn like we did when we were kids, watching the town's firework show light up the sky, with its resounding boom echoing through the valley. The kids will wave sparklers. I will be playing my camera's shutter speed to catch the designs. Dad will, most likely, play Jimi Hendrix's version of The Star-Spangled Banner at least once. And I will think, as I always do at this time of year, of the sacrifices and miracles that have made America what it is.

But still, I feel different this year. And I can't stop thinking of this quote...

"Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction. We didn't pass it to our children in the bloodstream. It must be fought for, protected, and handed on for them to do the same, or one day we will spend our sunset years telling our children and our children's children what it was once like in the United States where men were free." - Ronald Reagan

May God bless America as He has before.

What Eight Years of Marriage Have Taught Me

2011-06-14T11:05:00.009-06:00

No one told me (or, at least, I didn't understand at the time) that marriage is a type of education. It's a school built on experience, a course guided by patience and love. Here are just a few things (among many, many things), I've learned over the last eight years...

It's possible to be with someone every single day and not get sick of them.

Kevin's gotten even more handsome as the years have passed. He's going to be one really hot old guy.

I've eaten the world's greatest scrambled eggs on numerous occasions. Seriously. I try to make them like Kevin does but to no avail.

I can watch behind-the-scenes movie documentaries about how the CG special effects were done and kind of understand. Modeling. Rendering. Texture mapping. They're all familiar terms to me now. But don't ask me to explain them.

I know who J.C. Leyendecker {Kevin's favorite artist} is and I can spot a Leyendecker anywhere now. I even have a favorite painting by the guy (see picture below).

Add Mike Mignola, Alphonse Mucha, John Singer Sargent, Drew Struzan, and Maxfield Parrish to the "artists-whose-work-I-now-recognize" list.

I know what 1080p means when you're talking about TVs.

Pop quiz: Which system has the better version of God of War III, the PlayStation 3 or Xbox360? Answer: the PS3 because the God of War games are a Sony exclusive. In other words, I know more about video games than the people who work at our local GameStop.

I am familiar with the spaghetti western genre and particularly liked The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. I also know who Ennio Morricone is now.

I still love smelling and touching his just-shaved face. I thought it was just a newylwed novelty. Nope. I still can't get enough.

I've learned through painful experience that pregnancies don't always end with cute, little babies to take home. Oh, but when they do, nothing in this world is sweeter than that moment right after birth.

Kevin is one of the best birth companions out there. It's the only way I could have delivered our boys unmedicated. He inherited a special gift for it from his midwife mother, I'm sure of it.

Our genes mesh pretty spectacularly. I'm not one for bragging, but we have two very beautiful little boys.

He is such a good dad. As a parent, he's the calm, spontaneous, fun yang to my nervous, over-prepared, cautious yin. Our boys are so lucky to have him to balance things out.

It's awesome, in the truest sense of the word, to be married to your best friend.

I am so thankful for our marriage - for the joy we've shared, for the lessons we've learned together, for the little boys who have come since that June afternoon in 2003, and for the knowledge that a little bit of heaven can be experienced on this earth.

Some Thoughts on Life, Balance, Bicycles, and My Smaller Brain

2011-06-03T23:01:00.004-06:00

My latest Internet obsession is Pinterest. I love it. As I nurse the baby, I'll sit with my new iPod Touch and scroll through pins, getting all sorts of inspiration: things to make and sew, decorating ideas for my dream home, lovely hairstyles I just can't figure out how to do, recipes for things I shouldn't eat (lemon sugar cookies, anyone?), and a myriad of other things. If you haven't checked out Pinterest (you can see my pins here), you really should. But consider yourself warned -- it's addicting. Occasionally depressing ("when will I ever have the time/money/talent/energy do those things?") too, but mostly inspiring. I've already tried a bunch of things on there. Today I made a guitar out of a cereal box with Max.

Anyway...

One thing I enjoy on Pinterest are the various quotes people have pinned. Here's one that struck me, in particular:

It stood out to me because balance seems pretty elusive. How on earth am I supposed to do and teach all I want to to my two boys and keep those two boys fed, have clean clothes for them to wear, keep at least a pathway of the floor uncluttered with toys, and maintain a bathroom that doesn't smell? How do I find time to focus on my relationship with my husband? And how on earth am I supposed to squeeze in time to workout, finish my first draft of my novel, sew all the fun clothes and things for my house, write blog posts, tend to my flowerbeds and vegetable garden, keep up on current events, see a movie, or read the bazillion books I want to?

As if that weren't enough, I recently learned from my brother-in-law, who also happens to be an R.N., that pregnancy makes a woman's brain shrink. Even worse, it takes anywhere from six months to a year for it go back to its regular size. When I heard this, I was both dismayed and relieved. Dismayed that my body pulled yet another mean trick on me (as if roller coaster hormones weren't bad enough), but relieved because I have an excuse for my absent-mindedness.

The advice I've been getting from seasoned mothers when I express all this is to just keep moving, or, to quote Finding Nemo, "just keep swimming." When I saw this quote by Albert Einstein, I thought of all the advice I'd been getting. "Life is like a bicycle." Yes, a bicycle. I can see how the analogy works.

Only bicycles and I have a turbulent history.

When I was around seven years old, I was riding on my pink Huffy bike and I hit the bumper of a parked car, which sent me careening toward a tree. I can still clearly remember my face colliding with the trunk of that tree. The neighbor lady ran out of her house, and walked me home, wailing and bleeding, along with my scuffed up bike.

Then when I was twelve, I hit a patch of gravel on my bike while going down a steep hill. I won't go in to the story and all its details except that the encounter sent me to the hospital for five days, two of them in the ICU, with a fractured skull and concussion.

So, yeah, I'm not so great on a bicycle. But, now as I write all this, I realize that the analogy still works for bicycle-impaired me.

Back to the tree vs. bike encounter. My face was all scuffed and scabbed up from the tree. The next day at church they took pictures of the Primary kids to put in copies of the Book of Mormon, along with a message/testimony, that the missionaries were going to hand out. I remember it being my turn and the teacher took my picture with the Polaroid camera. I don't even think I could have smiled for that picture if I wanted to. I like to think of the investigator who got the Book of Mormon with my scratched up and scabby face pasted in it. Please Universe, make that picture find its way back to me.

As awful as it seemed then, I think the whole thing is so funny now. Even down to the details of Mrs. Robertson (yep, I still remember her name), with her beehive-ish hairdo, running out into her yard, as I staggered around in a stupor. I think of how ridiculous it was that the Primary leader still took my picture for our Book of Mormon project. Back to the analogy. Just like I find humor in that bicycle-related episode of my life, I need to work harder on finding the humor in my life now, to laugh more and enjoy life and its craziness more. As Oscar Wilde said, "Life is too important to be taken seriously." Boy, do I need to post that quote all over my house.

Then there's the much more serious bicycle incident from my past, the one that nearly killed me. The night of my accident, the doctors prepared my parents for the worst, that I would likely not survive from my injuries and if I did, that there was a risk of brain damage and/or other long-term problems. But faith pulled my frightened parents and myself through it. A priesthood blessing from my dad, prayers of family, neighbors, and friends, made the difference. I remember going back to my follow-up appointment with the neurologist weeks after my accident and how he kept saying how remarkable my recovery was, how he'd seen others with similar injuries fare so much worse. The only evidence of the ordeal are scars from road rash on my left knee and right hand. That significant moment in my life, that other run-in with a bicycle, taught me of the power of faith. Even with that powerful affirmation in my past, my faith wavers from time to time. It's not perfect. I still don't understand everything, but I'm always working at it. I also learned to always, always wear a helmet.

And here's the other thing I learned from both of those experiences: I always got back on the bike. Even after my near-death experience. And that's how I've got to approach this phase of my life that seems so hectic, so exhausting, so overwhelming. It's never going to be perfect. It's going to be hard. But it can also be so great and so beautiful and so rewarding. My brain will return to its normal size someday. Someday, I'll miss the unbridled energy of my four-year-old and my two-month-old's constant desire for closeness. So for now, with some humor and a lot of faith, I'm going learn to simply enjoy the ride.

Hellllooooo? (echo echo echo)

2011-05-23T21:07:00.002-06:00

I haven't forgotten about this blog. Really. Does anyone even read or check it anymore?

Yeah, I used post regularly. Having a second child really makes certain things a little more tricky. Things like time management. Keeping a clean house. Showering.

But I'm starting to figure it out. I'm getting a little less hormonal. For a while there, I thought I was going nuts. I'm still not sure how the rest of you superwomen balance everything. If you could pass on your secrets, please do so now.

A new post is coming soon. At least I think so.

As of Now

2011-04-14T12:54:00.008-06:00

As of now, I'm...

...flying solo with my two little boys for the first time. Kevin went back to work today. Baby Jonah is sleeping in the other room. I should be cleaning my house. Or sleeping. Nevermind, he's waking up right now.

...typing with one hand. {Other arm is holding baby.}

...still getting used to being another person's sole source of food. Even though I've done this nursing thing before, it still amazes me. Jonah's gained over a pound since he left the hospital. Knowing that makes feeling like a top-heavy cartoon character much more bearable.

...still not used to sleeping in 2-3 hour spurts.

...so grateful that Max is such a good big brother. Always wanting to help, always willing to run around the house to get things for me. No jealousy from him. Seriously. He adores his little brother and is constantly saying, with this sort of awe in his voice, "He came out of your tummy!"

...feeling delightfully unblocked in my writing. I've added a couple thousand words to my first draft since Saturday. This is partly due to my awesome husband kicking me out of the house for a couple hours everyday so I would go write at the nearby Starbucks.

...convinced that the smell of coffee does something to the right side of my brain. I've never had a cup of coffee in my life, but I've always loved the smell. It's weird, but I just feel more creative when I write in a coffeeshop. Maybe it's just the whole artsy-fartsy vibe at coffeeshops. Or it may be from years of working in a bookstore with a cafe. In any case, I've missed my coffeeshop writing sessions -- I'm so glad Kevin took on the baby duties and {literally} made me go these last few days.

...in love with an album Kevin gave me for my birthday. It's the debut album from The Civil Wars called Barton Hollow. I like to pretend it's the soundtrack to my book (I flatter myself, but I'm convinced it totally fits.). I'm trying to figure out how to convey the mood of their music to my writing. They remind me of Iron & Wine, but I think I might like The Civil Wars better. To get a taste of what they sound like, go here and here and here. (Quick/dorky aside: did you know the Civil War started 150 years ago this week? I've been wondering when to mention this album and it seemed like a good time. Ha ha.)

... using nursing time as reading time. I've been reading a bunch of writing books, but am feeling like reading novels, too. I'm going to start reading Charlotte's Web to Jonah (it was the first novel I read to Max, too) and I just ordered my friend's book that was just published (how awesome is that?), but I'd take suggestions/recommendations for others. I mean, the boy eats every 2-3 hours, so I'm going to be doing A LOT of reading, at least the next few months.

...still feeling overwhelmed at the responsibility of raising two children now. Not that raising one is easy, by any stretch of the imagination. But two? It's kind of daunting. Good thing they're so cute.

My Childhood in Books

2011-03-04T11:48:00.011-07:00

Having worked in a bookstore for a number of years, I can't help but remember Read Across America day every year. Since I was in charge of storytimes and book groups for children, I was in charge of making a big to-do of the date. Read Across America day is March 2, made to coincide with be Dr. Seuss's birthday (that also happens to be my mother-in-law's birthday. It fits -- she's an avid book lover). Anyway, as it passed I couldn't help but think of the books that shaped me as a child.

I can recall my grade-school years in the context of what I was reading. I was a really shy girl and a huge bookworm, so it comes as no surprise that I can remember, often in detail, what I was reading at every age. Since I'm feeling all nostalgic, I thought I'd share my grade-by-grade favorite children's novels.

First Grade

As I've mentioned before, I kind of skipped over picture books once I knew how to read. By the time first grade started, I read my first children's novel, the classic Charlotte's Web. I don't remember a ton about my first reading (the first of many readings) of the book, except being horrified like Fern when her dad gets the ax to kill the runty pig and loving the part about Wilbur getting a buttermilk bath. I also remember loving all the details -- what the family ate for breakfast on the farm, the detailed contents of Wilbur's slop, the descriptions of the barn. As I've gotten older, I've grown to love the book even more. I read it to my son when he was only days old, with me getting all weepy over the beautiful prose as I nursed him. Read the last chapter of the book. It's possibly one of my favorite passages in literature. Seriously.

Somewhere Between First & Second Grade

No list would be complete without Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle. I dream of writing an adapted screenplay based on the Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle books someday and having Tim Burton make the movie. Think about it. Pure awesomeness.

Second Grade

I discovered Beverly Cleary when I was in second grade. I read almost every single thing she's written. From the popular Ramona books to The Mouse and Motorcycle to the books about Henry Huggins, Ribsy, and Muggie Maggie. I couldn't get enough. When I was looking for a picture of Ramona for this post, I found the one at the right and I laughed out loud. All the memories came flooding back. The way Beverly Cleary portrayed childhood was so relatable. Her books are funny and tender at the same time. I'm waiting until Max starts school to introduce him to the Ramona books, in particular (we've read The Mouse and the Motorcycle already, though. To my delight, he loved it). I think he'll appreciate the situations Ramona finds herself in better once he's part of the whole school dynamic. Now I have to stop writing about Max starting school, because it's going to make me fall apart and start bawling. Okay....deep breath...moving on.

{Is it weird that as I go through all my favorites, I'm getting a little emotional? It could be due to the fact that I'm super-hormonal (only 17 days until my due date!), but I think it's because I connected so much to what I read and it reminds me almost better than anything what it was like when I was a kid. Or it could be that I'm still thinking about Max being in school...}

Third Grade

Laura Ingalls Wilder is on my list as one of my favorite authors, even with the many, many books I've read. A few months ago, as I was reading Little House in the Big Woods to Max at bedtime, I was loving every minute of it. I read all the books in the Little House series over and over starting in the third grade. I loved the way she told the simple stories, the detailed accounts of the day-to-day activities around the house. It totally fascinated me. The way she conveyed smells, tastes, sights, and sensations affected me profoundly as a reader and writer. I can remember trying to copy the way Mrs. Wilder used detail in my own writing at the time (Is it any surprise that as a child I was busy writing short stories and fantasizing about being an author when I grew up?). Who am I kidding? I still find myself trying to do that!

Somewhere Between Third & Fourth Grade

I can't exactly remember whether it was third or fourth grade, but that's when I discovered Roald Dahl. I could probably leave it at that and it'd be enough of an explanation. Like with Beverly Cleary and Laura Ingalls Wilder, once I discovered Roald Dahl, I read anything and everything of his that I could get my hands on. Without question, my favorite was Matilda. Except for the fact that I didn't have abusive parents and that I didn't attend a school that had a "chokey" in the basement, I felt like I could relate to the bookish, kind of lonely Matilda. It honestly isn't an exaggeration when I say I've read Matilda at least ten times. Max and I have read Roald Dahl for bedtime before -- I wonder if it's time to introduce him to Matilda yet.

Fourth Grade

I've always been a history geek. Seriously. For reasons I can't figure, my brothers and I are all this way.

Anyway, my obsession with historical fiction began officially in fourth grade when I read Number the Stars by Lois Lowry. I can remember reading it in the living room, in an ugly blue armchair, fascinated and confused at the time. My mom walked by as I was reading it and I can remember asking her what a Nazi was. What a question! I can't really recall her exact answer except that they were really bad people that did some really bad things to other people. This book was so influential on my young mind because it was dramatic and even a little scary. After that, I was determined to write some kind of historical fiction. If I still had my old short stories, I'm sure I would laugh out loud at how blantanly I mimicked Number the Stars. That said, just about everything fiction I want to write is based in history. That book definitely got the ball rolling.

That said, I spent a lot of my fourth grade reading books by Judy Blume. I thought the Fudge books were possibly the funniest things I'd ever read.

Fifth Grade

Two books stand out: From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler and The Witch of Blackbird Pond. That was the year I got the teacher people actually wanted (somehow, every year of elementary school, I got the teacher people didn't want) and we read both of those books. My favorite of the two was definitely The Witch of Blackbird Pond. I still think it could make a great movie (yet another book I dream of writing a screenplay for). It sounds silly now, when I was ten, these books felt like more 'grown-up' reading.

Once a bookworm, always a bookworm. To this day, I'm usually in the middle of three or four books at a time -- some of them fiction, a lot of them nonfiction. But as much as I love the books I read as a teenager, the ones I read as an English major in college, and the ones I read as a full-fledged adult, I'm not sure if they've impacted me the way the books of my childhood did. How grateful I am for the talented writers who shaped my budding years as a writer and a reader.

{What are your favorites?}

Lately

2011-02-15T11:01:00.016-07:00

Whenever I fall into a blogging slump, I just post a list of random things occupying space in my brain. So here are some the newest thoughts floating around in Heather's head {since you're all dying to know, I'm sure}...

1. My son is in the long-awaited superhero phase. Seriously, I've been so excited for the day Max got interested in them. I loved superheroes when I was a kid (I only had brothers, what can I say?). As I've mentioned before, I especially loved the old Batman series from the 1960s and I thought Batgirl was as awesome as could be.

Anyway, Max's favorite superhero is none other than Superman and you can find him wearing the same shirt everyday (a Superman shirt with an attached cape), "flying" all around the house and beating up his stuffed animals (aka "bad guys"). We have a DVD of the old Max Fleischer Superman cartoons from the 1940s and Max thinks that the movies were made just for him because he sees his name in the opening credits, right above Superman's name. I absolutely love how he'll stand with his little clenched fists on his hips when he wears that shirt (as seen in the picture on the left -- pay no attention to the clothes and toys strewn about the floor). In the mornings, before he changes into his trusty shirt, he runs up the stairs saying, just like Superman does before he changes, "This looks like a job for Superman!" He also really likes Batman (when he's in his pajamas, he'll wear my 22-year-old Batgirl cape and utility belt my mom made for my Halloween costume in second grade) and he also thinks that his new CTR ring from Primary is just like the Green Lantern's ring. I love it.

2. Speaking of superhero related things, does anyone think that Anne Hathaway is a good choice for Catwoman in the new Batman movie? I've never been a fan of hers and I just can't see her playing that role very well. But who am I to question Christopher Nolan? I didn't think Heath Ledger as the Joker made a whole lot of sense when I first heard it. But Anne Hathaway? Meh.

3. I've reached the point of my pregnancy where people are asking how many weeks I have left and about how I'm going to deliver. I've got five weeks left (it feels like I've been pregnant forever), but I tell them I'm betting on the fact that I'll go overdue since I went a week over with Max. From there, they'll ask if I'm going to get induced and I say no, that I'm going the all-natural, drug-free Hypnobirthing route again. I get mixed reactions -- a few supportive, some totally skeptical, most incredulous. That's fine -- everyone is entitled to her opinion. But when I was pregnant with Max, I swear people were trying to scare, even terrify me about birth. With this pregnancy, I kind of like the incredulous response. I can't predict what baby #2's birth is going to be like (who can, right?), but I do know what I'm capable of this time around.

My point is that when I was about to have Max, I would tell people that I was going to go drug-free and they'd say supportive things like, "Yeah, right!" or a sarcastic "Good luck with that." or "Just wait until you start getting contractions. You'll be begging for an epidural." Can you imagine if I reacted similarly to other people's birth plans? "What? You're getting an epidural? Taking the easy way out, I see." or "A c-section? Do you really need to get a c-section?" Of course, I would never say that to anyone -- not only is it really rude, but the way you give birth is a very personal choice; what's right for one isn't always right for another. Can you imagine, though, if I reacted that way? Funny that how frequently I get it, though. Don't worry -- no pity party here. I promise it really doesn't bother me like it did the first time.

4. I've recently rediscovered Pushing Daisies. I started watching it when it premiered, but then I got involved with something that kept me busy the nights it was on. Thanks to Netflix, I can stream all the episodes whenever. I just finished the first season (so no spoilers about the next one, please!). I love Pushing Daisies. It's just so different than anything else on TV. The concept is unique, it's not totally mindless, the love story is fun to watch, the characters are great, and I absolutely love the look of it (the style reminds me of one of my favorite movies, Amelie). But, of course, whenever I like a show on TV (which is kind of rare, to be honest), it inevitably gets cancelled. I'm still a little bitter about Arrested Development's cancellation. It's like this curse -- once there's something besides a crime show or hospital drama or crappy reality show that piques my interest, it gets cancelled. That's why I'm afraid to check out Mad Men. Do you think if I start watching The Bachelor it will get cancelled? Then again, as much as I'd like to provide this service to society, I don't think I could stomach more than five minutes of that show. *shudder*

5. In other news, did you know that the Obama administration released its blueprint for the 2011 budget yesterday? According to those plans, government debt will exceed the U.S. economy this fiscal year. The proposed budget will include the largest one-year debt jump in our history by the end of the fiscal year -- an extra $2 trillion, pushing the national debt up to $15.4 trillion. Your share of this debt is $45,468.39 (My four-year-old has that share, too. Same goes for baby #2). I'd like to think that if people actually got a bill of their part of the national debt, maybe we'd all speak up and get more involved. Maybe.

6. I wrote a good part of this post last night at 1:00 AM. I dread going to bed now. I love to sleep I hate going to bed now because it's so uncomfortable. The only way I get any real, deep sleep is if I'm on the couch. Just a few more weeks and I can sleep on my stomach again...

7. I've never really been into emergency preparedness. I mean, I try to do food storage but I've never gotten gung-ho about it like other people do. I'd hear people get so excited and animated about disasters during emergency prep lessons at church and I'd just wonder if they actually wanted a disaster to happen, if they'd be disappointed if one never did because they wouldn't be able to use all their supplies. Getting supplies, kits, and escape plans seemed overwhelming. I figured I'd make whatever we had work. Then we had three earthquakes this past weekend. Nothing major -- they ranged from 2.5 to 2.8 in magnitude. I'd never felt an earthquake before. After the third one, I was a little freaked out, so I sought reassurance from my dad, a native of Southern California. Both he and the seismologist I watched on the news later said that earthquakes can come in clusters and that I didn't need to worry. Even so, it's been a sort of wake-up call for me. I'm not going to go build some kind of bomb shelter in my backyard, but I think putting together a few 72-hour kits won't be too overwhelming after all.

8. I just started a beginner's quilting class with my mom. Totally enjoying it. Who'd have thought someone once paralyzed by the fear of her sewing machine would take up quilting? My late grandma, who was an amazing seamstress, would be so proud!

9. I'm no winter-hater, but I'm dying for it be springtime again. Not only is my due date on the first day of spring, but I'm also trying to fight the urge to pull out my gardening books and start planning my garden and flowerbeds. I'm trying to resist the urge to research what trees I want to plant in my yard. One of my favorite gardening books, The Garden Home by P. Allen Smith, keeps beckoning me from the shelf, but I'm resisting. The gardening workshops are starting again and I want to sign up. But I get so nervous because I just know I'll get all excited about the prospects of spring and then we'll get blasted with a winter storm.

10. My birthday is in just a little over a week and, just like with Christmas, I have no idea what I want. My husband asked me last night and I couldn't think of anything. Is that weird?

After These Things

2011-01-27T11:40:00.025-07:00

When I was in high school, I think I got a kick out of telling my Young Women leaders that I might get married someday. Asserting my independence from men was the only way this girl on the straight-and-narrow rebelled in high school. The leaders would get this concerned look on their faces and say, "Don't you want to get married?" I'd say sure, but I'd also rattle off a list of things I'd also like to do. Go to college. Get a Bachelor's, Master's, even a Doctorate degree. Travel. Go on a mission. Live in a big city. Work for a newspaper, magazine, or publishing house. Write a book. Teach at a university, or even just a high school. Maybe I'd squeeze marriage in there someday. As for kids? Even though I (secretly) wanted to be a wife and mother someday, I also bought into the notion that being a housewife and stay-at-home mom was drudgery compared to all the other things I wanted to do. I mean, I'd spent plenty of time baby-sitting other people's kids. Did I want that 24/7? Nope.

And then one of my leaders said something to me one Sunday that was life-altering. I'm sure that leader doesn't even remember, but it struck home with me. After rattling off my life's to-do list yet again (how annoying that must have gotten for everyone else!) and how marriage and motherhood would prevent it, she said, right in the middle of class, "Heather, you can do all of those things if you want. You should do them! Just remember there's a time and season for everything." Then I had one of those a-ha! moments: marriage and family life might sidetrack some of my plans, but they didn't stop them from happening. Sometimes we just experience delays in life, not necessarily cancellations. Wanting to be a wife and mother someday didn't mean I was giving up everything after all.

So why do I mention all of this? I read an article on Salon.com the other day that got me thinking about where I fit in the "Mormon Mommy" culture. It's been kind of bothering me. Am I "just" a housewife, a woman who forgot about the aspirations of her youth and gave into cultural pressure? No. Not even close. As that wise Young Women leader reminded me, there's a time and a season for everything. Currently, I'm in the mothering young children season of my life. The other things will come someday.

The article I'm talking about was written by a self-proclaimed feminist addicted to "Mormon Mommy Blogs". I found it both interesting and irritating. She wrote of how these blogs are an "escapist fantasy" that's "weirdly uplifting", an insight into a world filled with cupcake-making and "picture-perfect catalog lives." Most importantly, according to the author, we Mormon women blog because we "face immense cultural pressure to stay home with children rather than pursue a career, blogging about their adventures in homemaking becomes a sort of creative outlet, a way of contributing to the larger world beyond the home."

Where do I begin?

I'll say that I thought it was nice that the author, Emily Matchar, found women finding joy in motherhood uplifting, even if it was weirdly so. I'm glad that she appreciated the message that family life is wonderful. That said, I found the article mostly condescending.

According to her, the typical Mormon woman has nothing better to do than shop at Anthropologie (as much as I'd like to, it's not within my budget!), doing cute craft projects, and throwing dinner parties for all our cookie-cutter friends. We all get married straight out of high school and have all of our children by our early 20s. We spend our free time sewing, baking, and drinking copious amounts of hot chocolate. Our lives are blissfully easy. As a friend of the author is quoted in the article, "I'm just jealous. I want to arrange flowers all day too!"

But that friend has more important things to do than us Mormon women. She's spent her days working in a lab. In the real world. The other women Matchar knows that are obsessed with "Mormon Mommy Blogs" are in graduate school, toiling away in the world of academia. I wouldn't mind being in graduate school myself, but I guess I'm too busy in my unproblematic wonderland.

Sarcasm aside, I can see how the author might get that idea. Blogs aren't always honest -- we show our best sides. I try to be honest, but it's hard. I won't lie and say that certain blogs don't make me feel like an unorganized, ugly mess. I don't fit the stereotype portrayed by Matchar. Honestly, I don't know many people who do. At least I'm not friends with them. That said, I think people like the author of the Salon.com article, a "standard-issue late-20-something childless overeducated atheist feminist" don't want to take a closer look at us Mormon bloggers. It's a lot easier to write us off as repressed women living in a fantasy land instead of really looking into why we do what we do.

That's not to say I don't love homemaking. I have another blog entirely devoted to frugal homemaking. I love to bake and cook. I just learned how to sew last year and I enjoy it. I may get more enjoyment out of vintage depictions of housewives than I should, but a glorified, Mormon, modern-day June Cleaver I am not. My house is rarely sparkling clean (and when it is, it doesn't last long) and there are more nights than I'd like to admit that we eat crappy Little Caesar's pizza. I try my hardest to make my house a home, though.

I also love being a mother. In high school, motherhood never appealed to me. Even after I got married, I never really felt "baby-hungry". I would look at the couples with babies and think about how cute they were but also thinking how much I loved sleeping. Eventually, though, I warmed to the idea. Three and half years later, I was in the throes of motherhood, with all the stretch marks, sleep deprivation, midnight nursings, loads of dirty diapers, and the most challenging and enlightening experience of my life. Motherhood is not easy, but, as with most hard things, it's completely worth it.

But how can a woman be content, even happy, being "just" a mother? I think that's what this article asks but doesn't really answer.

Matchar writes "Mormons are particularly famous for their 'put on a happy face' attitude. The church teaches that the Gospel is the only authentic path to true happiness. So if you're a faithful follower, you better be happy, right?" She also writes that, without fail, you will find on these "Mormon Mommy Blogs" a widget of a temple that links to the Church website, as if we're compelled to put it on there. Are we compelled to put it on there?

One of the tenets of our religion, as outlined in our Articles of Faith, is,

"We believe in being honest, true, chaste, benevolent, virtuous, and in doing good to all men; indeed, we may say that we follow the admonition of Paul—We believe all things, we hope all things, we have endured many things, and hope to be able to endure all things. If there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy, we seek after these things."

Maybe that's why the "Mormon Mommy Blogs" have garnered attention. We seek after things that are "virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy." Why not focus on the positive aspects of life instead of mulling constantly over the negative? Why not share what you love about motherhood or being a woman instead of complaining about what you don't love? If cultivating a talent for baking, gardening, crafting, sewing, photography, or anything else brings you joy, why not tell the world about it? If anything, the world needs more optimism and more lovely things.

That's not to say we shouldn't be honest. Life isn't perfect for anyone, no matter how hard they try to seem so on their blogs. The women I admire have experienced all sorts of things; the "Mormon Mommy" blogs I read aren't all lollipops and sunshine. One of my friends' blog is refreshingly open about all the ups and downs of parenthood - from stories about bathroom mishaps at the pool (I laughed so hard at that one) to troubles at school to the challenges of dealing with Asperger's syndrome. Another blog I love isn't afraid to explore all sorts of emotions -- the joys of motherhood, but also the frustrations of infertility, the sorrow over the loss of a parent, and her family's journey through the adoption process. I'll never forget reading a blog post from a friend and fellow "Mormon Mommy", who in heart-breaking and beautiful honesty expressed what it was like to have a stillborn baby. There are blogs from Mormon women who are married, unmarried, in the midst of parenthood, without children, mothers who stay-at-home, mothers who work. This is our cultural experience as Mormon women -- how we can, despite trials and challenges, still find beauty in the everyday and put on a brave, even happy, face as we endure to the end.

That is why we put the temple widget on our blogs that link to the Church's website. No matter how hard life gets, it's our faith, our trust in a loving God, that keeps us going, that keeps us seeking those praiseworthy things. Why wouldn't we want to share that with anyone who will listen? That's one of the reasons I love Stephanie Nielson's blog, The NieNie Dialogues, so much. Sure, she fits some of the descriptions in the Salon article, but there's so much more to her blog. How can a woman, who seems to be given such an unbearable trial, face life with such optimism and joy? Those who have read her blog know -- and I can't blame anyone for being drawn to it, no matter their reasons.

Thoughts on Beginning a New Year, of Broken Resolutions, and Feeling Old

2011-01-11T21:55:00.011-07:00

I realized I haven't posted this year. It's almost mid- January. And to that I say, hooray! January is just one of those months I could do without.

Anyway, it's 2011. A new decade. I can't believe it. I have to tell you, it makes me feel old. As I've said before, I don't want to come across as annoying when I say I feel old when I'm only 28 (though I'll be 29 next month) -- it's like skinny girls who say they need to lose weight (grrrrrr....). But just the other day, we were driving past my alma mater, Utah Valley University, and the thought suddenly popped into my head, "Holy crap! I graduated from college seven years ago." I graduated from high school eleven years ago. This year, I'll be celebrating my eighth wedding anniversary. This year, my baby will turn five. Five! I'm going to become a mother of two (not to say that being a mother to one child is a cakewalk, but having two kids is like...whoa). And 2011 is the last year of my 20s. I swear it was like a couple years ago that I was still living with my parents and spending all my money at Gap and on No Doubt and Weezer CDs. Weird.

In other news, I've already broken a couple resolutions. It was bound to happen, right?

Broken resolution #1
So I made a goal to work on the first draft of my novel EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. It sounds hard, but I set the bar pretty low -- if I wrote even a single sentence, that would count. Yeah, I couldn't do that. Around January 4th or 5th, I got into bed, glanced over at my little blue netbook, and rationalized, "Anything I write when I'm this tired will be deleted tomorrow anyway." Then I feel asleep in like two seconds.

It's been two years now -- two years! -- since I started my first draft. I don't know why it's taking so long, but it is. Everything I've read about writing says that your first draft should be crappy, or, as a friend once told me, like your brain threw up on the page. They say to worry about cleaning it up later. But old habits are hard to break and I'm a perfectionist with stuff like this. And I think that's why resolutions don't really work for me. Once I break one, I struggle to get back on it. It's like when you're on a diet but then slip up and eat something you shouldn't. You admit defeat and before you know it, you've eaten almost half a package of Oreos. What? You've never done that? Huh.

So, sorry if you're sick of hearing about The First Draft. Maybe I'll get it done before baby comes in March. I've only got about...1/3 left of it to write. *sigh*

Broken Resolution #2
The universe keeps reminding me about how important family dinners are. But I'm telling you, when dinnertime rolls around my energy level plummets. I usually conjure something up, but there are also lots of nights where I throw in the towel and go out and get something. Some days I just can't deal with more time in the kitchen or another battle over what I've cooked (the boy isn't necessarily picky, but there are just some things he refuses to try. To my relief, he actually tried -- and liked -- the chicken tikka masala I made tonight). I love to cook, but there are just days I can't do it for the life of me. Is that lame? In any case, I made a goal to cook dinner more regularly and have it all nice at the table.

For the last week of December into the first week of January, I was awesome. It felt so good to be cooking again, especially using the new gadgets and cookbooks I got for Christmas (Kevin got me a pasta maker. It's so cool! And I'm now spoiled because homemade pasta is ridiculously delicious). But then the energy slump kicked in and we hit In-N-Out. Enter the shame of another broken resolution. However, I did make dinner tonight and we ate it at the table. I'm going to sew some cute placemats tomorrow as incentive to keep plugging along.

All that said, the beginning of 2011 hasn't been all that bad. Just a couple days into the year, Kevin got his bonus check from work (home improvements, anyone?). We've also been doing really well with our family scripture reading goal. Plus, I can say now that my due date is in a couple months instead of next year. Best of all, I feel like I have it a little more together and my head is a lot clearer (and less anxious) than it has been in a long time. Maybe that's just a benefit of getting another year older. If so, I welcome the wisdom.

Parenting, Old School Style

2010-12-30T12:11:00.010-07:00

I've engaged in some reckless parenting. Recently, I introduced my son to Guy Smiley, "The Ladybug Picnic", and Mr. Hooper. What do they all have in common? They're from the early (and might I add, awesome) days of Sesame Street.

How is this reckless, you ask?

A few weeks ago, after reading the book, Free-Range Kids (more on that in a moment), I was inspired to rent (how I love Netflix!) Sesame Street: Old School for my son. Just as the author, Lenore Skenazy, mentioned in her book, before the first episode (as in, the very first episode in 1969), there's a warning from an animated character: "These early Sesame Street episodes are intended for adults and may not meet the needs of today's preschooler."

Really. It says that. Early Sesame Street is for adults only.

I couldn't help thinking how my mom's needs (granted, she wasn't technically a preschooler when Sesame Street debuted, but she did watch it as a kid) and my needs as a child (since many of the same clips from the old episodes were aired when I was a kid during the 1980s) were that much different than my four-year-old's. Was I a dumber preschooler than Max? Are his intellectual and developmental needs greater than mine were? Has the alphabet changed in the last thirty years?

Why the disclaimer, then? I think Skenazy put it best in her book:

"Because our view of what children can do and figure out and survive is at its utter nadir. We can't imagine them not hurting themselves in a vacant laot, much less finding their way around the neighborhood without a trusted adult...We don't want them to climb to the top of a jungle gym because we don't trust them to get back down without breaking something. Crawl through a pipe? That's for Indiana Jones. Our belief in our kids is so below-sea-level that when the New York Times asked Sesame Street executive producer Carol Lynn Parente (you cannot make these names up), Why doesn't the DVD include that classic skit where Cookie Monster plays pipe-smoking Alistair Cookie -- and ends up gobbling his pipe? Ms. Parente replied that this was because the skit 'modeled the wrong behavior.'

"Like three-year-olds are really going to start smoking pipes? Or eating them? They're not! Pipes taste bad and are too big to cram into your mouth, and there's only about seven of them left in America anyway. To think of kids as that endangered is to forget a great truth: Children are built to survive."

She nailed it. Our society has little to no confidence that kids can think for themselves or that parents can teach them anything. We have to depend on "experts" to do anything right.

Now, I'll admit something right away: when I found out I was expecting Max almost five years ago, I bought into the idea that I had to do everything a certain way. I read book after book after book after book from parenting experts. I learned a lot. A little bit of what I read helped, but the majority mostly just stressed me out. There were developmental milestones to be met, rare diseases to be aware of, menus to follow, and exacting solutions to sleep problems. I read Parents magazine religiously, freaking myself out on a monthly basis with articles about the lead-laden toys from China, how to properly baby-proof my family room, and the newest symptoms to look out for. I figured being prepared was the only way to parent and I thought I had all the answers.

Nope. Not even close.

It took a while for me to relinquish the parenting books -- I've since gotten rid of most of them -- and just trust my gut. Eventually, I figured out my own way to get Max to sleep in his bed. Potty training? I ended up creating my own method, mostly a hodge-podge of the advice I'd gotten from other moms. I'll be honest: I'm still learning how to do this, trusting my own mothering without double-checking with a book.

I know I'm an overprotective mother, but I'm learning that my son isn't as fragile as I think he is. I don't want to be a "helicopter parent", hovering over his every move. I'm trying to come to terms with the fact that boys are accident-prone. In my family of three brothers, there were broken bones from snowboarding injuries, a busted palate from a run-in on a skateboard, stitches for a half-removed ear from four-wheeling, and even a BB shot into the top of one of my brothers' head. I'm happy to report that all three of my brothers are still alive, though I'm not exactly sure how my mom stayed sane. I know I have to let go -- for my own good and the good of my son (soon to be, sons). The way I've come to terms with it is that I do this letting go gradually. I won't be sending Max off to climb trees alone anytime soon. And he'll always wear a helmet when he rides his bike.

What I loved about Free-Range Kids (seriously, if you have kids, read it) is that it was like a parenting sigh of relief (very similar to when I discovered my favorite, but now defunct, magazine, Wondertime). I could go on and on about the things Skenazy brings up in the book. Like how crime rates, against children in particular, have steadily decreased in the last 15-20 years -- I always thought things were safer when I was a kid, but the crime rate against children was actually higher back then. Or that Ernie Allen, the head of the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children, wants to "debunk the myth of stranger danger" and that telling kids to not talk to strangers is bad advice (Skenazy and Allen both advocate teaching kids not to go off with strangers, recognizing that sometimes kids may, at one time or another, need the help of adults they don't know). I love her argument in favor of eating raw cookie dough (about 0.003% of raw eggs carry salmonella, 1 in 30,000 eggs). I especially reveled in the chapter about trick-or-treating safety concerns, as you can imagine. And that's just skimming the surface - Skenazy, a journalist, researched and interviewed in hopes of debunking all the baseless fears that have been practically programmed into our brains. It's refreshing, to say the least. {To get a taste of what the book is like, check out her blog, FreeRangeKids.}

Kevin and I gave Max Sesame Street: Old School, Volume 1 for Christmas because he absolutely loved the ones we got off Netflix. He sings the songs, laughs his head off at certain parts of the show, and, honestly, seems to get more out of the old episodes than the new ones. The old episodes have Kermit (I always loved the news reporter Kermit), tons of Bert and Ernie skits, plus plenty of Oscar, Cookie Monster, Count, and Grover. For me, it's been a trip down memory lane, for sure (I flipped out a little when I saw this clip when I watched with Max. I clearly remember pining away for a dollhouse just like the one in the clip). Sesame Street was a staple when I was growing up. I love that Max gets to watch what I did when I was his age.

Sure, Prince Charming tells the squawking Rapunzel to "shut up" in one skit (this clip actually edits out the shut up - just as it is fading out, you can see him yelling at her). In another part, Ernie tells Bert that he "hates" Bert's favorite show. Certainly, you wouldn't hear something like that in the new episodes and it isn't particularly nice, but it isn't as damaging as people think. Plus, that's where I come in: if Max starts telling people to shut up, I'll be ready to teach him that it's not nice to say. Disaster averted.

So, yeah, Max watches the old episodes of Sesame Street. Unsupervised, too. Talk about reckless.

Mindful of Mary

2010-12-25T08:36:00.018-07:00

Mariä Wiegenlied by my husband, Kevin

In the entire Bible, I don't think there's anyone, except Jesus, who fascinates me more than Mary does. What kind of person must she have been to be chosen as the mother of the Son of God? How did she do it? We think of her most during the Christmas season, but she was also present at her Son's death. She's as much a part of Easter as she is of Christmas. No doubt she was an incredible woman.

I absolutely love what Elder Jeffrey R. Holland said of Mary in my favorite Christmas article:

"I’ve thought of Mary, too, this most favored mortal woman in the history of the world, who as a mere child received an angel who uttered to her those words that would change the course not only of her own life but also that of all human history: 'Hail, thou virgin, who art highly favoured of the Lord. The Lord is with thee; for thou art chosen and blessed among women.' (JST, Luke 1:28.) The nature of her spirit and the depth of her preparation were revealed in a response that shows both innocence and maturity: 'Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word.' (Luke 1:38.) ...

'The days were accomplished that she should be delivered.

'And she brought forth her firstborn son, and [she] wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and [she] laid him in a manger.' (Luke 2:6–7; italics added.) Those brief pronouns trumpet in our ears that, second only to the child himself, Mary is the chiefest figure, the regal queen, mother of mothers—holding center stage in this grandest of all dramatic moments. And those same pronouns also trumpet that, save for her beloved husband, she was very much alone.

I have wondered if this young woman, something of a child herself, here bearing her first baby, might have wished her mother, or an aunt, or her sister, or a friend, to be near her through the labor. Surely the birth of such a son as this should command the aid and attention of every midwife in Judea! We all might wish that someone could have held her hand, cooled her brow, and when the ordeal was over, given her rest in crisp, cool linen.

But it was not to be so. With only Joseph’s inexperienced assistance, she herself brought forth her firstborn son, wrapped him in the little clothes she had knowingly brought on her journey, and perhaps laid him on a pillow of hay.

Then on both sides of the veil a heavenly host broke into song. 'Glory to God in the highest,' they sang, 'and on earth, peace among men of good will.”'(Luke 2:14, Phillips Translation.) But except for heavenly witnesses, these three were alone: Joseph, Mary, the baby to be named Jesus."

When Kevin said he was going to do a painting of Mary, I was really excited. He actually penned a quick drawing of the pose years ago in his sketchbook, but never finished it. One of our neighbors just had a baby, so he used the two of them as his models. The awesome thing was how quickly the painting came together. I kept peeking as he worked and now that it's finished, I have to say it's one of my favorite things he's ever done.

A week ago, I went to the annual Christmas concert put on by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, with special guests David Archuleta and Michael York. Of all the songs that were sung, one of my favorites was one I'd never heard called "The Cat and Mouse Carol". The lyrics are so simple yet so beautiful, not to mention how well David Archuleta performed it.

When he sang it, I couldn't help but think of this painting, how both the song and the painting captured Mary as a mother, not just a player in the Nativity story. I love thinking of Mary smiling, cradling, nursing, and singing to Baby Jesus. When I think of Mary in a more personal sense like that, the Christmas story takes on even more meaning for me. So, this Christmas, I thought I would share not only one of my favorite paintings by my husband, but the words to that song, too.

The Cat and Mouse Carol
By Ted Hutchinson

"Said the cat to the mouse, in their dark little house,
In that stable so long ago,
'I am wondering why that bright star in the sky
Is shining upon us down below.'

CHORUS: And the night skies rang, as the angels sang,
When Love came down to the earth;
And the night skies rang, as the angels sang,
When the Baby King had his birth.

Said the mouse to the cat, as in wonder they sat,
And they saw Mary’s face filled with joy,
'Perhaps that star we can see is to tell you and me,
Of the coming of this precious little boy.'

Sleepy shepherds they saw as they crept through the door
And they brought little gifts to the child.
As they gazed with love on the child from above,
Mary turned to the shepherds and smiled.

So they happily sat, little mouse, little cat,
As they heard Mary singing to her son,
As she cradles with care, little Jesus so fair,
This baby, the Lord’s chosen one."

Merry Christmas! God be thanked for the gift of His Son!

Doubled

2010-12-22T17:08:00.008-07:00

Photo of Max and me by Lauriann Wakefield

Nothing could have prepared me for how I felt on that early October morning in 2006. Nothing. For nine months, I prayed, worried, anticipated, yearned, and hoped for a healthy baby. I waited and waited, uncomfortable, moody, and eventually a week overdue.

Then my baby was born. All those months I carried him inside, I thought I loved him. And I did, to some extent, but not even close to the way I loved him after the doctor placed him in my arms. It was a love that was more powerful than any I'd experienced: frightening on one hand ('They're letting me leave with him? By myself?!") and enormously sacred on the other. That raw maternal love, mixed with the post-birth endorphins and happy hormones, was beyond blissful. I made that baby. Somehow, my body knew how to grow him. And now he was here, perfect, and I loved him more than I thought a person could love anyone or anything.

Who knew that same maternal bond would grow and grow, that I would come to love him more with each passing day. Over the past four years, I've seen the love for my boy change me. It has made me more patient. It has made me more determined. It has made me a little more selfless. It has made me anxious. Really, really anxious. My life revolves around this little boy -- he is my day in and day out -- and I want to do everything right. That's when the guilt kicks in. None of those stupid parenting books I read (all of which I've since gotten rid of) before I had the boy mentioned anything about 'mommy guilt.'

So why am I mentioning all of this? Because I'm about to confess a fear I've had since July, when I found out I was expecting again:

How on earth do you love another child as much as you love your first? How does one handle it?

I've asked my mom this countless times. She simply assures me that "you just do". I know she's right -- my parents don't play favorites. They just don't. When my mom says she loves each of her kids as much as she loves the other, I know it. But does she love them all the same way?

I think of all the people I love in my life. The way I love my husband is unlike any other love I've known. I love my son, but in an entirely different way than anyone else. I love my parents equally, but I love them as individuals differently. I love all three of my younger brothers, but I love them all differently, too. With each of my brothers, I have a set of memories and feelings attached to each of them that constitutes how I love them. Is that how it works with multiple children? Do you love them each in a different way based on your experience with them?

I'm more than ready to be done with this pregnancy. Words can't express my gratitude for the pregnancy, but it has taken a toll on me. Mostly emotionally and mentally. And while I can't wait to have baby #2 here, I'm so nervous to have another child. Can I deal with all the feelings I have for my one child doubled? I can deal with the all the happy, warm-fuzzy feelings being doubled, but what about the anxiety, the guilt, the protectiveness, the uncertainty?

I guess it's all a leap of faith. Almost eight years ago, I married my husband. It felt right, I knew I was supposed to marry him. That didn't mean I wasn't a little nervous, that my heart didn't start racing the second I saw the Manti temple come into view on that summer afternoon. I didn't know what it was like to be married. How grateful I am that I leapt with faith. It took faith to have Max, to try to have a baby just months after the trauma of miscarriage, and I did it. Whenever I've taken a leap of faith, it's often been rewarded. So, here I am, once again on a precipice. Obviously, there's no turning back. I'm having this baby in March no matter what. I guess it just boils down to how I leap.

Now If Only I Had a Fireplace to Read By...

2010-12-11T01:06:00.008-07:00

I've never actually read Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol. This could be due, in part, to the fact that I'm not a huge fan of British literature. Don't get me wrong, there's some really awesome stuff from across the pond, but I don't love Brit lit like I love the American stuff. Plus, Dickens' writing is a little too wordy for me (did you know he got paid by the word? Explains a lot.). In any case, I feel a little ashamed I haven't read this Christmas classic, especially as it is part of our collective cultural consciousness. Think about it -- isn't it weird that somebody came up with that story, that someone made up the name Ebenezer Scrooge? It feels like that story has always been around, like it's been told for a thousand years. And now I'm rambling.

Anyway, as I was thinking about how I've haven't read the Christmas classic of Christmas classics, I got to thinking about a few of my favorite Christmas books and I thought I'd share them. {P.S. - I know I've forgotten some great ones and I'm sure there are others I've never read, so please tell me about some of your favorites!}

The Santa Claus Book

Unfortunately, I didn't know about this book when I was a kid. If I had, I would have read this book cover to cover, pouring over each page, trying to pull every ounce of information I could from it. To put it another way, I would have treated it the same way Kevin did when he was a kid.

This book is a complete guide to all things Santa: who he is, where he came from, why he lives at the North Pole, who the elves are, how he gets all the toys in his sleigh, how he gets to everyone's houses in one night, and more. The author, Alden Perkes, is a Ph.D.S., so he's a Santa expert. The book is written like a reference book, full of questions and answers, diagrams, charts, and great illustrations. This book has all the answers. I would have loved it as a kid; I'm glad I know about it now so I can pass it on to my little guy.

Mr. Willowby's Christmas Tree

This book is another that I discovered as an adult. When I worked for Barnes & Noble, one of the job requirements as community relations manager was to conduct storytimes twice a week. Having pretty much skipped picture books as a child (I went almost straight to novels once I knew how to read), I had to acquaint myself with all the Christmas picture books. I found a few great ones, a lot of just-okay ones, and a bunch of crappy ones. Mr. Willowby's Christmas Tree was one of the great ones I came across. Not only did I find the story charming, but the kids I read it aloud to also enjoyed it.

The book is about a rich man who gets a huge Christmas tree, only to find that it's too tall to fit. So, the top gets cut off and thrown away. The maid fishes the top of the tree from the trash, takes it to her room, and as she's about to decorate it, she notices it's just a little too tall, so she cuts off the top and throws it out. As you can probably guess, that top is found and used and so on and so on. The kids I would read it to loved seeing how far the tree could go - just when they thought it couldn't get any smaller, it did. I love this little story, as well as the illustrations.

How the Grinch Stole Christmas

I wonder if I really even need to go into the reasons why I love this Christmas book. Probably not. Who doesn't know and love the story of the Grinch? That Dr. Seuss truly had a gift.

The Life of Our Lord

I may not have read A Christmas Carol, but my list still includes a book by Dickens. This isn't a Christmas book, per se, but I always think of it as such. Probably because my mom gave it out to everyone as a Christmas present a few years ago. It also reminds me of Christmas because I read from it every day to Max four years ago, during his very first December whenever I nursed him. Now that I have my voice back, I'm going to start reading at bedtime again and I think this is what I'll pick for this month.

For those not familiar with this book, it's a sweet, simple telling of the life of Christ. Dickens wrote it exclusively for his children and refused to have it published in his lifetime. There's something really innocent and tender about the way he tells the story of Jesus, from His birth to the Resurrection. In my mind, it's the perfect read-aloud for the Christmas season.

The Best Christmas Pageant Ever

When I thought of writing this post, the first book I thought of was this one. I can't even tell you how many times one of my teachers read it or how many times I read it on my own. Every year, when I pull out boxes of Christmas decorations, movies, and books, I can't help but flip through this book when I come across it. I still read it almost every year.

As a kid, I thought the Herdman kids were hilarious (and a little scary) and I loved reading about the chaos that followed them. But more than that, I love the ending of the book. The angel shouting at the shepherds, the wise men beating each other up, and, of course, the Herdman depiction of Mary. The ending is neither preachy nor predictable. Instead, it's touching and poignant. Totally a Christmas classic, in my opinion.

The Night Before Christmas
I almost didn't include this one because it seemed so obvious and technically it's a poem, not a book. But then I thought about a couple things. First, the beautifully illustrated telling of the poem my mother-in-law gave us this year, and second, I remembered how much this poem meant to me as a kid.

When I was little, we always listened to the poem on Christmas Eve. My parents used to have an old phonograph and they had a record (seriously, from the 30s or 40s) of the poem. We'd listen to the scratchy recording on Christmas Eve as a family and I would imagine the scenes in the poem happening at my house. In my young mind, the way the events played out in Clement Moore's poem was exactly how Santa worked. I could practically see Santa coming to my living room (except for the chimney part, since we didn't have a traditional chimney. To our relief, Dad always put the housekey under the mat at the front door.), leaving our presents, and eating our cookies. That poem almost felt like my evidence of Santa.

So when Kevin's mom gave us this edition of The Night Before Christmas, illustrated by Tom Browning, and when I finally flipped through it, I was mesmerized. The paintings are absolutely beautiful, but more than that, the pictures capture how I imagined everything. The way Browning depicts Santa is just how I imagined him to look. One of my favorite things about Browning's depiction of Santa is how he shows him taking his time at the house, carefully brushing off his soot-covered suit, looking around the room at the decorations, and admiring the toys he's putting under the tree.

I don't mean to sound overly sentimental, but there's something really special about the paintings in this edition. Turning through the pages conjured up all the feelings I'd had once, reminding me of the wonder and sincere belief of my childhood, of those Christmas nights when I couldn't sleep because Santa coming to my house, just like he had in the poem. That's what I love about a great Christmas book -- those timeless feelings of wonder, of reverence for the spiritual side of the season, of the joy of giving, and simple delight of celebration are there, to be read and relived over and over again.

Warning: This Christmas Post May Offend

2010-12-08T11:58:00.035-07:00

Let me just tell you how offended I was the other night. It was an outrage, pure and simple. Yeah *cough*, an outrage.

Last week, I was fighting this mutant virus that left my entire head pounding and congested (yet I had a runny nose -- how is this possible?), weak, shivering, and with a screaming sore throat. I still don't have my voice entirely back. Couple all that with the fact that I couldn't drown my troubles and enjoy a NyQuil induced coma. Yep, the only medicine I took was cough drop after cough drop. On the worst night of my sickness, I had to pick up my husband from work. As if trying to drive whilst shivering through cold chills wasn't bad enough, I had to go grocery shopping. We were out of everything. And I was absolutely determined to have homemade chicken noodle soup {May I just say, I make a pretty awesome pot of homemade chicken soup. I even made the stock for it that night, though my loving husband did most of the work.}

Okay, where was I going with this? Oh yeah, the offense of offenses, the complete affront I witnessed the other night.

As I was moving as quickly as I could through the aisles of Sunflower Market, filling my basket with orange juice concentrate, honey, lemons, and the ingredients for my soup, I saw something that stopped me in my tracks. On one of the store's endcap displays was, of all things, a menorah. A menorah!! Can you believe it? I mean, I'm not Jewish. Why should I have to see that display? {Hope you can tell that I'm laying the sarcasm on pretty thick here.}

I can't even type any more of that paragraph because I can't pretend to be offended by something like that. When I actually saw the menorah display, I thought, "How nice."

Truth is, I wasn't even close to being offended by the Jewish holiday display. I mean, Hanukkah is being celebrated right now. Why shouldn't we see a menorah out on display? I think the Jewish culture and religion is really interesting. My son's pediatrician is Jewish and we absolutely love him. He's one of the nicest and funniest people I've met -- I wish he was my doctor! So, when I saw the menorah, I thought of Dr. Pete celebrating the second night of Hanukkah with his family. Absolutely no offense taken. My religious beliefs and my idea of seasonal celebration were never threatened. End of story. No big deal.

However, I think my fake reaction to the menorah display illustrates how ludicrous being offended by a holiday really is. Kind of like how a Pennsylvania town just got rid of its nativity scene, one that's been put up annually for 57 years, because it could be "disrespectful to citizens who aren't Christian." Totally ridiculous. What kind of person gets all worked up about Baby Jesus in a display?

I read a quote today, attributed to Dennis Prager (a Jewish radio host) who said something to the effect, "To be offended by a religious holiday because it's not your own is like being offended at a birthday party because it's not your birthday." He's right. It just seems so petty to be offended by something like a holiday. That's what makes my fake anti-menorah paragraph so ridiculous. I'm all for being sensitive - I'll tell people I don't know "Happy Holidays", but not out of fear or shame. "Happy Holidays" is fine; the trouble is when we use the term 'holiday' as a complete replacement for Christmas out of fear of offense and in the name of political correctness.

Is there anyone truly offended by the term Christmas? Apparently so, or Lowe's wouldn't have had its infamous 'family tree' (instead of Christmas tree) section a few years ago. A few years ago, as part of my job as manager at large bookstore chain, I was in charge of decorating the front window. Before I did, though, I was told that we couldn't feature anything Christmas related for our holiday display. I couldn't even use the colors red or green. Sure, the bookstore was in a predominantly Christian community. We sold Christmas books, music, and movies, and we even played Christmas music over the PA system, but a Christmas window display would have been a visual slur to any non-Christian shopper, right? Schools have also sterilized the season, cracking down on singing certain religiously themed carols and tiptoeing carefully around the word "Christmas". Some don't even call the break from school, a break that coincides with the actual date of December 25th, "Christmas break". How have we gotten to this place where we can't even use the word Christmas?

Which brings me to another inspiration for this post. I'm sure many of you have seen the awesome YouTube video of the food court flash mob singing Handel's "Hallelujah Chorus". I've lost track of how many times I've watched it. I love that song. I still remember my alto part from when we sang it in high school. Singing that song in a choir was a profoundly spiritual experience for me when I was teenager. I love watching the video of that talented group of singers transforming a boring food court into something transcendently beautiful. Handel was truly inspired by God when he wrote his Messiah. {Check out this article about Handel's life and how he came to write his famous work. Amazing.}

The video has been viewed almost 14 million times; over 34,000 people have hit the like button for it. A small minority, just over 800, hit the dislike button. You can scroll through the comments and amidst the praise for the video, there are slurs against religion and Christmas. Like the commenter saying how he'd be mad about a bunch of religious nutjobs disturbing his lunch. Lame. It's interesting how our society, one that supposes itself to be so educated, tolerant, and culturally enlightened, can still write off entire groups of people as 'nutjobs' or ignorant because they have religious beliefs. I've been told to my face that I'm naive and brainwashed because I'm a religious person and, to make matters even worse, a Mormon. *gasp!*

So when a video of a religious nature becomes popular, there are always those eager to slander or dismiss it. And so be it. Some people just want to be negative. Whatever. However, when those same people act infringed upon because others choose to express their religious feelings publicly during a religious seaon, it's just annoying. They can be miserable and critical. Fine. But don't bring the rest of us down.

So who wants to keep Christmas politically correct? I think it's the same people who disregard religious people, the same people who scoff at a belief in a divine power, the same people who mock the idea of religion and God as nothing more than a fairy tale. I don't mean to say that anyone who's atheist is anti-Christmas. Not at all. That said, we shouldn't have to make Christmas a beige holiday with only 'Jingle Bells' to accompany it just to keep everyone placated. Why should such easily offended people rain on everyone else's parade? Furthermore, why are we listening to them?

Personally, I don't think that many people find the thought of Christmas so bad. I'm almost positive (I mean, I've never asked him so I can only assume) that our Jewish pediatrician doesn't recoil at the mention of the Christian holiday or if someone wishes him a Merry Christmas. I know that if someone wished me a Happy Hanukkah, it would catch me off guard, but I certainly wouldn't mind.

Like most people in the Western world, I'm beyond excited to celebrate Christmas. If I'd been in that mall in Canada, I would have joined the flash mob with my shaky alto part. I love walking through stores and hearing the Christmas songs. I'm so thankful that we have a month to reflect on the glorious gift of our Savior, Jesus Christ, and how he came to this earth on that night in Bethlehem. The Christmas season is a miraculous one because it not only focuses on the Savior, but it often brings out the best of people in an often reluctant world. And that, no matter your religious persuasion (or lack thereof), is worth celebrating.

A Few Things on My {Scattered} Mind

2010-11-30T11:19:00.011-07:00

It's well past Veterans Day and, as much as I love the veterans out there, I figure it's time to post something new here. I was going to do a book review about this great book I just finished, but I think I'll wait. My brain hasn't been all it usually is (blame the hormones) and I'm not sure if a book review would be so coherent right now. (For example, you should have seen how I just struggled typing 'coherent'. Conherent. Coneret. Cohrent. Kinda ironic.)

So, I figured I'd write a list of the things that have been on my mind lately. It may be rambling, but it's something new.

1. I'm doing a sort of Facebook "fast" (not that it's anything spiritual -- just a sucker for alliteration). I'm not entirely sure why I decided to except that I felt I was wasting way too much time checking other people's statuses, looking at pictures of people I don't know that well, and taking those scientific quizzes (by the way, did you know that my true calling in life is to be a lawyer? Or if I worked on the president's cabinet, I'd be the Chief of Staff? Those quizzes may be misspelled, but I'm just sure they're accurate). And besides being a time-waster, I just felt like it got negative so many times. I got so tired of hearing people complain about the weather (It's winter, people! Deal with it!), their kids, their jobs, their health. Blah.

Don't get me wrong, I think Facebook is kind of fun. It's easy to stay in touch with relatives and friends. Through it, I got a hold of my childhood friend that I hadn't seen in nearly twenty years. That said, now that I haven't been on Facebook for well over a week, I just feel a little better. I think I was comparing myself to other people too much on there. I've pulled a little back on the blogging for the same reason (though not so much -- I love to check out my friends' and some helpful blogs still). So many people seem to have everything so together and I feel like I'm the complete opposite. As a result, I just beat myself up for not being as crafty/smart/clean/organized/pretty/well-dressed/happy as everyone else. Taking a break from the computer has helped me cut myself some slack. Serenity now!

2. My son has recently discovered live-action Disney movies from the 1960s. As a result, I've developed a minor crush on Dean Jones. There, I said it.

It all started with That Darn Cat. I only let Max watch one movie a day and he watched it every day for a while. He would walk around reciting one of his favorite parts, acting as theatrical as Roddy McDowall does in it and even saying to our cat, "Bad, bad cat. Aahh." just like Hayley Mills does in the show. (Quick aside: love that movie, but it kinda creeps me out how much the kidnapped lady in it looks like post-plastic surgery Michael Jackson. To see what I mean, go to this link and go to about the 8:30 mark. Totally distracting.)

Then the boy moved on to The Love Bug, driving his little cars all around the family room as he watched. Currently, he loves The Absent-Minded Professor (which he calls, "The Flying Car Movie"). In fact, he's watching it as I'm typing right now and is laughing his little head off. It's been a ton of fun watching these movies again and it brings back memories. I watched them as a kid but kind of forgot about them until we ordered them through Kevin's work (since he works for Disney, we get a deal on DVD's and such). I wonder what I'll introduce next. Son of Flubber? Swiss Family Robinson? One of those old Kurt Russell Disney movies? Any suggestions are welcome.

3. I never, never, never want to come off as ungrateful, but I'm totally a mess with this whole pregnancy thing. I'm a big, weepy, uncomfortable mess and I'm only 24 weeks along. Let me say now, it's a pet peeve of mine when people complain about being pregnant publicly because I know that there are others who can't have a baby or who have suffered pregnancy losses (I know first-hand how gut-wrenching it can be to hear others complain about being pregnant after you've suffered a loss and how it feels to be wishing you had all those problems). So I'm not complaining. But I cry at the drop of a hat now. I'm anxious, self-conscious, self-doubting (can I really handle two boys?), achy, and I don't know if I'll make it until March without going nuts.

4. I still really want to learn to knit. I think it may make me less crazy as I wait for baby boy #2. Last year, I spent an hour or so with a friend of my sister-in-law's and I got the general idea, but it takes me forever to learn something new. Whenever one of my favorite bloggers, SouleMama, mentions knitting, I get so envious. Plus, I saw this awesome book at Barnes & Noble a couple weeks ago and I want to do every project in it. Trouble is, I've got to learn how to knit first. Anyone out there know how?

5. I don't feel that stressed out about the Christmas season this year. I feel totally content with doing the best I can. We've got our Christmas budget in order and everything pretty much figured out. Watch, I've just jinxed myself by typing this and now our refrigerator will stop working or something...

6. Speaking of Christmas stuff, I'm making gingerbread cookies with the boy today. And not to brag or anything, but I happen to have a really, really good recipe my mom got from a pastry chef. I'll post the recipe soon on my frugal blog, I promise.

7. First draft still isn't done. I'm making hardly any progress. I have to finish it before March. It's a moral imperative.

8. Last week, we went and saw the new Disney movie, Tangled. I loved it. A lot. I was kind of ambivalent about seeing it but now I realize that the movie was marketed totally wrong. When I saw the first trailer, complete with a song by Pink, I thought it was going to be this telling of the Rapunzel story with a modern twist. Kind of like the Shrek movies (which I don't really like in the first place), full of pop culture references. Plus, I'm all for girls being assertive, but I didn't want to watch a Rapunzel movie about girl power and how her hair could beat guys up. But being the loyal Disney geek that I am, we went to see it anyway. It's not how I thought it would be at all. It's way, way better. It's actually reminiscent of the musical Disney fairy tale movies we grew up with. The characters are great, the art and animation are beautiful, and the story is much better than I expected. Go see it. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised.

9. I love the snow. I've always liked winter -- that is, until mid-February. I don't know why, but it kind of makes me giddy to get up in the morning and see everything covered in snow. This could be due, in part, to the fact I don't have to drive in it. But still, I love it. Last week, we were supposed to get this epic blizzard. People came home from work early. Schools shut down. People stocked up on batteries. Then the blizzard blew in and out, leaving only a skiff of snow. Totally disappointing. Thankfully, we got a good amount this weekend. I love bundling up the boy and watching him have a blast. And I love bringing him in, helping him get all unbundled, and making him a cup of hot chocolate, just like my mom always did.

10. I was going to do a post last week about all the things I'm thankful for, but didn't. So, I'll just mention a few right now for kicks: my husband, my son, the baby coming into our family (despite the crazy hormones), my mom and dad, my crazy brothers, my religious beliefs, America, freedom, my health, my husband's job (and that I get to stay home), our home, our car, our awesome neighbors and friends, my five senses, books, indoor plumbing, Indian food, Disneyland (and that we get to go for free), sleep,egg nog, and anything that makes me laugh. Like I said, just to name a few.

Thankful Thursday -- In Honor of Veterans Day

2010-11-11T10:33:00.000-07:00

"We’re gathered today, just as we have gathered before, to remember those who served, those who fought, those still missing, and those who gave their last full measure of devotion for our country… One of those who fell wrote, shortly before his death, these words: ‘Take what they have left and what they have taught you with their dying and keep it with your own. And take one moment to embrace those gentle heroes you left behind.’ Well, today, Veterans Day, as we do every year, we take that moment to embrace the gentle heroes of Vietnam and of all our wars. We remember those who were called upon to give all a person can give, and we remember those who were prepared to make that sacrifice if it were demanded of them in the line of duty, though it never was. Most of all, we remember the devotion and gallantry with which all of them ennobled their nation as they became champions of a noble cause… Our liberties, our values, all for which America stands is safe today because brave men and women have been ready to face the fire at freedom’s front. And we thank God for them.” – Ronald Reagan

Back in 2008, at the Vietnam War Memorial.

The way my family lives, the peace we enjoy, is due, in large part, to the veterans of this country, both living and dead. I'm forever grateful and indebted to the men and women who have given so much in the name of freedom. I hope I can live in a way that is deserving of their sacrifice.

The Conclusion of My Cub Scouting Adventure...For Now

2010-11-08T17:52:00.017-07:00

If you can identify the picture above you either, A) have a boy aged 8-10; B) have had brothers once aged 8-10; or C) are a seasoned den leader in the Cub Scout organization. I can answer yes to two of those. I still have four years until the boy is in Cub Scouts, though.

In case you haven't followed my blog since my scouting adventure began, here were some of my thoughts at the very beginning, back in January 2009:

In our new ward, Kevin and I have been called to be Webelos Den Leaders (hee hee, I'm a den mother...). Don't get me wrong - I think Cub Scouts are a great thing. I'm all for boys being boys . . . However, I know next to nothing about Scouts except for my experience with my brothers: patches on uniforms, boring pack meetings, and grown men in ridiculous costumes (my favorite was seeing the ultra-nerdy guy in our home ward wearing a poorly made Native American costume, while still wearing his big, round glasses). On top of that, I just went to the Cub Scout basic training for four hours (thank you for your pity) yesterday and, being the people watcher I am, couldn't help gawking at all the adults in full-fledged uniforms, decorated in a bunch of patches, loops, beads, and necklaces (even some women were dressed like this). I kept thinking, 'How am I going to make this work for me?' I'm still not sure, but I do know that I'm going to do the best I can since I'll want my son's leaders to do the same someday. And don't worry, I'll be posting a picture of me in my Scout uniform shirt soon. Maybe I should conduct a poll on whether I should get the shorts or the gaucho pants..."

Remember the gaucho pants? If not, here's the picture again (you're welcome):

A couple weeks ago, our bishop called us into his office and released us from our calling as Webelos leaders. I won't lie, part of me was certainly glad. No more den and pack meetings! But at the same time, I felt a twinge of sadness. So I thought it would be fitting after nearly two years of den mothering (still cracks me up that I was actually a 'den mother') to recount my experiences and some of the things I learned along the way...

1. Homemade cookies go a long way in getting 10-year-old boys motivated. I also tried a lot of recipes.
Before almost every den meeting, Max and I baked cookies or some other kind of treat. Max and I love to bake. It so happened that the boys liked to eat whatever we baked. So if I told them they could only have cookies if they brought their scout books, it usually worked. Granted, I'm a softie and would give the boys who 'forgot' theirs one, too (but the boys who did bring them got however many they wanted). After a while, the boys seemed to tire of chocolate chip cookies (I even had one of my newer Webelos tell me that he didn't like chocolate chips. He liked chocolate, but not chocolate chips) so I tried new and different recipes. Some of them bombed. The boys didn't care. At all.

2. My four-year-old son is going to have scouting withdrawals.
I partly felt sad to be released from scouting because Max loved having the Webelos come over. He honestly thought he was one of them. He did the activities with them and tried to play with them (10-year-olds think Buzz Lightyear is the coolest character ever, right?). The boys were always so patient with him and played with him until he was deliriously happy. Then there was Cub Scout day camp -- we took Max with us this year and he was in heaven. Don't even get me started on how much he loved the Pinewood Derby (as pictured above). We'll probably go to that pack meeting next year even though we're not in scouts, he loved it so much. So, yeah, I'm a little sad for Max. He'll miss the Cub Scouts.

3. Speaking of the Pinewood Derby...
I had no idea how much people really get into the Pinewood Derby until I was a den leader. I mean, they really get into it and I don't just mean the kids; some of the adults were hardcore. Kevin was in charge of weighing the cars and there were a few dads carefully watching the scales. If they came in under the regulation weight, they quickly attached more lead weights and re-weighed them. It was fine-tuning like I'd never seen! And then there was the guy who brought the racing track. I don't know where they found this character, but he was this middle-aged man with super-hairy arms and golden bracelets, wearing an official Pinewood Derby racing polo shirt, on an ego trip. "This track cost me $1500. Do you touch this track? No, you do not! Do you walk over it? Not if you want to race, you don't!" and so on. He gave a 20-minute lecture about respecting his track and then proceeded to chart the results as if it were Nascar or something. Intense. As my friend put it, he was a walking SNL skit. Chris Farley would have played him perfectly.

4. You just gotta admire some people's commitment, as embarrassing as it can be.

Since we worked with the oldest of the Cub Scouts, we were responsible for helping the boys earn the Arrow of Light. For those not familiar with the program, it's basically like the Eagle Scout of the Cub Scouts. Anyway, whenever one of the boys got theirs, they would pay like $15 for a guy to come from the Order of the Arrow. Yes, there is a group of men who really take the Arrow of Light seriously. The guy would come, dress in Native American garb, and, with his drum in hand, walk around the room, chanting and singing (the picture above is not him -- though definitely the same kind of spirit). Did I mention it's an old, white guy doing this? Once his song was done, he made his way to the front of the group and began telling legends in a dramatic voice, as if it was true, scouting lore. The adults in the room looked at each other as if to say, "Is this guy for real?" To be honest, I wasn't quite sure. He certainly seemed convinced.

5. Boys can find fun in just about anything.
One of the requirements for the Handyman pin was to properly wash a car. The boys were more than excited to wash our cars. Picking up trash in a vacant lot for the Naturalist pin? They turned it into a competition and had a blast. A catapault made from a shoebox, spoon, pencil, and rubber bands? They didn't want to stop launching marshmallows. Getting pocket knives at the trading post at day camp? The ulitmate highlight for them. I absolutely loved the age of the boys we worked with -- they were older and able to understand more, but they still had that childlike enthusiasm.

6. Being a den leader had its rewarding moments.
Not all the boys got into it, but there were a few that made all of our preparations worth it. Seeing the boys get enthusiastic about learning and experiencing new things was so much fun. One of my favorite scouts was a boy named Landon. His mom told me that he'd never been interested in scouting, but, for some reason, he suddenly wanted to do it once he started with us. He was awesome -- he went from not knowing a single thing about the program to working his way up through all the badges (even doing some at home on his own time), and eventually earning his Arrow of Light. I felt this surge of pride. Same goes for our other Arrow of Light scout, Brayden. It was neat to share that accomplishment with them.
And it wasn't just the Arrow of Light. It was so much fun to cheer our little den members on at pack meeting when they got awards and recognitions. It's so much fun to see their pride as they claim their awards. Maybe this whole scouting thing wasn't so bad, after all...

7. I'd do it again.
Now, I'm not one of those people who will ever dress up as an Indian or work for the council and organize anything serious. But, if I'm ever called to work in the scouts again, I will do it gladly. I've said it over and over again, but I feel so passionately that boys need, more than ever, outlets for creativity and growth, places where they can just be boys. Society, in many ways, is working against them -- curriculum and teaching methods in schools are often geared more toward the girls, recess is being phased out in certain parts of the country, more boys are raised in homes without fathers, role models for boys are hard to come by, and safe places for them to just play are often restricted. Their boyishness and energy is often written off as hyperactive and destructive; instead, it's how they learn.

As I raise my own boy (and as I'm expecting a second one), I'm understanding boys more and more. They are bundles of energy, to be sure, but underneath that is something so beautiful and tender. They're tough on the exterior, but not as much on the inside. The way boys view the world, the way they attack it without reserve and as if it is adventure is a way I wish I could live. I love them. I'm glad I'm going to have at least a couple of my own to raise. They definitely make life interesting.

Not that I ever get political on here...

2010-11-01T12:02:00.018-06:00

Tomorrow is Election Day. And if you've read this blog for any extended period of time, you know how I feel about voting. I think it's one of the most important things you can do, if not the most important thing, as a citizen.

I understand some of the qualms people have about voting: How can you be sure you're voting for the right person? How do you know that they aren't all lying? Are you voting for just the lesser of two evils? It can get complicated. I understand apathy when it comes to politics, especially when it comes to politicians.

Here's what I wrote a few months ago about voting. I figure I can repeat it because my feelings haven't changed:

"I love voting. I firmly believe in it. A lot of people say the United States is a democracy. They are wrong. The United States of America is a republic. That's why, on Election Day, it's so crucial to vote for our representatives. A democracy is a form of government where the people directly decide policy through hall meetings, ballots, and referendums. A republic is different because it is a system where we choose representatives who make policy decisions on our behalf. The Founders did this for a reason. In the Federalist papers, James Madison wrote, that pure democracies 'have ever been spectacles of turbulence and contention; have ever been found incompatible with personal security or the rights of property; and have in general been as short in their lives as they have been violent in their deaths' (Federalist No. 10).

Voting is crucial to our form of government. It is our voice, it is our say. If we don't speak up when our representatives are chosen, we lose an important opportunity. Because we choose our representatives, they work for us. Every time I vote, I feel a surge of pride. As a woman, especially, I feel a deep gratitude to vote -- out of the millions of women who have walked this earth, women who have largely been ignored, I actually get to have my voice heard. Sure, sometimes I don't feel like it makes a difference and sometimes I vote for a third-party, well aware that the person I'm voting for won't win, but I love being able to draw my line in the sand and, with my vote, say, 'I have listened to the arguments. I have done my research. Here is where I stand.'"

In that same post, I wrote that if I'd lived at the turn of the last century, I would have been a suffragist. I just know it. Call me cheesy, but even the "Sister Suffragette" song in Mary Poppins gets to me. Ninety years ago this past August, women were given the Constitutional right to vote.
As I mentioned previously, after so many women have been denied a voice, it doesn't sit right with me not to share mine through my vote. So, I'll be one of the first at the polls tomorrow morning. And like in elections past, I'm going to take my son with me so he can experience it first-hand.

That said, I think this election is important. That's not to say that every election isn't important, but I think this year is interesting. I see it as a sort of referendum on how people feel about the direction of the country.

So where do I stand this Election Day?

Anyone who knows me or reads this blog knows that I'm no fan of President Obama. I've done my research from various sources and I've looked at the numbers. Yet, I'm labeled as ignorant. It drives me nuts that since I disagree with the president's policies and the way he governs I am, as the author Gore Vidal recently put it, "a small-town enem[y] of everybody." Basically, if I disagree with the president, I'm a small-town, racist simpleton. Or, as other people like to call people like me, I'm a "teabagger". Since I disagree with the president, I'm worth comparing to a Nazi or to someone who, as one congressman said, "regrets the outcome of the Civil War" and wants to go back to days of the Confederacy. Funny, since I've been enamored with African-American history from my early grade school days to the end of my four years in college, when I studied intensively and wrote my thesis about the importance of the African-American female narrative.

But I digress...

I disagree with the President and the Congress that has spent over $3 trillion since January 2009. I am the first to admit that George W. Bush opened the spending floodgates by racking up nearly $5 trillion in his two terms. Granted, he did it in 96 months; Obama has added $3 trillion in 21. As I always quote Daniel Hannan, "You can't spend your way out of recession or borrow your way out of debt." When there are financial problems in a family or in a business, people cut back.

Instead, the President and Congress think they can defy logic and spend more to help our economic woes. It won't work. Instead, give the private sector some room and the economy will fix itself. We've seen, in less than a couple years, the massive spending packages and an overhaul of health care. Government was never meant to be this big or encompassing. It is in our founding documents that the powers of government, the intrusion of it in our lives, was never meant to be what it is now. That's why I think leadership needs to change in Washington -- on both sides of the political spectrum. Both Republicans and Democrats have gotten us into the mess we're in.

For those in my district, I'll mention the most contested vote and say I'm voting for Morgan Philpot over the incumbent Jim Matheson. I'll admit right now, I've voted for Matheson before. I honestly thought that he was fiscally conservative enough; I liked how he refused pay raises and how he stood up against nuclear testing in our state. But in the last while, he's shown who he really is: a politican instead of a statesman.

Matheson is disingenuous -- one thing that really bugs me is how he's based entire ads about how he voted against the health care bill, yet he voted for the 'slaughter solution' that even allowed the bill to go to a vote. He did vote no for the bill, but not after waffling back and forth. He voted no on the bill, but was one of the last to do so; just until the bill had enough to pass without him. He also voted for the stimulus bill and to adjourn Congress before the election recess without even voting about the Bush tax cuts. With the Democratic majority, why would they shy away from such a vote? Simple -- they knew the public would disapprove of them not extending the cuts and it would hurt their re-election efforts. They didn't want to be held accountable for their votes until after the election when it couldn't hurt them.

I'm not a person against negative campaign ads, but some of Matheson's tactics are less than honest. Like the mailer he sent out that said Philpot wanted to have a "23% national state tax". That's fine for him to bring up, as long as it is in context. Truth is Philpot has said that he supports getting rid of the income tax and instituting a sales tax instead. The "Fair Tax" is not a new idea. And the 23% is a number the Matheson campaign came up with. As for the other issues in the ads against Philpot, they are also a stretch. Like the tax lien issue -- according to an article in the Deseret News, Philpot had missed paying $165.28 in state taxes from 2002, which he paid a month after receving the tax notice. Wow. Scandal. If you research, you see that a lot of these claims are out of context and frankly show that Matheson is grasping at straws. If his lead is so overwhelming, why does he have to take the offense for the first time? He's never gone negative before. His record should speak for himself.

I've gone on long enough. Do the research yourself and make your own decisions. This is only my opinion and, as always, take it for what it's worth. In the end, if you feel confident about your decision, whether I agree or not, vote. It truly is, as Thedore Hesburgh said, "a civic sacrament."

Trick or Treating Forever: 10 Arguments for the End of Trunk or Treating

2010-10-27T21:47:00.015-06:00

I won't beat around the bush: trunk or treating is beyond stupid. If you participate in this perversion of Halloween tradition, shame on you. But don't worry: admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery. Make a commitment to stop NOW. Why, you ask? Let me elaborate about why you should join the resistance against trunk or treating...

10. The name makes absolutely no sense. Furthermore, it just sounds dumb.
Correct me if I'm wrong, but the phrase "trick or treat" is a sort of ultimatum. Granted, it's an ultimatum most don't follow through with, but an ultimatum nonetheless. Either give us a treat or you'll get a trick. Simple as that. What's the ultimatum with trunk or treating? Give us a treat or we'll give you a trunk? Huh? I get that the name comes from people parking their cars in a parking lot or some other area and giving kids candy out of their cars' trunks, but that's no excuse. Plus, people don't use their cars' trunks exclusively. Most of the time, it's just kids shuffling around a gymnasium as candy is deposited into their bags. Plus, what do the kids say when they get the candy? "Trunk or treat!" See, it just sounds stupid.

9. It encourages laziness.
I remember being totally exhausted at the end of a night of trick or treating. Since my siblings and I grew up (mostly) in a small town, we made a concerted effort to cover a good portion of it, even if that included hiking up hills and crossing through neighborhoods. My brothers even went up into this area on the mountainside called Interlaken. Mom or Dad would drive the boys to the area and let them hike all over the steep streets. It was a trick or treating treasure trove since most of the houses were huge (read: really, really good candy) and hardly any trick or treaters went there. As a result, lots of people would just dump their candy bowls into my brothers' bulging pillowcases, figuring no other kids would likely make the trek. We Jacobsen kids were tenacious trick or treaters and we easily walked at least a mile every Halloween night to get as much candy as possible. Now, my four-year-old doesn't walk miles, but he does walk all over our little neighborhood, which, considering his size, isn't just a short jaunt.

I'll take it one step further: is trunk or treating simply the by-product of lazy parents? I let you all talk amongst yourselves.

Trunk or treating only requires children to walk a few feet. In a society that frets about childhood obesity, you'd think making children run around the neighborhood would be encouraged. Think of it as preemptively burning off some of those well-earned calories.

8. It promotes a 'herd mentality'. Literally.
At these events (from what I've heard, since I've never been to one), the kids just walk around in a circle with their bags open. They're just shuffled from stop to stop like a herd of cattle. If you think about it, it's kind of creepy. And not in a good, Halloween-y way.

7. It inhibits creativity.
When I was a kid, we used to plan out our trick or treating routes, sometimes in specific detail. It was just part of the fun of the night. Not much planning needs to be done on the kids' part in a trunk or treat. "Hmmmm...let's see..first we'll stop at this neighbor's van and then we'll move a few feet over to someone else's van!" Lame.

6. It instills a false sense of danger.
In all your years of trick or treating did you ever get any suspicious, razor blade-laden, or poisoned candy? Of course you didn't. In all the years my three brothers and I trick or treated, not once did we get anything deadly. And we're talking many, many pounds of candy amassed over the years. Then there's my husband and his five siblings -- no dangerous candy in all their years of trick or treating either.

So where did this myth of dangerous candy even come from? I found a great article all about the myth of poisoned and tainted Halloween candy on Snopes.com. There are virtually no cases on record about anyone randomly poisoning and tainting Halloween candy. None! Sadly enough, the only incidences of kids being hurt or killed by Halloween candy weren't random -- most were perpetrated by family members.

I realize that some people think that trunk or treating is a safer alternative than going door-to-door. Again, this is stupid. Unless the crime rate is unusually high where you live, trunk or treating is an unnecessary precaution. In fact, Halloween is a great time to teach about safety. Our family had rules about trick or treating -- parental supervision when we were young and no unfamiliar neighorhoods as we got older and went with friends. Even if candy tainting isn't as common as people think it is, we never ate any of our candy until was checked out by Mom and Dad. Whenever we were invited inside a house (even if it was an old lady doing the inviting) we always checked with Mom or Dad first. We'd look at them, since they were standing behind us, and they'd nod. Wow. Danger averted.

The world isn't perfect and there are bad people no matter where you live, but we still went trick or treating. I know I don't live in the ghetto now. I live in an area where I don't have to worry about gangs running the streets. Yet, my community hosts a bunch of trunk or treating events, mostly within church groups. It makes no sense (which brings me back to the lazy parent issue...).

Trunk or treating events send a message to kids, even if people don't mean to, that the world is only a dangerous place. Truth be told, it is a scary place. But not knowing about it is part of the joy of childhood. That childhood innocence is so fleeting. In our world of overused hand sanitizer and helmets for crawling babies, do we have to ruin Halloween in the name of safety, too?

5. Trunk or treating is more dangerous anyway.
I mean, it's way easier to get kidnapped at a trunk or treating event, as my husband pointed out. "Sure, kid, the candy is just back there in the trunk.." Shove. Close door. Drive away. Worried about tainted candy? Turns out a kid in my area received a vial of cocaine a few years ago at a church-sponsored trunk or treat. No joke. That's what you get for trunk or treating.
(P.S. -- Sarcasm is hard to convey via the written word. I hope you picked up on it. I seriously doubt there's much of a threat of kidnapping.)

4. It is exclusive.
Very often, trunk or treating is organized by a church group. This happens nationwide, among various religious groups and organizations. In my area, the majority of children are members of the LDS church. It just so happens that a lot of the wards in my area host these trunk or treating events and many of the members attend. This means lots of dark, empty houses. As a result, the kids who aren't LDS knock on many doors to no avail. Since I refuse to attend these events, we experience this setback along with them. We walked around our cul-de-sac at prime trick or treating time last year and only got an answer from three or four houses. Sad thing is, our cul-de-sac has well over 20 houses in it. I'm sure this happens nationwide with other organizations -- only those who are members attend the trunk or treat event, exluding the trick or treating 'minority'.

And even if it isn't a church group hosting a trunk or treat (as is the case in my hometown, where it is held at the town hall), it excludes people without kids. In my small hometown, we would visit the homes of the elderly and they would give us homemade cookies, popcorn balls wrapped in plastic, and bright green apples. I can remember an elderly woman in my neighborhood, in particular, who would invite children into her living room, and her face was just filled with this grandmotherly enjoyment as she held out a plate of cookies while asking about our trick or treating adventures. It was awesome. A few years ago, one of my mom's best friends took her little boys trick or treating, only to find out later that a trunk or treat was being held simultaneously. She later told me about how many of the elderly people she encountered would ask, "Where are the children? Don't kids trick or treat anymore?"

Even my own parents miss the masses of children that used to swarm our street. Every year, my dad would turn on his homemade strobe light (epic, I might add), play some weird music over the stereo (until I stayed home from trick or treating and he had me play 'Toccata in D Minor' over and over on the organ setting of our digital piano), and wear his scary troll mask. He loved to open the door slowly and then startle the kids waiting on the other side. Kids loved coming to our house and my parents went through bag after bag after bag of candy. Now, they barely get through one and my dad doesn't go to the lengths he used to. The only adults that attend trunk or treating events are parents -- everyone else is excluded.

3. It is boring.
This seems obvious, but it's worth noting. Compared to the awesomeness (Do I use the word awesome too much? Blame it on my husband.) that is trick or treating, walking around in a circle and getting candy from people in cars is sleep-inducing. And people complain about television and video games ruining children's imaginations?

2. It is communism in a nutshell.
Did you see this one coming? Think about it:

No matter the child's enthusiasm, they'll get the same amount of candy as the slowest child at a trunk or treat. Equal candy for everyone!
Trunk or treat kills incentive.

Ah, who could forget the bread lines of the Soviet Union. Remind you of anything?

1. It is just plain sad.
I apologize for taking you down memory lane so many times with me, but I can vividly remember Halloween night as a child. I'm certain I'm not the only one.

I remember my mom feeding us a hot dinner, usually a bowl of soup, before heading out into the chilly night air. Mom and Dad would decide who would stay and who would go out with the kids. We excitedly got into costume, fidgeting as Mom applied that last bit of face paint or as she begged us to put a coat on, even though it covered the costume. We'd sit by the window, wishing the sun away and waiting for the kids to start coming out of their houses. Once we saw a couple, we were off! We ran from house to house in the neighborhood, with our bags and pillowcases in tow, buzzing about the haul we were going to get. As we got older, we strategized and covered more area, still as excited about the prospect of free candy as were when we were little. I remember shivering on people's doorsteps, but it didn't matter. It was Halloween!

And now I think of what Halloween is to kids today. What kind of memories are they making? Now they go to a trunk or treat at an appointed time, shuffle around parking lots and gymnasiums, get the same candy as everyone else, and then head home after an hour (if even that long). It may sound melodramatic, but I think it's tragic. Trick or treating is one of the hallmarks of childhood, if not the hallmark of childhood. Trick or treating is one of the only things kids have and enjoy that adults don't, one of the only things that kids have over us. Kevin and I were just talking today about how jealous we are that we can't do trick or treating anymore. It's just pure, unadulterated fun. It makes me genuinely sad that so many kids today don't enjoy this childhood tradition like our generation, and so many before us, did. I'm doing my best to let my son have the trick or treating experience I did, but when so many people choose not to and don't answer their doors, it's really just...sad.

So now that you're armed with the reasons not to go, what do you do now? It's obvious. Skip the trunk or treat. Spread the word. Together, we can bring Halloween back from the brink.

- - -
P.S. Please please please check out this link from my friend, Heather. It is so funny - I was laughing out loud. I think her anti-trunk or treating efforts will be far more effective than mine. Or at least more satisfying.

Still Here

2010-10-21T12:56:00.002-06:00

Sorry for the lack of posting. I've been busy with a bunch of stuff -- some worthwhile, some not so much. I won't bore you with the details.

And I might as well announce it -- I'm having a baby in March! A baby boy, to be specific. Having grown up with only brothers, I think I get the boy dynamic pretty well and I'm used to the feeling of being outnumbered. That said, I'm not quite sure how I'll juggle two kids, but being a parent is all about learning as you go, right?

A new post is coming soon. It's going to be yet another diatribe about trunk-or-treating. Together, we can end this horrible, horrible practice. Our children's future depends on it.

100,000

2010-09-16T09:45:00.007-06:00

Yesterday, I hit the 100,000 word mark in the first draft of my novel. Please, please -- hold your applause.

I started my first draft last January. I was on a roll for the first few months, writing up to ten pages in a sitting. I could do that in like an hour or two. It all just came flowing from my brain. It was a ton of fun. Then, I fell into a slump. But, thankfully, that didn't last very long. I was back on a roll again for several months, but then I got the month-long slump. This is kind of the pattern of my whole experience. I can't help but feel like I'm on some kind of roller coaster and I always think of this picture from a blog post last year. But, all in all, one of the only good things about 2009 was that I actually started my novel (since it'd been in the planning stages since, like, seventh grade. Seriously. I mean, it has certainly evolved since I was a middle schooler, but it really has been somewhere in my brain for the last 15 years or so) and made some real progress. I was so excited about actually doing the thing I've wanted to do my entire life. I wanted to write a book even before I could read.

But 2010 has been an altogether different experience. I'm still plugging along, but I feel like it has taken more effort the past few months. I can't even explain it. The middle of a book is really hard to write, I'm learning. The beginning was a blast to write and I can't wait to write my ending. Don't get me wrong, all the stuff in the middle is really cool, but it's hard to write because I want the pacing to be just right and I worry about my characters' various arcs. It's a lot to keep track of!

Then the real hit to my writing ego came this summer when I was reading On Writing by Stephen King. An awesome book -- it's up there with Bird by Bird for me now -- but there was just one thing he said that got to me. He said that it shouldn't take more than three months to write a first draft. When I read that, I was 18 months into my first draft. I know that's just one person's experience, but it is Stephen King. I mean, he does know something about writing books. I don't know why, but it frustrated me. Why is this taking so long?!?! I should have been done in April 2009!

But I know that isn't possible. At least for me. I can't whip this novel out in a short frenzy. I'm a mom. I can't devote four hours a day to writing, as much as I'd like to. The phase of my life that I'm in right now won't allow it. I'm totally fine with that. So, I'm moving slowly but surely. The first draft will get finished. Hopefully by December.

So that's why I'm celebrating 100,000 words, the evidence of my endurance. I've made it this far. And I'll keep plugging along, through the thrilling highs and the demoralizing lows. So it's back to the first draft, because as the writer Sherman Alexie said, "Every word on your blog is a word not in your book."

{P.S. - I know I've kept you all in the dark about what my book is even about. It's not fair to keep writing about the novel and not tell you anything about the storyline or the characters. Well, I'm still not going to. Sorry. But, I thought I'd give a you a little insight, a tiny peek. The first song on my playlist -- since I've taken it off shuffle, it'll play automatically -- is "Run" by Snow Patrol. This song goes pretty well with my book and I played it a million times when I was in the first months of writing my draft.}

Nine Years Later

2010-09-11T13:51:00.002-06:00

About a month or so after 9/11/01, I had an English professor (possibly the worst English teacher I've ever had. She was an adjunct professor who talked through her teeth. Yeah, she was the worst.) who went on and on about how she refused to let her husband volunteer at the 2002 Winter Olympics -- which at the time was less than six months away -- because she was certain that there would be another terrorist attack. She was afraid and paranoid.

And there I sat in my chair, in her boring class, thinking, "Should I go?" I'd been training for my volunteer job over the past year, getting ready to help with the press operations at Deer Valley. I was beyond psyched to be a part of the Olympics! In the midst of all the horror and sorrow that was 9/11, it never occured to me that volunteering at the Olympics could be dangerous until that dumb teacher brought it up. It made some sense -- a gathering of the world's nations in one city could be a perfect target. Was I going to be standing in the middle of it?

Go back a month or two. I was just a couple weeks into my sophomore year of college. Like everyone who lived through 9/11, I can remember, in perfect detail, where I was, how I felt, and the thoughts that raced through my head on that day. It was beyond horrifying to watch desperate people jump from buildings. I remember the ash-covered men and women, running for their lives. I remember the vigils of the family members, plastering the walls surrounding Ground Zero with pictures of their loved ones as they tried to find them. I remember watching the news feeling almost paralyzed. Things like this didn't happen in America. Sure, the world around us had its struggles and tumult, but we were immune from these types of things. The towers being hit was surreal, but when the Pentagon was hit I was in utter shock. An act of war on our soil - it seemed unfathomable. I just shook as I called my dad, asking him what was going on, only to hear the same shock in his voice. Everything about that day was unsettling.

{Just one of the many, many people waiting in line to donate blood to the victims}

However, in spite of all the horror of that Tuesday, I experienced along with millions of Americans a sense of unity that was indescribable. We mourned together, we steeled our resolve together, we donated our blood, gave our money, and prayed as nation. The American spirit, that same spirit the terrorists tried so hard to defeat, was stronger than ever. Just as the terror of 9/11 was unlike anything I'd experienced in my life, so were the days and weeks following the attacks.

Had you told me nine years ago that our nation would be as divided as it is now, I don't know if I would have believed it. If someone had told me about the cynicism around 9/11 there is now, I would have been stunned. Had you told me that not even a decade later there would be people who actually believed that the events of 9/11 were perpetrated by our own government, I would have laughed at the thought and dismissed it (by the way, my reaction is still the same). I would have been shocked that anyone would even consider putting a mosque so close to Ground Zero within the decade. I would have also been appalled that people would overshadow a day made sacred by the American lives lost with some publicity stunt about burning the Koran. I think what would bother me the most is that a lot of the video of the events of the day aren't shown anymore, not even on the anniversary of the tragic event. I don't think we should live in the past, but we should pause to remember occasionally, no matter how painful.

So why mention the Olympics and my annoying professor? Because, even though there was anxiety about another attack and the Olympics did seem like a viable target, I still volunteered. I remember pausing for a moment in her class, wondering if I should still volunteer, and then shaking my head and thinking, "Of course I'm going to go!" I wasn't going to give in out of fear. Sure, tragedy had struck just weeks ago, but it wasn't going to stop me from living. Going on with my life and my aspirations was my answer to what had happened in New York, Washington D.C., and Pennsylvania. The terrorists who flew those planes, along with the other behind the attack, wanted to make us afraid and to shake us to the core. I, along with millions of other Americans, refused to give them what they wanted.

And that's what I take from the whole event of 9/11. We took a hit that day, a hit that cost 2,996 innocent men, women, and children their lives, but we got back up. Thousands of men and women donned the uniform of our country, including my own little brother, to fight back at the enemy instead of cowering before them. Sure, the wars of the past decade are the cause of much debate, but the fact that people volunteered to go, and die, for the cause of freedom is evidence of the strength of the Americn spirit. Of course, America is divided in many ways, but we're still here. And, despite our flaws, we're still the greatest nation the world has ever known.

Wish I May

2010-09-08T20:46:00.006-06:00

Kevin finally convinced to me watch Pinocchio with him. When I was kid, I really didn't like that movie. Pinocchio seemed so dumb and thoughtless, it was hard to pity him. Parts of the movie felt so hopeless. And did I mention that it has lots of scary stuff? I mean, that Stromboli character is kinda creepy, Monstro is terrifying, not to mention that whole part on Pleasure Island when all the boys-turned-donkeys are crying for their moms. It was too much for young, sensitive Heather to bear. But, we rented it via Neflix on Blu-ray last week and it wasn't nearly so bad as I remember. In fact, I found parts of it really quite beautiful.

Anyway, it got me thinking about wishes. I have quite the list. Here goes.

I wish...

... my cat liked me more than only 10% of the time.

... I had my husband's metabolism.

... could bottle up moments so I can re-experience them when I'm old. Sometimes even a camera can't cut it. I had one of those moments just minutes ago when Max and I were laying on the lawn, listening as he identified the clouds as a Buzz Lightyear cloud, a Woody cloud, a Jessie cloud, a Slinky-dog cloud...

... I could stop worrying about things I can't control.

... I could find a pair of jeans that fit right. Or just any pair of pants, for that matter. Shopping for pants is the bane of my existence.

... that child sex offenders couldn't see the light of day after their first offense. Oh man, if I'd been at that store yesterday I would have liked to have given that creep a piece of my mind. With my foot. Repeatedly.

... my writer's block would pass. I think I'm waiting for inspiration, but I should just write until it comes. I will finish the first draft of my novel before the year ends.

... bathrooms cleaned themselves.

... fall lasted longer. A couple months isn't nearly enough. Definitely my favorite season.

... Obama wasn't president. He drives me nuts. You can't spend your way out of a recession, even if you're the most powerful man in the free world. Sorry.

... my tomato crop had turned out better. Last year, they were so awesome. This year, not so much.

... that the Haunted Mansion ride at Disneyland didn't get changed to the Nightmare Before Christmas theme. We're going to Disneyland in a couple weeks and I'm bummed that my favorite ride isn't going to be the way I love it.

... my little guy would stop growing up so fast. He's going to be four next month. Four! How did this happen already? Granted, he only gets better with age, but still -- I love having him little and innocent and perfect.

... could think of something better to write about instead of a random list. It will have to do for now.

{P.S. - What's on your wish list?}

Forgive and Forget?

2010-08-27T10:20:00.011-06:00

I have a problem. I don't know why I'm going to air a personal flaw here on my blog for anyone and everyone to read but here goes anyway. And please don't feel like you have to walk on eggshells around me. If you don't make me mad, you'll be just fine.

Let me give you an example.

When I was in high school, way back in the 20th Century, a girl at church decided it would a great idea to point out to the entire class that I was the only one that hadn't been asked to the homecoming dance. I can remember it in clear detail. When the teacher was out of the room, she said, as she tossed her hair the side, "Hmmm...let's see who's going to homecoming..." She then took inventory of each of the people in the class, pointing at each of them and saying, "Yeah, she's going. He's going. Uh-huh, she's going." And then she got to me and, with her voice full of false pity said, "Oh yeah. Heather's not going to homecoming, huh? Too bad." Then the teacher came in and I (since I was shy Heather at that point of my life) just sat through the rest of church, humiliated and feeling pretty bummed that I didn't have a date. I mean, I was feeling bad enough for not going and my self-esteem was already taking a hit. I didn't need her to point it out further. It was awful.

{For the record, I never did go to a homecoming dance and I ended up working those nights, to my chagrin. I was a cute enough girl in high school; I think I was a fun person back then (look here for a glimpse of high school Heather). I don't know why I didn't get asked to dances. Kevin says it's because high school guys are afraid of smart girls who don't find them funny.}

But here's my problem. That Sunday School incident still pisses me off. You'd think after 10+ years I could let it go, but I can't. I just went to my ten-year class reunion (woohoo, Class of 2000) and the girl from Sunday School wasn't there. It's a good thing, too, because I would have been distracted by my silly grudge. Plus, I couldn't say anything about that incident to her, even if I wanted to, for two reasons: 1) I'm certain she doesn't even remember; and 2) What kind of loser brings up a grievance from junior year? I still remember it though. Does that make me a loser?

And that's not the only incident I remember. I have the memory of an elephant. I still get mad about my idiot manager from a few years ago at the bookstore. I swear she had a vendetta against me. Seriously, she criticized everything I did when I was Community Relations Manager. Still makes me mad if I think about it. I still occasionally think about stupid guys from college and all the drama associated with them and it makes me a little mad all over again. Again, I realize it's stupid to hold on to things for years, but I can't help it. Even with my patient husband: if we ever get in a fight, I can dig things up from the recesses of my mind like it's ammo or something. It's not a good way to be, I know.

See what I meant about worrying about everyone walking on eggshells around me now, afraid of offending me and being on the receiving end of my passive-agressive wrath?

The other night, Kevin and I were talking about forgiveness. That's what spurred this whole post. We talked about what forgiveness entails, particularly forgetting. But how does one forget? There are people in my life (and out of my life now) that have offended me and I forgive them. Then again, I can't forget entirely. Does that mean I haven't really forgiven them? It's especially hard for me if they never expressed any kind of remorse or apology. Forgetting makes it seem to me like what they did was okay, that it wasn't that bad. But in some cases, it was that bad. In a few cases, it was devastating, even if it wasn't intended to be that way. How do you put it in the past and move on?

So that's why I'm writing all this. I want to be better about forgiving and forgetting. I've read all about the freedom that comes with pure forgiveness. I want that, but feel kind of hindered. What are your thoughts? How do you let things go? Or are you a grudge-holder like me? Better yet, were you a grudge-holder, but you've overcome it now? How?

One last thing: I do have the memory of an elephant. That's not entirely bad. I can remember acts of kindness from people all the way back to my childhood. Like the time that sixth grade boy saved me, a defenseless kindergartener, on the last day of school from being smothered in shaving cream by the other sixth grade boys. I never forget a kindness (even after 20+ years), no matter how small or seemingly insignificant it may be.

Weak in the Knees

2010-08-18T11:12:00.016-06:00

I consider myself a pretty strong-willed person. To a fault, even. But I do have my weaknesses. Friends and enemies take notice, here are a few of them. Feel free to sabotage me at any time.

1. Books about writing

As many of you know, I'm (still) in the process of writing the first draft of my novel. I admit, it's taking waaaay too long, but I'm still plugging along. I'm hovering around 98,000 words right now. The end is in sight. Anyway, whenever I feel stumped or bogged down in my writing process, what do I do? I reach for a book about writing. I'm addicted to them. They're part instructional manual, part pep-talk. I particularly like to read them in the bathtub. Is that weird?

My favorites? Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott and On Writing by Stephen King. I've read Bird by Bird probably three or four times - still cracks me up. On Writing is the only Stephen King book I've ever read; he has such an awesome way of conveying his distinct voice, even in a writing book. And if you're going to take advice from anyone on how to be successful in writing, well, he's a good guy to go to. Granted, not all writing books are good. Incidentally, my least favorite writing books I've come across: Show Don't Tell (boooooring) and Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg. Anyway, I'm getting a new writing book in the mail via PaperBackSwap. It sounds kind of new-agey, but whatever. What can I say? I have a weakness for even the new-agey, hippie writing books.

2. Halloween

I think we decorate our house, inside and out, for Halloween more than we do Christmas. Don't get me wrong -- Christmas is a beautiful holiday and I absolutely love it. But there's just something about Halloween that I'm in love with. It's such an odd thing, macabre even, to decorate your home with spiderwebs, to turn your flowerbed into a graveyard, and to hang skeletons on the porch, but we do it every year. When they start putting the Halloween decorations and costumes in the stores after all the back-to-school stuff, I get giddy and buy too much. And that's just the start of it. I start thinking of our Halloween costumes months, sometimes years, in advance (my husband and I take turns each year and pick our costumes. It's my turn this year!). We also have an annual Halloween party with our family that I just love. Someday we'll have a bigger house and invite all our friends, too! I think the thing I love most about Halloween is that it is just pure, unabashed fun that comes with a holiday, without all the expense {well, forced expense} and stress of the Christmas season. Only a month and half until October!

3. Cookbooks

Can a girl have too many cookbooks? No. Sure, my shelf designated (pictured above - I just went and took a picture of it) to my cookbooks is full and I've relegated to stacking some of them on top. I also have others in the pantry. And in the cupboard above the fridge. But that doesn't mean I have a problem. *nervous laugh* For the record, though, my current favorite cookbook is The Pioneer Woman Cooks. Have you been introduced to the Pioneer Woman? She. Is. Amazing. My husband says that if I die before he does, he's going to find some way to marry her. Everything in her cookbook is so good. Especially the sour cream pancakes. I make them every Saturday now.

4. Politics
Hi, my name is Heather {Hi, Heather}. I'm 28 and I'm a politics junkie. Granted, I go through peaks and valleys in my interest (yes, I've even had my moments of apathy), but I still have to know what's going on in the political arena. Not so much in terms of the politicians themselves, but the issues and bills themselves Seriously, it's a problem how worked up they can get me. In fact, a couple of my brothers-in-law (you know who you are) think it's hilarious to talk about what an awesome president Franklin Roosevelt was whenever I'm around, just to get me going. Oooh, I can feel my blood pressure rising already...

5. Nurseries

I don't mean the kind with kids involved. Not that I don't love them or anything, but...

I love love love walking through garden centers and nurseries. I don't know if anyone remembers, but there was this Home Depot commercial on TV a few months ago about their garden department. I loved it. Especially the part when the worker wipes her soil-covered hands on her apron. Seriously, I always sighed with contentment at that part. I love working in the yard. Okay, let's rephrase that. Weeding isn't a ton of fun. Pulling the stupid, idiot grass from my flowerbed drives me mad. But planning and planting the garden? That's definitely one of those peur aeternis moments. So, naturally, nurseries are a weakness of mine. I just stroll through them and want to buy everything. I have to have a strict plan and list when I go to them. If I'm not careful, a trip to the garden center for some pumpkin seeds can easily turn into me pushing a flat of daisies, lavender, daylilies, strawberry plants, and bags of Nutri-Mulch to my car.

6. Patriotic songs and videos
Sing the third verse of "The Star-Spangled Banner"? Or the third verse of "America the Beautiful"? Forget about it. I don't even try anymore. I can't do it without dissolving into a puddle of tears. Same goes for those YouTube videos of soldiers coming home and surprising their kids. I'm getting misty just writing about them. If you're in the mood for a good cry, by all means, check out this video, but consider yourself warned. They make a crying, teary mess of me - in a good way, of course.

7. Amazon.com

A book for one cent?! Can it be true? Sold! Oh, Amazon. So wonderful yet so very dangerous for a bibliophile like myself. But I don't just stop at books. I buy lots of stuff off Amazon because I can read the reviews and it's usually cheaper than in stores. Plus, what's better than getting something in the mail besides grocery ads and bills? Definitely a day-brightener.

8. Pasta

I took this picture from the Pioneer Woman site, from her recipe for Baked Lemon Pasta. Mmmmm. Pasta.... *insert Homer Simpson drooling sound*

9. My top three brain crushes.

Matt Bellamy (of Muse). Mark Steyn. And Kevin Keele (who happens to be #1). *Sigh* The three guys whose brains I ardently admire.

10. Little boys with big, brown eyes who look like aforementioned brain crush Kevin.

Enough said.
{Thanks to our friend and gifted photographer, Lauriann Wakefield, for yet another beautiful picture of my boy. What can I say? She rocks.}

On Entitlement, Socialism, and Laffy Taffy

2010-08-11T15:57:00.013-06:00

Where do I begin?

My little boy is signed up for a three-week soccer program geared for pre-school aged kids. Nothing seriously competitive, just a way to learn the fundamentals and have fun. Anyway, while I was in the bleachers watching my boy and the other 3 & 4-year-olds mob the soccer ball, I witnessed something that drove me nuts. It's none of my business, but the principle of the thing...well, let's just say, I had to bite my tongue. Hard.

In front of me was a couple of moms chatting. Then a little boy comes up to one of the moms, pouty and on the verge of a tantrum. My son has thrown his share of tantrums, so I try to never judge a tantrum-y kid. But I couldn't help but overhear the conversation between the mom and the boy.

Boy: "I don't wanna play anymore."
Mom: "Why not?"
Boy: "I. Don't. Want. TO!!!"
Mom: "Just go play. Go on."
Boy: "Noooooo!!!! I don't want to play anymore!"

Like I said, I've been on the receiving end of many a tantrum. No judgment here. The boy's coach came over. "Hey {boy's name}! We really need you on our team! Come play with us!" The boy just made some kind of grunting sound at the coach and turned away from her. The coach did the right thing and shrugged her shoulders and went back to her team of preschoolers.

A few minutes later, another person from the soccer program came over.

Soccer lady: "Hey buddy, don't you want to come play?"
Boy: "Nooooooo!"
Soccer lady: "What if I gave you extra candy?"
Boy: {didn't say anything, but stopped crying and whining, as if to say, "I'm listening."}
Soccer lady: "All the other kids get two Laffy Taffys, but I'll give you three if you go play."
Boy: "Hnnnnphphmm."
Soccer lady: "You don't like Laffy Taffy? Well, what if I gave you a sucker? Do you like suckers? Then would you go play?"
Mom: "Did you hear that {kid's name}? She's going to give you an extra taffy and a sucker!"

Grrrrr. It's not like I was mad that the kid was getting more candy than my son. I usually only let him eat one of the taffys and save the other for later. But the message the soccer lady and his mom were sending to the boy was awful. It probably wasn't intentional, but I couldn't but notice how these people were positively reinforcing bad behavior. If it were my kid, I would have told the lady thank you, but that he wasn't acting in a way that deserved extra candy. If he didn't want to play, he'd just have to miss out.

One part of me wonders if I'm overreacting a little, but at the same time, few things get me more angry and annoyed when people get rewarded for bad behavior. Like the time when I was a manager at prominent bookstore chain. This woman came in, determined to get a refund for a book she bought three months ago. The return policy clearly stated that no book could be returned after 30 days. Plus, it wasn't even a book we regularly carried -- it was a special order. Anyway, I politely told her that we couldn't give her a refund for the book, according to the terms of our return policy. She yelled at me for a little while and then stormed off. Within the hour, the general manager received a call from the district office. Turns out, the lady called the corporate offices, complained and whined enough, and was told to come back to the store. Sure enough, she worked her way around the system and got the refund. Grrrrr.

Or then there was that time during my college years when I worked at a Mexican restaurant. One night, this guy came in, sat by himself, and ordered a big combination dinner. It was slow that night. The order was uncomplicated. I checked everything. Everything was there that he ordered. I came back in five minutes to check on him and he told me that he never got a chile relleno. I could see the empty spot on his plate where it had been. Well, not being one to be pushed around easily (the old, shy Heather from grade school would be so proud of the new, assertive, I-don't-take-crap-from-anyone college Heather), I flat-out told him that I had given him the chile relleno. He started yelling -- literally yelling -- "Where did it go then, huh? It's not here, is it?" in a voice you would use with an disobedient child. All I said was "Maybe you ate it." Then he flew off the handle and began to chew me out about how I was calling him, the always-right customer, a liar. I walked off in the middle of his tirade, told my manager what had happened and that I refused to wait on him since nobody, I mean nobody, talks to me like that. So what did the manager do? He gave the guy his dinner for free. Nice.

Sure, getting refund for a thirty dollar book or a ten dollar combination plate for free isn't a huge injustice. Some might think I'm too much of a stickler. But here's the thing: there are rules for a reason and people shouldn't be able to worm their way around them. In addition to trunk-or-treating, I'm almost positive that this sense of entitlement so many people have today is going to be the downfall of society. I don't mean that things will resemble some kind of post-apocalyptic, Mad Max kind of world, but I think many of the ideals we have respected and held as a nation will suffer because of it.

Think about it. The government loves to reward stupid/bad behavior. For instance, there are rumors that the Obama administration is considering having Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac forgive parts of mortgages for people who are upside-down in their homes. (There was an article about it on Reuters, but it looks like it was pulled. Parts of the pulled article can be found here.) Sure, the housing market has been difficult (I just got my property tax information and it looks like my property values have dropped a few grand since last year), but in many cases, people got in over their heads when they bought these now-underwater mortgages. Even if my house was worth less than I owed, I wouldn't want a bailout. It's wrong to take money from others for your own benefit. Like I said, the mortgage bailout thing is just speculation right now, but it doesn't seem that outlandish. This administration, along with the last one, is notorious for reinforcing people and businesses that have screwed up.

Today, there was a riot over housing voucher permits, so people could get their rent subsidized by the government. My friend went to the store a little while ago, where a woman in the line ahead of him was talking on her iPhone, buying some baby formula with her WIC card, who then drove off in a Cadillac Escalade. Really? Reallly?! If the money's there, might as well use it, right? Why not just spread the wealth around -- others need your money more than you do, right?

And don't even get me started on universal health care. I'll just mention this: A few months ago, Speaker Nancy Pelosi lauded the program saying, "Think of an economy where people could be an artist or a photographer or a writer without worrying about keeping their day job in order to have health insurance." That's right. What a great economy it would be to let others pay for their healthcare. I mean, why should they have to sacrifice like the rest of the working class? Working class people don't have interests they'd like to pursue, anyway. If only my husband (a career artist) didn't have to pay for our insurance. It's just not fair that they take that deduction out of his paycheck...

Amazing how a little extra Laffy Taffy could send me on a rant about socialism, but it's a cultural crisis. Instead of being a nation built on rugged individualism, so many people just want things handed to them. Reminds me of what Margaret Thatcher once said: "The trouble with socialism is that eventually you run out of other people's money."

Reminds me of another quote by another British prime minister, Winston Churchill: "Socialism is a philosophy of failure, the creed of ignorance, and the gospel of envy, its inherent virtue is the equal sharing of misery." This spreading sense of entitlement is a poison to the system. The government that can give you everything can take it all away, too. The Founding Fathers didn't say that we were given the inalienable right to happiness; they said "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness" for good reason. Working hard and earning your way through life is something we have to teach our children now, even if that means a preschooler doesn't get an extra Laffy Taffy after all.

How the tables have turned...

2010-07-27T00:04:00.009-06:00

For some reason I decided to take a stroll down blog memory lane last night. I sat and read through a bunch of old posts from 2007 and 2008, where I ranted and raved about bad customer service, frivolous bestowals of medals and honors, spoiled kids, and how trunk-or-treating was going to ruin the future generation. You know, important things. I might add, though, that all those arguments still stand. Except maybe the Home Depot thing -- they redeemed themselves a couple weeks ago when I was searching, yet again, for a specific sprinkler part. Now, Lowe's I'm not so sure about...

As I was perusing the various posts, I came across a couple that got me thinking. First was my review of Twilight. And then I came across one of my favorite posts: The Pageant Diatribe. I wrote this post over 3 1/2 years ago, but I still maintain that the mile-run and obstacle course would be awesome. Anyway, as I read throught that particular rant (if you look in the sidebar, I do have an entire label devoted to rants. Just get me going on something and I can't stop...), I saw that I'd mentioned a future diatribe on objectification. In fact, I'd actually promised to write it in 2008. Oops. Well, here it is. Not exactly a diatribe, though. More of an observation, really...

As I've mentioned numerous times on this blog, for a good part of my high school years and all of my college years, I considered myself a bit of a feminist. Not militant by any stretch of the imagination; just a focus on equality, really. We won't go into the details of that phase of my life right now (though I did find a post about it in my review of years of blogging). All I'll say is that my notions of what feminism means to me have evolved over the years, especially since I became a mother.

ANYWAY, one of the things I always went off on was the objectification of women, how women were seen as...well, objects. Hence, my opinion of beauty pageants. I still can't drop it. Anyone mentions them and I get all worked up. Another example: I refuse to eat at Carl's Jr. (not that it's hard to skip. Not that appetizing) -- all their ads with scantily-clad women eating burgers on the beach or in bed. Objectification! As if that's all women are for, to look at! Then there's the token hot girls in movies -- like tonight, we were watching Spider-Man 3 (my little boy has just discovered Spider-Man) and they had the dorky scientist guys with the hot assistant girls in lab coats. "The experiment is ready now, Dr. So-and-So! *giggle*" All girls in comic books have super-tight clothes and ginormous chests. Same goes with most video games. Do you see where I'm going with this?

Women are objectified throughout show business -- a man can be fat and unattractive but still be famous and successful in the music/movie/television world; a woman, not so much. For every twenty ugly/overweight/old actors and musicians, there's maybe one plain woman who has been equally successful. Television is full of sitcoms with attractive wives to fat, unattractive men. Think about it. Just watch the local evening news -- the male anchors and reporters can be well over the retirement age or unattractive/overweight/wrinkly; the female anchors and reporters are all young, perky women. Sure there are exceptions (like Diane Sawyer and Barbara Walters), but they're still far and in-between. Whenever we get on this topic, my husband and I always argue over this. Unlike me, he thinks men are just as objectified. But I know I'm right.

However, the tables maybe are starting to turn. Here are just two pieces of evidence...

Exhibit #1

{Jacob Black from the Twilight Saga. An original work by my awesome husband.}

Now, I don't expect to see men parading around stages to win the title of Mr. America anytime soon, but it's kind of interesting to see the reversal. I'll never forget going to the second Twilight movie, New Moon, during its opening weekend. The theater was pulsing with estrogen and with women, young and old, whistling and shouting whenever Edward walked slowly with the wind flapping at his open shirt or especially when Jacob Black showed up without a shirt. There were gasps and squeals of delight. It was unlike any other movie-going experience. It was so funny, I talked my husband into going to the third movie during the opening weekend, just to see (and hear) all the lusty women. Kevin and I saw part of Jimmy Kimmel's show with the Twilight cast a few weeks ago and it was so funny. You could tell they were looking for legitimate questions for the cast, but all you mostly got were giddy teenage girls who only asked Taylor Lautner if they could see his abs.

We're used to action movies full of strong men fighting for the busty supermodel-like woman. The women men are vying for in male-focused movies are almost always an object without much personality or brains (think Megan Fox in Transformers -- just one example). Sometimes the men in these movies are dashing, but sometimes they're not. Now with the Twilight saga, we have a modestly-dressed, kind of boring girl (what am I saying? Totally boring girl), that has two hunky guys fighting over her. Sparkly vampires in the sunlight on one hand, burly werewolves running shirtless through the forest on the other. The movies mirror the books, though. As I read the second book, I swore I would chuck it across the room if she mentioned Edward's topaz eyes or his marble statue-like physique one more time or Jacob's "russet" colored skin.

Exhibit #2

{Old Spice Man}

I think these commercials are hilarious. But finally, after years and years of commercials using women to sell beer, razors, body spray. and Just for Men hair dye, a commercial is using sex to appeal to a female audience. Blantant sex appeal. The funny thing is that the commercial is for Old Spice (Ick. That stuff stinks.), but it's geared toward women. I think it's kind of telling.

So where is this post going? Am I condoning objectification of men? I mean, after all these years of men doing it to women, shouldn't we have a turn? Nah. Like I wrote earlier, I'm all for equality -- I don't think it's right to do it to either sex. But do I find it funny? Yes. A little satisifying? Definitely. Let's just hope it doesn't get out of hand and we see men parading on stage in a swimsuit competition anytime soon.

Thankful Thursday: In True Pioneer Spirit. Hopefully.

2010-07-22T20:56:00.010-06:00

I would have been a crappy pioneer. I can't help but think about it as Pioneer Day approaches. I would have stunk at it.

I'm not going to totally berate myself: I think I could have managed the whole living-on-the-frontier thing pretty well. I could have made butter, sewn clothes, cooked from scratch, helped in the fields, preserved the harvest, made soap. It wouldn't have been easy by any stretch of the imagination, but I think I could have done that part. But getting to that place? Nope. I know my limits. A few years ago, I went on a ten-mile hike in Southern Utah with my in-laws, traversing over slick rock, clambering down mountain sides, swimming through shallows, and climbing steep grades out of the canyon. To put it lightly, it completely kicked my trash. It made me vow to never do any serious hiking again. Hiking across the plains? No go.

So, I can totally see myself packing up the wagon in 1847, leaving Nauvoo, and then thinking, "Oh man, that's a lot of walking." because, as we all know, it wasn't only pioneer children who walked and walked and walked and walked. I'd get to the Mississippi River and consider staying behind and hanging out with Emma Smith instead.

I don't mean to make light of any of what the pioneers did. Frankly, I stand in utter amazement. How did they do it? Their faith was incredible; I'm not sure mine's that strong. Burying family members alongside the trail in snowy, unmarked graves. Giving birth in the back of a covered wagon. Eating next to nothing. Worst of all, having to watch their children, their little children, make and suffer through the arduous trek. I can't even fathom how they did it.

My family history is full of Mormon pioneers, men and women who traveled by foot, wagon, and handcart to the Salt Lake Valley. I've got immigrant converts from Scandinavia who sailed here, crossed the plains, and set off to settle parts of the state (most of them in and around Manti). And not all pioneers walked or pulled handcarts. My own great-grandmother left everything behind in her native land to be in Utah with the Saints. I'm so grateful for them, for being made of tougher stock than me, and making the journey. Where I am in my life right now is because of them. I live where I do, I have the kind of life I do, in a major part to their sacrifices.

So how do you repay such a debt? How do you reconcile the fact that so much was given and lost so that I could live like I do? Life is hard, but never as hard as theirs. My only answer is that I remember them and then live my life in a way that makes them proud, to live according to the faith they gave so much for. And maybe, just maybe, as Neal A. Maxwell said, I will "one day be praised for [my] stamina by those who pulled handcarts." That is, if I let them get a word in edgewise.

Peur Aeternis

2010-07-10T18:12:00.014-06:00

For Christmas last year, my mother-in-law gave me a subscription to a bi-monthly journal called The Storybook Home. I am in love with that journal. It's like a committee got together (without me noticing, since the journal's been around for ten years) to create a publication specifically for me. I can just imagine a bunch of people gathered at a table, with papers strewn all across it, busily brainstorming. "Now what kind of journal could we make that Heather would really love?" And then someone snapped their fingers and said, "I've got it! Why don't we do a publication all about how to incorporate classic literature into daily homemaking things like gardening, decorating, and cooking?" My mother-in-law said that the moment she saw this journal, she knew I'd love it. Oh, how I do.

Anyway, the point of this post is to share something I read in one of the journals that I've been kind of obsessed over lately. Again, I swear the journals were written for me because this one expressed an idea/feeling I've had for a while but couldn't quite put it into words. It's "peur aeternis". Let me explain...

Or maybe I'll just quote the author of the article, Nancy Young:

"Peur aeternis. I ran it across my lips and tongue with the affection and lip-smacking self satisfaction of the infant scholar...Its enchantment didn't lay exclusively in its esoteric foreignness; it lay more in its heart-catching familiarity. Peur aeternis meant 'the moment eternal,' one perfect moment which, if one could hold on to it, could go on forever...

"...I learned slowly that perfect moments weren't often tied to events. Few events can sustain them...Most perfect moments sprout from the seeds of everyday life; watching a flush-cheeked baby sleep, instantly comprehending a line of poetry, smelling apple blossoms in the air, drifting to sleep comfortably contented." ("The Course Of The Sun". Storybook Home Journal 4.3)

I've had so many moments like that. Nothing big, but moments where I feel totally, completely content with my life. Moments that I wanted to hold onto forever. The only way I feel like I can even come close to doing that is by taking pictures, so I thought I'd share a few of my moments of peur aeternis over the last little while.

On the porch on Memorial Day. I had this distinct feeling that I was living the American dream, picket fence and all.

Max and I love to do picnics in the backyard. One of our picnics turned into a read-a-thon. We just kept reading book after book together as we ate quesadillas and Greek yogurt. I sat, drinking my summertime staple, Tazo Passion {herbal} tea on ice, sweetened with agave nectar. Max stole sips of it while I read his favorites. There are few things I love more than reading with the boy.

It's a special moment when the cat doesn't swipe at me when I get this close. Our cat is a 25-lb., semi-feral animal. But I don't know what it was about this moment. All of us -- Kevin, Max, me, and Catmattix - were just hanging outside, enjoying the best time of day in the summer - not quite dusk or twilight, but just before, where the sun is low and everything is lit perfectly. Even my surly cat was content.

For reasons I'm not entirely sure of, I am infatuated with drying my clothes on my clothesline. There's something so old-fashioned about it that appeals to me. Plus, I read an awesome post about it being a sort of "quotidian liturgy", an act of service. Hanging the laundry outside makes me slow down (ever tried hanging the laundry in a hurry? Not possible.) and I can't help but think about the person whose clothes I'm hanging. Kevin's t-shirts (one of my favorites: the "Mr. Bananagrabber" t-shirt) and jeans. Max's little size 3/4T shirts and pants. Plus, I love the smell of line-dried clothes. If the sun has a smell, that's it. (btw: I made that cute clothespin apron. Are you proud?)

Because of my love of my clothesline, a lot of my peur aeternis pictures have a clothesline in them. I can't help it. Watching the clothes flap in the breeze just makes time seem to go by slower -- and I'm definitely a fan of that. Can you believe it's already July 10th? I love this picture because Max and my niece, Delila, (who I watch on Mondays) were playing nicely in the sandbox. Plus, I just clipped an awesome bouquet of roses from my yard. Nothing like giving yourself a dozen roses, especially when you grew them.

See, there's the clothesline again. I love this moment. Max was just chilling in his little chair, eating peanut butter on a spoon (or as Kevin and his brother used to call them as kids, "He-Man suckers"). I love that little boy. I wish he'd stay this age forever.

I made a goal to follow in my mom's footsteps and regularly cut flowers from my yard. It was so much fun to go through my flowerbeds and clip a bouquet of salvia, Jupiter's beard, yarrow, columbine, and even some flowering sage. This one was taken a few weeks ago. My current bouquet in my living room has daisies, yarrow, lavender, and gallardia in it. Love it.

My most recent moment -- last night, just before Max's bedtime. Throughout the night, he worked at his little desk, busily painting with his watercolors. I love watching him create at his desk -- as you can see the desk is cluttered with art supplies - watercolors, fingerpaints, glue, markers, colored pencils, stamps, scissors, pipecleaners, feathers, beads, cotton pompoms. There's also his sweet catapult (on the far left) that he made when we took our Webelos to day camp. I'm so grateful for the moments when time slows down a little, especially when this boy is concerned. Heaven knows, more often than not, time feels like it's racing by too quickly.

God Bless America: My Independence Day Top Ten

2010-07-02T14:09:00.108-06:00

It's so easy to focus on all the things wrong with America right now -- our disenchantment with Congress, the recession, the wasteful spending, the underhanded passage of certain bills (*cough health care cough*), the impending battle for immigration reform (I can't believe I haven't written about that yet -- I have read the Arizona bill. More on that in another blog post), the mishandling of the oil spill in the Gulf, the debacle with General McChrystal's comments, and the ever-encroaching hand of growing government involvement (read, 'Cap and Trade'). See, I rattled that list off pretty easily.

But, there's so much about America I love. Despite its flaws and some of the current events that make me nervous, I'm still convinced that the United States of America is the greatest nation in the history of the world. The news changes, the leaders and representatives in power will change, but the founding principles and the land itself will always be great. Here are just some of the reasons, in no particular order really, why I love this country.

10. From Sea to Shining Sea

One of my husband's favorite artists is Albert Bierstadt and pictured above is my husband's favorite painting by him, Among the Sierra Nevada Mountains. A couple years ago, we actually got to see the original painting at the Smithsonian -- it's one of the few paintings that has moved me to the point of tears. But that's because of what Kevin told me about Bierstadt. Bierstadt was a German immigrant who loved to paint the American landscape, particularly that of the Western states. Some critics of his time said that his paintings were too idealized, egotistical because of the huge canvases he painted on, and overly romantic. Anyway he said, having grown up in Europe, he was familiar with all the gorgeous cathedrals and churches there; when he came to America, he realized we didn't have them here. So he set out to capture the natural 'cathedrals' in the American landscape. He painted the American landscape the way he did in hopes to convey the majesty of his new country. Even though we lacked the architecture of the old world, he wanted to show how America made up for it. I think he did.

America has such a varied landscape. The sweeping plains of the Midwest, beautiful coasts, the tropic paradise of Hawaii, the frozen tundra of Alaska, the rainforests in Washington, the sprawling forests of the Eastern states, the unique beauty of the Southwest's deserts, and the grandiose Rocky Mountains in my own backyard. Few people in the world's history have been blessed as we have by the sheer beauty of God's creation.

9. "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof..."

When I consider part of my ancestry, I can't help contemplate the notion of religious freedom. I'm a descendent of Mormon pioneers, some of them driven all the way from their homes and farms in New York to the untamed wilderness of Utah. At one time, there was even an extermination order, that any Mormon could be shot, upheld and signed by the governor of Missouri. Even the President of the United States turned blind eye to the plight of my pioneer forebearers in the mid-19th Century.

That said, I don't doubt that the Founders of this country intended our country to be one of religious freedom. They were well aware of the plight of the pilgrims who fled England for religious freedom. So even if my ancestors' religious freedom was ignored by some, it still existed. Today, 180 years since the organization of my church, despite the struggle it faced, I get to worship God without fear. I believe and raise my family "according to the dictates of my own conscience", and I "allow all men the same privilege, let them worship how, where, or what they may." I love that our country doesn't enforce a specific religion and that it allows its citizens to choose for themselves whatever religion (or no religion, for that matter) they see fit.

8. "I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

I love the idea of the melting pot of America, when people bring the colorful, awesome things about their heritage and then add that to the American experience. I have no problem with immigration, so long as it is done through the right, legal channels. We do need immigration reform, but that can be discussed in a different post. All I'm trying to say is that I love that we have a diverse culture. One of my brothers put it well when he commented about the United States team at the World Cup: they were one of the only teams that didn't look similar - the team was mishmash of different cultures and races, unified as Americans.

No matter where you stand on the issue today, we are a nation of immigrants. I find few things more inspiring than the notion of "the American dream", where one can leave a place that holds no growth or opportunity and come to America to realize his/her ambitions and goals. If you are an American, you are are a result of immigration (well, unless you're Native American. But that's awesome on another level). Even my husband's ancestors, steeped in American history and found among the passengers of the Mayflower, were immigrants. My ancestry is predominantly Scandinavian -- on my mother's side, I'm only third-generation American on most lines. My own great-grandmother, who I met as a baby, had the experience similar to the one pictured above -- she left her Prussian homeland, not knowing a word of English, and sailed with only a trunk of belongings at the turn of the 20th Century. She came from a life of hardship, from a condition imposed by her social class, and became an American. She realized the American dream -- it wasn't free of difficulty or trial, but she made her own life here. She got the fresh start that America has long offered "the huddled masses yearning to breathe free."

7. "Peace Through Strength"
When I called my brother, Matt, about writing this post and asked him what he thought made America awesome, the first thing he said was guns. I rolled my eyes because I thought he wasn't taking me seriously and that he was giving me some kind of joking redneck answer (he did say it with a redneck accent). He also happens to be my Rambo brother, the Army Ranger and Green Beret, and a proud member of the NRA. I laughed at his answer and said, "No, really, Matt" and he repeated his answer (but not in the redneck voice this time). And then he told me why.

"Heather," he said, "Have you ever looked at the American Seal?" I said "Of course", but I wasn't sure where he was going (I might add, he is a history/politics geek like me - except smarter). "If you notice, the eagle is holding an olive branch in one foot and the arrows in another. The eagle is turned toward the olive branch because we're a peace-loving nation. But we're willing to fight for it if we have to."

He proceeded to tell me about how few nations allow their citizens to own guns, how few governments trust their citizens to defend themselves when necessary. The Second Amendment reads (Matt said I should make this reason #2 on my list), "A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed." The notion that a nation, in its very founding documents, would acknowledge that its citizens have to right to bear arms to maintain a free State, that is to fight against tyranny should it arise, is pretty incredible. I know this is a touchy subject for people. Gun crimes are awful; gun accidents, particularly with children, are devastating. But to brush off this Amendment is not only a disservice, but ignorant. I can't help but think the Founders put this Amendment right after religious freedom and freedom of press for a reason.

6. "Voting is a civic sacrament."

If I lived during the 1700s, in years leading up to and during the Revolutionary War, I would have been a pamphleteer. In the 1800s, I would have been an abolitionist. And I'm quite certain, if I lived during the last half of the 1800s and the early 1900s, I would have been a suffragist.

I love voting. I firmly believe in it. A lot of people say the United States is a democracy. They are wrong. The United States of America is a republic. That's why, on Election Day, it's so crucial to vote for our representatives. A democracy is a form of government where the people directly decide policy through hall meetings, ballots, and referendums, A republic is different because it is a system where we choose representatives who make policy decisions on our behalf. The Founders did this for a reason. In the Federalist papers, James Madison wrote, that pure democracies "have ever been spectacles of turbulence and contention; have ever been found incompatible with personal security or the rights of property; and have in general been as short in their lives as they have been violent in their deaths" (Federalist No. 10).

Voting is crucial to our form of government. It is our voice, it is our say. If we don't speak up when our representatives are chosen, we lose an important opportunity. Because we choose our representatives, they work for us. Every time I vote, I feel a surge of pride. As a woman, especially, I feel a deep gratitude to vote -- out of the millions of women who have walked this earth, women who have largely been ignored, I actually get to have my voice heard. Sure, sometimes I don't feel like it makes a difference and sometimes I vote for a third-party, well aware that the person I'm voting for won't win, but I love being able to draw my line in the sand and, with my vote, say, "I have listened to the arguments. I have done my research. Here is where I stand."

5. "Congress shall make no law . . . . abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances."

My blog is proof enough of the awesomeness of the First Amendment. I can say whatever I want. I think Barack Obama is taking the country in the wrong direction. I'll take it a step further: I think he's an awful president. I think the health care bill that was passed is unconstitutional and horribly flawed. I think Congress and the President will botch immigration reform. I think the government is inserting itself too much into our lives and the private sector. I think we're spending way too much money, that the stimulus was a joke, and that the leaders of this country are going about the wrong way in trying to fix the economy.

I'm not saying all this to stir things up, but to demonstrate that I can say anything I want without fear. When I attended my first protest last year, I wasn't afraid; I was proud. Last year, I wrote to my senator, basically telling him I thought he was losing focus and that I wasn't sure I'd vote for him again. In return, I got a personal letter -- not a threat or punishment. As a kid, when I started to understand what it meant to live in a free country, I think this was the first principle I really understood: that I could speak without trepidation and I could write whatever I wanted. Yes, I would have definitely been a pamphleteer alongside Thomas Paine.

4. "Praise the Pow'r that hath made and preserved us a nation!"

It is one of my deeply held beliefs that America's founding was through divine inspiration. From what I've read, watched, listened to, and studied, the founding of America is miraculous. How all the Founders agreed on the Constitution is a miracle in itself. Can you even imagine something like that coming together now? How is it that a group of men, with differing viewpoints and beliefs, could come together in agreement? And not just any agreement, but how a nation should function! It wasn't easy, but it's still amazing. Top that with the fact that the colonists severed ties with Britain, the most powerful nation on earth, and actually won a war against them! It almost doesn't stand to logic. I believe that God had a hand in the founding of this country, that he enlightened the minds of the men and women (like Abigail Adams. Wow.) who helped establish it.

I recently read an awesome quote from Benjamin Franklin along these lines, of the hand of God in our nation's founding. Franklin made an appeal for daily prayers in the Constitutional Convention, saying, "If a sparrow cannot fall to the ground without His notice, is it probable that an empire can rise without His aid? I believe without His concurring aid we shall succeed in this political building no better than the building of Babel." Awesome.

3. "Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it."

This reason could be lumped together with #4, but I just had to say that one of the things I love most about America is our awesome history. I will be the first to admit that it's not perfect. America has definitely made its share of mistakes and still suffers today because of them. But, for the most part, the history of our country is an incredible one, full of amazing stories, speeches, and people.

The story of George Washington's leadership of a rag-tag army of farmers and tradesmen. John and Abigail Adams's partnership and influence on the founding of America. Patrick Henry's impassioned, "Give me liberty or give me death!" The rise of the railsplitter Abraham Lincoln to the presidency of the United States. The collaboration of the Underground Railroad and the struggle of the Civil War. The attack on Pearl Harbor. D-Day in Normandy. Martin Luther King Jr.'s speech at the Lincoln Memorial. Ronald Reagan's appeal to Gorbechev to "Tear down this wall", culiminating in the peaceful end of the Cold War. And who can forget the harrowing day of September 11th, when all of us were forced to remember what war feels like again. Just a few moments in an incredible, but short, history. I can't get enough of it.
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2. "As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free."

Anyone who knows me or has read this blog for a period of time, knows of the soft spot I have for the members of the military. I come from a proud heritage of soliders: my maternal grandfather (who passed away just a month ago) fought in the South Pacific during World War II, my paternal grandfather served during the Korean War, and my father served twenty honorable years in the army, in a career that spanned the Vietnam War, the Cold War, and the Gulf War. Now my own brother serves our country during this time of war. I am beyond proud of them all.

Our military is the greatest on earth due, among many factors, to the fact that it made of up volunteers. The idea of someone being willing to sacrifice everything on my behalf, for the good of the country, in the name of freedom is not only admirable, but Christlike. Sure, each soldier has his reasons and gain from serving, but at its very essence, military service is just that: service. Our nation is what it is, in many respects, because of the efforts of our men and women in uniform, who "in liberating strife, who more than self their country loved, and mercy more than life". Everything I enjoy and love that's on this list is preserved by them.

1. "Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness"

I know I've mentioned this writer and shared this quote before, but it bears repeating. The words of a French-American farmer, St. Jean de Crèvecœur, who wrote:

"After a foreigner from any part...is arrived, and become a citizen; let him devoutly listen to the voice of our great parent, which says to him, 'Welcome to my shores, distressed European; bless the hour in which thou didst see my verdant fields, my fair navigable rivers, and my green mountains! - If thou wilt work, I have bread for thee; if thou will be honest, sober, and industrious, I have greater rewards to confer on thee - ease and independence. I will give thee fields which to feed and clothe thee; a comfortable fireside to sit by, and tell thy children by what means thou hast prospered; and a decent bed to repose on. I shall endow thee beside the immunities of a freeman. If thou wilt carefully educate thy children, teach them gratitude to God, and reverence to that government, that philanthropic government, which has collected here so many men and women and made them happy'."

Rugged, American individualism. The land of opportunity. In America, your life can be whatever you make it to be. If you work hard and try your best, you can do just about anything. It's hard, sometimes extremely hard, but it's possible. As St. Jean de Crèvecœur wrote, if you work, if you will be your best, you can reap your rewards. That, in my opinion, is essence of America, the heritage and tradition passed on to me by my forebearers. I hope I will carry it forward.

My List of Things that Must Go -- Part 4

2010-06-24T14:47:00.012-06:00

Whenever I'm in a crappy mood, writing a list of things that irk me somehow makes me feel better. I don't know why. It's cathartic, I guess. So, here it is. Hopefully, my mood will improve.

1. Radio commercials that are fake interviews/conversations, phone calls, or 'news' broadcasts.

Here's an example of a fake conversation ad (for the full effect, imagine this being read -- not acted -- in a montone voice):

Woman #1: *Sigh* Hi, how's it going? Sorry I'm late for my hair appointment.
Woman #2: Oh no!! What's wrong?!
#1: My tooth. It hurts so bad. I should go to the dentist, but, I just hate going to the dentist. Going to the dentist is just no fun. I wish I could find a dentist that made me feel comfortable. You know how uncomfortable it is to go to the dentist.
#2: You should go to my dentist!
#1: Really, what's his name? How can I contact him? What's his number?
#2: Why it's {insert name of dentist}. His number is 1-800-bla-blah, or you could go to his website at www.yadayadayada.com. He also has easy financing on the spot for all your dental needs!
#1: Oh wow! What was that number again?
#2: {repeats phone number five more times}
Another woman eavesdropping: I'm sorry, I missed that number, what was it again?
{Woman #2 repeats the phone number and website four more times}

I don't know why they drive me so crazy. It's not just dentists (no rabid anti-dentite here). There are a ton of them these kind of ads for window companies, weight loss plans, mortgage refinancing, etc. There's got to be other ways to advertise. Being on the radio, they are a little limited in their resources, I get that. But, please, please, stop with the fake conversations, the fake interviews, and the fake "we interrupt this broadcast for..." commercials. And please, make the car commercial guy stop yelling. Thank you for your cooperation.

2. Family portraits on printed ads.
Now that I mentioned the dentist commercial, it got me thinking about another thing that must go. Why is that dentists and orthodontists have to include a family portrait with their advertisements? Seriously, next time you see an ad for a dentist or orthodontist, see if there's a family portrait. Chance are, it's there. Now you'll notice it all the time like I do and if you're neurotic like me, it'll drive you crazy too. Bwahahahahaha!

3. The term 'baby bump'.
I hate this phrase. Mostly in the context of celebrities. I can't explain exactly why. It's just stupid. It reminds me tabloids and TV shows like Access Hollywood. "OMG! Look who's sporting a baby bump!" As if pregnancy is an accessory. Dumb.

4. DVD menus that don't let you skip to the movie.
You know, when you have to watch the FBI warning and the opening thing for the production company. Sure it's only like thirty extra seconds, but still. Drives me nuts. The worst example of this is my yoga DVD I have: you have to watch the FBI warning, the 30-second animation sequence thing for the production company, the medical disclaimer, then titles (along with New Age music), THEN the introduction by the instructor. It won't let me skip through it. So, I blame that for why don't do that video regularly. Well that and the fact that when I do the sun salutation, my son seems to think it's an invitation to climb all over my back. Oh yeah, and my cat likes to attack me when I do yoga DVDs. I don't know why, but he does. I have a scar on my foot to prove it. Ask me, I'll show it to you. Wow, kinda strayed off topic there...

5. Ice Cream Trucks.
The whole idea behind them is purely awesome. I mean, a guy with ice cream to sell, driving around your neighborhood, practically delivering it to you? What more could a kid want? I know when I was a kid, there was something almost magical about hearing the ice cream truck on a summer afternoon. But, really, they're only awesome in theory now.

If only the ice cream trucks today were like this picture, all Norman Rockwell-esque, they wouldn't be on my list. I don't even think they were like this when I was little kid in the 1980s. Now that I'm a full-fledged grown-up, ice cream men and trucks aren't magical at all. They're just übercreepy. Whenever I see them, they're these run-down vans, with a bunch of faded stickers on the side, complete with surly looking drivers (not that I totally blame them -- I'd be a little surly listening to that music all day). Ice cream trucks are the stuff of horror movies.

Aside from the creepiness factor, they get annoying when they circle your neighborhood over and over. And they're in my neighborhood CONSTANTLY. The other day, the ice cream truck was making the rounds playing Christmas music. I was doing my dishes and suddenly I hear, "Deck the Halls" playing over loudspeakers. I ask you, why on earth does an ice cream truck even have Christmas music on its playlist? It's not like they do the rounds in December! Then there was the ice cream truck a few weeks ago that played music and then issued a creepy, valley-girl kind of voice from its speakers, calling out, "Hello? Hel-loooo??" Freaky. (One aside: there was that time when I was digging in my flowerbed and an ice cream truck drove by playing "Music Box Dancer". For a split second, I was Beatrix Kiddo planting flowers.)

6. Social hour at the gym.
I have to be honest. When I go the gym (albeit, not as regularly as I should lately, but that's changing), I go out of my way to not talk to anyone. It's 6:30 in the morning, my bedhead hair has been pulled into some semblance of a ponytail, I'm wearing a t-shirt I got from a blood drive, and the huge zit on my chin/forehead is protruding in all its unconcealed glory. I stick my earbuds in my head and crank up my iPod and get my workout done. From the looks of the place, I'm not in the minority. Most people go looking like I do (thinner or more muscular maybe) and sweat out their hour at the gym.

But then there are the people who hang out there. Sure, I see some of the same people regularly because they go when I do, but there's a few people I see there a lot, at varied times. Like the one guy with the mullet and long mustache who wears 80's style tank tops and chucks his weights on the floor when he's done. Or the guy who looks like a graying Hulk Hogan, complete with gold chains. And then there's the woman, who looks about in her mid-thirties and kind of mannish, who's usually there with one of them.

It's not like I care what they do with their spare time, but it drives me nuts how they just sit on the machines and talk, sometimes not even lifting anything. The lady usually sits on that machine that works your hamstrings (you know, the one where you lay on your stomach) and the Hulk Hogan guy sits at the abs machine, and they just talk. Then they rotate together, do a couple reps on the machine, and then gab away for like 15 minutes. I'm trying to move through my weights workout quickly and they always seem to be on the one I need. What do I do? I can only look at them and hope they notice my dramatic sigh of annoyance so many times. Never works.
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Ahhhh...feelling much better. Mood improving. Stress relieved. Meltdown averted.

Seven Years Ago in Manti...

2010-06-14T23:03:00.002-06:00

...I married the love of my life. As much as I loved him on our wedding day, I love him more with each passing anniversary. He is, in every respect, my other half.

One of my favorite quotes about true love:

"If the old fairy-tale ending, 'They lived happily ever after' is taken to mean 'They felt for the next fifty years exactly as they felt the day before they were married', then it says what probably never was nor ever would be true, and would be highly undesirable if it were. Who could bear to live in that excitement for even five years? What would become of your work, your appetite, your sleep, your friendships? But, of course, ceasing to be 'in love' need not mean ceasing to love. Love in this second sense--love as distinct from 'being in love'--is not merely a feeling. It is a deep unity, maintained by the will and deliberately strengthened by habit; reinforced by the grace which both partners ask, and receive, from God. They can have this love for each other even at those moments when they do not like each other; as you love yourself even when you do not like yourself . . . 'Being in love' first moved them to promise fidelity: this quieter love enables them to keep the promise. It is on this love that the engine of marriage is run: being in love was the explosion that started it."
- C.S. Lewis, from Mere Christianity

In Stitches

2010-05-13T18:49:00.009-06:00

A few years ago, my mother-in-law gave me (technically, it was for our family, but I figured mostly for me) an awesome Christmas gift: a brand-new sewing machine. A heavy-duty, highly-rated sewing machine. Not only did she give me that, but she also included a fully-equipped sewing box, full of scissors, pins, pincushions, thimbles, thread, you name it. She even got me a rotary cutter and mat. I loved it. I was touched. I was afraid. Very afraid. That piece of machinery can be pretty intimidating.

My late grandmother was a master seamstress. At least, I remember her so. She made all sorts of fun things - she even sold some of her work at a store called Mormon Handicraft in Downtown Salt Lake, across the street from Temple Square. To this day, I have a few of her handmade Christmas ornaments and we put them on our tree every year. I remember her sewing station set up in a room in her basement and hanging out in there, loving the one-on-one time with Grandma (I was really young then - she died when I was five. I'm always surprised by how clear my memories of her are). I vividly remember listening to the drum-hum of her sewing machine, fascinated by it and how fast the needle moved.

My mother, the daughter of this master seamstress, will be the first to admit she didn't follow in her mom's footsteps. She knows the basics, but her sewing abilities are somewhat limited. Though I must give credit where credit is due: when I was in second grade, she made me a rockin Batgirl costume; the cape, mask (made out of old spandex bike shorts. It was the late 80s/early 90s - there was an abundance of spandex back then), and utility belt are currently in the costume box in my son's room.

Oddly enough, I remember my dad using the sewing machine more regularly than my mom. He was always using it to sew patches on his army uniform, but he did other things. My dad can make a mean quilt. Really. He's got an entire patchwork quilt made entirely of old pairs of jeans from every member in the family. When I left for college, my dad made me a quilt and a matching pillowcase. What a guy!

Anyway, I've always been fascinated by people who could sew. How someone could make something from a few yards of fabric with some thread has always been incredible to me. I always wanted to be able to sew, but it seemed too hard. Plus, my botched sewing project from seventh grade home-ec did nothing to bolster my confidence. I remember trying to make that stupid windsock, but the machine moved so quickly and there were other people waiting in line for me to finish using it. In the end, I had my friend, Emmy, finish it up for me so I could get credit. From that point on, I was spooked by the sewing machine.

A few months ago, though, I became interested in sewing. I'm not entirely sure how this came about. It may have had something to do with the blog, SouleMama. I loved how she made things for her family, how she made her home seem so personal through sewing. I subsequently bought her book, Handmade Home, and was thoroughly convinced that I had to bite the bullet and learn to sew. Conveniently, my sister-in-law (an amazing quilter) gave me sewing lessons as a Christmas gift.. One evening, she showed me how to work the machine, showed me the basics of cutting material, and I made this project from Handmade Home:

It's a rag bag - you put all your cleaning rags in it. I was amazed that I could make something that actually looked like the example in the book! And I realized that sewing isn't nearly as scary as I thought. I also learned that sewing machines have erasers - they're called seam-rippers (and, boy, do I use mine...). I still get paranoid about cutting material wrong, but even that's getting easier.

I've made a few more things since then. Like the placemats I cut and sewed during the Sunday session of General Conference...

Along with bathroom rugs, potholders, a crayon roll, warmer packs, and Max's "Scripture Power bag" (as he calls it), to name a few.

And, my latest creation (and one I'm really proud of), the gardening apron I made my mom for Mother's Day.

I got the idea and how-to from an awesome book called One Yard Wonders - it's full of really cool projects you can make with a single yard of fabric for each (with some to spare). I couldn't think of anything I really wanted to get my mom for Mother's Day and then I saw this in the book and I knew it would be perfect. The best part is that it's one-of-a-kind.

None of the projects I've done so far are super-complicated -- they're all fairly easy, to be honest -- but I find the whole process so satisfying. Satisfying enough that my husband moved his art desk from our office and let me set up a sewing table/area there instead. This is something I see myself doing years in the future. Now, if I ever get the urge to make something (which happens fairly regularly lately), I just go to my sewing table.

Way better than toting all my stuff downstairs and using our coffee table as a sewing table.

Not only do I love creating things that are unique and personal (I call the mistakes and imperfections my 'human touch), but sewing totally de-stresses me. I struggle with anxiety and this has helped me a ton. Since the whole process is something new and it doesn't come really easily to me, I have to focus 100% on what I'm doing. Sewing does wonders for clearing my head. Sure, I get stressed out and angry at my machine when it de-threads itself, but I still enjoy it. It's a shocking thing - I thought this was something I'd never be able to do. My next crafty endeavor: I'm going to practice knitting, starting this fall (not really fun to knit sweaters and scarves in the summer, you know?).

I don't know if I'll ever be great at sewing. I don't know if I'll ever dare to make clothing for anyone. I'm 99.9% positive I won't be one of those ladies who can sew wedding dresses and all. And I'm totally fine with that. The other day, my mom said, "Looks like you've got some of your grandma in you." That was enough.

Quote of the Week: Mother's Day Edition

2010-05-09T15:59:00.008-06:00

"It's a strange thing, but somehow we expect more of girls than of boys. It is the sisters and wives and mothers, you know, Caddie, who keep the world sweet and beautiful. What a rough world it would be if there were only men and boys in it, doing things in their rough way! A woman's task is to teach them gentleness and courtesy and love and kindness. It's a big task, too, Caddie -- harder than cutting trees or building mills or damming rivers. It takes nerve and courage and patience, but good women have those things. They have them just as much as the men who build bridges and carve roads through the wilderness. A woman's work is something fine and noble to grow up to, and it is just as important as a man's." --exerpt from Caddie Woodlawn, by Carol Ryrie Brink

My own mother might as well have written those words - it was a lesson she taught me over and over when I was growing up (in a house full of boys, no less). Words alone can never express my gratitude for my mom. I am who I am because of her.

Happy Mother's Day.

Meanwhile....

2010-04-28T12:15:00.003-06:00

Does anyone out there still have any doubt that I love Matt Bellamy? Having the Muse post at the top of my blog for the last...oh, I don't know...almost month probably communicated that adequately enough. I've been meaning to write - really, I have - but I have been busy for the following reasons (in no particular order):

The weather was in the 70s in April. Heaven. Granted, it also snowed (and is snowing today where I'm at) in April, but still, temps in the 60s and 70s are lovely.
My novel! I actually should be working on it right now. At this very second, my first draft of my book is at 76,921 words. I'm about 2/3 through it. Still pushing for the June deadline I set back in January. It's not likely to happen, but here's hopin'.
I've been trying to catch up with my family blog. Yeah, still working on that. By the way, if you want an invite to my family blog, let me know. One caveat - I have to know you. What can I say? It's one exclusive invitation.
I've actually found something crafty I enjoy. It totally de-stresses me. And no, it's not tole-painting (that's what always pops into my mind when I think of the word craft or crafty: 80's-style Relief Society Homemaking Night tole painting).
When I'm not writing my book, catching up on my family blog, working out in the yard, playing with the boy in said yard, working on a newfound crafty side of me (more on that in a future post) and trying to keep my house clean and the family fed, I'm still thinking about my book. I have to finish it. All the characters are starting to get mad at me for taking so long to give them their conclusion (even though one of them doesn't know I'm going to kill them toward the end). Sounds crazy, but read Bird by Bird (my go-to writing guide) and then you'll understand what I mean. Seriously, I'm feeling a little obsessed with my novel lately. My husband's been reading it and I guess I'm not the only one who thinks it's pretty good. And believe me, if anything stinks in my book, he'll tell me; those who know my husband well know that he can be kinda critical about any creative endeavor, whether it's a book, movie, album, video game, or work of art. I only mention this so I don't feel like I'm building it up too much or being biased in my thinking that it's awesome. Speaking of things that are awesome....

Here's the meanwhile:

Until I can find some free space in my brain and schedule to update my blogs more regularly (even my frugal blog hasn't been updated as consistently as I'd like), you have to check out this new site I found called 1000 Awesome Things. Doesn't require much explanation - just a list of 1000 awesome things (along with some the reasons why). Every day, the author focuses on one of the 1000 things. I love it. I think you will. Check it out. In the meantime, I'll try to write on this blog more than twice a month, but I make no promises.

On to word, 76,922....

Me and Muse

2010-04-08T21:56:00.013-06:00

This past Monday, April 5, I saw my favorite band, the one and only Muse, in concert.

I didn't take a single picture. Not one.

I was so conflicted. Should I take the camera and be distracted the whole time about getting the right shot, even with all the people in General Admission shoving me around? Or should I just leave the camera in the car and just enjoy the experience? Well, obviously, I took the latter approach. So many times during the show I wished for my cameras, kicking myself for being so stupid. It was such a spectacle. It seemed a shame to not have the cameras (photo and video camera) to document the experience.

Then again, somethings are just better remembered as a memory. I think in our society, in this day and age, we are so eager to document every. single. thing. on camera or video because it's so easy. Digital cameras let us take thousands of pictures, whereas we couldn't before with pesky film rolls. We have a little video camera (kind of like one of those Flip cameras, only a Kodak) now; back in high school, ten years ago, we used big, heavy camcorders for our television broadcasting class. Now it's just fits in the palm of my hand. And then there's the whole camera phone. But why do we have to document everything. Even as I watched the concert, I felt so mad at myself that I wouldn't have the pictures of me at the Muse concert to post on Facebook and my blog. But why?

I never felt such an urge with the concerts I'd been to before. I didn't bother with cameras eight years ago when I went to concerts semi-regularly. I was still using disposable cameras (remember those?) back then. I didn't feel this pressing need to document the experience. I just experienced it. And honestly, my memories of those shows I went to back in my single-girl college days are awesome. I wonder if I had the pictures of me and my friends at the Weezer concert, all punked out in our thrift store finds and all of us wearing more eyeliner than usual, if I would think we looked as cool as I remember. I remember very clearly clamoring to get as close to the lead singer of Dashboard Confessional one time (oh boy, did I think he was something back in those days. Outgrew that phase pretty quickly.) - would it make a difference if I'd filmed it with a phone? Probably not. Again, it might not be as fun as a memory if I had. There's no way to really document what it was like to get totally soaked in the rain at an outdoor Ben Harper concert (not to mention how I felt slightly buzzed from all the second-hand pot - at an outdoor concert.). And no camera or video could adequately capture what it was like to see U2 take the stage all those years ago and what it was like to be in the same room as Bono (granted, I was in the nosebleed section) and listen to him (and the crowd) sing "Pride" and "One". I didn't need a camera or video - I won't forget it. So I figure my Muse experience will be like all my other concert experiences - they'll just get better (and more legendary in my mind) as time goes by.

But moving on to more important matters...

I was only thirty-feet away from this guy. *sigh* Matt Bellamy is one of my top three brain crushes. Don't worry - my husband is fully aware of this and ignored my swoony moments during the show. (My husband just happens to be #1, in case you were wondering. He is one super-talented guy. He actually put the picture at the top of this post together.) What is a brain crush, you ask? Well, you see, I'm a big nerd and I get giddy about certain guys' brains. Some women will drool over the shirtless guys in the newest Twilight movie; I will swoon at a witty political comment or a beautiful piano solo.

Which brings me back to Matt Bellamy. He's a musical genius. One minute he's tearing it up on his guitar *sigh* and then he starts playing classical piano. *double sigh*. But it goes further than that - there's something about Muse's music that just appeals to me creatively (note: I felt this way before I knew Stephenie Meyer was a fan of them. But when I read her dedication to them, I totally agreed). I can't tell you how many scenes and chapters I've written and rewritten while listening to them. Like lately - I can't stop playing "City of Delusion" over and over because it's helping me so much with this certain scene in my book. I'm gushing way too much about this guy, aren't I? Like I said, he's one of my main brain crushes. What do you expect?

Anyway, my husband and I held our own in the General Admission section. Sure, I got stepped on and shoved around, but I kept my perfect spot (I even shoved a guy that kept trying to mosh next to me. Yes, I'm hard-core, I know). I was close enough to see the band members' expressions and everything. It was incredible. Obviously, this video below isn't from the show I went to (this was filmed at Wembley Stadium), but it gives you a taste of what they're like live, if you're interested. They were just as good at the show I went to as they are in the video.

The only problem was that I had this sort of hangover the next morning, from being overstimulated by the whole experience: watching the three guys in the band (all super-dynamic performers - I should give them all credit), the awesome (and crazy-loud) music, jumping and shouting with the crowds, watching all the cool lighting and effects, and the feeling of being out and doing something I'd loved in my pre-married, pre-motherhood days. The next morning, I felt a little let down. I'd been waiting and waiting for this concert (I'd bought my ticket in October, the day they went on sale). And then it was suddenly over. What did I have to look forward to now? All I had was a sink full of dishes and some laundry to do.

But, luckily and thankfully, the feelings of discontent passed and I'm happy with my life again. Once again, I'm cool with doing the laundry, playing with trains, listening to the songs from The Little Mermaid (my son's current favorite movie) for the bazillionth time, and working in my garden. Better yet, ever since the show, I've been going full speed with my novel and I think I'll have my first draft FINALLY finished soon. And one other thing I learned from going to this show: I'm going to let myself have fun like that more often.

In My Garden, Thinking about Easter

2010-04-03T22:28:00.005-06:00

Just a few of the highlights of my yard today...

- I discovered my little grape hyacinths today. First flower of the year. -

-- The pussy willow is still covered in soft, grey buds, but now dusted with yellow pollen. --

--My spring tradition: planting pansies in the pots on my porch.--

-- Max, in his new gardening gloves (one of his Easter presents from us), helped me this year. Just when I think the little guy can't get any better...--

-- He planted this little pot all by himself. He's a natural!--

-- And I noticed today that I have baby lilacs!--

As I was outside, in the fresh (and chilly) air with dirt under my fingernails, all I could keep thinking about was a quote I read recently,

"Our Lord has written the promise of the Resurrection, not in books alone, but in every leaf in springtime." - Martin Luther

Happy Easter.

Things I Love Right Now

2010-03-28T22:32:00.007-06:00

Just a few of the things that currently make me happy...

1. The weather. It could stay 60 degrees forever and I'd be totally content.

2. Gardening again.

3. Not being sick. I had a nasty bug for the last week and a half. My throat was so sore and my tonsils so swollen, I could hardly talk or eat. I was also crazy-congested - I felt like someone was sitting on my face. Plus, I couldn't stop coughing, even though I felt better in every other way. I went to my local caucus last Tuesday and couldn't stop coughing until some complete stranger gave me a piece of gum. Nice.

4. Having a potty trained child. *Insert choir of angels singing.*

5. The Pioneer Woman Cooks. Everything I've made in this cookbook rocks.

6. Particularly the sour cream pancakes from #5. Third Sunday in a row that I've made them for breakfast. Ridiculously good.

7. Having the windows open in the house all day and letting the fresh air circulate. I feel like we're coming out of hibernation.

8. Leggings. Surprisingly comfy. Plus, they make me feel stylish. Haven't felt that way in a while.

9. This video on YouTube. Blast from the past. How is it that this movie came out 15 years ago?

10. I'm going to see Muse in concert on April 5th!!!

11. Listening to my little guy sing. He sings all the time. The other day, he sang to every song on his playlist (I have a playlist on my iPod called the "Max Mix" that's full of Disney, Sesame Street, Primary, and other children's songs) that came on during the 40-minute drive to my parents' house. I love his little singing voice more than I can say.

12. Speaking of cars and driving to parents' houses, I love driving anywhere with my husband because I love just sitting and talking with him. Just got back from his parents' house and had an really awesome, inspiring conversation.

13. The uncooked flour tortillas at Costco. Delish. And way better than the cooked ones.

14. That General Conference is this weekend. What an awesome way to spend Easter weekend. Plus, I need the spiritual battery recharge.

15. Easter. What a beautiful holiday. Really makes me grateful for my Savior.

Just thought you'd like to know. Plus, I was tired of seeing that poster with the cow at the top.

"You are what you eat eats..."

2010-03-16T13:31:00.002-06:00

Last night, as I was curled up into a headachy, crazy-congested, shivering ball on our LoveSac (grrrr...I made it through the whole winter without getting sick. My time was up, I guess), Kevin and I decided to watch the documentary, Food, Inc. (I heart Netflix). All I can say is, wow. I have very strong feelings about the food industry, how animals are mass-produced, and how far our society has strayed from the food our grandparents ate, but I still learned a lot from this movie. And there's just something about actually seeing how food is processed - particularly meat (think chickens hanging on conveyor belts) - that gets you thinking.

I'm not going to tell you everything I found interesting in the movie - it'd take too long. And I'm not going to get on my soapbox and tell you how I feel about the subject (especially when it comes to animals. That's a topic that always starts lively debates with my brothers). One thing I found particularly interesting was how prevalent corn is in our diets. I had an idea, but, again, seeing it for yourself is truly eye-opening.

I thought it was especially interesting to see the effect of feeding animals corn, like cows. Apparently, the whole e. coli problem is mostly a result of feeding cattle corn; if cows are fed grass, the e. coli rate drops significantly (I think they said by 80%) after just five days. I also loved the farmer in Shenandoah Valley, Virginia, that was interviewed (especially the part where he talks about how he got in trouble for working in 'unsanitary conditions' because they were outside). Anyway, like I said, I would go into all the things I found really interesting, but I think you should watch it for yourself.

Reading In Defense of Food by Michael Pollan (who is in this documentary) really got me thinking about how we approach food (I wrote more about it in a review last year). I always tried to buy wholesome, healthy foods for my family, but that book really got me thinking about food and nutrition in a new way. Healthy eating isn't all about a certain quota of nutrients and vitamins. Instead, according to Pollan, if you eat whole foods, avoid the super-processed stuff, and eat responsibly (as in, sustainably), a healthy, balanced diet will be the natural result/byproduct. We've gotten so bogged down by the science of nutritionism (which is interesting, of course) that we become more concerned about eating something because it's 'fat-free' instead of being concerned that it was mostly concocted in a lab. As Pollan puts it, we'd be on the right track nutritionally if we just followed his three guidelines: Eat food. Mostly Plants. Not too much.

Okay, that said, I thought I would add my little disclaimer about a few things in the documentary that irked me...

1. The documentary seemed to take a stance that more government regulation will fix the problems in the food industry. More government bureaucracy and regulations won't fix anything, or at least in an effective way. There are just too many special interest groups and affiliations embedded in the systems. I believe that plants and farms that consistently produce tainted products should be fined and even closed down, but just doing that won't be a permanent solution. Government can try to fix things, but, most of the time (no matter who's in charge), they don't do a very good job at all. It's going to have to come down to people's individual choices and how they affect the food industry. Example: because the demand for milk from cows not treated with the rBST hormone, Walmart's store brand of milk is free of it. Companies will adapt if there's enough demand from us, the consumer. As it says at the the end of the film, we can vote to change the way the food industry works three times a day.

2. I found the section on illegal immigrant workers to be slanted. Sure, many illegal immigrant workers in the food industry are mistreated and that is wrong. The thing that bothered me about the movie is that they seemed to act like the migrant workers are totally blameless, purely victims of the system. You have to have accountability on both sides. If I were in charge (Heather for President 2030!), I would go after the big companies that hire illegal workers, like they suggest in the documentary, but I wouldn't hold them as the only responsible party. As they say, it takes two to tango. I just thought that was a little disingenuous of the movie.

3. The Stonyfield Farm guy just bugged. Can't quite put my finger on why, but he just did.

4. The most irritating part of all, the part that had Kevin and I talking to the television, was when they showed the family that thought fruit and vegetables were too expensive. Their rationale: for $1.00, I only get two or three pears; for that amount of money, we can get four 20-oz. bottles of Pepsi. It was frustrating to watch. But that's not what got us going. The worst part was that after they showed this family, instead of saying that they needed to learn more, the filmmakers blamed all the advertising. They took this attitude like, "Companies have made it hard to resist! We can't blame the people! They're victims of cunning advertising!" Lame. It's like when people blame Saturday morning commercials about sugary cereal for causing childhood obesity. It's not the product, the companies that cause these problems - it's a lack of education! I don't care if you've never read a single book on nutrition, anyone can figure out that sugary soda and hot pink cereal can't be all that great for you. It's not rocket science. I could go on and on about why this mentality, this shift of blame, drives me nuts, but I'll just stop here.

So, the verdict? I'm really glad I watched this film. It taught me a few things, reminded me why I shop/cook/eat the way I do (Kevin turned to me at one point and said, "Maybe we should go vegetarian again..."), and it made me want to be even smarter in my choices as a consumer. Watch it. As the poster for the movie says, "You'll never look at dinner the same way".

Just My Ever-Humble Opinion

2010-03-05T14:42:00.007-07:00

I just may be one of the only people in America who hasn't seen Avatar.

Everyone says it's amazing. A new kind of movie experience. Even my brother, Erik, who dislikes just about every movie ever made (the only movies I can think of that he likes are Real Genius and The Big Lebowski) actually liked it. It's got 82% on Rotten Tomatoes. Roger Ebert -- who I think, of all the critics out there, knows movies better than anyone -- liked it. It's made a ridiculous amount of money. Some people have even been reported to have Avatar-induced depression and suicidal thoughts because they just can't deal with fact that there's no such place as Pandora. It's the buzz of pop-culture right now.

Thing is, I have zero desire to even see it. Zero. Even when the previews came on months before it was released, all I could think was, "Pass." Sure, it looks visually amazing, but the story. Ughhh...the story. It's so cliche. Just from the previews, I could predict the whole movie: some greedy business guy finds a super-valuable resource on a planet occupied by a race of unsuspecting, peaceful natives. The army is called in. One of them is assigned to go undercover, is completely accepted by the aforementioned natives, meets a independent and strong-willed woman of that race, they fall in love, he realizes the natives are right and that the army guys are the real 'bad guys' and he takes up the natives' cause. Natives win. The end. As one review put it, it's basically just Dances with Wolves in space. The movie's almost three hours long - I just got to have a good story; awesome visuals can only go so far. PLUS, the movie has the woman who played Ana Lucia on Lost in it - she's reason enough for me to avoid the movie.

Sure it's visually incredible, but is it Best Picture Oscar-worthy? I mean, it's a cool-looking movie, but Best Picture? It'd be like when Titanic won. Wait a minute....

Anyway, this leads to my next point in this post: who I think should win on Sunday at the Academy Awards. I know, I know...'Finally!' you're thinking, 'She's going to tell us her Oscar picks!'

Best Supporting Actress: Ummmmm...no opinion. I haven't seen any of these movies. Do you have an opinion on this one?

Best Supporting Actor: Christoph Waltz from Inglourious Basterds. Yes, I watched this movie and yes, I know it's R-rated. But, holy crap - this movie is intense! Granted, I had my eyes covered for a good portion of it (I don't do well with lots of blood and gore). In any case, Christoph Waltz as Hans Landa is incredible. He's so scary in this movie, but in a way you wouldn't expect a villain to be scary. I considered taking notes on his performance because he's a lot like the villain in my novel (though Col. Landa is much more frightening). Anyway, Waltz is riveting in this movie and totally deserves to win, hands down.

Best Actress: Meryl Streep -- probably the one of the best actresses on the planet (though I can't help but think of that line in a Seinfeld episode: "Oh that Meryl Streep is such a phony baloney!"). I loved Julie & Julia and I think she played Julia Child amazingly. I think it's quite a feat to play someone like Julia Child and make it seem real and not like a caricature or goofy impression. However, it sounds like everyone thinks Sandra Bullock's going to win for The Blind Side. I didn't see it (it looks like a 'cheap shot' movie that is over-the-top sentimental/inspirational. Call me a cynic, but I just can't stomach movies like that), so I can't really say whether or not she deserves it. I

Best Actor: Hmmmmm....I can't really say because I haven't seen all the movies. In fact, I've only seen one of the movies featuring the Best Actor nominees (though I do want to see Invictus and Up in the Air). That movie was The Hurt Locker and I thought Jeremy Renner was really great. There was something about him that was so engaging and interesting to watch, whether it was during the super-intense IED-diffusing scenes or just his general progression in the film (where you see a more emotional side of them). But then he's also going against Morgan Freeman, George Clooney, and Jeff Bridges (who everyone thinks will win), so it's hard to say. And then there's Colin Firth who will always hold a special place in my heart as Mr. Darcy...*sigh*

Best Director: I want Quentin Tarantino for Inglourious Basterds or Kathryn Bigelow for The Hurt Locker to win this one. Quentin Tarantino has such an interesting style and it's cool to see someone try something unconventional but that's not pretentious. The Hurt Locker is pretty incredible too - after I watched the movie, saw the credits, and realized that a woman directed that movie, I was amazed. Maybe it's sexist to say, but I never expected a woman to make such a gritty, intense war movie like this one. Plus, it'd be cool if she won because she'd be the first woman to ever win the Best Director Oscar.

Best Animated Feature: So many good ones - Up, The Princess and the Frog, Coraline (not to mention Fantastic Mr. Fox - I haven't seen that one, but I really want to). But Up should win, if just for the opening of it, where we witness the love story of Ellie and Carl and their life together. Wow, I'm just typing this and I'm getting all misty. The rest of the movie is pretty good, but those first twenty minutes or so are just so, so beautiful.

Best Picture: So, I have a sneaking suspicion that Avatar will win. Meh. I'll be rooting for either Inglourious Basterds or The Hurt Locker.

Inglourious Basterds is such a fantastic movie - graphic, yes, but still --wow-- a great movie. Like I said previously, I had my eyes covered for a good portion of it (I just had Kevin warn me when all the bloody scenes came on. Yes, there were a bunch, but, for a Tarantino film, it was fairly tame. Certainly not like Pulp Fiction or the first Kill Bill movie. Ick.). What I loved about the movie was how all the various stories weaved together. Plus, the actors were amazing, which made the movie so captivating and fun to watch. Christoph Waltz as Hans Landa, Brad Pitt as Aldo Raine (so funny - he plays the perfect redneck), and Melanie Laurent as Shosanna Dreyfuss (pictured above - she's another actor I wanted to take notes on for my novel. Like the part with her and Col. Landa in the restaurant.. I could barely watch it, but it was awesome!) were my favorites. And really, who doesn't enjoy seeing a bunch of creepy Nazis get what's coming to them?

The Hurt Locker is also a really awesome movie. What I loved most about it is that it was such a real, gritty portrayal of what the war in Iraq is like (or what it was like, since the movie takes place in 2004), but it doesn't have any kind of agenda. It's isn't anti-war, but it doesn't portray the Americans as perfect, either. It's just real. As many of you know, I have a special soft spot in my heart for the men and women that serve in the military and I'm really sensitive to how they're portrayed. Sure, there are lots of soldiers that aren't great people by any stretch of the imagination, but most of them are good men and women willing to sacrifice everything for their country. So when American soldiers, especially in movies about the current wars, are just generally defamed in movies and treated as villains, it gets my blood boiling. There's so much more to the whole experience with Iraq than just politics. The Hurt Locker creates such a great balance - it gives you such a feel for the the U.S. troops serving in Iraq and the difficulty they face, but it also gives you an insight to what it must feel like to live there as an Iraqi citizen. I'd totally recommend this movie to anyone (though it does use the f-word prolifically - but, according to my Army brother, that's pretty much how it is) because it's such an interesting insight into what has happened over there and what our brave troops have to still deal with.

Ever since I married Kevin, I've become a bit of a film buff. I love talking about and analyzing movies. However, I'm not big on celebrities or award shows - I think it's a little silly that actors get so much attention and ceremony. But there is something about the Oscars that is fun, in an old Hollywood kind of way. I haven't bothered to watch the Oscars for the last few years, but this year might be a little more interesting. We'll just have to see...

Worst Card Ever.

2010-02-22T18:27:00.015-07:00

I got a super-personal card from our insurance agent today. How's this for a birthday greeting...

Nothing says hooray for your birthday better than, "On this day in history the Nazi party was organized." Wow.

Oh wait, there's another historical event that happened on February 24th...

The House of Representatives voted to impeach President Andrew Johnson in 1868. Double wow.

Just out of sheer curiosity, I decided to find out why Andrew Johnson was impeached. No use. The Wikipedia article was just too boring. But, here's a comical political cartoon from the day that explains it all...

Hilarious. I'll give you a minute to collect yourself.

I also found out that I share a birthday with a couple celebrities - Steve Jobs (founder of Apple) and...

Abe Vigoda.

Inside the card, it listed all sorts of interesting things about my birth year of 1982. Like how some soap opera called 'The Doctors" ended that year. That Graceland was opened the public. Or how the 'maximum speedometer reading was mandated at 85 mph." Oh yeah, Jane Fonda's (*cough* communist *cough*) workout videos were popular then, too.

Well, if you didn't catch the sarcasm by now (despite me laying it on pretty thick), my first card for my 28th birthday didn't leave me feeling too excited about the date February 24th, let alone the year 1982. So I decided to do a little research.

Not much to report about February 24th. Pretty uneventful. Coincidentally, I learned that on February 24, 786 A.D., Pepin the Short of Gaul died and his dominions were divided between his sons Charles (Charlemagne) and Carloman. This is significant because Charlemagne just so happens to be my 37th great-grandfather (mind you also, I come from the legitimate line - no concubine great-grandmother here). Also, my birthday falls on Mexican Flag Day. Yet another coincidence: Not only was I born on a flag day, but I also got married on the United States' Flag Day (June 14). As for other celebrities I share a birthday with...well, besides one of the Brothers Grimm (of fairy tale fame), Abe Vigoda and Steve Jobs were at the top of the list. But, I do share my birthday with Kevin's grandfather, so at least that's a plus. From what I've heard, he was a pretty awesome guy.

Yes, the card told me that Arnold Schwarzeneggar starred in his first popular movie, Conan the Barbarian, in 1982. However, the card neglected to mention a few other gems. What about E.T.? Okay, I'm not a fan of that movie. But where we would we be without Poltergeist? Or First Blood, our introduction to Rambo (full disclosure: I've seen First Blood and it's actually a pretty good movie - and surprisingly sad.). That year also gave us The Dark Crystal - which, as a child, scared the crap out of me. And one of my husband's favorite movies, Blade Runner, was made in 1982. That is one heavy show, to be sure. I've seen a couple times and I'm still a little baffled by it. Besides, in addition to all these movies, 1982 also gave us this iconic clip...

Okay, okay - so maybe 1982 wasn't as amazing as other years. But, I think the fact that Michael Jackson's Thriller came out that year redeems it.

And I guess little ol' me coming into the world that year didn't hurt it either...

Speaking of High Heels...

2010-02-06T20:25:00.002-07:00

Apparently, you're supposed to wear them while you do the laundry. And the dishes. Also while cooking. Well, that is, according the book, The Art of Homemaking (it was published in the early sixties). Whenever we go to the thrift store, I always look through the book section and this book is one of my favorite DI finds. For some reason, I just find it hilarious. Like a classic line from the book (in regard to getting ready for the day before breakfast and putting make-up on), "Even a barn looks better with some paint on it." Words to live by...

I mention this because I'm giving away this classic book on my frugal blog (I found another copy of it at the DI a couple weeks ago), along with a jar of my homemade pluot jam (I went overboard this past September and made way too much of it). It's easy to enter and I'm sure you want to win, right? Just thought I'd let you know...

This is a Big Deal. Really.

2010-02-04T02:19:00.005-07:00

I'm 27 years old - at least for 20 more days (Yes, my birthday is on the 24th. Mark your calendars. I like dark chocolate.). Just when I thought a lot of my firsts were behind me, I experienced another first a few days ago: I bought my first pair of high heels.

Now, I wore big clunky clogs (you know, the platformy kind made out of wood) back in high school and in my early college years when they were cool, but never the classic high-heeled shoes. There are a lot of reasons for this. Like...

I'm 5'8". Put me in a pair of high heels and I'm bordering on being six feet tall. Now, if I weighed like 130 pounds and looked all svelte and model-like, I'd flaunt that. Instead, I just feel like a lumbering Amazon woman trying to keep her balance.
My husband is 5'8". Again, that whole Amazon woman thing comes into play. Reminds me of a certain Futurama episode...
I grew up in a house full of boys (only brothers, no sisters). They gave me a hard enough time if I wore make-up. I could only imagine what they would have said if I'd left the house in a pair of pumps. I just avoided that whole situation.
I've never been one to draw attention to my legs. Skinny they are not (not that they're tree trunks, either); more like Chun Li from the old Street Fighter games (sidenote: I'm awesome at those games. I'm a pro button-masher). And I have thick ankles (aka 'cankles'). It's not a weight thing or anything. All the kids in my family have thick ankles - even my super-fit Army Ranger brother. Wearing high heels seems to be drawing unnecessary attention to my legs.
I am quite uncoordinated. I've always figured that if I wear those shoes, I'm just begging to roll an ankle.

It's not like I haven't wanted to wear high heels before. As a little girl, I would look at my mom's church shoes (she had a pair to match every outfit - white, black, and navy blue 80s style pumps) and pine for the day when I could wear high heels and tan nylons (so grown-up!). I see them on other people and I think they look awesome. I'm not sure if I can pull them off. I see other women wearing them and I secretly wish that I was as feminine as the other ladies I see in them. Like the Relief Society chorister in my ward - a couple weeks ago, she was wearing these ridiculously high black heels and I stared at them, admiring them while she led the music. And that's when I had a lightbulb moment. Maybe I should get a pair. What the heck.

So, this Sunday I'll be wobbling to church in my new black high heels. They're not Manolo Blahniks, by any means, but they'll work as my starter pair.

We're DEBT-FREEEEEE!!!! (and other matters of business)

2010-01-28T17:43:00.019-07:00

Yes, that's right. Our family is officially debt-free (not counting the house, of course). We've been struggling with it - just as we would get ahead, the car would need new brakes or a new engine, for that matter (yeah, that sucked). But, karma was on our side and Kevin got his annual bonus after all - we figured we wouldn't get it this year because of the crappy economy. So, we took a big chunk of the money (it was a really good bonus) and paid off the last of our credit card debt and the rest of my student loan (stupid junior year - I didn't get my scholarship because of a technicality. Something about not matriculating in time). Now, we're focused on Baby Step #3 of the Dave Ramsey plan: saving up six-months' worth of expenses. It'll take a while and some discipline, but we can do it. I just got to focus on how incredible finishing those first two steps feels.

Today has been awesome. The bonus came through. We celebrated with a lunch at one of our favorite little places in Salt Lake: Bruges Waffles and Frites. Holy crap. They have THE best fries there. And the waffles? As Kevin put it today, "Those liege waffles are stupid-good." Seriously, the waffles are baked with sugar crystals in them that carmelize in the oven. Divine. Then, we used some of the extra bonus money and got me a little netbook. I love it. Which leads to the point of this post...

Drum-roll please...

My goals and aspirations for 2010!

I can hear you already, saying to yourself, "Finally! I've been waiting for weeks! What is she going to do this year...."

Balance. That is my goal. And, no, not like that guy in the picture. No death wish here.

But seriously, my life has been a little out of whack for a while. If I focus on Max, my house goes to ruins. If I focus on cleaning my house, the television becomes a babysitter. Not good. I rarely buy new clothes for myself, but am more than happy to buy them for Kevin and Max. I haven't gone to the gym in...well, let's just say I've only been once this month. I haven't worked on my novel in like two weeks. And as you may have noticed, I haven't posted on this blog in three weeks; my family blog hasn't been updated in 2010. Plus, there's a bazillion books I want to read, recipes I want to try, and even crafts I want to attempt (I want to be crafty a la Soule Mama. I go to her blog and sigh, both contentedly and in defeat). I also am still the den leader for Webelos (which is better than I thought) and I teach Relief Society. Still, I want to focus more on my spirituality: more prayer, more scripture reading, more study. And then there's wanting to serve more, attend the temple regularly, family history, journal writing. My attention is pulled in so many directions, it's hard to know where to start. I'm feeling overwhelmed writing all of this...

I'm pretty stoked that we've already accomplished the getting debt-free goal so early in the year (we weren't planning on being debt free until about April-May). I also tackled another 2010 goal this month: learning to sew (check out my frugal blog to see my various sewing adventures). There's still so much I want to accomplish, but my main goals are:

Exercise regularly. I'm really pretty good about my diet, so I'm healthy in that respect. But exercise - arrggggh. Not that I don't enjoy it or that I dread it, I just can't get myself to the gym. Once I'm there, I'm so glad, but it's finding the time. I try the mornings, before anything can get in my way, but I just can't motivate myself to get up at 6:00 AM, scrape the frost off our car's windshield, and drive groggily to the gym. Maybe I should just suck it up and go. I'd go in the afternoons, but it's been hard with Kevin working crazy hours for his game's milestone. I had a treadmill once upon a time, but sold it because I had no where to put it (when I bought it, I was under the delusion that I'd actually go run in the garage. Ha!). I guess I could do some workout videos - maybe I could do that in the mornings (I could drag myself out of bed early if I don't have to go outside in the cold) until it warms up. I have to go to the gym - I have a free membership, for Pete's sake! Any suggestions are welcome.

I'm going to finish the first draft of my novel by June. I'm still hovering around 225 pages and I've got at least another couple hundred pages to go. I think I could have finished my first draft by this time (I started last January), but I spent too much time rereading and revising. In my favorite writing book, Bird by Bird, the author says that you need to write a {crappy} first draft (yes, I've edited the term. I usually just call it a S.F.D)and just get the ideas and plot on the page. But I still feel like my first draft should be perfect. That's why it's taking so long. Plus, that whole balance thing - I need to make time for writing my novel, but I'm just so not good at scheduling my day. I got my cute Toshiba netbook with some extra bonus money to get me all pumped about my book, plus it's way more portable than the laptop I was using (very important since I seem to do my best writing away from home). My novel is awesome - I think it's a really great story and I honestly believe it could get published someday, but I just need to get the rest of the story out of my head and onto my computer.

In my quest to be more balanced, I want to stick to a daily routine. Nothing set in stone - I'm not the to-do list type (not that there's anything wrong with that) and I like to have some flexibility. I would love to be one of those organized people who has their day broken up so that it's more efficient, one of those people has a weekly cleaning schedule (i.e. bathrooms on Monday, kitchens on Tuesday, etc.). I read an article about this on Simple Mom and it really inspired me to try. My home, not only our surroundings but our days here, need to be more organized and efficient. Again, I welcome any suggestions of what you do at your house.

While I would like to have a daily/weekly routine, I also need to work on being more spontaneous. For as long as I can remember, I've lived my life a certain way to feel a certain sense of control. I always thought specific actions = specific results. Like life was a formula. 2009 taught me that life isn't like that. You can do all the right things and sometimes things still don't work out. Last year was a tough year for me for various reasons, but one of biggest was that I dealt with a lot of anxiety. Some days it would be almost paralyzing. More and more, though, I'm learning that the majority of my anxiety stems from trying to maintain control over everything in my life. It's impossible (I just read a great blog post about this very thing - I could relate to it in so many ways). So, in 2010, I'm going to relinquish my attempts to control the things I can't. Having less anxiety will do wonders for keeping my life balanced.

I'm going to learn to split my time better between myself, my husband (and our time as a couple), and my son. If I neglect one, I neglect them all. If I give myself the shaft, it affects my relationship with my husband and son. The same goes for if I put all my attention toward one. Did I mention that suggestions how to do this are welcome?

Last year was tough. I learned a lot, but I'm glad it's over.

Welcome, 2010. I'm finally ready for you.

"I love to laugh..."

2010-01-08T16:43:00.021-07:00

One day, not too long ago, my husband gave me one of the best compliments. He told me, "One of the things I love about you is that you'll laugh at something out loud even when no one else is around." What can I say? I've always done that. I'm glad he thinks it's endearing.

Like the other day, I was driving to the post office and I saw this snowman in someone's driveway. The fact that it is in the driveway is funny enough, but for some reason, I thought it was hilarious that the snowman was made of two snowballs instead of three and was seated in an old office/computer chair. Not only did that tickle my funny bone just right, but the way the snowman only had one arm sticking up, as he waved from his chair, just got me going. I was still giggling by the time I was at the post office. It's really dumb, but it still makes me smile when I think about it. Like Uncle Albert in my favorite movie said, "When things strike me as funny, I can't hide it inside..."

So, I thought I would share the things that really get me going, that crack me up. I want you to realize that I'm putting myself out on the line here. Any reputation I had for being smart or cultured could be smashed to pieces. Oh well. Don't judge.

Awkward Family Photos.com
Honestly, I'm partially doing this post just so I can tell you about this site. I just found it a few weeks ago and I LOVE IT. When I first discovered it, Kevin was in Max's room, helping the little guy fall asleep, and he could hear me giggling in the office. And I couldn't stop. Once Max was asleep, he came in, dying to know what was so hilarious. Before long, he was giggling like a little girl. Here's the best part: I actually have a picture I think I'm going to submit. It's me with my crazy great-uncle (I won't go into the details of my relative's shady past. Let's just put it this way: when one of my brothers first smelled an alcoholic drink, his first thought was that it smelled like our great-uncle). The picture features me pointing out how I'd lost my two front teeth; he just so happened to be missing the same ones. Ahhhhh, family....

Cake Wrecks
How could I not mention one of the funniest sites on the Internet? I love Cake Wrecks. Pure genius. That site is so awesome. The best part is that as funny as the cakes are, the site wouldn't be what it is without the hilarious commentary. If I'm ever feeling depressed, I go to Cake Wrecks and I feel better instantly.

The Onion
The Onion is basically, as Wikipedia puts it (I couldn't figure out a way to describe it concisely), "an American news satire organization." I realize that makes it sound kind of boring. But being the huge politics/history geek I am, The Onion just gets me sometimes. When I was dating Kevin, he and his roommate, Nathan, introduced it to me through a book of favorite articles, called The Onion's Finest News Reporting (sidenote: from what Kev tells me, I was the only girl they'd met that found it as funny as they did. For them, it was a sort of humor litmus test). The three of us sat in their apartment living room, laughing to the point of tears over headlines like "Mr. T to Pity Fool" or "Clinton Deploys Very Special Forces to Iraq". There's also the website that I check occasionally - sometimes their "news" videos are also funny. One of my favorites is "Should the Government Stop Dumping Money Into a Giant Hole?" One warning: the books, site, and videos sometimes have a little profanity. Like I said, don't judge.

BustedTees.com
This site is just a t-shirt shop, but I think the shirt designs are hilarious. I love the random pop-culture and retro (by that, I mean 80s stuff from my childhood) things they come up with. One of my favorites: the Oregon Trail game t-shirt. And then there's the "Ask me about dinosaurs" one I wanted to get for my son when he was obsessed with dinosaurs a year ago - I thought it would have been awesome to see it on a 2 1/2 year old. Or the one below that Kevin and I had a really good laugh over - I could barely describe it to him I was laughing so hard.

But, before you check it out, I have to say the same thing I did for The Onion: there's some crude designs, with either sex references (though I think the "Sex: do it for the kids" one is kinda funny) or profanity. The majority are fine. I swear, not all the things I find funny are offensive.

YouTube
There are so many stupid videos that I love. Afro Ninja. Dramatic Gopher. Colin's Bear Animation. Cat Chasing Bear (and More). Paper Towels. Man Biting Snake Skin. Gotta love YouTube.

My Two Funny Blogging Friends: Shane Lewis and Heather Dixon
I found out about them through my husband, through links on his blog. Not only are they crazy-talented artists, but they are also such great, funny writers! I wish I were as creative as they are. I'm glad I've finally met them both.

Ninjerktsu
There's not much to say: the blog features comics about a ninja that's a jerk. What's not to love?

And then there are my favorite TV shows - most of which aren't even on the air anymore. All time favorite is The Simpsons, but only episodes from the 90s. I consider The Simpsons I love to not be on the air anymore - the show now doesn't even resemble the comedic gold it once was. (Our friends, Miche and Abbey, just gave us the Simpsons Scene It for Christmas and we've been loving it!) Other favorites: Arrested Development (why did we only get three seasons. Why? WHYYYYYY??!?!?!), Seinfeld (Classic.), Futurama, and Flight of the Conchords (soon to be cancelled, from what I heard. *Sigh* I love Bret and Jemaine.).

So many things I haven't included. Shopping carts moving by themselves (I started laughing just typing that). Spelling errors on billboards and marquees. Conan O'Brien's 'Celebrity Survey' (though I thought his show was funnier when it was Late Night. Just sayin'.). Waiting for Guffman. College newscasts (you know, when the college does their own news broadcasts on the local public station. So wonderfully awkward.). The pictures Kevin draws during church of my various white trash admirers (I may have to scan one of those in and post it...). Mark Steyn. My brother Matt's stories about the rednecks at our high school (I went to the same school, but I don't remember it being nearly as funny as it was for him).

I'm going to make sure I laugh even more during 2010 than I did in 2009. Now that's a resolution I can keep.

Flashback Thursday

2009-12-31T00:00:00.000-07:00

I know, I've just committed a alliterative sin. Flashback Thursday? Hmmmmm....maybe I should have called it Throwback Thursday. Oh well. I had to do it today because it is the last day of 2009 and the last day of the decade.

I'm freaking out. Why do the last ten years feel like they flew by? A TON of things happened, but it still feels like it went so quickly. Anyway, I decided that I would do the mother of all flashback posts and remember each year and what happened in this formative decade of my life.

2000

I can totally remember where I was on December 31, 1999. I was at a stake dance in my hometown. Right before it hit midnight, the DJ played "It's the End of the World as We Know It" by R.E.M. and we were all kind of wondering if it was, what with the dreaded Y2K looming. Anyway, 2000 was the year I graduated from good ol' Wasatch High, from the biggest senior class the school had ever had (I believe it was around a whopping 260 seniors). That was a big year - graduated from high school, moved out of the house, and started college.

2001

College was so much fun - mostly. There was the drama, the school stress, and the poverty, but mostly it was great. My sophomore and junior years were so much fun, especially with my two crazy roommates, Alison and Schuyler. 2001 was the year where I finally felt good about just being myself and stopped caring what people thought. I learned a lot about myself that year and I look back at my college years with many more fond memories and good feelings than I do about high school. And it goes without saying, 2001 was a life-changing year for just about every American. I'll never forget what 9/11 felt like for me.

2002

One of the coolest experiences of my entire life happened at the beginning of 2002 when I was a press volunteer at Deer Valley during the Winter Olympics (that's me with my "Italian Stallion" - he was a freestyle skier from Italy who didn't do very well at all.). I had the highest security clearance a volunteer could have, so I got to go everywhere on the venue. Most of the time I was at the finish line, standing right by the medalists as the press interviewed them and took their pictures. One athlete even let me hold his gold medal the day after he won it. It was absolutely incredible. Every time the Olympics roll around (summer or winter), I always remember what it was like to be behind the scenes.

2003

I married Kevin. Best decision I ever made.

2004

I finally graduated from college (don't be fooled by the date on the picture - my mom's camera had the date all wacky)! After reading novel after novel, writing hundreds pages of papers, enduring advanced grammar classes, and barely making it through college algebra (seriously, I only think I passed because I paid my tithing), I got my Bachelor of Arts in English (and, just to toot my own horn, actually graduated cum laude). A proud moment for me and my family, for sure! Other than that big event, Kevin and I just enjoyed still acting like a couple crazy-in-love newlyweds.

2005

What a year that was! Spent my birthday at Disneyland. Kevin got hired at Avalanche, which was eventually bought by Disney Interactive Studios. Moved into our first home (see me in the far right of the picture, checking the place out. Our house looks so different now!). Got our crazy cat, Catmattix. I was in charge of planning and executing the enormous Harry Potter 6 release party at Barnes & Noble. It was an awesome year. Even though it ended on a down note when I miscarried in October, it was still a year of growth. Having that awful experience taught me so much about myself and I believe helped me become a better person. That year had its ups and downs - but mostly ups.

2006

On my golden birthday, when I turned 24 on the 24th, I found out I was pregnant. It was an uncomfortable year, particularly that summer, but my pregnancy went without a hitch. Our son, Max, was born on October 17th. Giving birth to that boy (sans drugs, I might add) was the greatest, most sacred thing I've ever experienced. How I love that little boy!

2007

Spent the year figuring out the whole motherhood thing. Sleepless nights. Nursing. Hundreds of diaper changes. Rolling over, scooting, crawling, walking. I constantly felt (and still do) like I was only improvising, wondering if I was doing anything right. I knew for sure, though, that being a mom was what I was meant to do. I absolutely love it.

2008

Awesome, awesome year. I finally went further east than Denver. Max flew on an airplane for the first time - flying with a toddler wasn't nearly the traumatizing nightmare I thought it would be. We went to North Carolina (where Kev served his mission), Virginia, and Washington D.C. (I've always been a big history geek and have always wanted to visit). Later that year, we went to California and spent a week at Disneyland. It was cool - we visited both coasts and got to play in the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. While all the traveling was a ton of fun, the best part of the year was watching Max get even better with age.

2009

This year has definitely been one of my least favorite. Lots of ups and downs from the get-go. But, really, I can't help but be grateful for the blessings I have. It's been a year of learning and faith. And it hasn't been all bad. We did have our spontaneous trip to Disneyland in August, which was a ton of fun. Plus, my little family is awesome. I love my husband more every day and my son continues to amaze me with all the things he says and does. Life, even when it's hard, is so, so good.

I can't wait to see what the next decade holds for us...

An Open Letter to My Blog

2009-12-26T21:41:00.006-07:00

Dear Butterfly Blog,

It's not you. It's me.

I've been so busy writing other things - I never intended to let you fall by the wayside. Really, I didn't. My other blogs have probably been making fun of you on the dashboard, reminding you how I write on them regularly. The frugal blog touts its information, giveaways, followers, and nifty ideas. The family blog flaunts the fact that it is my virtual scrapbook/photo album. I can see how it would get you down.

And then there's the first draft of my novel that I'm still working on. 225 pages and still plugging along. I hate to tell you this, but I think I'm only half-way through it. If it makes you feel any better, I think it's pretty awesome. It may actually get published someday. Seriously. Unfortunately for you, it occupies the majority of the writerly part of my brain. Sorry about that.

But don't worry - I've got things to write about still. I mean, the horrible health care bill just passed through the Senate. I will definitely rant about that. I just got the second volume of The Art of French Cooking for Christmas - that could be interesting; I'll need to post the results of my Julia Child endeavors somewhere. I'm going to try to learn to sew this year - that could yield some amusing insights. Besides, it's almost the new year and I've got those pesky resolutions to post (and the 2009 ones to report on). Then there's the fact that it's going to be 2010 in a week and I'm going to be feeling all sorts of angst, melodrama, and self-reflective ambivalence about the fact that I will be spending most of the coming decade in my thirties. That's a goldmine in itself. And, of course, there's always the gushing and glowy posts about how awesome my husband (who, I might add, painted a portrait of our son for one of my Christmas presents. *sigh*) and son are. See, you've still got a place in my brain and in the blogosphere.

Hang in there blog. I'm sure there are two or three people who still read you. I'm sure I've lost a few. It's my fault. Or Facebook's. Either way, I'll get them back. Maybe.

Yours truly,

Heather

When Joseph went to Bethlehem...

2009-12-13T16:09:00.005-07:00

I've already written about how much and why I love this painting, Behold the Lamb of God by Walter Rane. It's my favorite depiction of the Nativity. I have a print of it up in my living room (still need to get a frame for it...). One of the various reasons I love this painting is the way Rane captures Joseph as an active participant in the Christmas story. I think he doesn't get nearly the credit he deserves.

I would go into all my various reasons for thinking this about Joseph, but, instead, I'm going to refer you to an amazing article written by Elder Jeffrey R. Holland. It's called "Maybe Christmas Doesn't Come from a Store." I've read it at least three or four times in the last few days - it makes me cry every single time I read it. I just had to share it with you. There's just something about how Elder Holland can tell a story you've heard a thousand times and make it feel more powerful than ever (like with the talk he gave at general conference this past Easter). He does this with the Christmas story so beautifully, while also giving an important insight about Joseph's role - not only in the Nativity story, but in the life of Christ as a whole.

Christmas feels different to me this year. It's a good kind of different, though. How grateful I am for this season - and how much I have needed it!

Book Review: Hundred Dollar Holiday

2009-11-29T12:26:00.008-07:00

I just read an awesome book - Hundred Dollar Holiday by Bill McKibben. I first learned about it last year in an article in Wondertime (I miss that magazine...), wrote in my random notebook that I needed to read it, and then ordered it a few weeks ago. It's a really short book - only took an hour or so to read. But I loved it.

The book is about why the author and members of his church decided to do a 'hundred dollar holiday'. When I first got the book, I thought it would be full of ideas on handmade gifts. I also thought - and worried - that it would be a 100+ page lecture on how materialistic our society is. It was neither of these things, really. It goes much further than that - it's all about reconnecting with the true spirit of the season, about what it truly means to celebrate the birth of the Savior. It's about keeping the magic and wonder in Christmas and removing the stressful element.

I'm one of those stressed people when it comes to Christmas. Don't get me wrong - I absolutely love the season. The story and reminders of the Nativity, the music, the decorations, the symbolism, the food, everything. However, I often say that Halloween is my favorite holiday partly due to the fact that you get the fun of a holiday without the expense and stress. Almost like I gave up on Christmas, to an extent. What happened? When did the joy of the season turn to one of dread for me, of worrying about budgets instead of celebration? This book changed my attitude toward the season - I feel less obligation already and more excitement about the impending holiday season. One passage in the book that resonated with me was,

"If there's one way in which the world has changed more than any other since 1840, one thing that's truly different in our lives, it's that we've become such devout consumers...the greatest cost may be the way it's changed us, the way it has managed to confuse us about what we really want from this world. We weren't built just for this life we find ourselves leading - we were built for silence and solitude, built for connection with each other and the natural world, built for so much more than we now settle for. Christmas is the moment to sense that, the moment to reach for real joys."

The thing I appreciated about this book is that he doesn't give an exact formula to how you should celebrate your Christmas. You don't have to only spend $100 to get the rewards from this book. Even if it makes you reconsider and rethink your celebrations, I think the author would be satisfied. He mentions throughout the book that someone could make their holiday a $300 one and still get the benefit someone else might get from a $100 one. It's all about perspective. Like I said before, this book isn't a lecture. The author lays it all out (including the fascinating history of how the holiday has been celebrated in the centuries since the birth of Christ) and lets you decide what you want to do. Like the last paragraph of the book says, "The point is to emerge from Christmas relaxed, contented, happy to have kept this season. To emerge closer to your family than you were when the Advent began. To emerge with some real sense that Christ has come into your world."

The book is beautiful. I suggest it to everyone. Let the holiday season begin!

Note: I'm giving this book away on my frugal blog, The Parsimonious Princess. Check it out and enter!

Yet Another Appeal to the Blogosphere

2009-11-24T14:22:00.016-07:00

I'm 27. That's not old. But, I'm telling you - I feel out of it. I'm behind on what's cool and new. I blame it a little on motherhood (which has a way of changing one's focus), a bit more on talk radio (since I listen to this instead of music when the radio is on. I may be behind on pop culture, but seriously, ask me anything about politics and I'm there), and partially to the fact that I don't watch much TV.

To further show how behind I am with the times, I haven't sent a text message since 2002, when my then-boyfriend (now-husband) and I would text each other while I was in class at UVSC (yeah, UVSC. I'm old-school.). One time, I was checking out my brother-in-law's iTunes music library and I didn't know a ton of the bands. Anberlin? Jack's Mannequin? Liam and Me? Never heard of them. Back in my college days, I used to go to concerts, often braving the mosh pits so I move my way to the front of the general admission section. Those days are definitely past. And I'm not hip on what clothes are cool. The other day, I was at the store and I was like, "Plaid flannel shirts are back in style? Huh." Reminds me of that great quote from Grandpa Simpson: "I used to be with it, but then they changed what 'it' was. Now, what I'm with isn't it, and what's 'it' seems weird and scary..."

Now it's not like I live completely under a rock. I don't think I have bad taste in movies, music, clothes, books, etc. I dabble in pop culture now and then. Like on Saturday when I saw New Moon (much better than the awful first movie, by the way). I'm not adverse to discovering new things - I just don't seem to have the time anymore to keep up on what's new and cool. So, here's where my 'appeal to the blogosphere' comes in.

As many of you know, I'm busy writing a novel (yay!). It's been frustrating the last couple months because I've been stuck in this one part and kind of stumped on how to move forward, but I've crested that hill and am beginning to gain momentum in my story again. But here's the thing: I'm feeling pretty sick of my writing playlist on my iPod. This isn't good. I need to have great music on my writing playlist - it keeps me going, stirs up new ideas, and gets me in the certain mindsets. I can barely write without my iPod. I've been listening a lot to my favorite band, Muse (add Matt Bellamy to my list of brain crushes. I'm sure I've written about the people whose brains I love, haven't I? Maybe not.), and their new album, 'The Resistance'. Just that album alone has helped a ton with my story - it even made me rewrite almost a whole chapter because it inspired a whole new mood and feeling to what I had written. So, while I'm still loving all my Muse albums (among others - my writing playlist also includes musicians and groups like Iron & Wine, Priscilla Ahn, Katie Melua, Paramore, Keane, plus a bunch of movie soundtracks), I need something new - or at least, new to me.

What are you listening to right now? What music do you love? What's your favorite song? I need all types of songs: upbeat, slow, intense, sad, the whole lot. Like I said, it doesn't have to be new music, per se - just awesome music. And though I do have some music preferences and prejudicess, I will approach all suggestions with an open mind, so don't be shy. I can't wait to hear from you.

Random Sampler

2009-11-17T21:37:00.017-07:00

The various, unrelated things that have made me happy lately...

Gone with the Wind on blu-ray. *Insert giddy laugh* Just got it today and Kevin and I are going to go watch it once the boy falls asleep (Kevin's on bedtime duty tonight). It's completely restored in HD and is supposed to look A M A Z I N G. I'm like a teenager waiting for New Moon...

I'm no rabid Twilight fan by any stretch of the imagination. I don't think the books are that well written, I don't buy the whole Bella-Edward romance (I'm not trying to be a party pooper or anything, but if you think about it, what do they even like about each other? That he's hot and that she smells tasty?), and the first movie was pretty awful in some parts (I can't help but cringe at the tree climbing parts), but there's something so escapist about the whole Twilight phenomena. It's my one guilty pleasure. Kind of how the Transformers movies are for my husband - he knows they're silly, but he can't help but watch. (By the way, he did the awesome Bella and Edward caricatures above. If you're interested, his work's art blog's theme this week is all things Twilight. Really funny. My favorite is the baseball-playing Nosferatu)

I'm going with my mother-in-law and sisters-in-law to see New Moon this Saturday. And, as ashamed as I am to say, I'm pretty excited to go. Not Gone with the Wind excited, but excited nonetheless. (And, just for the record, I've always rooted for Jacob over Edward, even back when I read the books. Yes, I realize that if any of my college professors read this, they're going to hunt me down so they can rip up my English degree. Oh the shame...)

Let's see, what else...

This past Saturday I went with my friend, Jenn, to the Salt Lake Roasting Co. just to write. How awesome is that? She's participating in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) and as part of it, there was a write-in at this cool coffee shop. Even though I'm not writing a novel in a month like her (how do the nanowrimo people do it?), she invited me to tag along. It was cool. I felt so hip and writerly as I typed away on my laptop, sipping on steamed milk (mmmmm...steamers. I love them.). Plus, I think I began to beat through my current writer's block on this one section of my novel. It's coming along quite well (for a first draft, that is) and I'm having a lot of fun with it. I'm at about 55,000 words.

One of my graduated Webelos scouts brought us a plate of straight-from-the-oven cookies and this cute little note tonight. Landon was in our Webelos group when we first started in January. Before then, he hadn't really shown interest in Scouts at all, but for some reason, Webelos clicked with him. He worked really hard and we helped him get his Arrow of Light award. It may sound cheesy, but I was just so proud of him. I know I joked about being Cub Scout leaders back in January, but it's actually been a good experience for me and Kevin. The Scouting program is such a great organization for boys and I'm more than happy to support it. One other thing: I realize now that I never followed through on posting a picture of me in my Scout uniform shirt - and, just for the record, I still haven't bought the gaucho pants.

Finally, one other random reason for being happy lately was the sweet shout-out my husband gave me in his talk in Sacrament Meeting on Sunday (which talk, I might add, included references to two of my favorite movies: Mary Poppins and It's a Wonderful Life). What can I say? I'm blessed.

My Grand Experiment

2009-11-09T12:43:00.017-07:00

I've always been pretty good about how much time Max spends in front of the television. I usually let him have a two-hours per day maximum - this allows for an episode of Sesame Street and then one of his Thomas the Tank Engine DVDs (or whatever his current favorite movie is). But then Kevin got the H1N1 flu about three weeks ago and my TV guidelines went down the toilet.

We quarantined Kevin (I'm such a loving wife, leaving him in his time of need...) and went to my parents' house so we wouldn't catch it. As a result, Max got away with more time watching movies than usual. To top it off, it just so happened to be his birthday weekend when this all went down, so he had a bunch of new Thomas DVDs.

After a few days at my parents' house (and after getting a flu shot), we headed back home. A little less than a week later, Max caught something. It might have been the flu, but since he'd gotten the shot almost a week before, he got a very very mild case. But since he didn't want to do much of anything for a few days, he, again, spent more time in front of the television. By the time he was on the mend, I'd gotten used to having the TV as my babysitter. I spent more time on my novel (which, for anyone interested, I'm almost to 200 pages!) and on the Internet, blogging and stuff. I didn't totally neglect him, but I definitely wasn't having the one-on-one time with him. Our playing/eating/cleaning routines were totally off.

Around Halloween, Max was throwing more tantrums again. He'd been doing so well, but they'd started creeping back. Then on Halloween night, he threw a host of fits on various neighbors' doorsteps (he was so confused to why no one would let him in their houses to play). The next day, when I went to pick him up from Nursery, he threw another tantrum because he didn't want to leave. Not only was it embarrassing, but it was just so frustrating. I was at my wits' end! I began to question my mothering skills yet again.

And then, in a moment of inspiration (and I mean that - it was one of those moments of spiritual insight), a thought suddenly came to me: less television. The boy needed a break from the tube. I decided then and there that we weren't going to have the TV on at all during the day for an entire week. My feelings were affirmed by the book, It's a Boy! by Michael Thompson. It's an awesome book about the development of boys - I highly suggest it to anyone involved with raising boys. Anyway, I read in the section about 3 & 4-year-olds that lots of boys throw furious tantrums at this age (phew!) and he also mentioned that TV time can be a problem since it's such a passive activity.

Convinced that going TV-free was at least worth a try, I told Kevin about my idea and he was fully supportive. So, I packed the Thomas DVDs out of sight and braced myself for the chaos and Cat 5 tantrums headed my way. I was also worried how I would get anything done without even my usual two hours of TV babysitting. It was my grand TV-free experiment.

We started on Sunday, November 1. When we got home from church, he asked to watch Hero of the Rails. We told him no and, instead, spent the time reading book after book. We took a family nap. We played with his trains (and he played by himself). We headed to my parents' house for dinner and had a nice time there. There was no mention of movies or TV. The next day went the same way except that he didn't even ask to watch anything. Day 3 was the same, and so on. Here are some of the highlights of my experiment...

The weather was gorgeous last week - highs in the mid to upper sixties. And the leaves are starting to fall in our yard. He loved burying himself in the leaves.

Max rediscovered his tricycle and we did a few trips around our cul-de-sac.

I definitely fell behind on the housework. I'm trying to catch up today. By the way, aren't I brave to post a picture? Thank you, thank you...

We spent a lot of time in a "tent". I know the pictures are blurry, but I'd challenge you to get a clear picture with a blanket over your head while also using your leg as a tent pole (see far right of picture). This was one of my favorite parts of TV-free week. He'd just come up to me and say, "Mommy, come snuggle in a tent." Love it.

There was more baking without the television. Baking is one of our favorite things to do together. Here, we made banana bread bites (check out my frugal blog for the details and recipe). Max especially enjoyed coating everything (including himself) with powdered sugar.

Without the television, we spent more time being artsy. First with the sidwalk chalk (he had me draw and label all the Thomas & Friends trains - I purposefully left out my horrible drawings)...

..and then to the watercolors.

Of course, we spent a good majority of our time reading books. He particularly loved If You Give a Mouse a Cookie and No David!. We even rediscovered a book I'd bought at a yard sale a couple years ago, Richard Scarry's Best Storybook Ever.

He immediately found the pages about trains in it.

Which leads to the many, many hours of train time we spent together.

The results of my experiment: no tantrums, no time-outs, and a much happier boy. He didn't even seem to miss his DVDs or episodes of Sesame Street and Dinosaur Train. That doesn't mean I'm going to eliminate television completely from our routine. Everything in moderation. Yesterday, we decided to let him watch one of his Thomas DVDs after church. He loved it and when it was over, he ejected it from the PlayStation 3, put it back in its case, turned off the PS3 and TV, and headed upstairs to play with his trains, building the tracks and narrating his little trains' adventures.

The best result of my experiment? I reconnected with my little boy. He's growing so fast and I know that I only have a few more years to have him home all the time, completely to myself. What a waste it would be to spend too much of that short time sitting in front of the television. How much I would miss! And that was the biggest surprise of the experiment: I needed TV-free week as much as he did.