Wit on Demand . . . or something like that

Ingenuity

2011-10-08T22:13:00.000-07:00

One of the things I love about having a toddler is seeing his imagination blossom. It's like I get to watch his world unfold as he makes new connections and tries new things. It's simply amazing to be a part of the process. The other day, after work, I realized that it had been quiet for a little too long, if you know what I mean. Immediately, I sought out the little mischief.

This is what I found:

Makes my day!

Quote Wall #1

2011-09-30T10:41:00.000-07:00

Love this quote this week.

If you want to build a ship,

don't drum up the people to gather wood,

divide the work, and give orders.

Instead, teach them to yearn

for the vast and endless sea.

-Antoine De Saint-Exupury, author of Le Petit Prince

Overheard in the Speech Room, Take 2

2011-09-14T10:10:00.000-07:00

Another gem for the day: Working with a couple of six-year-olds on basic "wh" questions (who and what)

Me: "Who flies an airplane?"
K: (in all earnestness) "A duck!"

I guess we have some more work to do!

Overheard in the Speech Room

2011-09-12T15:01:00.000-07:00

Working with children of all ages leads to some pretty interesting conversations. Today, while working with one of our kindergarten students, my fellow speech pathologist noted that he was missing a significant number of teeth - more than most kindergarten students, and the remaining chompers were cavity-ridden.

Concerned, she asked him, "Buddy, what happened to your teeth? Did they fall out or did someone pull them out?"

With the perfect innocence of a kindergartner, he said, that he wasn't sure. He was opening a jar of jelly and a tooth just fell out of his mouth (as if the act of opening a jar could cause a tooth to just fall out). My colleague said, "I'm just a little worried about what happened to all your teeth."

And then he said, with worry on his face, "I just don't know how many I have left!"

We've been laughing about that all afternoon. "I just don't know how many I have left!" This is just another reason I love my job!

Needs

2011-09-08T15:44:00.000-07:00

So, it's been a while. Sorry to all 3 of my readers who have been waiting expectantly. Let's just say that I lacked the mental and emotional fortitude to even think some days. Much better now. I seem to have found my gumption in one of those boxes that I'm still trying to unpack.

I've decided today that I only have one real need this school year. I have a full time CFY, so I'm good in the help department. I have an office that has a few more supplies and is slightly more organized than last year. All I need now is a good pair of extendable ears.

I know they look a bit disgusting, but they would be the perfect addition to a speech pathologist's bag of tricks!

I have so listen to and observe so many children, and they always know when I'm there to see them. And that makes them nervous (because, let's face it, knowing that you're being watched makes anyone nervous!). And then I'm not really observing a naturalistic context.

Brent, if you're listening, I want a set for Christmas. Thanks!

Some Thoughts

2011-06-25T22:15:00.000-07:00

1. If nothing else, having some time to just be 'mom' this summer, has made me realize how precious this time is. I love getting to see the ins and outs of my darling boy's day. I love the way he loves to read, to sing (complete with . . . piano . . . accompaniment?) - the way he's learning a new word daily (usually 3-4), the way he giggles, the way he knows who his favorite people are, the way he dances, the way he jumps, the way he has moments of pure sweetness.

Just today, I was sitting on the couch after working at the hospital. He climbed up, and say "ees" which translates to "squeeze" and proceeded to give me a big hug. Then he snuggled his way down between me and the couch and just laid with his head on my arm, like we were the best of pals.

Tonight, as we were driving home from Brent's mom's house, Bruce was babbling in the back. All of a sudden I heard him say, "Happy, blsi bla sgli, meow meow, li bifel pomef, 'du' (meaning 'juice') sdljlj weml 'Ene' (meaning Jene)." A loose transcription - forgive the gibberish in between. I marveled at the way he was trying to tell me that he was happy, and then proceeded to tell me why he was happy. (Jene is Brent's mom's husband, and he's one of Bruce's absolute most favorite people on the earth). It was a moment of connection for me and my boy. He has such a sweet, happy personality.

2. Jene has graciously been helping us with our challenges of late. Basically, we're having car trouble. Not major, but enough that we probably shouldn't drive the thing until it's fixed. It's due for a tune-up anyway (much to my husband's denial). For the past few days, I've been pondering the wisdom of Jene. He said, off-handedly, that when you're facing a problem with the car, it's always smart to pursue the easiest solution first.

I think this little gem is a life lesson that I need to ponder more deeply. I think, far too often, when faced with a problem, I look at every possible solution, and I'm usually guilty of trying the difficult ones first. What a waste of energy! This is definitely something I'm going to have to work on.

3. Speaking of pondering, I've had several interesting experiences lately to remind me of the value of taking time to be still. Brent graduated a couple of weeks ago (Huzzah! [pictures to come as soon as I find that camera charger . . . ]), and the commencement speaker mentioned specifically the importance of taking time to be quiet. To be free of distraction. I know that, for myself, when I spend even ten minutes quietly contemplating, I always feel more centered and focused. Ten minutes. I do even better with longer. That's one reason I love to journal. It's a time for me to stop, and ponder, and feel, and breathe.

I'm concerned that it is becoming increasingly more difficult to make the time and mental space to do this. There are plenty of things to distract us. Both external and internal. I've been interested to see self-help books all over about being 'mindful' or 'fully present.' The biggest way for me to do this is to un-plug. To turn off the television, to close my laptop, to put my phone on silent and just focus on what is right in front of me - be that my garden, my projects, my son, my patients/students, my husband, my friend, my sister, my mother, my father, my brother, my neighbor, or even myself. Technology is amazing! There is so much we are enabled to do because of what we have at our fingertips. But if we can't be away from it for more than an hour, then it's an addiction. And addictions limit our capacity. Addictions bind us in chains that grow thicker the more we feed them. (Audrey II, anyone?)

All I know is, if we don't engage with our lives, we miss out - on the chance to learn, to form friendships and bonds that last longer than the time you spend perusing Facebook. I see it all the time in my line of work. As a Speech Pathologist, especially one who works with children with autism, I constantly aim to connect with my students. To teach them how to connect with another human being. Some people have to work so hard to gain a basic skill that is intrinsic in others. Others who too often let that skill lie dormant, unused, under-developed.

But engagement benefits all of my students, not just those with autism. If a student becomes an active participant in their treatment, they improve faster. When we become active participants in our lives, we are able to grow and become more than we ever could passively sitting on the sidelines. "Your life is an occasion: Rise to it!"

I suppose the simplest solution is to consciously make time every day to be still. To ponder. To commune. To connect to another human being - spirit to spirit, not across wires. Make time to rise to the occasion that is your life. I know, for me, the more I consciously make time to be still, the easier it becomes. Like all things, I have to plan for it, or it is far less likely to happen. I'm sure there will be more to come on this topic as I study it out, but in the meantime, thank you for being patient with my ramblings.

The Infinite Power of Hope

2011-06-15T20:47:00.000-07:00

Should Disappointment, parent of Despair,

Strive for her son to seize my careless heart;
When, like a cloud, he sits upon the air,
Preparing on his spell-bound prey to dart:
Chase him away, sweet Hope, with visage bright,
And fright him as the morning frightens night!

-"To Hope" by John Keats

I had a wonderful conversation with a dear friend this weekend, a friend who is currently struggling with infertility. This wonderful woman is someone exemplifies what it is to have a 'mother heart.' Sadly, someone who is so qualified for the job, must wait.

As we spoke, she talked of dealing with the Disappointment that can lead to Despair. They were at a great place in their marriage, they had a new house that was bereft of the little feet for which it was bought. She had prepared. The time was right. And yet it wasn't. That was a bitter time for her. I could feel the ache in her words. And my heart pondered that bleak plain. I know that I cannot adequately understand her pain - we have been blessed with such a happy little boy without the trial of waiting that many couples face.

She told me that she knows that she and her husband will have the opportunity to be parents. She even said that she knows that she will have the opportunity to be pregnant. She has faith that these blessings will happen for her and her husband. But, I was struck once again how we may have knowledge of certain things, or have faith that all will work out, but we still must bear the trial. Some call it "enduring to the end" - a nice phrase until you're in the middle of an unbearable trial. Even with faith, we can find ourselves giving in to despair (the parent of disappointment) if we do not hope.

Hope has the power to fill our lives with happiness.Its absence—when this desire of our heart is delayed—can make “the heart sick.”

I may not understand her trial exactly, but I understand what it is to feel heartsick. I understand the bleakness that is despair. In listening to her, and supporting her, sister to sister, I could feel hope swelling in me, as I hope it did in her. When hope does take root, the weight of despair is lessened. I think "hope is sure, unwavering, and active." We spoke of her plans, her action, to combat and cope with her disappointment and sorrow, many of which involved serving those within her sphere of influence.

Once again, I was reminded that hope is what carries us through. Hope is the bulwark that protects our spirits from sorrow and despair. Hope helps us keep proper perspective. And, I also learned again that we need each other in order to fully hope. We need to be able to share what we know, to express what we hope for, and to express wherein we place our hope. And sometimes we need to rely on the strength of others to help us through those bleak experiences (easy to say when you're not in the middle of it, I know, but if I say it aloud, maybe I'll remember it when it's my turn to need strengthening).

Quotes from here

Boys Will Be Boys

2011-06-08T15:35:00.000-07:00

In all the craziness of the last several months, I have neglected the blog. I'm looking forward to catching up in the next couple of months. One major event that I omitted was Bruce's first Father & Sons outing (also known as 'Mama's first night away from her munchkin').

The boys went out to Hart's Flat for some manly bonding. The highlights included s'mores, horseshoes, barbecuing, sleeping in tents, campfires, and lots of friends. And dirty socks. The boys had a great time. Brent even took another neighbor's son with him because the neighbor was out of town. They are now buddies for life.

I didn't sleep at all. There's a difference between quiet house and empty house. I don't like the feeling of empty house. But they had a great time. Camping is definitely in the plans for this summer!

Quiet Morning

2011-06-05T08:20:00.000-07:00

With the end of the school year, Brent promised me that I could sleep in yesterday. That's right, I got to sleep in. All the way to 8:00. Which is amazing, considering that I haven't gotten up later than 6am since who knows when.

So, today, when I woke up at 7:40 (which still feels like sleeping in), I was amazed that my house is still silent with slumbering boys. Bruce never sleeps past 7, so I was sure he'd be awake at any moment. Not so, it's just me and the happily singing house finches outside me window.

I appreciate the quiet. The time to study and ponder without any darling little distractions. Or just as darling big ones. I am amazed at how much lighter I feel without all of my looming end-of-the-year deadlines. The only deadlines I really have for the next couple of months are self-imposed ones.

Books to read, projects to finish, letters to write, days to swim, walks to take, piano pieces to learn, a cello to practice, research projects to start, food to make, family vacations to take, memories to make.

Mostly, I'm excited about having some time to devote to becoming a happier, healthier me. Call it mid-year's resolutions. I'm very excited to see what this summer holds.

Spiritual enlightenment here

They're Going To Think We're Crazy

2011-06-04T21:30:00.000-07:00

Well, we're all moved in, and currently our home is "decorated in the style of 'Early American Cardboard,' but now that school is out for the summer, I'll have some real time to work on opening everything. The kitchen, bathroom, and washing machine are functional, so we can go on living here happily for quite some time.

The front of the house was a mess, which is to be expected when the house has been vacant for over a year. Hooray for foreclosures! The previous owner (there's a story about her for later, remind me) moved into a house across the street and a few houses down. Apparently, when she walked away from this house she took all the landscaping with her. She told us it was just going to die anyway, so she might as well take it. Funny thing is that there were several plants left that are still doing quite well. Tell me how that works.

Anyway, since she took everything and left the weeds to take over what was left of the flower beds, we spent the first Saturday in the house cleaning out all the dead plants and the weeds. Then, later this week we went to Lowe's just to get some color for the front yard. And some trees. And a lawnmower.

Anyway, we went after I got home from work late. By the time we got home, we had to feed the baby and get him in the tub. Basically, by the time his nighttime routine was complete, it was dark. We decided to plant anyway.

In the dark.

I just kept thinking about Willy Loman, out planting his garden in the middle of the night. And I thought about how our neighbors must think we're crazy. We planted with a frenzy of flung dirt and mulch. And we talked. That's probably my favorite part, the spending time with our fingers in the dirt, deep in conversation about anything. We laughed and contemplated and reminisced and planned, and all the while we created something beautiful together (not that we could see it until the next morning).

I'm sure there are some deep spiritual implications for this. I'm still pondering. In the meantime, I'm enjoying spending the time together to make our house our home. Pictures to come, eventually, . . . whenever we find our camera charger . . .

We've Created A Monster

2011-05-11T20:36:00.000-07:00

The picture is old, but it exemplifies his, ahem, distaste so well.

So, Bruce has never liked to sit still to have his nails cut. About 6 months ago, I discovered that if I used YouTube as a distractor, Bruce didn't even seem to notice that I was cutting his nails. Score one for Mom!

The video that works the best is, surprisingly, a cat video. See, Bruce had a really great first experience with cats. At Christmas, we were visiting my parents. Their neighbor across the street has this uncharacteristically cuddly cat. When we were playing in the front yard, the cat came right up to Bruce and sat on his lap, purring like a jackhammer. Bruce was in love. Little did I know the deep-rooted seeds of terror that would be planted that day.

At first, the cat videos were harmless. I could use them as my crutch and leave happily once the shearing ceased. Alas, we have walked into a living nightmare.

If the computer is anywhere that Bruce can see it, he immediately stretches forth his hand, and loudly proclaims, "Meow!" If his cries are ignored, or denied, they exponentially increase in volume and intensity. So much so, that at least temporary hearing thresholds shift if his cries go unheeded. "MEOW! MEOW! MEOW!," he plaintively wails, accompanied by frantic bursts of fury.

The unfortunate thing is that most videos use absolutely ridiculous and un-felinelike music. I mean, do cats really evoke the need for Smashmouth? We hear it so much, that Brent has taken to chanting in his sleep: "What a concept! I could use a little fuel myself . . ."

So, gentle reader, please notice this for the cry for help that it is. Where can we turn for deliverance?

Hanging In There

2011-04-13T20:37:00.000-07:00

It's been a crazy week. I was sick last week, and couldn't afford it, but had to take 3 days off of work (not that I was terribly productive the other 2 days). I hate playing catch up. I hate feeling behind, especially when I see no way out.

I am so looking forward to Spring Break next week. It cannot come soon enough. I just hope I can get enough done to enjoy it. Looking forward to spending time with these boys.

Disgusted

2011-04-07T19:43:00.001-07:00

Brent and I snuck away for a bite to eat today ("eat to bite" . . .) because, for one, I actually felt like eating (I've been sick all week - today was actually my first day off the couch!). And for two, Bruce was still at the sitter's after Brent's class, so we got a mini date in. Wahoo!

Anyway, we went to this little deli around the corner from where we live, and they have a little magazine stand in the corner. As we sat and enjoyed our sandwiches, one magazine cover glared at me. Did I just read that right? "Teen Moms: Addicted to Surgery (Implants, Lipo, & Nose Jobs!)" It made my stomach turn.

Seriously? There are three things about that cover that disturbed me. Still disturb me, actually. Hence the posting.

First: "teen moms." Yet another instance of the media supporting, no, promulgating the idea that teenage girls can and should be mothers. Glorify those choices. Celebrate that they can handle being mothers when there's no talk about family responsibility. It's glamorous to have a baby. It boosts your image - and apparently your ratings.

Second: "addicted to surgery." I guess this just stems off the first. No responsibility. You can look exactly how you want to look without the work. All you need is some cool, hard cash and you, too, can have a cool, hard body. I think it's interesting that bodies are increasingly treated as those watches that we used to wear in the 80's - you know the ones where you could change out the strap to match your outfit - instead of an incredible gift from a loving Heavenly Father to be treated with dignity and respect. Also, this supports society's mindset, or rather obsession with body image. We have to look perfect. No matter the cost.

Third, and maybe the most subtle: "Moms addicted to surgery" Maybe this is just an extension off the other two, but it struck me the hardest today. It seems to me that this statement is in direct contrast to what a mother should be. A mother is someone who learns to put the needs and desires of others before herself. These girls are portraying just the opposite mindset: " I can have what I want, when I want it. There are no consequences. " Mothers teach and shape their children. The lesson portrayed by these girls is that we live in an age when we can have our desires instantly gratified. We don't have to be grateful for what we have because if we don't like it, we can just trade it in. Upgrade. What a spoiled generation!

We live in an age when you don't have to be who you are. People who live like this are fake. Plastic. The thing is, yes, with money, a person can change the way he or she looks. But, in the long run, that doesn't change the way you feel about yourself. Six to eight months later, they're going to find something else they don't like about themselves, and then it's back to the chopping block. It becomes an addiction. You're always going to find something you don't like about yourself.

I find it interesting that I'm learning, as I posted earlier, that the real way to have self-confidence is to have self-discipline. I have a wonderful mother who helped to teach me this. I'm grateful for her example. I'm grateful that, to her, I wasn't just a status symbol but an eternal inheritance. She understands and teaches her children that we can do hard things. That some of the best things in the world take honest, hard, sweat-producing work. And oftentimes, sweat-producing prayer as well. I'm grateful to have a mother that knows her role, and who lives up to that role. I pray that I can live up to her example.

2011-04-06T14:53:00.000-07:00

It's spring, and all I can think about is how much I wish I had a garden. Oh, the woes of apartment living. We don't get enough sun to really have pots, but we're trying. Last year, we had them all over the ledges, even out on the ledge over the stairs, but they threatened to evict us if we didn't remove them. As we're in the process of buying a house, I don't really care this year. It's not like they can kick us out. We're moving anyway (hopefully!)

Anyway, if I did have the space and the means, this is what would be in my garden this year.

Gardenia

picture from here

Camellia

picture from here

Lilies

pictures from here, here, and here

Lilac

picture from here

Nasturtium

picture from here

Jasmine

picture from here

Fuchsia

pictures from here, or here

Fresia

picture from here

Sweet Pea

pictures from here, or here

Roses

picture from here

Petunia

I took this one!

Violets

picture from here

I just wish I knew what this one was. I'm guessing some kind of lily, but I can't find it anywhere. We saw it up at the sequoias last year.

April Fool's!

2011-04-01T13:28:00.001-07:00

I love Google's April Fool's Day gags. Very clever. I loved the year when they said they had a new feature that would allow you to send emails that were time-stamped to be backdated. So if you forgot to send that birthday card, or get that assignment in, you could send it and have it not appear late. Fabulous! This year's is just as good! Check it out! http://www.google.com/mail/help/motion.html#utm_source=en-et-na-us&utm_medium=new-features-link&utm_campaign=en I think I'll have to pin their common phrases up so I don't lose them. Awesome!

Self discipline = self-confidence

2011-03-27T15:49:00.000-07:00

First Confession: I've been working on this post for the past couple of months, but I've found it extremely difficult to divulge.

Second Confession: I have never thought of myself as a fit person. This discouraging thought has plagued me the past several months. I think it stems from my ill-conceived notion that "fit" meant "skinny" and I most certainly never was that, at least, not in the modern-day sense of the word. Also, I believed that "fit" meant "athletic." Sure, I played tennis and basketball in high school (read: freshman year), but being the perfectionist that I am, average just wasn't good enough to make the grade. I suppose that I did have times when I was fit. I had a wonderful aerobics/strength training class in high school that I loved. In college, I always liked to take dance classes, and usually a volleyball class or something on the side. There was a time when I played sand volleyball and tennis weekly, at least. But, I couldn't go run every day like almost every other person in Provo. And stepping on a scale made me cringe.

Sadly, moving away from college meant leaving some of those active habits in Provo. I never fully could get back in the saddle. Leading me to be the least fit I've ever been in my "unfit" life. Now I truly fit the "unfit" description (pun intended).

So, I decided in January that I was sick of the person who was living in my body. I know she had some semblance of me, but the real me was a bit, um, buried. I had tried running, but I knew that that was not going to be a viable option for me. For one thing, I don't really like to run. For another thing, there was nothing to hold me to it. I think I managed a total of three or four 2-mile runs, and then I just fizzled. Having a husband in night school and a baby at home meant that I couldn't go use the exercise facilities in our apartment complex. (Little fingers just get into to many dangerous places). I knew that I needed to just buckle down and get a gym membership.

Here's the other thing about me. I can do anything for two weeks. It's the third week that really tests my mettle. So, I signed my husband and I both up for a gym membership. For two weeks, I went nightly after the baby had gone to bed. Then I got sick and couldn't breathe - not such a good idea to go exert myself and starve my body of oxygen for an hour. And then there was another 2 week drought. And then I remembered all the things that I needed to do in the evening but couldn't because I was trying to be at the gym. And then there was the sleep deprivation that came with working out in the evening because it would take me forever to relax after a workout, and I would stay up way later than was prudent. And then, there was the vertigo that accompanied sleep deprivation. I know my body. That's never a good mix.

I began to feel discouraged. Like I was fighting a losing battle, so I might as well quit while I was ahead.

But, I'm too competitive for that. I felt that if I could get up early and go before work, then I would be able to use my time more effectively and actually accomplish more in my day. Sounds good, right? Well, for the timing to work out, that means that I have to get up by 4:15 in order to still be ready for work on time.

I prayed earnestly for strength and support that first week. I set my clothes out every night so all I would have to do would be to slip into them and out the door. And miracle of miracles, I was awake before my alarm clock went off every time. I worked really hard to get to bed on time (this is what really takes discipline), and I was out the door by 4:30 every day that week.

Last week (week three) was the hurdle. I only made it 3 days that week. But, I still got in my minimum, and now we're past that.

I've learned a valuable lesson in that time. My clothes don't fit any differently. I have no idea if I've lost any weight. But, I feel better. I feel better about myself. I feel stronger. I feel like I have more control over myself, like I can accomplish what I set out to do. And, while the endorphins may have something to do with it, I have a feeling that mostly it's that I'm learning how to "conquer the flesh," as they say. I'm learning that it's not outside the scope of reality that I can, and will, be a fit person. And I have a new definition of fit now. It's not about being skinny. I want to be strong - strong enough to be able to take care of my family's needs. I want to have endurance - to be able to play a game of basketball with my kids and keep up with them the whole time. I want to be flexible - to really feel like I have pushed my body to it's limits and made the most of the precious gift of having one.

I still have a long way to go, but getting started is the hardest part. One of my favorite quotes growing up says "The chief cause of failure and unhappiness in life is trading what you want most for what you want at the moment." I'm trying to better live by that.

Casualties and Happy Happenstance

2011-03-17T19:34:00.000-07:00

Our spontaneous drive to the beach last weekend was not without consequence. We loved spending time at the ocean. Truth be told, I could have stayed there all day. There's something so mesmerizing about the gentle undulations of the water that laps against the sand, and the heedless sun, and the feeling of timelessness. It's no wonder to me that so many poets and scribes have written about the ocean, the inexplicable draw.

Unfortunately, our camera felt that same draw. Straight into the salty foam it dove. Frankly, I'm lucky to have pulled the pictures off of it before it died completely. I guess maybe I get to convince Brent that we need a good camera now. We'll see.

The other casualty of the night was my purse. Bruce's juice cup was in my purse, and somehow the lid came loose. By the time we got home, the whole thing smelled of fermented, ocean-water infused apple juice. And the sticky! Ugh! I inherited from my mother a disliking of all things sticky - at least that's going to require extensive cleaning. Thankfully, my wallet and phone weren't affected, but everything else had to be tossed. It was time to clean out anyway, right?

The other unfortunate occurrence was that we didn't plan ahead, therefore, we didn't have dry clothes for after the beach. And it's still pretty chilly at night with the sea breeze in Santa Monica. So, we headed a block over to the 3rd Street Promenade - a fabulous outdoor mall, of sorts. There are shops lining both sides of the street, and there's only foot traffic the whole way down for several blocks.

The happy happenstance was that in our quest to find warm clothes, we happened upon some great music. It was like icing on the cake of an already great day. I love finding new music. I love the exposed, intimate setting of a street performance. There was just such a fun, happy vibe. Even Bruce danced with us. Since our camera had taken a header into the ocean, I've relied on youtube to bring you a taste of what we found.

Bruce, Meet The Beach

2011-03-13T20:57:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I was feeling cagey. Restless. Like I was starting to go crazy. It had been a busy week and then I'd had to work yesterday morning. I came home at noon and told my husband to pack the car. I didn't care where we went; I just knew I needed out.

Thankfully, we live just 2 hours from the ocean. We had plenty of daylight left to take us there. Without realizing it, we drove straight there. It was paradise!

I had to laugh as Bruce discovered the curiousity of walking on sand. He took two steps and just started to giggle for the wonder of it. Even when he lost his balance, he just laughed. He loved to pick up big handfuls and just let it slide out of his fingers.

Our little boy was also mesmerized by the ocean. He ran straight for it. It didn't matter that the water was cold. He laughed as the waves lapped at his feet, and then as they crashed into us. It was pure magic! I can't wait for the summer!

Several Thoughts on a Sunday

2011-02-27T21:35:00.000-08:00

1. When God created the earth, I wonder if He sometimes experimented.

Speaking of the lemon: "Hmmm, this is good, but what would it be like in green?"

2. Speaking of citrus, my little boy loves it! The more tart and sour the better. We gave him a slice of lemon the other day which he immediately stuffed in his mouth. Then he pulled it out and just giggled because the taste was so new. Over and over he licked the lemon and then giggled. Once he'd sucked that slice dry, he reached for another one. Now he'll go to our stash and bring me a lemon or a grapefruit to cut open for him. What a ham!

3. Sundays go so much better, life goes so much better, when I've adequately prepared. Organization - of my time and my space - is not my strong suit and is something that I'm trying to work on. Amazing that I made it through grad school, right? I'm realizing that for most things I have to start preparing MUCH sooner than I would usually start. I'm still pondering and learning. This article from the Ensign has given me much to think about how my physical preparation mirrors my spiritual preparation.

4. I speak differently through a pen and a sheet of paper than I do to a screen and a keyboard. Funny that I should have this epiphany now, but I suppose it's a matter of audience.

5. My little boy does not like the song, "My Heavenly Father Loves Me." Every time I sing it around the house, he breaks down in tears which quickly turn to sobs if I don't stop. I was asked to play a duet with a friend at church for a special musical number. We decided to play a gorgeous arrangement of that song. I was worried that today's number might be a bit rough for him. Turns out my concerns were realized. Brent had to take him out. We used to sing it to him to help him sleep when he was just new. Now he thinks that it means bedtime, and the hysterics begin.

6. So grateful for music in my life. I was honored to participate in the number at church today. I was blessed in my preparation of the number. I was blessed to be able to create something beautiful with someone else and feel our relationship grow. I hope those who heard it could feel the testimony in our hearts that we endeavored to share, and that I was not the only one who left strengthened.

And just one more because he's just so darn cute.

A Little e. e. cummings

2011-02-21T13:26:00.000-08:00

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any--lifted from the no
of all nothing--human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

Confession

2011-02-17T16:25:00.000-08:00

I know I should like, or at least tolerate Pachabel's Canon in D. I've tried to love it, honestly, I have. In fact, when I was younger, there was a point in my life when I could have said that it was among my favorite songs. That all changed when I became a cellist. And had to play that blasted song at a wedding. Cellists do not like Canon in D. It's torture. Pure agony. I know of cellists who invent ways to keep themselves engaged in the song - including eating a banana while playing, and switching hands. I have a feeling that if I ever go mad, it will feel just like being stuck in a never-ending loop of Canon in D. Pandora actually had the audacity to try to sneak that one into my Bach playlist not once, but twice today. Disgusting.

It feels so good to finally get that off my chest.

A Beautiful Day

2011-02-01T20:56:00.001-08:00

Today was a truly beautiful day! I woke up happy, with a light heart. I knew that there wasn't any reason for me to be feeling like that - especially when I looked at my list of unaccomplished tasks. But, then again, there wasn't any reason for me to NOT feel like that. Fresh and new, unencumbered. It was glorious!

I've been reflecting lately on a lesson I learned a little over a decade ago from one of the most dynamic women I've ever met in my life. Dr. Lynn Bielefelt was the conductor of the Arizona All-State Choir in 2000. I didn't get to spend much time with her, in the grand scope of things, but she was one of those people who leaves an indelible impact on you, regardless of the time spent. While I didn't know her well, I still felt loss upon learning that she had lost her long fight with cancer not even a whole year after our All-State experience. She was like a flame that burned as brightly as it could - a short, but intense flame that radiated energy.

It's funny now, that the things that she taught that have stuck with me, resounding in my skull these last couple of weeks, have nothing to do with music. Rather, they have to do with having a fabulous day. She said that every morning, when she first woke up she would stretch all her muscles until they were loose and happy. And then she would drink one full glass of water. I think she also mentioned spending some time meditating, mentally preparing for the day. Then, she could proceed with her daily affairs and be sure to have a wonderful day.

While I might not have taken her advice right there on the spot, it's stuck with me. In recent months, I've taken stock of myself, my life. I've realized that there are several course corrections that I need to take. They may not be drastic, but if I don't make them now, I will end up somewhere entirely apart from where I wanted to go.

So, I'm stretching first thing in the morning. I'm drinking a large glass of water before I do anything else. And of course, I'm taking time to meditate, to pray, to prepare for the day. I think it's amazing how much of making goals and keeping them is mental. It's deciding that you can do what you've set out to do. It must be working because today was a beautiful day.

Lessons From A Kindergartner

2011-01-25T19:21:00.000-08:00

One of the joys of my job is that every other week, I get to be in charge of yard duty in the morning on the kindergarten playground. I think it's hilarious and enlightening to see life through the eyes of 5-year-olds.

This morning, I gained another pearl of wisdom. Two little guys came up to me, obviously frustrated. They both started talking at once, so I asked them to each talk one at a time. The first one indignantly points to the other and says, "He won't stop following me, and it's really bothering me!"

I looked at the other little guy, and with his arms spread wide, he appealed, "I just wanted to ask him if he wanted to play with me!"

I was expecting to have to do some mediating here, but once the first fellow heard his explanation, he said, "Oh, okay." And they walked off together with their arms around each other toward the monkey bars.

How much easier and less frustrating could our lives be if we just stop being bothered, and hear each other out?

Missing the cello

2011-01-23T20:31:00.001-08:00

There have been complaints about my absence. I feel badly, but I am just one me, and I guess I'm learning that I can only really focus on one thing at a time. I've been trying to get myself more organized and working on some healthier habits. More on that later. I promise.

In the meantime, I have something to admit. Every now and again, I get in a funk. Not a bad funk, but always a funk in which I wish I had more time in life. More time, especially, to devote to music like I used to. I really miss it.

I've really been missing the cello lately (probably thanks to that lovely Christmas Cello CD by Steven Sharp Nelson that I received for Christmas - thanks Mom and Dad!). I miss spending that much time developing those talents and that other voice. I miss the chance to really connect with something more spiritual and create something beautiful. And I miss the fun that comes with those connections - be it with an instrumental group, or even an audience.

So, in light of that, I thought I'd share a little slice of joy (and longing) with you. I hope you enjoy!

And another:

And for fun:

The Idea Room Giveaway

2010-11-27T22:27:00.001-08:00

This wonderfully crafty lady has this wonderfully crafty blog to enable people who wish they were wonderfully crafty.

She's having a giveaway for a nifty little machine. Check it out here.

Fall Happenings (of which there were many)

2010-11-23T22:06:00.000-08:00

Between a bout of pneumonia - seriously - and going crazy with all the goings-on at work and with the Primary Program, I'm sad to say that I've fallen behind here. I've fallen behind with many areas of my life. Interesting how being sick can completely wipe you out for weeks, and you have to focus on just the essentials. Which, for me, took sitting down and realizing what, exactly, the essentials are.

The following pictures illustrate some of our fall happenings, and the essentials in my life. Not the least of which include: brother's dive meets, weddings, cousins, 5ks, the County Fair, an avid smiler, an anniversary, and lots and lots of family!

I Ain't Scared of No Ghost

2010-11-01T13:25:00.001-07:00

We saw this on our drive back to California after my brother's wedding. Classic!

P as in . . . pneumonia

2010-10-31T10:28:00.000-07:00

On Thursday I started feeling cruddy. I knew I had to be sick because it was cold outside (about 50 degrees) and I felt cold. I never feel cold. Seriously, my husband teases me that we could live in the artic tundra and I would still be a furnace. This was a cold that seeped into my bones and wouldn't leave, regardless of the fact that I was actually wearing a sweatshirt. Very strange.

Then I started getting a sore throat. No big deal. Probably just a cold. I should be fine, besides the annoying fact that I couldn't get warm. I came home and rested, and pretended that my layers of blankets and sweats could keep out the chill.

The next day I felt exhausted. Walking to work hurt my lungs (but I just attributed that to our usual poor air quality), and actually gave me a little stitch in my side. I could hardly think straight. And again, the numbing cold wouldn't leave me alone. I finally decided it was futile to try to accomplish anything of real importance. I had no appetite (as if I could swallow anything anyway). I, thankfully, got a ride home and immediately walked back into my room and crashed. I was finally warm enough. Too warm. Sweating. It was difficult to rest peacefully when my own body couldn't regulate. I was reminded of a time when I was little and my family stayed in a hotel . . . I think in Colorado. I remember sitting with my brothers in the hotel hot tub until we were sweating, and then running and jumping in the big pool. We'd come up for air, gasping against the cold. Something about the shock of temperature change was thrilling, but after doing that a few times, I felt sick. Dizzy.

I had to be at my other job Saturday morning, and I dreaded it. But, I knew that they didn't have anyone to cover me, especially since I'd not come in the night before. I argued with myself that I had gotten plenty of rest the night before, I'd be fine. Still I had no appetite. I could hardly swallow anything more than liquid. I made sure to keep my distance from my patients, wearing gloves and one of those suffocating masks. I broke out in a sweat just walking down the hall, let alone to push a wheelchair back to my office. I felt like a vice was strapped around my lungs, inhibiting how deeply I could breathe. Things did not bode well for me.

I came home and begged Brent to take me to urgent care. I was expecting a diagnosis of strep throat, something easily treatable with antibiotics. The doctor wanted a chest x-ray to rule out pneumonia or bronchitis. Fine with me.

Turns out, it was pneumonia. I feel relieved in a way, to know that I really am sick. There's a reason I can't breathe. I wasn't just making it up. And, it's treatable! I got a fun shot of antibiotics yesterday, and more to last me through the week. I also get an inhaler and a special cough suppressant. I'm glad I didn't wait for my symptoms to get more serious. Now, I just have to rest (easier said than done with a busy toddler in the house who really likes my attention). I hope and pray that my boys don't get this. I can tell the antibiotics are helping - I can breathe a little easier, but I know I'm not over this yet. I'm grateful for those who are helping to take care of me (namely my patient husband).

This little smile works wonders too:

Soup of the week: Chili

2010-10-26T07:15:00.001-07:00

With the change of the season starting (finally!) and the advent of cooler weather, we've decided that we want to start having soup at least once a week. One of those big crockpots full - that you eat all week.

I'm pleased to say that I made my first, completely from scratch, chili yesterday. It had to cook a little longer than I thought it would for the beans to be completely softened (read: 10 hours), but the flavor was good, and it was filling. Hooray for a new experiment! I'm really excited because it was a non-recipe experience. I just made it up as I went (big deal for me - I have a hard time deviating from a recipe card).

I have a few ideas for future soups and stews, but I'd love any ideas. Let me know what your family favorites are!

Makes Me Smile!

2010-10-12T21:53:00.000-07:00

Talk about market saturation!

Enjoy!

Quirky

2010-09-16T20:46:00.000-07:00

I have a quirk that I'm reluctant to share, but at my husband's urging I will disclose here on the interwebs. He thinks it's hilarious.

Here goes: Brent and I have different schedules, especially when school is in session for him. As we share a computer and are often not at home at the same time, I will frequently send him "subliminal messages" regarding anything of interest to me before I went to bed.

These "subliminal messages" come in the form of open tabs in the internet browser. And they frequently include items that I wouldn't mind if he happened to get them for me for my birthday. Or Christmas. Or just because he loves me. A little visual list of a few of my favorite things, if you will.

So far, he has yet to take the hint, but he at least knows the meaning behind the message. Love you, Brent!

Recovering and a Giveaway!!

2010-09-15T21:28:00.000-07:00

Thankfully this little boy is no longer sick. This picture was taken Saturday night right before his little world turned upside down. I feel so bad because he acts scared of his bed now. It's getting better though. There's nothing so heart-wrenching as watching your little one be sick.

On a happy note, my husband has taken up a new hobby. A new hobby that he's discovered is actually becoming a talent. A talent that he loves. A talent that he's decided to share with the world.

Please visit his blog, Aaron Hill's Jewelry for more information on the giveaway!!

Sick

2010-09-12T11:10:00.000-07:00

Brent and I decided to stay up and watch a movie last night. Not my wisest decision, but sometimes things like that need to be done. Then we tossed and turned and tried to get to sleep. I hate when I stay up too late and then can't sleep because my mind is racing about how I'm too tired and I have too much to do.

Then, I heard my little boy cry from the next room over. What was he doing up in the middle of the night? He's been a good sleeper, so I'm not accustomed to the midnight stirrings anymore. I surely wasn't going to get to sleep anytime soon now!

Brent offered to get up and help the little guy while I continued to try to drift off. Thankfully, I agreed to this arrangement and proceeded to remain frustrated with myself for being unable to just drift off. Sleep remained elusive.

Moments later, Brent came in and told me he was going to need a little help. I smelled it before Brent told me that Bruce had thrown up. All over his entire bed - blankets, bumpers, everything. I quickly took Bruce and got him in the tub while Brent dismantled the bed.

I've never seen Bruce so sad and sedate. He just sat under the faucet and let the water course over his little body. He didn't have a fever, but he was shivering. I didn't want him to get dehydrated, so we tried a little pedialyte. He moaned and threw up more and looked at me with sad eyes. Sometimes mortality breaks a mother's heart.

When Brent was done cleaning and disinfecting Bruce's room, we got the little boy out and into new pajamas. He clung to me as I rocked him back to sleep. Thankfully he slept through the night, and he's managed to handle a little bit of applesauce and water. I just hope we have our happy boy back soon!

Tender Mercies

2010-09-05T16:07:00.000-07:00

About two weeks ago, our family experienced an unexpected tender mercy from the Lord. My dear friend works for the opera in Germany, and therefore got the month of August off (it's a European thing - government officials get a month off). We have kept in close contact in the years that she's been there and I've been here, but we hadn't seen each other in about 2 years. We had a wonderful time together - singing, laughing, visiting tall trees, making the baby giggle, and talking for hours. She's always been one of those friends that brings out the best in me and makes me want to be better. I love her view of the world and the people in it.

On the last day of her visit, we decided to visit the beach. The baby hadn't seen the ocean yet, and I had been craving the salty fresh air. We'd hit the beach and from there take her to the airport before we headed home. It was the perfect plan.

We loaded the car with all we would need for our adventure, and hit the road. It was a beautiful day and we were reveling in the good weather and the good company. As our car began to climb the stretch of Highway 99 - more fondly referred to round these parts as "the Grapevine," - our car began to drag. Startled, I looked at my husband and then down at the temperature gauge. Sure enough, the needle was climbing with each mile we went, and it showed no sign of stopping.

Tender mercy #1: the first place we could pull off had a water spigot. I had packed extra water in the car several months ago as a result of a prompting, but it was nice to be able to use the water there and keep all our resevoirs intact.

Tender mercy #2: we were on the city side of the mountain, and thus we still had phone signal. I could call my Dad and have him walk us through the steps we needed to cool our car down.

Tender mercy #3: The car eventually cooled down and we could head back down the hill without seeing the temperature rise.

Tender mercy #4: There was a shop right off the highway as we headed back into town where we could pull off and have them look at the car.

Tender mercy #5: They had a car that we could rent so we could still get my friend to the airport on time.

Tender mercy #6: She made her flight with minutes to spare.

While I was dropping her off at the airport 100 miles from our house, Brent talked to the mechanics and they informed us that our car required $900 worth of repairs. We didn't have $900 to spare.

Tender mercy #7: The shop informed us that our car would be able to handle the "around town" errands that are part of daily life without requiring to have all the repairs made.

Tender mercy #8: Brent's mother's husband works on cars as a hobby and he agreed to look at the car for us. (Yay for a second opinion!)

Tender mercy #9: He told us that the repairs the shop suggested would cost us a mere $100 at the most to do ourselves and he'd help us fix it.

That whole experience reinforced my knowledge that I have a Father in Heaven who loves me and is very aware of my needs. I am humbled by the fact that "the tender mercies of the Lord are overall those whom he hath chosen, because of their faith, to make them mighty even unto the power of deliverance (1 Nephi 1:20). I'm so grateful that we are not left to our own devices to make it through this life.

Changes

2010-08-29T14:50:00.000-07:00

Sorry I've been A.W.O.L. for a while. Things in our life suddenly got very busy. I'm now in the Primary Presidency. We've had visitors from near and far. We've had car failure. We have a new missionary to write. Bruce has new teeth. I have a new job. Wonderful changes, but a little stressful all the same.

So, yes, we're still here. Thanks for the well wishes. Love to you all!

Determined

2010-07-20T21:31:00.001-07:00

This little boy has been learning to stand. I've been amazed at his persistence. The day he finally figured out that he could balance on his two little feet without falling, and that it wasn't scary, he practiced all day. Even when he'd inevitably topple over, he would get right back up and try again. And he never cried. He showed signs of frustration, but that didn't keep him from continuing to try.

I hope I'm that determined. To do my job well. To be a good mother. There are so many distractions that discourage us. Little foibles and faults. I don't know that my encouragement helped my little boy. I have a feeling he'd have been as determined regardless of whether or not I was even in the room. All the same, it made me want to cheer on others better rather than condemn them for their missteps. I don't want to hold that against anyone. Why is it so easy to be critical? We're all learning. I knew that parenting would change my nature, hopefully for the better, but I didn't fully grasp how being a mother would completely alter the way I view the world and the people in it.

"What the world needs now . . ." (this song always reminds me of Ms. Dalrymple's English class . . . )

How Time Flies

2010-07-14T19:31:00.001-07:00

Yesterday, I had a moment of frustration and embarrassment. Sure, I can look at it now and laugh, but at the time, it was thoroughly exasperating.

I was already frustrated because we were running a bit late. I got the baby settled in his seat. I picked up my purse, the pump, my diaper bag, and my lunch while Brent started the car. Then I jumped in and we took off.

As we pulled up to work, I started unloading the car and double checking my saddle bags. Uh oh! Something was missing. In my haste to load everything in the car, I had put my planner on top of the car. Now that selfsame planner was lost, likely strewn across the thoroughfare to work.

My sweet husband offered to return and search for it. Desperately, I hoped it would just be in our parking lot. Alas, I was not so fortunate. The planner sat precariously balanced for a surprising distance, but it just couldn't maintain it's hold. Unfortunately for me, I had a bunch of loose papers in it that are now lost to the wind . . . and the canal. Luckily for me, however, the planner survived, largely unscathed. And that's how time flew.

Happy Father's Day, Brent.

2010-06-20T16:11:00.001-07:00

To Brent, thanks for making us smile every day. We love you! - J & little B

2010-06-05T21:12:00.000-07:00

Apparently, my muse is on sabbatical. I miss writing, but it's been the low man on the totem pole lately. I've felt like my life is just so "business" oriented lately that I have nothing to write about. This is a dangerous place to be.

I read other blogs and wish I had something profound to say. Profound just isn't in my vocabulary lately. But, I always feel a sense of transition in my life with the changing of the seasons. It's like my internal clock remembers the anticipation of summer break: days at the pool, summer reading, nights out on the trampoline looking at stars. Camping, cousins, and being carefree. I'll be the first to admit, summer isn't my favorite season, but there is something magical about it.

The most magical thing in my life is the rise in my power bill. No, it's not. It's watching my little boy figure out how to pick up tiny objects with his tiny fingers. Watching him learn to pull himself up and stand. Watching him squeal with delight when he sees a dog. Watching him clap and make a beeline for the piano the minute anyone starts playing. He's only too content to sit on your lap while you play and be a part of it. Watching him reach out in wonder at the glistening pool as we splash together. That's pure magic.

Gravity is working against me

2010-05-23T21:27:00.000-07:00

Poor Bruce learned about natural laws today. What goes up must come down. A body in motion stays in motion unless acted upon by another force. Newton would have been proud.

Bruce was crawling in the bathroom and slipped. Bonk #1.

Bruce wiggled past me and fell of the bed. Bonk #2.

Bruce sat up and knocked his head on the pew at church. Bonk #3.

Bruce squirmed in my hand and arched his back as I was rounding a corner. Bonk #4.

Bruce knocked his head on the table. Bonk #5.

Bruce was crawling around his crib and ran into the corner of it. Bonk #6.

So, he learned that mortality hurts. And I learned that I can't always stop mortality from hurting my little boy. Good thing babies bounce.

The video is a couple of weeks old, but it shows that Bruce has figured out that he's mobile.

Brent and Bruce go to San Fransisco

2010-05-12T20:49:00.000-07:00

While Jenny was stuck in a certification course for work, Brent and Bruce explored the city:

We're Still Here . . .

2010-04-23T21:09:00.000-07:00

Sorry I've been absent from these halls for so long. Here's what we've been up to (note: each of these could be their own post. For further details, feel free to contact us):

-One of our speech pathologists left, so we're a two-man crew doing a three-man job. Busy, busy!

-Meghan B. came to visit while attending a speech conference here in town. Fun to see a good friend again!

-General Conference!!

-Our newest Little Golden Book: Brent Visits the Urgent Care (followed by the sequel, Brent Visits the ER) It was basically a revolution within his intestines. Thankfully the coup has been quelled and Brent still has all his pieces in the right place (at one point we were worried it was appendicitis, which would require subsequent removal of said appendix).

-Bruce cuts his first tooth.

-Bruce masters sitting up.

-And rolling over

-Winco is his favorite store.

-Jenn is studying for the VitalStim certification course next weekend in San Fransisco.

-The Hills buy a piano.

I promise, I'll be better in the future. I've just been treading water as it is. Love to all!

A Day at the Park

2010-03-25T20:07:00.000-07:00

I love the swings! Something about the freedom of the movement, the rhythm of the squeaking chains, being suspended between the sky and the ground. Apparently, Bruce agrees with me.

Spring Fever

2010-03-22T21:09:00.000-07:00

March came in like a lion. We had lots of rain and clouds. It felt like the Mother Earth was spring cleaning. I love this time of year - a time of newness and rebirth.

With that gusty entry, I felt the need to beautify my own little sphere. I have long wanted flowers on my little balcony, and resolved that this year was the year to remedy my dreary existence.

So, a couple of weeks ago, I begged Brent to take me to buy pots and flowers. Since we’re also trying to become more self-reliant, we decided to start an herb garden. I’m still not convinced that we get adequate sunlight to grow vegetables, so we got some broccoli for a trial run.

Life already feels happier!

Lost in Translation

2010-03-10T20:10:00.000-08:00

Today my co-worker was working with one of our Spanish-speaking patients. Part of treatment involved an activity like the game Scattegories. The letter they were to formulate answers with was the letter E.

His answers:

1. Name a fruit: Estrawberry

2. Something to eat for lunch: Esandwich.

3. School subjects: Esocial Estudies

Made my day.

Lost . . .

2010-03-09T19:20:00.001-08:00

. . . my willpower to do anything productive once I get home from work. Granted, I think spending an hour at the pediatrician's office before I actually could come home. The ear infection should be gone, but I still have one uncomfortable little tyke.

Anyway, if you happen to see my willpower, please send it my way. I have quite the list of to-dos, and I'm going to need it's help if I'm going to even make a dent.

Independent Study

2010-03-02T20:26:00.000-08:00

Due to the influx of Spanish-speaking patients I've had in the last month, I have been quite frustrated with my inadequacy to meet their need. True, I grew up in Arizona, and one could wrongly conjecture that I would have gained at least a cursory grasp of the language. If by cursory you mean I could count to 10 and name all 12 months in order, well, then yes, I had a cursory grasp of the language.

Working in my field, I have actually picked up passable Spanish. Passable enough that I can meet basic needs for my patients. I can thank my brother for helping me with my accent and for fixing my word usage, but I still feel insufficient.

So, tonight I buckled and started looking for a free online Spanish class - just something to help me be more prepared.

I wasn't quite prepared for the list of on-line courses available. Namely bowling and intermediate swimming. I just don't think I'll be taking my computer anywhere near the pool any time soon.

And here's the cuteness factor for the day:

Photo Shoot

2010-02-16T20:26:00.001-08:00

I love this little face!

Hey Mikey! He likes it!

2010-02-09T19:52:00.000-08:00

Due to the growing interest in what I'm putting in my mouth, and the decreasing amounts of sleep for myself and my baby, I decided it was time to change something up.

See, Bruce had been sleeping through the night for about a month. It was heaven. Then, last week, all of a sudden, he starts waking up completely inconsolable. He cried until he was fed. I thought it was just a one-night fluke, but it lasted for about a week.

Thus, tonight my baby tried rice cereal.

After a few initial introductions of the spoon, he started to get the hang of it. By the end he was eagerly leaning forward for the next mouthful. I'm not sure how much of he ate compared to how much he was wearing by the end, but I think it was a success.

I'm so proud of my little boy, and at the same time, I felt a small taste of selfish sorrow at the event. Sorrow for the fact that I am not the sole provider for his needs the way I have been for the last year (see, I'm being completely selfish). He needs more than me. It's a very small thing, but he's already growing to be more independent of me. I'm thrilled because that's exactly how it's supposed to happen. I just don't necessarily want it to happen. Not yet. Not tonight.

Smiles

2010-01-21T21:08:00.001-08:00

Crying

2010-01-19T20:51:00.000-08:00

I sit at my computer to keep from feeling guilty.

The bedtime routine is complete: bath, a feeding, snuggles and story-time. I even rocked the little critter and sent him off to dreamland. And here, 10 minutes later, he has woken up and begun the cries. He usually goes to bed quite well - hardly a peep. But tonight, I am hearing the tears of displeasure. My current situation is not unique to me.

I know he'll be just fine, but it still breaks my heart a little bit.

It's exhausting to be so needed. I know that sounds like a full-of-myself thing to say, but tonight I'm feeling all of the demands on my time and my psyche. Work, school, home, family. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to just put aside being a responsible adult for an hour.

And then, I remember the moment today when I took a step outside a felt the faint drizzle of rain on my cheeks and beheld the glorious full rainbow to the east - a tender mercy on a day when I was really feeling the grind. I have so much to be grateful for. I'm even happy to have a healthy, crying baby.

Home again, home again, jiggety jig

2010-01-02T22:14:00.000-08:00

We're back home again, after spending an extended vacation 500 miles from here with dear family and friends. After being gone for a month, we had to start the new year running errands to get our life in order again. As we were heading out of Costco, I overheard the funniest thing. There was a child sitting in the front of a shopping cart, and using his whiningest voice, he repeated over and over, "I just want to be a good boy, Mom." The sound of his voice and the meaning of his words were so incongruous that I couldn't help but laugh.

As wonderful as our month away was, I must admit, it's good to be home.

Wednesday Smiles

2009-11-25T12:55:00.001-08:00

Happiness Meter

2009-11-24T16:08:00.000-08:00

Some people are easy to read. You know exactly how they're feeling based on their body language and their facial expressions. They're an open book. My baby is one of those people.

Bruce has gotten to be more and more interactive this week. We can always tell how happy he is based on the movement of his appendages. The more excited he is, the more movement we see. There is a direct correlation between his level of happiness and involvement of his arms and legs. Thus, one leg moving is a little bit happy. Two legs = definitely more happy. Both legs and both arms going at full speed indicates that his little heart is about to burst!

Today I turned on The Sound of Music. Bruce loves music, and once the singing started, his little arms and legs started going. I even got a smile, but that hasn't become consistent yet. It will be by the end of the week at the rate he's going. I managed to get a little video of the happiness meter. Unfortunately, of course, once I turned off the camera, he really started moving.

Just Like Heaven

2009-11-18T13:43:00.000-08:00

I can hardly believe how quickly time flies. It feels as if Brent just brought us all home from the hospital in some ways, and yet it feels as if I've always been a mother.

I was talking with Brent not too long ago about the change in our lives with our new little addition. It's interesting. Before we were married, I remember wondering if I was ready to give up my freedom. Freedom to come and go as I pleased. Freedom to spend my earnings as I wished. Freedom to keep my home just as I wanted it. Could I really see myself bound to someone forever? I was completely in love with Brent and excited for our future together. But, in my mind it was unknown, and that meant it was unsafe.

Despite my worries, the day I knelt across the altar from my Brent, I was overcome with a feeling of rightness. I knew that being married to him was the right thing for me. All of my worries melted away. They didn't matter. We'd face the future together and it would be more complete than any single future I could imagine.

As the time drew closer for Bruce to join our family, I remember feeling similar uncertainties. We would no longer have the same freedom to come and go. We would have increased responsibilities and roles. I wasn't sure if I was cut out for that new life.

And yet, from the minute he entered our lives, I have felt that rightness again. I can't imagine life without Bruce. I relish this new role. Life feels more whole - more complete with him in it. I love hearing his little voice. Seeing his little smiles. I love watching his big eyes take everything in. Yes, it feels so right. Like my soul gets to catch glimpses of heaven. I don't know if it gets any better than this.

'Tis the Season to be Winning

2009-11-11T10:24:00.001-08:00

I just entered a contest to win a free Kindle from Noobie (worth $259!) and I wanted you to have a chance to win one too!

All you need to do to enter is to click the link below or copy and paste it into your favorite Internet browser:

http://www.noobie.com/kindle-giveaway?ref=285440724

Be sure to read the email you get from Noobie after you register. You'll get your own unique link that you can use to earn even more entries in the drawing!

I heart social experiments

2009-10-28T12:47:00.000-07:00

Things like this really make me smile. I love that there are people who dare to shake up everyday existence.

Hut, Two, Three, Four . . .

2009-10-27T17:55:00.000-07:00

I think The Jungle Book is the only movie that my pediatrician's office owns. The amazing thing is, it doesn't matter when we go in, it's always playing in the same place. It's been two weeks, and the trend is the same. And I'm left singing all day.

14 days of Bruce - a photo essay

2009-10-24T11:32:00.001-07:00

My brother said that he didn't think we'd actually brought the little bug home with us since we'd only posted pictures from the hospital. So, due to popular request, here are a few of our favorites.

Sink or Swim?

2009-10-23T19:11:00.001-07:00

One evening, my junior year of college, I was invited by my family home evening brothers to go to a bonfire down by Utah Lake. None of my roommates wanted to go, but I was trying to expand my social circle and push some comfort zones, so I agreed to go.

I rode out with Joel and Autumn, two of my FHE brothers. There was to be a crowd of about 20 people out there. There was definitely a carefree spirit in the air - it was the weekend and we were off to a good time. Autumn drove a Geo Tracker, and once we hit the open dirt on the shore, he was anxious to put that little car through its paces.

We were the first car out there, and he headed straight for the water's edge. He was having fun driving in figure 8's that gradually got closer and closer to the edge of the lake. Unfortunately for Autumn, it was a dark night and he couldn't see how wide the mud bank was. By the time he decided to head back to the dry ground, he was losing traction. We inched forward slowly, but it was a losing battle. The mud slowly but surely pulled his tires in to their axles. And then our wheels were turning, but we gained no ground. In fact, the more he tried, the deeper we sank.

We quickly but gingerly jumped out of the car and into the sludge. By this time, other cars were arriving. Friends and strangers alike gathered around to assess the situation. We tried wedging wood blocks (brought for the bonfire) under the wheels to give them enough purchase to get out. One of the other guys there brought their truck around to try to pull out the Tracker. Unfortunately, we were farther in than anyone had anticipated. The other, heavier truck also sunk into the sludge and refused to be moved.

At this point, we were getting frustrated, and it was getting late. We were also quickly running out of options. Then, one of the guys remembered that our bishop had mud tires on his truck. If only they had his phone number. Unfortunately, of all the guys there (including the executive secretary for the ward), no one had his number handy.

Ladies to the rescue! Our bishop spent the beginning of every Relief Society meeting for the first month in our ward having us all practice his phone number in unison. He told us that he wanted us to be able to call him if we were ever on a date and the so-called gentleman was acting ungentlemanly. He admonished us to carry a quarter in each shoe so we would always be ready. He said, "You tell that young man, 'My bishop can be here in 12 minutes. He's 6'4," weighs 250 lbs, and once spent a night in jail for losing his temper.'"

Well, several of us girls started to recite the bishop's number in the unison sing-song way we'd practiced. We made the call. Bless that man! Bishop Young drove out to the far side of Utah Lake with his mud tires and pulled both vehicles out of the lake.

Poor Autumn didn't hear the end of it at church the next day. His car looked like it had barely survived a brush with the mud monster. He took it all good-naturedly. That was the last bonfire I attended at Utah Lake. To this day, I still have Bishop Young's number memorized.

The Secret of Life

2009-10-20T11:56:00.001-07:00

Happy 100th post to me! I didn't think I'd actually have that much to say when I started this. Thanks for reading! Thanks for your love and support. Happy Tuesday!

Unsolicited Book Review

2009-10-19T15:26:00.000-07:00

I just finished reading These Is My Words by Nancy Turner. It's been on my list for a few years, but I just hadn't gotten around to reading it. Then, my mom came to help me get ready for our new addition and she had brought that book with her. She loved it so much, she insisted on leaving it here so I could read it.

The book is beautifully written. It's full of rich, interesting characters. There's action, drama, and romance. It's been a long time since I've been so hooked by a book that I couldn't stand to put it down to sleep (and sleep is a very precious thing in these parts these days). I would recommend this book to anyone. It's a fabulous read! Thanks Mom, for insisting I read it before I finished my current read.

Anyone else have a good "must read" that I haven't heard about? It seems like I'm always looking for a new book. I'd love some suggestions.

Introducing . . .

2009-10-14T16:01:00.000-07:00

Bruce Aaron Hill. Born on October 9, 2009. Weight: 8 lbs, 12 oz. Length: 21 inches.

Lucky for me, it was a pretty classic labor (once he finally decided to come). My mom got into town last Monday to help me get ready for his arrival. We walked, we cleaned, we nested. Then we waited. Patience is not one of my virtues, but I don't think I was nearly as anxious as Brent was for his arrival. Finally, on Friday morning, I woke up feeling terribly. I just knew it had to be that day. We went on a walk, and the contractions were already going. I got home and showered, and then I could no longer stand.

Thankfully, we found a brother in the ward who could come over and help Brent administer a blessing. Then we were off to the hospital. Of course, our little guy would come on a day when we hit every red light. There was an accident on the major road, so we had to detour through more traffic, but we arrived soon enough and were checked in.

From there, labor went just as it was supposed to. I am amazed at the human body. Labor was a harrowing and hallowing experience, one that I'm honored to have been a part of. I was so grateful to have Brent and my mom there with me. I needed that moral support. I got a little dehydrated and had to wait for the IV drip to finish before they gave me an epidural (around 2). Then, it was up to my body to do the rest of the work. Around 6:00 we started pushing, and Bruce arrived at 6:30 on the nose.

He's already got me wrapped around his little fingers. There is just nothing that compares to having a new, sweet little baby in your home. I'm honored to be his mother, and I hope I can live up to this sacred calling.

On Bruce's due date. Still two days to wait.

Is it time-o?

I got to hold Bruce minutes after he came. I have no words to describe the feeling of welcoming a new little person to this earth.

Our new little family.

This just feels so right.

Weighing in.

It's so bright!

Bonding with dad

I love the look on Dad's face in this one.

Bruce has really dark eyes. I'm betting they'll go brown.

Left to right: Brent, Dr. Ynostroza, me, Bruce, Mom, and Debbie (Brent's mom)

Hi, Mom.

Look, I can suck two thumbs at once.

Sleeping so good.

Welcome home, little Bruce.

Why I Don't Belong On Hell's Kitchen

2009-10-02T17:09:00.000-07:00

“I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

Mom’s parting words as I stood alone in the kitchen. My young heart fluttered at the thought of being alone in the kitchen. Not that the kitchen was a particularly scary room. I just hadn’t ever been turned loose to create in that space without supervision.

Earlier in the day, I had asked mom if I could bake cookies all by myself. Due to my cautious nature, I don’t always like to do new projects all by myself, for fear of messing up. Looking back, I’m surprised at my proclaimed independence. Then again, this experience may have more deeply entrenched my perfectionistic, and thus fearful of failure tendencies.

I was alone in the kitchen to make cookies on an overcast day while Mom napped. Time to test my wings.

I decided applesauce chocolate chip cookies sounded delicious. I remember carefully pulling out all the ingredients and double-checking the recipe. Flour? Check. Sugar? Check. Spices? Check. I was all set.

Carefully, I creamed the sugar and the butter. I added the eggs. I remember intently putting each ingredient back as I went - just like Mom. I wanted her to be proud of me for doing this right all by myself. When at last all the ingredients were mixed, I started loading up the cookie sheets.

The smell that came from the oven was heavenly. The warm, welcoming smell of baked goods is still one that I associate with “home.” It makes you feel as if all is right in the world to enter a home that smells of homemade love. With my task in it’s final stages, I was feeling more confident by the minute. I’d helped mom load and unload cookie sheets before, and everything smelled so good. I just knew she’d be pleased with me.

Mom helped me finish cleaning up the kitchen after her nap. I think we even loaded a few plates up to give to neighbors. I was pleased with myself. After dinner, we all sat down with our glasses of milk and a cookie in hand. I bit into my cookie, anticipating the euphoric soft, chocolatey-goodness to melt over my tongue. Alas, I bit into something hard and not sweet at all. The grimace on dad’s face confirmed my heart’s dread.

My cookies were a failure. It turns out that when a recipe calls for cloves, it usually means ground cloves and not whole cloves. I wasn’t sure when I was reading the recipe. Lesson learned. We’ll just say that my husband is glad that I’ve become a more accomplished cook and baker since that day. Still, I don't think this will ever be anything more than a hobby for me.

What's for dinner?

2009-09-25T17:18:00.000-07:00

My paternal grandmother was an inspiring woman. Grandma Rose was always learning a new skill, trying to improve on the many gifts and talents she already possessed. It seemed that every time we visited, she would pull me aside for a quick piano lesson. She always had a list of ready questions - how do I count this measure? what does maestroso mean? how exactly should this passage sound? When I was in college, she would frequently bequeath old cookbooks (how I came to be the proud owner of the Crisco cookbook) and new recipes. I know she watched (and frequently recorded) cooking and painting shows. When she passed away, we found more evidence of her quest for knowledge and self-improvement. Books about improving your voice. Books about drawing and painting. Books about nature. Books about God.

I was recently going through some of those passed-on recipes. Since I have more time at home now, I've been enjoying finding my love of cooking again. (It's hard to love it when you don't have time, energy, or anyone coming home to it). I have many standard favorite recipes, and cookbooks and blogs bookmarked with new recipes. In honor of grandma, I think I will share a clip from one of my favorite cooking shows, and tonight's dinner inspiration. Bon appetit!

Finding my voice

2009-09-25T15:45:00.000-07:00

*Edit from yesterday: So, I just re-read yesterday's post. It sounds awfully whiny. I'm so sorry! It was not my intention to complain, but it was my intention to give voice to my feelings. I suppose yesterday I needed to complain just a bit. I'm feeling much more optimistic today. I know that the more days my little guy gets to cook, the better off it will be for him. I would rather have a healthy baby and a safe delivery than risk his health because I'm a bit uncomfortable.

I took a class in college that has surprisingly stuck with me these many years since. It was my first year writing class, and I still think about it often. It may be because I have a love of words (much to my dear husband's amusement). It may be because the written word has greatly influenced my life. It is not surprising to me that my chosen field of work is based in language. And I will admit I have a mild obsession with pens and new journals.

One of the things Professor Taggart emphasized in that first year writing class was finding our voice. He encouraged us to write in as many different contexts as we could. As homework, we were to send a letter every week (he never read them, he just put the addressed envelopes in the mailbox for us). We were to keep a journal. I'm sure he would have encouraged blogging had it been a common form or written communication then.

As I've been reflecting on that class this past week and its impact on my life, I realize how lax I've become in my writing. I have become a lazy writer. I used to write in my journal at least weekly - even during graduate school. Since entering the professional workforce, my journal writing has become sporadic at best. I used to write letters weekly (real letters - the kind with an envelope and a stamp). Now the only envelopes that go into my mailbox usually have checks in them and are addressed to the electric company. Even my blogging has taken a desultory direction. I'm ashamed.

I have noticed a conjunctive decline in my reading as well. There are days when I don't crack open a book that doesn't relate to my work. Who is this person I have become?

So, I'm changing my tune. I'm searching for my voice. I've missed it. I'm promising myself that I will do more reading and writing. I hope you notice a difference here too.

Dialogue: "I hate waiting." "Get used to disappointment."

2009-09-24T17:48:00.000-07:00

Patience may be a virtue, but it's not one that I possess in great quantity. I hate waiting. It's not something I've ever been very good at. I was raised to be punctual (almost to the point of paranoia). I hate being late for things - for class, for work, for church, for bed. I get sweaty palms and a racing heart. Usually, I putter until the appointed hour for departure. I keep busy, finishing off projects, practicing the piano for a few extra minutes, reading a good book (but not really being able to focus on it).

Today we went to the doctor hoping for a more defined ETA for our little bug. I left feeling deflated.

No change.

For the last three weeks the report has been the same. 1 cm dilated. 50-70% effaced. Head at 0 station. No change.

I guess there’s no outward change, but my body feels different. I feel an increase in my energy levels (on the whole). My abdominal muscles are constantly sore (like I’ve just done 100 sit-ups). I have less room for my internal organs (like my lungs, and my bladder). And it’s like I get a daily deep tissue massage . . . from the inside out. And I feel like I’m sitting on a bowling ball most days.

None of these symptoms are unique to me, but they give me hope that the end is not far off. The most interesting symptom is the “nesting” instinct. I’ve spent my days catching up laundry, dusting corners, sorting piles, getting out the autumn decorations. I still have a rather long list of things that I could and should be doing, but I’m finding it to be increasingly difficult to focus on the tasks at hand. Instead, I’m distracted by the waiting.

I find myself wondering what he’ll look like. What he’ll smell like. What he’ll sound like. I want kiss those little fingers. I want to suckle and swaddle and nurture. And then I get all anxious again because I’m a victim to a timetable I have no control over.

And then I get anxious that I’m not ready for the next step. I worry that I won’t be able to figure out this mothering thing. Will I really feel that unconditional love that women talk about? The thought is far to abstract for my finite mind to understand without the concrete weight of a baby - my baby - in my arms. Am I ready for the paradigm shift - to go from counting weeks to counting months? Am I fit to help this little soul find his path in this big world? Am I equipped with all I need to remind him who he is? Waiting is not good for my excessive sense of worry.

Therefore, this week, since I am doomed to waiting, I am determined to put this anxious energy to good use. After all, there are some definite advantages to being home and “in the interim.” To list a few:

Mornings with Brent. We actually have regular time together for the first time in months. It’s been nice to start the day together.
Discovering the art of snacking. Since there’s only room in my stomach for about 1/4 c. of anything, I am becoming a professional grazer.
Having time to read. I’m re-discovering Charles Dickens and finding the discovery to be literarily delicious.
having time to find my voice again. I’ve been missing writing. A lot.
Having time to be self-sufficient. I bottled chicken this week. All by myself. For the very first time. Self-sufficiency has got to be one of the best feelings . . . hmmm, “if ye are prepared, ye shall not fear”
De-cluttering. I breathe so much easier when my house is clean. It’s a good feeling. I can enjoy perpetuating that feeling while I have the energy to do so.

Pandemic

2009-09-21T15:59:00.000-07:00

Swine flu claims it's first celebrity victim. I think we all know who gave it to him.

Hope

2009-09-19T10:50:00.000-07:00

This made me smile today.

I'm getting so excited for General Conference!

If you're going to San Francisco . . .

2009-09-13T19:48:00.001-07:00

Brent and I had the opportunity to travel this weekend to San Francisco. It felt so good to be out of town and away from the brain noise that life has become. I think we both needed the break. Brent starts school tomorrow, so we wanted to take a moment to celebrate the growing Hill family before life became crazy again.

We drove up Thursday night and stayed overnight at Kris (Mahoney) Dahlin's parents' house. They were good enough to share a bed with us for the night. I love Kris, and Brent and I both were fast fans of her new husband Jon. Friday morning we had breakfast at a delicious little restaurant and then headed into San Francisco. We got there right in time to check into our hotel and walk down a few blocks to the Embarcadero where the San Francisco symphony was giving a free outdoor concert.

The Justin Herman Plaza on the Embarcadero

My charming husband

We walked or took the bus everywhere in the city. I was pleasantly surprised by how many people offered up their seat for an obviously pregnant woman. We made lots of friends on the busses (which meant that we, unfortunately, had to backtrack to get to our original destination) including a family from Paris who were part of a house-exchange with a family from San Francisco. They had a darling five-month old son. We met a couple from St. Louis in for a conference about antimicrobial therapy. (Well, the wife was - the husband was there to see the sights). We also met a young visiting historian from England who was in the states to study the history and memoirs of the CIA. (His doctorate was on MI-5 and MI-6). Riding the bus certainly added flavor to our trip.

On Friday we went out to see the Golden Gate Bridge. What a fascinating structure! Brent had never been there either in all of his traveling to San Francisco, so it was a treat to be able to see it together. (It was a good thing we went Friday. You'll see what I mean later).

Sorry about the hair . . . it's a little windy out there. Yes, that is a 36 week baby belly. I was told I was a brave woman for walking all over San Francisco in that state. While I got tired quickly, I still feel much like my same old self.

Friday night we ate some delicious cuisine in little Italy (made by bonafide Italians) and retired to our room early. (After all that traveling, I was plum-tuckered out). Sorry - no picture of the room, but I assure you it was quite comfortable.

We slept well until about 4:15 in the morning when a flash and then a crash resounded. I was awake almost immediately. At first I thought my mind was playing tricks on me. Surely, that rumble was just the sound of the dumpsters being emptied on the street below us (the city is full of sounds!). But, then I heard another crack and the thunder rumbled through the sky scrapers like it would echo through a canyon. It was amazing! So, I just laid back and enjoyed the patter of the rain and the rumble of the thunder.

We got another little round of the storm later in the morning. The thunder was so loud that it woke Brent up. Brent's immediate words were, "Please, don't let the other plane hit us!," but I assured him it was only a thunderstorm. A glorious thunderstorm. (The first one I've heard in almost two years, actually). Saturday's weather was a bit drizzly, but we enjoyed it! It was such a nice change from our Bakersfield dustiness.

The Transcontinental Building - where does it end?

Jon and Kris Dahlin. I love these people!!!

Brent just couldn't keep out of the display. Can you blame him?

Unfortunately, the camera was dying by this point. So, no pictures of the funny sea lions, but here's one more happy picture of us. We had a great trip to San Francisco!

2009-09-01T20:22:00.001-07:00

Many have been requesting pictures of my ever blossoming belly. Sorry the quality isn't better - I need to get some taken outside. However, this gives you an idea of how big I'm getting. I'm definitely feeling pregnant. Here are some of my "symptoms":

I itch all the time.
My little guy loves music. He starts a wiggle fest whenever I turn on music. It’s been fun to see how he reacts differently to different kinds of music - hymns vs. Michael Buble vs. Beethoven vs. James Taylor. The funniest part is that if I start to sing, he almost immediately stops.
Weird cravings? Just Slurpees and cornbread
Whereas it used to be fun to feel the little squirt squirm around in my belly, it's started to take on a slightly uncomfortable edge. It's not bad, but it's definitely not like it used to be.
Brent has to be ever patient with my emotional instability, and he does so.
I'm getting so excited to meet this little guy!

Life Lesson Learned

2009-08-22T18:12:00.000-07:00

Note to self: The absolute worst time to go shopping for office supplies is after work the Friday before school starts.

My burgeoning belly

2009-08-17T19:42:00.000-07:00

**Disclaimer: Sorry, I'm short on the pictures this time. We went to Arizona last weekend, and I have lots of pictures of everyone else, but you know how it is when you're the one behind the camera . . . not so many pictures of you get taken.

Someone asked how the baby was doing the other day. (Who am I kidding? I get this questions multiple times, daily). He's doing great. Per the doctor, we're right on track. He's just the right size. He's in the right position. Seven weeks to go until our due date. (Which means just over 3 weeks of work left . . . not that I'm counting).

My only complaint: no one told my that third trimester fatigue is not entirely unlike first trimester fatigue (read: I could fall asleep at a moment's notice unless it is the appointed hour for my body to fall asleep, at which point I'm bound to stay up, restless all night - which, again, may have something to do with the fatigue).

I tell you what, though, in the past two weeks, I feel like I've been watching my body change at an unprecedented rate. Seriously, it's like watching those nature shows where the plant goes from seedling to fruit-bearing in a matter of minutes instead of a matter of weeks. Our little guy is taking off. I feel like I can literally see the inches adding onto my middle. And I've taken to itching incessantly. I suppose those two things go hand in hand.

So, we're still waiting and watching in wonder as the miracle of life continues to unfold. I'm grateful for a patient husband who puts up with my pregnant irrationalities ("yes, we need to go to the store and get baby socks TONIGHT. We can't bring home our baby with bare feet!"), and the unsolicited waterworks. I wish I wasn't like that, but I am.

You say goodbye, and I say hello

2009-07-10T20:19:00.000-07:00

In the last several weeks, I've been surprised at the passing of so many. Not just people that everyone seems to know (i.e. celebrities), but even at the hospital I work at, we've had several people pass away.

The hardest loss for me lately has been the loss of a dear friend and lifelong companion, literally always there for me. But, I suppose that's part of life. As a woman's body grows and stretches to accommodate the new life within her, there comes a time when she must say goodbye to her inny belly button. I suppose it was foolish of me to fail to acknowledge the inevitability of this passing, but I considered my charming, perfect belly button to be above such injustice. Alas, 'tis not so. I saw the signs of impending doom, and I turned a blind eye - only to realize, I took it for granted.

In my time of mourning, I have found solace. I suppose the passing of one makes way for the entry of another. My brother and his wife welcomed a new darling girl to their family on June 22, 2009. I have yet to meet her, but she's a little sweetheart who already has her daddy wrapped around her finger. I love hearing about their transition - I hope it can prepare me for my own. Out of respect for the new parents' wishes, I won't post any pictures of the little angel (who thinks she's a star because she'd rather shine (read: play) all night long than sleep), but I don't think they would begrudge me this one that just makes my heart sing. Home truly can be a heaven on earth! Welcome to the family, Emma. We're so glad you're here!

Quote of the day . . .

2009-07-03T18:27:00.000-07:00

"Happiness is an attitude. We either make ourselves miserable, or happy. The amount of work is the same."

--Francesca Reigler

Re: Sleep

2009-06-16T21:31:00.000-07:00

I'm increasingly feeling like a chicken on a rotisserie spit, only my rotations are not as regular.

Marseilles Dress SHABBY APPLE GUEST GIVEAWAY!!!!

2009-06-11T16:43:00.000-07:00

Marseilles Dress SHABBY APPLE GUEST GIVEAWAY!!!!

I have fallen in love with the simple elegance of Shabby Apple dresses! I would love to win this dress!!

I just can't resist

2009-06-08T17:41:00.000-07:00

Creative Puns for Smart Minds (or, How I Love the Wordplay)

1. The roundest knight at King Arthur's Round Table was Sir Cumference. He acquired his size from too much pi.

2. I thought I saw an eye doctor on an Alaskan island, but it turned out to be an optical Aleutian.

3. She was only a whiskey maker, but he loved her still.

4. A rubber band pistol was confiscated in an algebra class because it was a weapon of math disruption.

5. The butcher backed into the meat grinder and got a little behind in his work.

6. No matter how much you push the envelope it'll still be stationery.

7. A dog gave birth to puppies near the road and was cited for littering.

8. A grenade thrown into a kitchen in France would result in Linoleum Blownapart.

9. Two silk worms had a race. They ended up in a tie.

10. Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.

11. A hole has been found in the nudist camp wall. The police are looking into it.

12. Atheism is a non-prophet organization.

13. Two hats were hanging on a hat rack in the hallway. One hat said to the other, "You stay here, I'll go on a head."

14. I wondered why the baseball kept getting bigger. Then it hit me.

15. A sign on the lawn at a drug rehab center said, "Keep off the Grass."

16. A small boy swallowed some coins and was taken to the hospital. When his grandmother telephoned to ask how he was, a nurse said, "No change yet."

17. A chicken crossing the road is poultry in motion.

18. The short fortune-teller who escaped from prison was a small medium at large.

19. The soldier who survived mustard gas and pepper spray is now a seasoned veteran.

20. A backward poet writes inverse.

21. In a democracy, it's your vote that counts. In feudalism, it's your count that votes.

22. When cannibals ate the missionary, they got a taste of religion.

23. Don't join dangerous cults, practice safe sects!

The happiest place on earth

2009-06-07T16:16:00.000-07:00

I was talking to a co-worker on Friday about weekend plans. When she asked what I was up to, I mentioned that my husband and I were planning to visit the Los Angeles Temple on Saturday. Having had a sister married there, she was familiar with the building.

"Oh, that's a beautiful place!," she exclaimed. I echoed her sentiments and told her I love the peace you can feel there, even on the grounds. You can hardly hear the city from there. "I know!," she said, "it's almost like Disneyland!"

At first, I was a little taken aback by her analogy. I hadn't thought of it like that, but I could see where she was coming from. From someone who has only been limited the grounds of one of the Mormon temples, I am honored that she would make such a comparison. Both are places apart from the world. Both are places that celebrate families and focus on happiness.

How grateful I am that we have access to lasting joy in this life! The temple truly is the happiest place on earth.

*Photo taken from here.

Snakes and snails and puppy dog tails

2009-06-06T11:28:00.000-07:00

It was one of those Saturdays where I had to work the morning shift and Brent had to work the closing shift - in other words, just another day of the week where we didn't see each other. Unfortunately, we have far too many of those.

Anyway, while I was at work, Brent had decided to go fishing with our brother-in-law. Unfortunately for Brent, fishing is a past-time I don't quite understand. I've only really been fishing once in my life. In sixth grade. Our teacher took small groups of us fishing toward the end of the year. Well, that year as class awards came around, instead of "most helpful" or "most optimistic" I was awarded the "fishless" award. I was the only person in class to have not caught a fish.

It's not like I've avoided fishing since then, but I haven't eagerly sought out opportunities to sit on a river's edge and feel like a failure again. I was grateful to Tydus for taking Brent.

That night as I was tidying up the house to get it ready for Sunday, I was greeted by a dragonfly on my kitchen wall. The only body of water near our apartment is a highly-chlorinated swimming pool, and I doubted that this little guy had come from there.

When Brent got home, I showed him our new friend and expressed my concern about his origins. I just couldn't figure out where he'd come from. Much to my surprise, Brent exclaimed, "I missed it!" Confused, I asked him to explain.

Turns out, he'd seen the cocoon on a twig at the river that morning and brought it home to watch it hatch. It's endearing moments like that that make me realize I'm glad we never have to completely "grow up."

Developments

2009-05-26T19:59:00.001-07:00

This post may be a little picture-ful. I'd apologize, but I'm not really that sorry! I know that if I were to update more regularly, I wouldn't get stuck with a post full of pictures like that, but well, it happens, right?

First up: Mother's Day. This year was my first to celebrate mother's day as a mother-to-be. It was quite the paradigm shift for me. I like the new layering to my relationship with my own mother - almost a sisterhood. I hope this title of "mother" is one that I can grow into. As of now, I feel grossly inadequate.

My wonderful husband got me a colorful bunch of tulips for Mother's Day. I love tulips - they are happy flowers. Unfortunately, they don't stay happy in temperatures like we have had this month, but they brought joy to our table for several days!

I went to the high school choir concert last week to support a good number of my laurel class. They sounded wonderful! It made me miss my days of singing with others - I miss having music in my life like that.

I wasn't the only one to enjoy the music. For the first time, I felt the stirrings of life in my womb. The louder the music got, the more that little baby moved. I was so awestruck, it was as if I didn't even hear the music I was focusing so intently on the small sensation that I wasn't sure I hadn't imagined. A magical experience!

Jessica

Me & Amber

Amber & Macy

The bump (at 20 weeks)

Today was a monumental day. Today was the first day I've had to use a rubber-band because I could not button my pants. Initially, I had to remind myself that it was a good thing - this burgeoning of life. It's not that I'm just gaining weight and shape. My body is working in overdrive to create a new earthly home for a choice spirit to inhabit. It's an honor!

Baby bump at 21 weeks (sorry, I had to take this one by myself since Brent and I are rarely home for two minutes together, but you get the idea)

Bump appears different from different angles, but it's there alright!

Ultrasound pictures at last! The still frames really do not capture the incredible experience of seeing your baby alive and moving. It's an overwhelming experience.

This first one is when baby is about 13 weeks old.

The next pictures are from our 20 week ultrasound. I was floored by what they could actually see. A four-chambered heart, kidneys, spine, developing brain. Because I hadn't really felt any movement yet when these were taken, it was a relief to me to see someone moving in there. I had been worried!

Here are baby's feet. The ultrasound technician said they look like big feet already. Oh dear! What have I gotten myself into?

Here you can see the shape of baby's face. It's amazing to me that there are already teeth forming in the skull.

Baby was playing with it's feet. Here you can see the little arm reaching up to grab corresponding little toes. So sweet!

Baby was so cooperative for all the shots. The technician was excited because they don't always cooperate. I think the tech got a picture of every structure she needed to see. It was the first time I was proud of my little one.

Baby was so cooperative that we even got to learn the gender of our baby. Are you ready? It's a boy! He wasn't as good about holding still for those pictures, but she did get a definitive shot of him. Brent was so convinced that we were having a girl, that I loved the look of shock on his face as he absorbed that information. My first thought was, "alright, mission prep it is!" We are both thrilled to have this little guy be joining our family in just a few short months. (I say short because the last 5 have flown by). Now to prepare for his arrival . . . and pick a name. We have favorites, but I have the feeling we'll have to see him before we can decide who he is.

Morro Bay

2009-05-16T19:31:00.000-07:00

Last weekend, I had the incredible opportunity to camp and hike and play with some of the fabulous young women in my ward. We went to Morro Bay, near San Luis Obispo. I had never been to Morro Bay before. It was absolutely beautiful, and I cannot wait to return!

I loved being with the girls. I loved sleeping near the roar of the ocean (we were far enough away that it was just a low thrum, but you could feel it). I loved seeing so many different types of trees and animals. Apparently, the eucalyptus that are one of the most prevalent features of that area are not indigenous. To see huge California Condors in flight was an awesome experience. I don't think I've ever been quite that close to such an impressive wingspan. Another highlight was picking weeds for the wonderful brother who brought our gear up to his beach house for us. We'd have slept in the open on the cold ground without his gracious assistance. Weed-picking was the least we could do to say thank you.

The following are just a few of the many pictures. I somehow failed to get any of me. Sorry! But, you can see what a great time we had. The pictures aren't exactly in chronological order, sorry!

All smiles!

The whole crew

The beautiful waterfall and pool we found on our hike.

Our fearless leader

The gorgeous mountains we hiked through. Honestly, this picture doesn't even begin to show how dense the foliage is here. (Watch out for poison oak!)

Sam was so proud to have caught this little guy. Approximately 3 seconds after this picture was taken, the lizard proceeded to jump at my face, resulting in the screams of the surrounding 7 girls.

Morro Rock, the volcanic plug that is the outstanding feature of Morro Bay.

Happy to be going home? I think they were just happy to know that they would be getting their electronic devices (phones, ipods, etc.) back soon.

The fairy pond.

A love a happy group in the morning

We got a little silly.

Our campground. The ocean was literally steps away from here. Several dozen steps, perhaps, but steps nonetheless.

Conservative spending = conservative trending

2009-05-15T21:29:00.001-07:00

I heard the most interesting report on the radio today. Apparently the new trend in clothing, at least nationally, is modesty. I was taken off-guard by this, and thus I failed to take proper note of all the details. The story explained, basically that the old adage is at play once again: "Hemlines rise and fall with the stock market."

This is one adage I'd never heard before, but I can see the trend. The booming times of the 20's and the 60's were notorious for shorter skirts. In the recent times of prosperity, I have been shocked to see shirts get lower, skirts and shorts get shorter, and in general everything has gotten tighter.

The report indicated that has people become more conservative in their spending, they don't try to stick to the seasonal trend as much, favoring clothes that will last longer and be more versatile. In times of tight economy, people tend to favor comfort clothes over the skimpy, trendy look. Apparently skin isn't always in.

A shift

2009-05-12T20:38:00.000-07:00

Gravity has shifted.

Not gravity in the sense of the moon and the tides - more like my personal center of gravity has shifted, and is now forever altered.

Physically, my center feels lower. There's definitely a noticeable bulge in the region of my lower abdomen. I feel a new but not unpleasant pressure there if I lay on my stomach - that is what gave the shift away. It changed overnight. I'd had a small "baby bump" there for a while but not enough for the average bystander to suspect a reason for my weight gain (read: "spare tire").

Emotionally, I'm noticing a smaller, subtler, yet definite shift. My hands wander to my abdomen (and with them, my thoughts) - as if to occasionally reassure us both. I'm beginning to think more about this new little person my body is busily preparing an earthly home for. What will this person look like? What kind of personality will he/she have? My questions are quickly becoming numberless.

All the while, I hope I can be a good mother. I'm feeling an intellectual and a spiritual shift in my world as I try to prepare myself for, what I'm sure is going to be a hands-on training experience. I haven't seen the Mom manual in the mail yet, so hands-on is all it could be.

I'm realizing that no aspect of my life is left untouched. It's as if I am no longer the center but have started to orbit like the moon. I'm sure this is just the beginning, but I like where this is going.

It's a toss-up

2009-05-03T18:57:00.000-07:00

My brother had an interesting epiphany the other day. Of all my cousins who have children, there has been a little pattern. My guy cousins have had daughters first, and my girl cousins have all had sons first. Even my brother and his lovely wife are having a daughter first (coming June 2009). To this pattern, there has only been one deviation (one out of ten . . . )

So, while my husband is convinced that we’re having a girl, it’s looking like there’s a high probability I’ll be having a son first. I guess we’ll find out in about 2 weeks.

In the meantime, this has been a fun new toy.

Please Don't Take This The Wrong Way

2009-04-29T21:27:00.000-07:00

This really made me laugh today. Enjoy!

It was once said that a black man would be president. "When pigs fly", indeed 100 days into Obama's presidency.........Swine flu.

Words To Live By

2009-04-28T19:45:00.000-07:00

"I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read in the train." - Gwendolyn (Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Ernest)

Sunday's lesson for the young women was about maintaining our personal records. This lesson always excites me because this is something I'm passionate about. There are so many ways to keep personal records. Journals (written and audio), letters & emails, blogs, essays, scrapbooks - the possibilities are endless. I never have liked scrapbooking because it feels like a project that never ends. There are always more pictures to catalog and more supplies to purchase. Journaling works best for me, however, to each his own.

Since I was teaching the lesson, I took the opportunity to peruse through my volumes. I've been a mostly diligent journaler since 1995. Of course, my early attempts are rather indicative of my age, but I consider some of those entries to truly be gems. Here's one from 10 years ago:

Today I was playing a trivia game with [my brother Marc]. His question was "what are the five senses?" In all seriousness, Marc answered, "The sense of touch, the sense of taste, the sense of humor . . . "

Just a glimpse at the workings of my family. I think "sense of humor" should be added as the sixth sense.

It was interesting for me to read through and see what has been important to me over the years, to see what has influenced my decisions and my personality, and to see how I have grown. I reviewed moments that made me smile, moments that made me grimace, moments that filled me with chagrin, and moments that brought me closer to God.

I love the happy stories, the insights into my family, and seeing how my testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ has grown. I treasure the writings from my predecessors. Sometimes I'm more like them than I like to admit. And ultimately, the things that were most important to them - like family and faith - are most important to me too.

I left Sunday feeling a firmer resolve to write more frequently. And to write better.

Further spiritual enlightenment here.

And I'll Sing Once More

2009-04-26T16:47:00.000-07:00

I splurged yesterday. I was at Costco to re-stock some key elements of our food storage, and it caught my eye. I knew it was going to be an impulse buy, but I had to give in. Since Brent was working, I did go clear the purchase with him. We've been trying to be smart with our money (read: frugal), but I just couldn't resist this buy.

I bought my own copy of The Sound of Music. It has long been a favorite musical of mine. I remember borrowing Grandma's two-tape copy (back in the days of VHS), and watching and singing along. I always wanted a dress just like Liesel's from the "Sixteen Going On Seventeen" scene. Gorgeous countryside. Timeless music. Julie Andrews. It's a classic.

A classic that my husband has never seen before. This must be remedied! I'm so sad for him to have a childhood - no a lifetime devoid of the music of Rogers & Hammerstein. Throughout the whole drive home, snippets of various songs played in my head causing hours of smiles. Brent doesn't understand why yet, but he will.

The very first musical I ever was a part of was my elementary school production of The Sound of Music. I played the part of Brigitta. I fell in love with the whole experience. I don't know if we sounded any good, but I loved being a part of it. I enjoyed being a part of several stage productions of various musicals after that. Musicals are definitely one of my favorite things.

One of my favorite stories was told to me by a neighbor and friend from Arizona. She and her family were on a road-trip. As they were driving, they noticed that they were going to pass a car full of nuns. Their youngest son, who was probably about 4 years-old at the time, rolled down his window and signaled the car of nuns to do the same. Perplexed, his family watched as the nuns rolled their window down. Then, this innocent little boy leaned out the window and yelled, "How DO you solve a problem like Maria?" The question makes me smile every time I think about it.

Enough talk, I'm going to indulge my whim. And I'm going to sing along!

Cravings

2009-04-08T19:22:00.000-07:00

While the following may not be food cravings, they nevertheless rest in the same place of longing in my soul as a good hankering for tasty food. There are two things that have been tantalizing the edges of my thoughts for the past few days. I find myself dreaming about these things. They creep up behind me during my workday, and beat me over the head leaving me dazed and feeling empty.

What has been afflicting me so? It's completely irrational, I know that. I feel like pregnancy gives me a little wiggle room for irrationality.

First, I want to go to DIsneyland. I've only been once to the happiest place on earth. Two years ago I went with my whole family (save Devon who was serving as a missionary in Idaho at the time). It was heavenly. I want to go back there. Tomorrow.

Second, I wish it was Christmas. I've been singing carols all week. And smelling cinnamon. I know that there are places in the world still receiving snow. I can't tell you the last time I saw snow . . . maybe last year? But I'm craving a chill in the weather. And warm, baked goods. And family - lots of family.

Maybe I'm just wanting family close and people pulling together in a spirit of harmony and love. Either way, I know I'm not going to fill either calling any time soon. A girl can dream . . .

I've been remiss . . .

2009-04-07T20:01:00.000-07:00

It's been a busy month, and I haven't been very good about keeping up here. Sorry! I made a list of the "catching up" items, but "there is too much, let me sum up."

one trip to Mesa for my brother-in-law's wedding (we love you John & Chantel!)
living and breathing the heavenly scent of orange blossoms (I miss Arizona in March for this very reason)
My brother, Marc turned 18! (Welcome to adulthood, brother! You're amazing!)
I'm still tired all the time (literally, I can take a 2 hour nap and still go to bed by 9:30) Brent has been so understanding and patient with me, and I'm so grateful!
Settlers of Catan has become the favorite game of the Hill household. We've had lots of friends over and we love it!
We had our first ultrasound. Brent feels like it's real now. We're actually having a baby, and it's developing right on schedule. The doctor even moved the due date up a week (10/07/09) Sorry, my scanner's not working, so it's going to be a while before I get that picture up here. Be patient with me, please. I'd just take a picture of the picture, but we're missing a transfer cable too . . . Apparently I'm technologically challenged at the moment.
Brent and I want new neighbors. The current ones smoke like a chimney. And they don't just smoke tobacco. Yeah.
My appetite is back. The only trouble now is that nothing sounds good. Pretty much ever. Unless it's something that's terrible for me due to the inevitable accompanying heartburn (like tomatoes or anything cooked in the slightest amount of grease).

In other news, I loved General Conference. It was such a boost for me. It somehow always comes at the best time (meaning the time when I'm feeling the most stale and stagnant). The counsel given was so timely. From Robert D. Hales' talk about provident living to D. Todd Christofferson's talk about being strong Christians to the talks about the temple, I feel richly fed. Of course, I feel like there are so many areas for improvement in my life, but I feel hopeful about it too.

It's interesting that I can feel simultaneously completely inadequate and yet hopeful. I guess it's that I recognize that I'm far from perfect, but I have the assurance that I'm on the best path for me at this time. I'm hopeful because I'm not alone on this path - I have some help. I have so much to learn, but I'm excited to learn it!

Magic Moment

2009-03-11T20:51:00.000-07:00

I had my first doctor's visit yesterday evening. My appointment was scheduled for 4:00 so that Brent could be there. Unfortunately, since I was the last appointment of the day, the doctor was running a bit late. Thus, Brent had to leave for class by the time it was my turn.

After the preliminaries, I got to meet my doctor. He came highly recommended, and I must say that after just 1 visit, I felt completely at ease. This is turning into a wonderful adventure.

The best part: I got to hear a heartbeat! The doctor said that since it was still pretty early, he wasn't sure if he'd find anything, but he did. I don't know which of us was more excited, me or the doctor. It was a wonderful moment, to realize that the miracle of growing life is happening within my body. The fact that my body can sustain that little being is amazing. Yeah, I'm tired all the time and I think I may have a permanent hole in my esophagus due to the heartburn, but it's an adventure and an honor. I'm looking forward to witnessing the new miracles to come!

Developing Empathy

2009-03-07T14:15:00.000-08:00

One of my fondest childhood memories comes more in a montage than a single instance. Every summer, we looked forward to camping in Northern Arizona, usually with cousins. Now that I am older and have organized a few of these things myself, I recognize the tremendous amount of planning and work that goes into a camping trip (probably not as great when it's a regular occurrence, but still substantial).

In my childhood, though, it was a chance for adventure and freedom. With my brothers and cousins, I enjoyed exploring, discovering, and imagining. One of my favorite memories from our camping trips is always reflecting on the time spent around the campfire. Dinner, singing, story telling - I loved it all. Unfortunately, my dear cousin Dani was always out with the sun. I don't know how much of the campfire experience she remembers because she was notorious for falling asleep as soon as the sun went down.

I completely understand how she feels now. Since becoming pregnant, I now know exactly what it's like to not be able to keep my eyes open once the sun goes down. It's usually all I can do once I get home to land myself on the couch and not move for the next couple of hours until I crawl into bed.

Dani, I feel ya!

The World Must Be Peopled! (or, "It's Not So Easy Being Green")

2009-03-01T18:32:00.000-08:00

I can't trust my sense of smell anymore, I'm tired all the time, and my diet now consists almost solely of saltines, applesauce, and Gatorade . . . yes the classic symptoms do indicate what you're thinking. We're expecting! (Not so much as you'd notice yet, but that will come).

I've been sick enough that we couldn't really keep it quiet anymore. I'm only about 7 weeks along, but I wanted you to hear it from me. I haven't been neglecting the blog on purpose - I just haven't had the energy to possibly think about typing by the time I get home from work.

As for now, I'm happy to say that I am still able to work. I haven't been so queasy that that is impossible. I just have to be careful about what I eat. And I have to eat at least every two hours. It's a learning process, for sure, but we're figuring it out. Brent has been an angel and has been very patient with me in my current state. I certainly couldn't do this without him.

While feeling simultaneously thrilled and slightly overwhelmed at this new, life-changing responsibilty, Brent and I have been doing our best to plan ahead. We see a snag already. Currently our mattress resides on the floor. No problem for now, however, in a few month's time I am going to have considerable more difficulty getting onto and off of said mattress. And so begins our quest.

We have several options. 1) Purchase box springs or foundations for the mattress. 2) Purchase a whole new bed set. Option number 2 looks most appealing to me. According to my father I'm going to be uncomfortable anyway, so we might as well make me as comfortably uncomfortable as possible. However, we have, as they say, champagne taste on a beer budget. Beds are expensive, especially if you're getting one of any quality whatsoever. We could afford a new queen size bed. However, the other concern is that my husband is exceedingly tall, and I'm not exactly petite, myself. Thus, I wonder about the logistics of the two of us fitting on a queen sized bed. We currently have a king size mattress. Oh, options, options.

Being the frugal-minded person I am, I would push for new foundations . . . we can save for a new bed later. Brent says he would rather have me be comfortable. We'll see what we decide. There are just so many ways to spend the money we do make that sometimes it's hard to know what is the best decision.

I know this is getting to be one of those epistle-length posts, but I felt so clever yesterday, that I just had to share. We went to a local mattress factory yesterday (to research our options for the aforementioned problem). The owner gave us the run-down on everything and told us that they actually make the beds right there.

Me, being my cheeky self, said, "oh, so if we buy our mattress here, you'll teach us how to fold those hospital-tight corners? I've always wanted to learn how to do that!" To which he replied, "No, I don't make beds here . . . I make . . . beds . . . " and then promptly turned a lovely shade of red as he hastily explained that that was his wife's job. Oh, too funny. We all left laughing.

Craving

2009-02-23T19:41:00.000-08:00

One of the saddest things about having to actually pick a major in college was the fact that I could no longer fit in all of the extraneous courses that I loved. Slowly but surely, they were whittled out of my schedule.

I was saddest when I finally had to stop taking my music classes. I didn't major in music because it wasn't "practical" for me. But, music is still one of my greatest loves. I must admit, I'm saddened by the fact that I do not own a piano or a cello. I don't even have access to a cello anymore.

In the last few weeks, I've had several encounters with cellos and it's started a terrible hankering. I don't know why the deep, resonant voice of the cello resonates with me like it does, but I'm left in a mouth-watering stupor. Maybe again someday . . .

Fact

2009-02-02T19:35:00.000-08:00

When I was in the second grade, I had one aspiration. I wanted to become a weather teller on the news. And why did I want to predict the forecast? One reason and one reason alone. I wanted to tell the world (well, I thought one person told the whole world) whether or not the groundhog saw his shadow.

Supposedly this year, we're looking at six more weeks of winter. I'll believe it when I see it. The high today was 78.

My first thought this morning

2009-01-28T21:43:00.000-08:00

Once the haze left-over from dreamland had burned off, these words echoed in the back of my mind.

i thank You God for most this amazing

day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees

and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything

which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,

and this is the sun's birthday; this is the birth

day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay

great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing

breathing any -- lifted from the no

of allnothing -- human merely being

doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and

now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

- e.e. cummings

So, even though I have a head-cold and I feel like I'm suffocating (be it from the inversion or the stopped-up bronchials), I knew today couldn't be all that bad.

I guess my feet know where they want me to go

2009-01-26T20:18:00.000-08:00

So, yesterday Brent and I made a crock-pot full of stew to keep us eating healthy through the week. It's our favorite way to use our abundance of fresh vegetables.

I don't know what I did differently this time, maybe it was the cabbage . . . at any rate, I pulled the lid off the steaming crock-pot and I entered a memory. In that brief instance, I was transported to my great-grandfather's house in McGuireville, Arizona. I heard his homemade engines rhythmically working in the shop. I smelled the falling leaves from the huge trees outside, and I remembered visits with parents, siblings, cousins. In my memory, Grandpa always a big pot of stew or beans cooking slowly, waiting for us. I just hope it's something I can recreate again.

Rainy Days and Mondays

2009-01-25T21:57:00.000-08:00

Unlike the Carpenters, rainy days never get me down. I love a good rain. I could sit by the open window and just listen to the gentle patter all day. As the rain cleanses the air and refreshes the land, I feel my soul being cleansed and refreshed. In my current residence, rain is more scarce than even the desert I grew up in. My husband laughs that I get so worked up about water falling from the sky.

Because I live in a valley and we get all the bad air from the surrounding big cities and the big farms (which contribute a surprising amount to the smog), there are weeks where I live in perpetual haze. It's like a film covers everything, including your lungs. Once the rain knocks the oil and dust out of the air, though, you can literally see the difference. When the air is clean, you can actually see the mountains that are only about 20 miles away. (This may sound like a joke, but I kid not. I count it a good day when I can see those mountains). Living here has really made me appreciate clean air all the more.

I wish I could say that Mondays don't get me down, but that would be lying. Especially after working 9 hours on Saturday (when it was raining and windy and blissful outside and I had to miss it), I just feel like I haven't rested up enough to face another workweek. And yet, I'm so grateful that I have another workweek to face. One thing that has made this Sunday glorious is that I've had time to actually spend with my husband. Because we're on different schedules (as in, I work from 8-4:30 or so and he's in school during the day and working in the evening), it's been about 4 days since we've actually talked for more than 5 minutes over the phone on the lunch break. I missed him.

We spent a lovely afternoon baking and making a stew to last us the week. I love working in the kitchen with him. It's time to talk, to connect, and to work together. It's been such a blessing that thus far he hasn't had to work on Sundays this semester. It makes all the difference in the world. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a book and a cup of licorice tea waiting for me by the open window . . .

Elvis Has Left The Building

2009-01-20T17:30:00.001-08:00

Sometime in April of 2007, this car showed up at my apartment complex. It sat in front of the manager's office for 2 days or so until a lovely little ticket appeared on its windshield. Then, it somehow managed to move itself over to the area where I park my car. And it sat. For at least 8 months. And never moved.

Normally, you would hardly notice if a car moved or not, but this one was hard to ignore. I've watched it collect dust, and leak oil, and almost rust before my eyes. I thought it surprising that such an individual car wouldn't budge for so long. Especially since it had a car-seat inside, and a little backpack, and little girl shoes.

So, today when I got home from work and saw only a large oil spot and dusty tire tracks leading away from where that car stood. It doesn't look like the car went willingly.To tell you the truth, I almost missed it. Almost.

You can see why:

Talk about your fixer-upper. Words cannot describe the hideousness of this car. I don't know where it's gone to, but I say good riddance. Thank you for leaving, Car. Thank you very much.

You don't talk back to a rooster

2009-01-18T17:54:00.000-08:00

I've never considered myself a night-owl. Once 10:00 PM hits, I'm usually a goner. I had roommates get a kick out of this. It's not like I just get tired, it's like I lose the ability to function and will fall asleep where I am, regardless of the surrounding commotion. I've been known to just drift out of conversation when it gets too late. Brent says he can tell when it's after 10:30 or 11:00 because I get cheeky, but most of the time I just can't help it. The coach may turn into a pumpkin at midnight, but my filters turn off by 11. Brent's getting to the point where he can tell when I'm not being serious and I just need to go to bed. Usually.

Conversely, an ounce of morning is worth a pound of afternoon. It always has been for me and it always will be. I'm a morning person. That's my productive time, and I'm happiest tackling my to-do list before 1:00 PM. True, it's as hard for me to get out of bed some mornings as would a "normal human being" (Brent's words, not mine), but once I'm up, I can usually get going in no time.

My dear, sweet husband is not a morning person at all. I was worried about this initially. How could we ever function together? It's been an adjustment, for sure. Brent's had to learn how to handle cheekiness and I've learned that I can't have a real conversation with Brent until about noon, and we get by okay.

That said, I dread the mornings when I have to wake Brent up to, say, get ready for church. This morning was no exception. I let him sleep as long as the clock would allow, and I gingerly laid down next to him about 8:15 and said, "Brent, love, it's time to get up for Church." And then, dear reader, he growled at me. I've never heard him so mad. He literally growled at me and then rolled over.

Not to be deterred (because I have this irrational fear of being late for anything), I gently stroked his hair and told him I was sorry and that it really was time to get up. He growled again, so I lovingly asked, "What's wrong, honey?"

To which he replied," Ugh, you ruined my game!"

"What?," I asked, bewildered.

"You just ruined my game!," says my suddenly petulant husband.

"I'm sorry, honey, but I just said it's time to get up so we can get ready for Church."

"No, you just said, 'no jumping,' and threw off my whole game!"

I had to stifle my laughter as I snuck out of the room to blow-dry my hair. I figured I'd try it again in a couple of minutes. Sure enough, after some more gentle prodding, Brent was up and getting ready for Church. We were only 5 minutes late.

In Brent's defense, we were up super late last night cleaning up after his sister's wedding reception. It was beautiful but a lot of work. I'm grateful for everyone who was good enough to stay until the job was done. Still, I guess I'll leave the alarm clock to the job of waking up my husband.