It's so refreshing, once in a while, when I do my daily news reading on the Internet in the morning, just before Malia wakes up, to find stories like this. They're not always in there, but when they are, they warm my heart.
Not only is this man adorable, but he truly understands the concept of making life's lemons into sweet lemonade, and then giving it away for free. I've had it with people who have never even left the country having such strong, bitter opinions about some things. This man has been "there" & back and knows what "it" means. God Bless him.
Showing posts with label random. Show all posts
Showing posts with label random. Show all posts
19 September 2008
17 September 2008
Dear Malia...
Dear Lili-bug,
Today you used the potty! The joy that this brought to the depths of my soul was shocking. I've heard from other mothers that this would be the case... and I know the road doesn't end here (you are FAR! from "potty-trained"... once does not a new trick make), but this is quite an accomplishment, especially for you. From birth, your digestive system has not been your best friend. Pooping is something that has always been difficult for you (and I can just picture your beautiful face glowing with embarrassment as you read this 10 years from now). Because of this, our attempts at beginning the potty-training process have all failed. You are almost scared of it.
We've purchased a little seat to make that big hole not seem so daunting. It even has little yellow duckies on it and bubbles that glow-in-the-dark. We've purchased a hot pink step-stool to make it so that your feet have somewhere to plant themselves and not dangle in the abyss. There is even a large jar of bribery M&Ms sitting right next to the toilet (which I'm sure has been the cause of great confusion of any recent guests). I've promised you dance lessons, which you've been asking for daily, once you master this crucial step into being socially acceptable. You have a "potty" in your own room that sings songs to you, lights up, and praises and applauds you when you push the flusher. None of these things have made using the potty appealing to you.
However, today, you were standing in the shower, playing with your toys as I got dressed when, out-of-nowhere, I heard the most magnificent 7 words ever. "Mommy! I need to use the toilet!" After pinching myself, I ran to your aid to see your soaking little nekkid body in the shower with your hand covering your little places and a look of concern on your face. I hoisted you up as quickly as my bulging belly would allow and set you on the toilet. And there, Niagara occurred! The joy that tinkling sound caused in my heart was insurpassable. All of this without any of those gimmicks we've spent far too much money on! After I helped you wipe, flush, & wash your hands, I gave you 2 M&Ms and a big hug. I told you how proud I was and the grin on your face was priceless. It was almost as if you were more proud for making me proud than I was of you. These are the moments that make the bond of a mother & child unbreakable... until you're 15 and hate me.
On Sunday, your father had a Priesthood meeting, and to pass the time, you & I took a walk. The moon was out and full and looked larger than usual. As we walked, hand-in-hand, you shouted with excitement, "Look at the moon, Mommy! It's so BLUE-tiful!" You made this statement at least a dozen times throughout our walk, with each time full of as much vigor as the last. It was inspiring to me. The simple things. You appreciate them in a way I've forgotten how. Thanks for the reminder, kiddo. I'm learning a lot from you.
You also were convinced that the moon is a living, breathing friend of yours. You shouted out to it, "C'mon, moon. Wanna' hang out with us?! It be fun!" I had to explain to you that the moon had an obligation to light up the night sky and that maybe it would play with you later. I am finding my poor excuses are working less as you get smarter, as you woke up the next morning and asked me, "Will the moon hang out with us today?" I just smiled. I was too tired to have a clever explanation.
Whenever we are in the car, you ask me over & over, "What're you gonna' DO today, Mama? A' gonna' DO today?" I usually tell you, but it doesn't stifle the questioning. Five minutes later, you ask again. The only time my answer seems to suffice enough for you to stop asking is when the answer pleases you. "We're going to play at Disneyland, Malia." "Yes. We are!" And then a lovely, peaceful quiet the rest of the way... until we pull into the parking structure, which usually then elicits run-on, yet somehow incomplete, sentences about which rides you intend to go on. You've definitely inherited that ability from me. You begin to speak, but it's as if your mouth is going faster than your brain, and you say the first few words to your sentence about 1/2 a dozen times before you figure out what it is you were trying to say. Sometimes you get distracted by another thought and your sentence detours in that direction. It drives your father nuts as he now lives with 2 women he can't communicate with.
I've noticed lately that most children your age are not very obedient. You are, and I am blissfully aware and grateful for this. When we are out & about, I will hear a parent shout demands and warnings to their children multiple times as the child completely ignores them and continues on their merry way. Not only do my commands usually immediately stop you in your place, but if you didn't hear what I said, you will turn to me, squint one eye, and pull up the corner of your mouth on that same side, which gives you a very adult-like perplexed expression, and say, "Wha' you saying, Mama?" Then I am given the chance to repeat myself and you obey. Honestly, could it get any easier?
Whenever I make a little noise and grab my belly in reaction to being kicked by your future (and incredibly powerful) little sister you will say to me, "Your belly hurts, Mama? 'ecause baby sister is kicking your belly. Be nice, baby sister!" I know the day will come when the 2 of you will be in cahoots against me, so for now, I appreciate your concern more than you know.Love, Mommy
12 September 2008
Ok, seriously? This kid.
This video was posted on my family's private blog. It was taken by my little sister, Tina, at my sister Cindy's wedding reception this last August. She does these faces on command. There are actually a few more, but I wasn't around to call them out and Tina was just going by what she'd remembered she'd seen. This kid, I tell you... is a HAM!
P.S. If you're wondering, that is a piece of gum in her mouth.
P.S. If you're wondering, that is a piece of gum in her mouth.
19 August 2008
Tagged
Here are the rules:
1. Link to the person who tagged you. (Mindy)
2. Post the rules on your blog.
3. Write six random things about yourself.
4. Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.
5. Let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.
6. Let your tagger know when your entry is up.
*I have a sometimes immobilizing fear of the dark. It didn't show up until I was about 11 years old when my sister came home from a Young Women's Mutual Activity and proceeded to tell me a story that the YW President had told the girls about an experience with... not nice things... at night. I'm not afraid of murderers, rapists, burglars, etc. But I have literally become paralyzed at times with fear when I allow my imagination to wander into other-worldly evilness. Even still, if it's nighttime and I am up by myself, I will run up the stairs in an alarmingly explosive rate and, no matter how hot it is, I must have some sort of covers up to my chin... as if that'll protect me. Becoming a mommy helped a little as I've become more capable of fearlessly traversing dark hallways to check on my child... but when given just a second to think about other things, I freak out like a psychopath.
*I can be either really efficient or really lazy. I have no middle ground. I have been known to get going on things and not stop to the point of being almost OCD. Or, if I feel like putting things off, I will accomplish absolutely nothing. Example: a couple of days ago I was looking at the future nursery of baby #2 and decided to start doing some organizing. I ended up doing chores around the house for a good 3 hours straight after that and my poor little pregnant body has been suffering ever since. Today? Stared at the computer looking at nothing specific for the entirety of Malia's nap, even though laundry & dishes could use some doing. Baffling.
*From age, oh, probably about 10 until I moved out at 18, I put mini-musicals on in the privacy of my bedroom. I would, literally, rummage through my closet for costumes and actually go through the process of styling my hair and make-up to look like the character and then I would blast a Broadway CD, and lip-sync (yes - even though I sing, I actually lip-synced... hey! I didn't want anyone to know what I was doing)! Sometimes my sisters would walk in on me and laugh. I actually did CATS once... with full-on make-up. I actually brought myself to tears a few times while putting on "Ragtime." I would do the same with my Barbies. My sister Cindy laughs when I tell her how I used to get nervous that she would come in while my nightie-bedecked Barbie sang "Lost & Found" from the musical "City of Angels." Good times.
*I can actually be painfully shy. I swear. Most people have erased any possible memory of me as such because of following experiences of me without seemingly any inhibitions... but if people could truly, actually remember our first encounters, they'd probably realize this is a complete truth. I make David introduce me more frequently than I am willing to do so myself. Honest.
*Sometimes I worry more about whether or not Malia will have a uni-brow or be somewhat obese or have terrible acne than I do about whether or not she will live a gospel-centered life. I don't know why that is. Maybe because I have a false confidence that I will have more control over her agency than her looks? Maybe because I never personally struggled in the testimony department but always felt lacking in the looks department? I'm assuming these fears will shift when she is older and I am forced more so to face them.
*I desperately crave chocolate more on Sundays than any other day. No lie. I think it's because I find that we never seem to have any in the house on Sundays, and darn it! I can't go buy any!
I tag:
Tina
Celeste
Laurel
Jean
Abby
Chrissy
1. Link to the person who tagged you. (Mindy)
2. Post the rules on your blog.
3. Write six random things about yourself.
4. Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.
5. Let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.
6. Let your tagger know when your entry is up.
*I have a sometimes immobilizing fear of the dark. It didn't show up until I was about 11 years old when my sister came home from a Young Women's Mutual Activity and proceeded to tell me a story that the YW President had told the girls about an experience with... not nice things... at night. I'm not afraid of murderers, rapists, burglars, etc. But I have literally become paralyzed at times with fear when I allow my imagination to wander into other-worldly evilness. Even still, if it's nighttime and I am up by myself, I will run up the stairs in an alarmingly explosive rate and, no matter how hot it is, I must have some sort of covers up to my chin... as if that'll protect me. Becoming a mommy helped a little as I've become more capable of fearlessly traversing dark hallways to check on my child... but when given just a second to think about other things, I freak out like a psychopath.
*I can be either really efficient or really lazy. I have no middle ground. I have been known to get going on things and not stop to the point of being almost OCD. Or, if I feel like putting things off, I will accomplish absolutely nothing. Example: a couple of days ago I was looking at the future nursery of baby #2 and decided to start doing some organizing. I ended up doing chores around the house for a good 3 hours straight after that and my poor little pregnant body has been suffering ever since. Today? Stared at the computer looking at nothing specific for the entirety of Malia's nap, even though laundry & dishes could use some doing. Baffling.
*From age, oh, probably about 10 until I moved out at 18, I put mini-musicals on in the privacy of my bedroom. I would, literally, rummage through my closet for costumes and actually go through the process of styling my hair and make-up to look like the character and then I would blast a Broadway CD, and lip-sync (yes - even though I sing, I actually lip-synced... hey! I didn't want anyone to know what I was doing)! Sometimes my sisters would walk in on me and laugh. I actually did CATS once... with full-on make-up. I actually brought myself to tears a few times while putting on "Ragtime." I would do the same with my Barbies. My sister Cindy laughs when I tell her how I used to get nervous that she would come in while my nightie-bedecked Barbie sang "Lost & Found" from the musical "City of Angels." Good times.
*I can actually be painfully shy. I swear. Most people have erased any possible memory of me as such because of following experiences of me without seemingly any inhibitions... but if people could truly, actually remember our first encounters, they'd probably realize this is a complete truth. I make David introduce me more frequently than I am willing to do so myself. Honest.
*Sometimes I worry more about whether or not Malia will have a uni-brow or be somewhat obese or have terrible acne than I do about whether or not she will live a gospel-centered life. I don't know why that is. Maybe because I have a false confidence that I will have more control over her agency than her looks? Maybe because I never personally struggled in the testimony department but always felt lacking in the looks department? I'm assuming these fears will shift when she is older and I am forced more so to face them.
*I desperately crave chocolate more on Sundays than any other day. No lie. I think it's because I find that we never seem to have any in the house on Sundays, and darn it! I can't go buy any!
I tag:
Tina
Celeste
Laurel
Jean
Abby
Chrissy
13 August 2008
I'm a Proud Mama... whatuvit?!
I had some pictures here & there of Malia that I was organizing through on my computer and I just wanted to share. There's no rhyme or reason to them other than that I feel like I have the most beautiful, amazing child ever! And while I do have a multitude of blessings, she is, by far, one of the greatest.
Last Easter, Malia received a very large package from her Grandpa filled with toys and candy... guess which part she liked the best?
Malia makes faces "on demand." I swear, it's true. The one above is her "sad face." She never holds the others long enough for me to get a good picture of them. One of these days....
The messier, the better it tastes, right?
Malia wanted to help me find our way through Disneyland... although, we've been there enough. She just likes to always take a map. /shrug
Malia at lunch at Downtown Disney after seeing her first movie, Wall*E, in the theatres. This is her response to, "Did you like the movie?" She's a total ham; I love it.
Playing "Pirates" with Grandma at Red Robin. She makes this face and says "Arrrrrrrrrrr!" Although, she struggles with the letter R, so the sound coming out is more like, "Awwwwwwwwww."
Trying on Daddy's "silly hat" from Japan."...while few human challenges are greater than that of being good parents, few opportunities offer greater potential for joy”
*President James E. Faust*
12 August 2008
Vote for Me!
So, I didn't realize that they were doing this, but I guess they'll also be having a "fan favorite" for this Wicked competition dealy-o I'm in. I don't now too much about the details... just that voting is on the 13th... er, something. I stumbled across it when an old teacher of mine e-mailed it to me.
So, maybe check back at that website on the 13th (tomorrow)? I figure that winning the whole competition may be difficult what with me being all engorged with pregnancy and stuff. So maybe if I could get this as a consolation prize, it'll make me feel ok. At the LIVE competition, I had the fewest people screaming for me as most of my competitors had brought their entire hometowns - or so it seemed. The contest itself isn't a popularity contest, thank heavens (I just brought my husband and Malia and my friend Jean showed up cause she rocks).
Anywho - maybe go to the website tomorrow and check out the situation. (and vote for me even though I just said, "Anywho").
25 July 2008
Guilty Confessions
Ok, so there are a few things in my life that I really think I should probably work on a little. These aren't spiritual sins or legal matters (those are personal) :). They're more "silly," so I figured that my blog might be a good way to get them out into the universe so that maybe I would begin to find the willpower to change these things.
*Washing Towels
I really should be better about this. I am pretty sure my mom washed towels at least once a week when I was a kid. But, for some reason, I don't even think about it until a good 2-3 weeks go by and they start to smell funny. I know that sounds absolutely disgusting, and my home is fairly clean... fairly. AND, we have our OWN washer & dryer which I picked out myself and absolutely LOVE. But me and washing towels just hardly ever happens. Well, me & laundry in general. I just don't love doing it. I need to work on that.
*Target
This store is the bane of my existence. I can NOT go into this place without buying something. We have one just kitty-corner from our home and it is a big problem. Sometimes, when I'm trying to think of something to do to entertain Malia, we decide to take a walk... to Target. We're supposed to be on a budget here! But I can't exit the store without purchasing, at the very least, a pack of gum. And even though the merchandise probably stays the same weeks at a time, I still find myself strolling through the home decor and clothing aisles at least once a week. Must stop.
*Do we put Malia in commercials?
Ok, this isn't really a confession so much as a thought. David and I have been amazed since the day Malia was born at how many compliments the child gets on her looks alone. Who knew?! Not only that, but she also has more than enough personality to boot. She is an absolute ham (no clue where she got that...). She will say literally any phrase I tell her to say. She makes faces that associate with 1/2 a dozen emotions on cue. (I'll post pix later). We sometimes talk about putting her in commercials. But we never really get around to the first step. Plus, do I really want one of "those" kids?
*Speaking of Malia...
... she's onto me. I don't know what it is, but whenever I leave the room to shower or do a load of laundry or clean something up, she is content doing whatever I left her to do. But if I am naughty and decide to go browse the Internet for no-good-reason or go into the kitchen to sneak a snack or turn the TV on downstairs to get a peek at whatever trash is currently on, she desperately starts calling for me. She knows when I'm indulging into something I probably shouldn't, no matter how silently I do it. This is a guilty confession because I guess I shouldn't be doing those things... and she's my little Jiminy Cricket.
*Trashy Reality TV
I. am. addicted. And the trashier, the better. All of those disgusting "Celebrity Dating shows" on VH1 & MTV (Flavor of Love, Rock of Love, I Love New York, etc.)? Yep. Seen 'em all. All seasons. Could probably name all the winners. Sad.
*Making OCD lists
I am such a list maker. This isn't necessarily a bad thing. What's bad is that I NEVER actually use them! When I am preparing for something that overwhelms me a little, I sit down and make lists to calm me down and get myself organized. And then I never refer to it! Then I will run across the stupid thing a few days later and think, "Hm. I should've used this." Lame.
Ok, this next one is more a fear, and not really a confession, but I have to get it off my chest.
*I am scared out of my mind for this second baby!
I know the reason,too. Malia's colic was so severe and lasted for so painfully long and caused me so much heartache and spiritual depression that I have no concept of what it's like to actually enjoy a newborn. I know the odds that this one won't have colic are pretty good, and I obviously know what to do otherwise. But my brain has no understanding or concept of what a "normal" 1-6 month old is like. I know them as constantly screaming, never sleeping, nursing poorly, and driving me insane... quite literally. I'm just afraid to do that again, all while trying to raise a 3-year-old at the same time. AND David is working now, whereas, with Malia, he was in school, and I could call him home whenever I was feeling homicidal. I'm just nervous. I'm not great with the unexpected these days. I used to be a much more exciting and spontaneous person. *sigh*
Ok... that's it for now. Ahhhhh... my chest feels not near as heavy...
... not really. Now that you all truly know my foibles and fears, I feel even more overwhelmed because I am now acountable. LOL. How ironic.
*Washing Towels
I really should be better about this. I am pretty sure my mom washed towels at least once a week when I was a kid. But, for some reason, I don't even think about it until a good 2-3 weeks go by and they start to smell funny. I know that sounds absolutely disgusting, and my home is fairly clean... fairly. AND, we have our OWN washer & dryer which I picked out myself and absolutely LOVE. But me and washing towels just hardly ever happens. Well, me & laundry in general. I just don't love doing it. I need to work on that.
*Target
This store is the bane of my existence. I can NOT go into this place without buying something. We have one just kitty-corner from our home and it is a big problem. Sometimes, when I'm trying to think of something to do to entertain Malia, we decide to take a walk... to Target. We're supposed to be on a budget here! But I can't exit the store without purchasing, at the very least, a pack of gum. And even though the merchandise probably stays the same weeks at a time, I still find myself strolling through the home decor and clothing aisles at least once a week. Must stop.
*Do we put Malia in commercials?
Ok, this isn't really a confession so much as a thought. David and I have been amazed since the day Malia was born at how many compliments the child gets on her looks alone. Who knew?! Not only that, but she also has more than enough personality to boot. She is an absolute ham (no clue where she got that...). She will say literally any phrase I tell her to say. She makes faces that associate with 1/2 a dozen emotions on cue. (I'll post pix later). We sometimes talk about putting her in commercials. But we never really get around to the first step. Plus, do I really want one of "those" kids?
*Speaking of Malia...
... she's onto me. I don't know what it is, but whenever I leave the room to shower or do a load of laundry or clean something up, she is content doing whatever I left her to do. But if I am naughty and decide to go browse the Internet for no-good-reason or go into the kitchen to sneak a snack or turn the TV on downstairs to get a peek at whatever trash is currently on, she desperately starts calling for me. She knows when I'm indulging into something I probably shouldn't, no matter how silently I do it. This is a guilty confession because I guess I shouldn't be doing those things... and she's my little Jiminy Cricket.
*Trashy Reality TV
I. am. addicted. And the trashier, the better. All of those disgusting "Celebrity Dating shows" on VH1 & MTV (Flavor of Love, Rock of Love, I Love New York, etc.)? Yep. Seen 'em all. All seasons. Could probably name all the winners. Sad.
*Making OCD lists
I am such a list maker. This isn't necessarily a bad thing. What's bad is that I NEVER actually use them! When I am preparing for something that overwhelms me a little, I sit down and make lists to calm me down and get myself organized. And then I never refer to it! Then I will run across the stupid thing a few days later and think, "Hm. I should've used this." Lame.
Ok, this next one is more a fear, and not really a confession, but I have to get it off my chest.
*I am scared out of my mind for this second baby!
I know the reason,too. Malia's colic was so severe and lasted for so painfully long and caused me so much heartache and spiritual depression that I have no concept of what it's like to actually enjoy a newborn. I know the odds that this one won't have colic are pretty good, and I obviously know what to do otherwise. But my brain has no understanding or concept of what a "normal" 1-6 month old is like. I know them as constantly screaming, never sleeping, nursing poorly, and driving me insane... quite literally. I'm just afraid to do that again, all while trying to raise a 3-year-old at the same time. AND David is working now, whereas, with Malia, he was in school, and I could call him home whenever I was feeling homicidal. I'm just nervous. I'm not great with the unexpected these days. I used to be a much more exciting and spontaneous person. *sigh*
Ok... that's it for now. Ahhhhh... my chest feels not near as heavy...
... not really. Now that you all truly know my foibles and fears, I feel even more overwhelmed because I am now acountable. LOL. How ironic.
18 July 2008
Ah, the Good Ol' Days
.... so, not like I actually LIVED at this time.
But I did grow up in a house where these women were what I knew of great singers. I wasn't really exposed to modern pop culture until somewhere around junior high. Since then I have, admittedly, immersed myself in all of the intellect-draining trash of today's tabloid-monopolizing divas. I'm sorry... but I just can't look away from a good train wreck. But, when I come back to moments like the one below that remind me of when I was a kid and when I was only exposed to real talent and a real understanding of music, it brings out incredible emotion in me. It reminds me of the gift of music and why it was given to me. To truly entertain.
Duets between the Mariahs or Whitneys or Christinas will never hold a candle to these women. Real heart. Real soul. A real love of what it means to "sing" and do it for no other reason then simply... to sing.
ENJOY!
But I did grow up in a house where these women were what I knew of great singers. I wasn't really exposed to modern pop culture until somewhere around junior high. Since then I have, admittedly, immersed myself in all of the intellect-draining trash of today's tabloid-monopolizing divas. I'm sorry... but I just can't look away from a good train wreck. But, when I come back to moments like the one below that remind me of when I was a kid and when I was only exposed to real talent and a real understanding of music, it brings out incredible emotion in me. It reminds me of the gift of music and why it was given to me. To truly entertain.
Duets between the Mariahs or Whitneys or Christinas will never hold a candle to these women. Real heart. Real soul. A real love of what it means to "sing" and do it for no other reason then simply... to sing.
ENJOY!
07 July 2008
Security is Underrated
WARNING: long-winded!
Ok. So I am incredibly embarrassed that this post is inspired by "The Bachelorette." I've never really been into that whole series. This time around, I watched the first episode and I was HOOKED! And from the first 10 minutes, I knew who I wanted her to choose in the end. I watched this show religiously (DVR and everything) through the entire process, promising myself that when/if he (the guy I liked) was eliminated, I'd stop watching. To my total surprise, he made it to the finale as the final 2. BUT... she didn't pick him. I was shocked. I really was. And here's why:
Yeah, so he was divorced and he had a 3-year-old son. And while divorce isn't the greatest trait in a potential mate, it wasn't something he had chosen. His ex had decided to fall in love with someone else and leave her son behind. So this man was raising this little boy entirely on his own. Throughout the show, as all the other men drove me nuts with their testosterone-driven aggressiveness and jealous competitiveness, the one I liked, this divorcee', was always the gentleman, always kind - even to the other men - and always, ALWAYS smiling. I adored him for her. Heck, I adored him for anyone.
But I am not writing this to give a summary of the show or to be the founding president of his fan club. I want to discuss something that drives me NUTS about women and their ideals of what love is.
Before I met David, every guy I got seriously involved with I thought I was "in love" with. I have said, since then, that I was never truly in love. And I say that because of some very important elements: safety, security, & selflessness.
Not passion. Not drama. Not fireworks, walks on the beach, or candlelit dinners. On the show, she chose the guy that surprised her. She chose the "man" (I put quotes because he seemed a lot like a teenager to me) that changed the rules of everything she thought she'd ever wanted. The reason this bothers me is because when she turned down my choice, she told him she knew she'd have happiness, safety, & security with him, but that she was "in love" with someone else. Yeah, yeah, I know. It's important to be "in love." But anyone who watched that show canNOT deny she didn't have major feelings for both of them. She just wanted to be with the "exciting" one. Bah.
Let me tell you something, ladies... you with your fantasies of what love is about. Stop watching these stupid movies where these lame-oid guys win women over by constantly messing up and then making out, but keeping the girl because of their whimsical and fancy-free ways. We are looking for companions here; not sons to raise.
In Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis writes in a chapter called, "Christian Marriage." (I recommend that chapter to anyone who ever has been, is currently, or intends to, ever be married, i.e., everyone!). And he talks about the unhealthy notion of planning on being "passionately in love" for all of your life. I have so much to say about it. But I can't word it as good as he can, so I'll just quote him and say "ditto." (Bolds and italics added 'cause I wanted to):
"What we call 'being in love' is a glorious state, and, in several ways, good for us. It helps to make us generous and courageous, it opens our eyes not only to the beauty of the beloved but to all beauty... No one in his senses would deny that being in love is far better than either common sensuality or cold self-centredness. But, as I said before, 'the most dangerous thing you can do is to take any one impulse of our own nature and set it up as the thing you ought to follow at all costs'. Being in love is a good thing, but it is not the best thing... You cannot make it the basis of a whole life. It is a noble feeling, but it is still a feeling. Now no feeling can be relied on to last in its full intensity, or even to last at all. Knowledge can last, principles can last, habits can last; but feelings come and go. And in fact, whatever people say, the state called 'being in love' usually does not last. If the old fairy-tale ending 'They lived happily ever after' is taken to mean 'They felt for the next fifty years exactly as they felt the day before they were married,' then it says what probably never was nor ever would be true, and would be highly undesirable if it were. Who could bear to live in that excitement for even five years? What would become of your work, your appetite, your sleep, your friendships? But, of course, ceasing to be 'in love' need not mean ceasing to love. Love in this second sense... is a deep unity, maintained by the will and deliberately strengthened by habit... They can have this love for each other even at those moments when they do not like each other; as you love yourself even when you do not like yourself. They can retain this love even when each would easily, if they allowed themselves, be 'in love' with someone else. 'Being in love' first moved them to promise fidelity: this quieter love enables them to keep the promise. It is on this love that the engine of marriage is run: being in love was the explosion that started it."
So, you MUST read the whole chapter because he goes on with such logic but spiritual insight all at the same time.
My point is this. I had my fair share of silly little romantic flings that were filled with such strong infatuation and drama that I was convinced, EACH TIME, that I was meant to be with that person - that we were soul mates. And then I met David. Kind, secure, priesthood-worthy David. And I never would have guessed, in those first few months, that I would marry him. And then I grew up. I realized that marriage was going to be more than "YAY! Every day with you is so fun and awesome!" (Imagine that last sentence in your best ignorant, naive', valley-girl voice). I knew he would cherish me and take care of me for all eternity... even when we were old and ugly.... and I'd say fat, but been there done that, and he's still here... so....
So, I say security is underrated. There was a time when people's marriages were arranged on the good intentions and insight of their parents. And although, I thank the heavens ABOVE that I live in a time where I am free to choose someone I love and cherish on my own will... I don't forget that the divorce rate was much lower in those ancient times. There was something to the concept that, "for better or for worse," you stick by someone... even when/if the passion dies.
That is why God intended for us to be married. He wanted us to learn to be better people for it. To learn to love, even in the ugly times. To choose wisely and not on a whim driven by lusts... but by real love. Charitable, unconditional, long-lasting love. The quiet kind.
The kind the stupid entertainment industry still needs to make a movie about...
P.S. After reading this to David, he said it makes us sound like we have no passion in our lives at all. That is not the case. I say, "That's none of ya'll's bid-ness..."
Ok. So I am incredibly embarrassed that this post is inspired by "The Bachelorette." I've never really been into that whole series. This time around, I watched the first episode and I was HOOKED! And from the first 10 minutes, I knew who I wanted her to choose in the end. I watched this show religiously (DVR and everything) through the entire process, promising myself that when/if he (the guy I liked) was eliminated, I'd stop watching. To my total surprise, he made it to the finale as the final 2. BUT... she didn't pick him. I was shocked. I really was. And here's why:
Yeah, so he was divorced and he had a 3-year-old son. And while divorce isn't the greatest trait in a potential mate, it wasn't something he had chosen. His ex had decided to fall in love with someone else and leave her son behind. So this man was raising this little boy entirely on his own. Throughout the show, as all the other men drove me nuts with their testosterone-driven aggressiveness and jealous competitiveness, the one I liked, this divorcee', was always the gentleman, always kind - even to the other men - and always, ALWAYS smiling. I adored him for her. Heck, I adored him for anyone.
But I am not writing this to give a summary of the show or to be the founding president of his fan club. I want to discuss something that drives me NUTS about women and their ideals of what love is.
Before I met David, every guy I got seriously involved with I thought I was "in love" with. I have said, since then, that I was never truly in love. And I say that because of some very important elements: safety, security, & selflessness.
Not passion. Not drama. Not fireworks, walks on the beach, or candlelit dinners. On the show, she chose the guy that surprised her. She chose the "man" (I put quotes because he seemed a lot like a teenager to me) that changed the rules of everything she thought she'd ever wanted. The reason this bothers me is because when she turned down my choice, she told him she knew she'd have happiness, safety, & security with him, but that she was "in love" with someone else. Yeah, yeah, I know. It's important to be "in love." But anyone who watched that show canNOT deny she didn't have major feelings for both of them. She just wanted to be with the "exciting" one. Bah.
Let me tell you something, ladies... you with your fantasies of what love is about. Stop watching these stupid movies where these lame-oid guys win women over by constantly messing up and then making out, but keeping the girl because of their whimsical and fancy-free ways. We are looking for companions here; not sons to raise.
In Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis writes in a chapter called, "Christian Marriage." (I recommend that chapter to anyone who ever has been, is currently, or intends to, ever be married, i.e., everyone!). And he talks about the unhealthy notion of planning on being "passionately in love" for all of your life. I have so much to say about it. But I can't word it as good as he can, so I'll just quote him and say "ditto." (Bolds and italics added 'cause I wanted to):
"What we call 'being in love' is a glorious state, and, in several ways, good for us. It helps to make us generous and courageous, it opens our eyes not only to the beauty of the beloved but to all beauty... No one in his senses would deny that being in love is far better than either common sensuality or cold self-centredness. But, as I said before, 'the most dangerous thing you can do is to take any one impulse of our own nature and set it up as the thing you ought to follow at all costs'. Being in love is a good thing, but it is not the best thing... You cannot make it the basis of a whole life. It is a noble feeling, but it is still a feeling. Now no feeling can be relied on to last in its full intensity, or even to last at all. Knowledge can last, principles can last, habits can last; but feelings come and go. And in fact, whatever people say, the state called 'being in love' usually does not last. If the old fairy-tale ending 'They lived happily ever after' is taken to mean 'They felt for the next fifty years exactly as they felt the day before they were married,' then it says what probably never was nor ever would be true, and would be highly undesirable if it were. Who could bear to live in that excitement for even five years? What would become of your work, your appetite, your sleep, your friendships? But, of course, ceasing to be 'in love' need not mean ceasing to love. Love in this second sense... is a deep unity, maintained by the will and deliberately strengthened by habit... They can have this love for each other even at those moments when they do not like each other; as you love yourself even when you do not like yourself. They can retain this love even when each would easily, if they allowed themselves, be 'in love' with someone else. 'Being in love' first moved them to promise fidelity: this quieter love enables them to keep the promise. It is on this love that the engine of marriage is run: being in love was the explosion that started it."
So, you MUST read the whole chapter because he goes on with such logic but spiritual insight all at the same time.
My point is this. I had my fair share of silly little romantic flings that were filled with such strong infatuation and drama that I was convinced, EACH TIME, that I was meant to be with that person - that we were soul mates. And then I met David. Kind, secure, priesthood-worthy David. And I never would have guessed, in those first few months, that I would marry him. And then I grew up. I realized that marriage was going to be more than "YAY! Every day with you is so fun and awesome!" (Imagine that last sentence in your best ignorant, naive', valley-girl voice). I knew he would cherish me and take care of me for all eternity... even when we were old and ugly.... and I'd say fat, but been there done that, and he's still here... so....
So, I say security is underrated. There was a time when people's marriages were arranged on the good intentions and insight of their parents. And although, I thank the heavens ABOVE that I live in a time where I am free to choose someone I love and cherish on my own will... I don't forget that the divorce rate was much lower in those ancient times. There was something to the concept that, "for better or for worse," you stick by someone... even when/if the passion dies.
That is why God intended for us to be married. He wanted us to learn to be better people for it. To learn to love, even in the ugly times. To choose wisely and not on a whim driven by lusts... but by real love. Charitable, unconditional, long-lasting love. The quiet kind.
The kind the stupid entertainment industry still needs to make a movie about...
P.S. After reading this to David, he said it makes us sound like we have no passion in our lives at all. That is not the case. I say, "That's none of ya'll's bid-ness..."
02 July 2008
Gonna be in CA next week?
So, I'm scheduled to perform on July 9th at Citywalk by Universal Studios Hollywood at 7 PM (well, the contest starts at 7.... who knows when I'll be singing).
So if you're bored and it's not too far of a drive, I'd love any & all support!
23 June 2008
Wannabe Wicked?
So, about a month and a 1/2 ago, my friend Jean sent me this random e-mail with news about different "Wicked" goings-on in L.A. (Stephen Schwartz getting a star, new performance dates, etc). She knew my whole deal with the audition process a little over a year ago and so she's just cute like that sometimes. :)
On part of the newsletter, there was an announcement for a video contest called "Wannabe Wicked." Basically, you had to send in a tape of yourself singing a portion of 1 of the 5 songs they had listed from the show. They would then choose semi-finalists from those videos. If you are chosen as a semi-finalist, then you will sing on 1 of 5 semi-final nights at the Citywalk of Universal Studios Hollywood. If you are THEN chosen as a finalist, then there is one more night of competition and the winner of that wins a one-night-only walk-on role in the actual show. Sounded fun. And the possibility was a lot more promising then the whole "leaving-my-child-and-husband-behind-to-pursue-my-dreams-just-because-I-can" thing that I considered with the show before. What's one night, right?
Well... I sent in a video just because I already had one of me singing "Wizard & I" from a high school choir reunion a few years back. Yesterday, while I was editing my profile on the competition site, I saw that I'd been chosen as a semi-finalist! How fun for me. If nothing else comes of it, at least I will get one silly little night to belt it out like a diva for someone other then Malia... albeit as a pregnant and awkward diva. And who knows if anything will come of it. But, best-case-scenario, maybe I'll have a contest on my blog for the last 2 tickets of the free 10 for the show that I'd receive if I actually won this thing. (I probably just jinxed myself even just by saying that... oh well). Like I said, the pregnancy thing won't help.
If nothing else... it should be fun. :)
On part of the newsletter, there was an announcement for a video contest called "Wannabe Wicked." Basically, you had to send in a tape of yourself singing a portion of 1 of the 5 songs they had listed from the show. They would then choose semi-finalists from those videos. If you are chosen as a semi-finalist, then you will sing on 1 of 5 semi-final nights at the Citywalk of Universal Studios Hollywood. If you are THEN chosen as a finalist, then there is one more night of competition and the winner of that wins a one-night-only walk-on role in the actual show. Sounded fun. And the possibility was a lot more promising then the whole "leaving-my-child-and-husband-behind-to-pursue-my-dreams-just-because-I-can" thing that I considered with the show before. What's one night, right?
Well... I sent in a video just because I already had one of me singing "Wizard & I" from a high school choir reunion a few years back. Yesterday, while I was editing my profile on the competition site, I saw that I'd been chosen as a semi-finalist! How fun for me. If nothing else comes of it, at least I will get one silly little night to belt it out like a diva for someone other then Malia... albeit as a pregnant and awkward diva. And who knows if anything will come of it. But, best-case-scenario, maybe I'll have a contest on my blog for the last 2 tickets of the free 10 for the show that I'd receive if I actually won this thing. (I probably just jinxed myself even just by saying that... oh well). Like I said, the pregnancy thing won't help.
If nothing else... it should be fun. :)
(Below is the video I submitted)
23 May 2008
Dr. Tiffany Nutter, PhD. in Sleep
I read at least 1/2 a dozen books on sleep when Malia was little. (Yes, I read every single one of those pictured above.... cover to cover... some of them 3 or 4 times). Book in one hand, screaming baby in the other. Book after book after book, I was trying to find the magic answer to solve all the woes. I finally transferred to an awesome pediatrician (holla, Dr. Brinton!) who said to me, "Your child has severe colic. Probably the worst I've ever seen. Accept that these methods you are reading about will. not. work. for. her." So, it was a relief to know I wasn't just an idiot failing miserably, trying all of these things, and my child getting worse, instead of better. Turns out my kid was the lovely exception to all of the rules.
However, once her colic was miraculously taken care of by an amazing Chiropractor (holla, Dr. Thompson!), she had the most deplorable sleeping habits. The child had gotten used to waking up, literally - not an exaggeration - every 45 minutes to an hour all night long. So, I put my knowledge to work. I combined everything I'd read into what made the most logical sense to me. And, after about 3 months, things finally came to a glorious place (Malia still sleeps the maximum amount of hours for a child her age). I had even become the ward sleep specialist. I had moms coming to me with the sleep problems of their children... admittedly, it would get a little frustrating to hear that my advice had made differences for them overnight, whereas, it had taken me 3 months with my own child. Oh well. *sigh* Glad I could help.
HOWEVER, throughout all of my reading, I gained an incredible insight on sleep in general... not just for my child. Adults really do not truly understand the importance of sleep... especially American adults. It is crucial to our physical, mental, and emotional health. It really is! And I have become almost obsessive about getting my 8 hours of sleep ever since.
Problem is, ever since Malia was born, I've had a terrible time sleeping through the night myself. Even once she began finally doing it consistently, I have since become my worst nightmare: a frequent night-waker.
It sucks!!!!
Ok, so get this... 2 months ago, I slept through the night FOR THE FIRST TIME since Malia was born! She's 2 1/2, mind you. I was so HAPPY! I woke up for the first time since falling asleep, completely shocked that the sun was already up. I felt more tired then usual when I woke up, probably because my mind was thinking, "Yes, YES! More!" I was anticipating a great new change in my sleep patterns. Finally, I'll have the energy I've been lacking. I'll be a much more stable and happy person! Yes! SLEEEEEEP!
3 days later I found out I was pregnant.
I've been up every night since, already, with frequent trips to bathroom.
Some things are just not meant to be...
05 May 2008
Singing in the Shower
Ok.... so this may sound really strange, but I've never sung in the shower.
I've heard about it in various sitcoms, comedy acts, popular culture, etc. I've even had friends tell me about experiences they themselves have had while putting on recitals in the acoustical perfection of their bathrooms. But I've never done it.
Here's the thing: I grew up in a musical family. For anyone who knows us, that may seem like a bit of an understatement. My parents are both singers/musicians who put very possible successful careers on the backburner. They had 5 children, ALL of which sing and play a musical instrument... and ALL of which are quite good at it. When it comes to music, there is not an ounce of mediocrity in a single member of my immediate family. We even had a band that performed on all of the major holidays as well as at state & county fairs, local store grand openings, Church functions, and an occasional TV spot. This isn't a joke. We were like the Partridge Family (even better, in my opinion) and we're actually related. We even got paid for these "gigs" (imagine a 7-year-old turning down a birthday party because she had a "gig" with her family... I swear, it's true). Us kids never saw the money, but I'm told it was there.
I'm not just bragging. In fact, in some cases, quite the opposite. I mean, envision your typical sibling rivalries enhanced even more so by the fact that you all share the same talents and are all striving for success in the same area, which isn't going to happen, since we all know the business of the arts is more like a lottery then a true judgement of your ability.
Thus, why I never sang in the shower. When you have to hear your siblings sing and make a general musical ruckus all day long, a moment of peace & quiet in the shower was hard to come by... and very welcomed. Not to mention, I have no doubt I would have been royally mocked... especially if I was making an attempt to actually sing well in the shower. That's just the kind of loving family I have.
Admittedly, I've done a vocal warm-up here & there when I have somewhere to sing in the morning and time is limited. But no actual "singing."
Until today.
And let me tell you. The experience & acoustics are not over-rated.
I was awesome!
I've heard about it in various sitcoms, comedy acts, popular culture, etc. I've even had friends tell me about experiences they themselves have had while putting on recitals in the acoustical perfection of their bathrooms. But I've never done it.
Here's the thing: I grew up in a musical family. For anyone who knows us, that may seem like a bit of an understatement. My parents are both singers/musicians who put very possible successful careers on the backburner. They had 5 children, ALL of which sing and play a musical instrument... and ALL of which are quite good at it. When it comes to music, there is not an ounce of mediocrity in a single member of my immediate family. We even had a band that performed on all of the major holidays as well as at state & county fairs, local store grand openings, Church functions, and an occasional TV spot. This isn't a joke. We were like the Partridge Family (even better, in my opinion) and we're actually related. We even got paid for these "gigs" (imagine a 7-year-old turning down a birthday party because she had a "gig" with her family... I swear, it's true). Us kids never saw the money, but I'm told it was there.
I'm not just bragging. In fact, in some cases, quite the opposite. I mean, envision your typical sibling rivalries enhanced even more so by the fact that you all share the same talents and are all striving for success in the same area, which isn't going to happen, since we all know the business of the arts is more like a lottery then a true judgement of your ability.
Thus, why I never sang in the shower. When you have to hear your siblings sing and make a general musical ruckus all day long, a moment of peace & quiet in the shower was hard to come by... and very welcomed. Not to mention, I have no doubt I would have been royally mocked... especially if I was making an attempt to actually sing well in the shower. That's just the kind of loving family I have.
Admittedly, I've done a vocal warm-up here & there when I have somewhere to sing in the morning and time is limited. But no actual "singing."
Until today.
And let me tell you. The experience & acoustics are not over-rated.
I was awesome!
23 April 2008
If you ever come to visit...
... and the idea of going to Disneyland causes your wallet to tremble in fear of black-holeness, then we can go to Atlantis! No, really! And it's only $1!
A friend from Church told me about it a couple weeks ago, and when Malia and I were in the mood to get outside, but were on a block-out day from Disneyland, we decided to check it out. It costs $1 per person, and if you are an adult, you can't get in unless you already have a child with you. It's a cool way to create a feeling of safety so none of those pedophilic perverts can get in. Kind of cool.
It's basically a big park with a few of your typical jungle gyms, but then it is also dotted with some oceanic-themed goodies. It's a little old and out-dated, but I really had no complaints seeing as how it cost next to nothing to get in. And Malia had a blast.
Our first stop was the Sting-Ray, and Malia was so excited to get on that she biffed it about 1/2 a dozen times down the hill. But she was a trooper. She would just say, "whoops!" and get right back up and continue on in her haphazard manner.
So, Malia isn't a huge fan of slides. She used to be. I'm not sure exactly what happened... and David won't admit that there was trauma when I was away once and he took her on one. I'm still investigating. But once she went down the slide, I put her back in the whale's mouth just for a picture, and, I don't know if you can see it, but in this picture she is saying, "Wheeeeeee!" and clenching her fists and body in excitement.... but she's not even moving. She cracks me up.
A friend from Church told me about it a couple weeks ago, and when Malia and I were in the mood to get outside, but were on a block-out day from Disneyland, we decided to check it out. It costs $1 per person, and if you are an adult, you can't get in unless you already have a child with you. It's a cool way to create a feeling of safety so none of those pedophilic perverts can get in. Kind of cool.
It's basically a big park with a few of your typical jungle gyms, but then it is also dotted with some oceanic-themed goodies. It's a little old and out-dated, but I really had no complaints seeing as how it cost next to nothing to get in. And Malia had a blast.
Our first stop was the Sting-Ray, and Malia was so excited to get on that she biffed it about 1/2 a dozen times down the hill. But she was a trooper. She would just say, "whoops!" and get right back up and continue on in her haphazard manner.
So, Malia isn't a huge fan of slides. She used to be. I'm not sure exactly what happened... and David won't admit that there was trauma when I was away once and he took her on one. I'm still investigating. But once she went down the slide, I put her back in the whale's mouth just for a picture, and, I don't know if you can see it, but in this picture she is saying, "Wheeeeeee!" and clenching her fists and body in excitement.... but she's not even moving. She cracks me up.
Malia loves these rocking-springy things at whatever park we go to. But she looks miserable on it in this picture. I think I just caught her during a random pause.
Ok. Again, Malia isn't a huge fan of slides, but when I saw this thing, I had to take her on it. Note for future reference: the darn thing is, like, 6 inches wide and twists and turns. Needless to say, I don't think it was meant for adult female hips.
It took us a while to get down. I was embarrassed.
We found a little boy digging, and Malia kept saying, "Dig? Dig? Please? Dig?" Eventually the little boy told us it wasn't his stuff and that it was just there, so he told Malia she could join him.
She was so happy.
He took a liking to her and decided to come over and sit with her. Let me just say, my little girl is a shameless flirt! I am in severe trouble in the future...
Overall, it was worth the total $2 and a happy meal from McDonald's. It was a good day.
22 April 2008
One Step at a Time
We've been living in our home for just over 4 months now. I was convinced I would have the whole thing renovated and remodeled by now. Silly me. I mean, money and time are much harder to come by then I sometimes realize. So, it's a gradual process. We still have a living rom ceiling to paint and stairs to fix and the entire upstairs needs a good finishing; not to mention I intend to completely renovate both bathrooms and the kitchen when we win next month's lottery..... riiiiiiight.
But we did finally get to our home office. I've been teaching voice/piano lessons in there and it's been driving me nuts how awful the room is. On Conference weekend, since David would be home, I saw it as the perfect opportunity! It took us only 2 days.... probably should've taken less, but it really is hard to do large tasks with an active 2-year-old around.
*disclaimer: please excuse Malia's naked exhibitionism in a photo or 2
But we did finally get to our home office. I've been teaching voice/piano lessons in there and it's been driving me nuts how awful the room is. On Conference weekend, since David would be home, I saw it as the perfect opportunity! It took us only 2 days.... probably should've taken less, but it really is hard to do large tasks with an active 2-year-old around.
*disclaimer: please excuse Malia's naked exhibitionism in a photo or 2
20 April 2008
Disneyland.... Home Away from Home
So, Malia and I go to Disneyland... a lot. When we first moved here, I begged and pleaded for almost 6 months to get an Annual Passport. David finally complied (mostly because my whine is quite annoying). And we've been going almost once a week for a year now... except holidays and the summer. I'm blocked out on those days. Thank heavens. Why would I want to go on days when it takes 3 hours just to go on Dumbo?
I'm spoiled. I know.
I thought I would share some pictures from some of our recent adventures to the Happiest Place on Earth. ENJOY!
I'm spoiled. I know.
I thought I would share some pictures from some of our recent adventures to the Happiest Place on Earth. ENJOY!
03 April 2008
Ode to Davey
I was noticing that the majority of this blog contains 2 topics: Malia's Milestones & My Rantings. David doesn't post on the blog (despite my best efforts to encourage him to do otherwise) and so, if you only knew our family through our blog, you might assume he didn't even exist.Thus, the reason for this next post. Some of this will be old news to many of you. But a small handful of you might find it both enlightening and entertaining. I am mostly doing it to embarrass the heck out of my husband (as if I don't already do that on a daily basis... HA!) And because he needs the occasional affirmation of how awesome and appreciated he truly is.
When David and I met, we were on the other side of the world and we were both spoken for. That was the beauty of it. There was absolutely nothing that spoke of a possible romance between the two of us. We had both just been cast as performers at the then newly-opened Universal Studios Theme Park in Osaka, Japan. He had left a girlfriend behind back at BYU in Provo, and I had a missionary in Brazil. Our first impressions of each other were... less then spectacular. I had already been at the new place for a day, and he had just flown in that morning. I had been informed of "another Mormon" and was very excited to meet him. To be honest? I was hoping for a temporary fling while my missionary was gone. However, when David and I met for the 1st time just outside the elevator of the 8th floor, where we both would be living for the next year, we wrote each other off almost immediately. I saw him as shy, boring, and incredibly behind on the fashion times. (mind you, he was still somewhat fresh from the mission field). He saw me as loud, intimidating, and somewhat obnoxious... which, I suppose, isn't too far from the truth. However, in spite of, or maybe because of these reservations, we became fast platonic friends. He was even called to be my home teacher, which was convenient since we lived 3 doors away.
To cut to the chase: After 4 months of pure best-friendship, David and I started dating (he and the other girl had mutually parted by this time). Our relationship had it's ups & downs. But, for the most part, it was the easiest, healthiest relationship I'd ever had.
But the purpose of this was not to tell you how we met (I know, "Could've fooled me!")
The purpose is to shout to the world how grateful I am for the sacrifices he's made for Malia & I. If you are a regular reader of this blog, then you are more then aware that I chose Mommyhood over what may've been a potentially successful career on the stage. Well, when David & I were dating, he had goals to be a successful film actor. I told him that until he changed his plans, we could not discuss getting married. (hey - I was looking out for my future offspring, ok?!)
The long & the short of it? David currently has a Physics Masters Degree with an emphasis in Acoustics and a BA in Japanese and he works for a scientific research company as an Engineer so that he can put bread on the table and so that I can stay home with Malia.
BO-RING!
And he does it because he is an incredible human being. He is selfless, thoughtful, generous, righteous, all those other things I find myself lacking in.... the "Yin to my Yang," so-to-speak.
This is for him.
David, I love you, admire you, and am grateful, every day, to God,
for the gift of you.
You are my greatest blessing....
aside from the ones we've created together.
22 March 2008
Malia learns to whistle.... backwards
P.S. Please don't think I'm a bad mom for the fact she still has dinner on her face... it was part of the charm of the whole thing.
14 March 2008
Ok. I just wanted to do this one.
I've seen this on a few friends' blogs now, and no one will tag me for this specific one. So, I'm doing it just 'cause I want to and I'm a brat that way. Truth be told? I can't imagine anyone actually cares about my answers to these, but I enjoy reminiscing and looking back on what I've accomplished. It turns out that I'm not only a brat but I'm self-serving and narcissistic as well. Wow. Poor Dave.
20 years ago: It makes me feel old to say I that was alive 20 years ago. But it was 1988. I got baptized that year. There are 3 things I remember about my baptism. 1)I was promised banana splits afterwards. 2) I was annoyed that I hadn't dried off better because my pretty white dress was sticking to my body. 3) I was kind of annoyed that I had to share my baptism day with another girl in my ward because she had been out-of-town during her month. This was also the year I decided to be like my mom and got an identical haircut and perm. Problem was, it was a style meant for older women. I looked lame. Brian Maloney called me "Orphan Annie" & "Poodle-head."
10 years ago: 1998. Now I really feel old, because I have to officially acknowledge now that my 10-year high school reunion is quickly approaching. Go Class of '98! Woot! This was a big year. I had gone from having kissed only 2 boys in the first 18 years of my life to this specific year when my serious boyfriend of almost a year broke my heart (for those of you who haven't heard.... he cheated on me with an 8th grader. So lame. I know). Then I had a rebound relationship with a guy almost 10 years older then me. I moved out and started college, and met a Jehovah's Witness boy and we had a very dramatic, tumultuous relationship (driven by the fact his parents loathed, I mean loathed, Mormons). Good times.
5 years ago: Ugh. I am so glad I didn't have to write about some of the stuff between '98 & 2001. Phew! Although... there were good times, too. I'm just sayin'. OK, so 5 years ago, I was beginning my 2nd year of marriage to my wonderful husband. I had just completed teaching a year of high school and I was exhausted and ready to finish college. I wanted OUT! (of college... not my marriage). I also did a record 4 shows that year.
3 years ago: This was a very big year of change for me. I graduated college this year. We went to NYC for showcase where a casting director offered me 2 jobs, right there, on the spot, but I had just found out I was pregnant (after fearing for 2 weeks I might lose the baby due to possible ectopic pregnancy). I had morning sickness ALL DAY & NIGHT for 3 months. Then I had a lovely 2nd trimester and we took a big, fun CA trip with some friends, where they rode all the roller coasters... and I held their stuff (so lame). Then I got kidney stones during the 3rd trimester. And then after 18 hours of labor, I had to have an emergency cesarean. But through all that, the greatest joy of my life was born. Malia Renee entered my life 3 years ago. She's only 2, but she entered then... you know.... I mean.... if you count it up.... oh never mind.
1 year ago: We'd been living in CA for David's new first job post-grad-school, for a little while, and were finally beginning to settle. It was a very anticlimactic year... which can be nice, to tell you the truth. (except for that whole "moving-company-being-over-a-month-late-with-our-stuff-so-I-stayed-at-my-parents'-house-while-Dave-slept-on-the-floor-of-our-new-apartment-for-3-weeks" thing). Oh, and I tried out for "Wicked" and got called back for Elphaba, but had prior obligations and had to turn things down. Kind of sucked.
So far this year: Did a game show. Bought a house. Malia turned 2. Took on some voice students. Just got called with David to teach the CTR 5 class.
Yesterday I: Shaved my legs (hey - that's huge for me, sometimes). Went grocery shopping. Washed the sheets because Malia peed on them because she didn't have a diaper on because I was letting her rash air-dry. Watched LOST.
Today I: Ran some errands. Videotaped Malia doing gymnastics and singing on our bed. Ate some ice cream (bad. BAD!) Bought David some junk food for his game night. Got ready for bed.
Later tonight: I'm about 10 minutes away from brushing my teeth and going to bed.
Tomorrow: David's grandparents will be stopping by. Then David is going to the temple with a friend, so I'll probably just take Malia to the park, or something. Then, somewhere in there, I'll practice the song I'm supposed to sing in Church on Sunday.
This year I hope to: Be involved in a theatrical production in some way or another. (I'm DYIN' here). Oh, and I wouldn't mind getting pregnant... although, the fact that I just announced that desire means it won't happen. Maybe we should get a dog...
I tag: Whoever wants to do it. :D
20 years ago: It makes me feel old to say I that was alive 20 years ago. But it was 1988. I got baptized that year. There are 3 things I remember about my baptism. 1)I was promised banana splits afterwards. 2) I was annoyed that I hadn't dried off better because my pretty white dress was sticking to my body. 3) I was kind of annoyed that I had to share my baptism day with another girl in my ward because she had been out-of-town during her month. This was also the year I decided to be like my mom and got an identical haircut and perm. Problem was, it was a style meant for older women. I looked lame. Brian Maloney called me "Orphan Annie" & "Poodle-head."
10 years ago: 1998. Now I really feel old, because I have to officially acknowledge now that my 10-year high school reunion is quickly approaching. Go Class of '98! Woot! This was a big year. I had gone from having kissed only 2 boys in the first 18 years of my life to this specific year when my serious boyfriend of almost a year broke my heart (for those of you who haven't heard.... he cheated on me with an 8th grader. So lame. I know). Then I had a rebound relationship with a guy almost 10 years older then me. I moved out and started college, and met a Jehovah's Witness boy and we had a very dramatic, tumultuous relationship (driven by the fact his parents loathed, I mean loathed, Mormons). Good times.
5 years ago: Ugh. I am so glad I didn't have to write about some of the stuff between '98 & 2001. Phew! Although... there were good times, too. I'm just sayin'. OK, so 5 years ago, I was beginning my 2nd year of marriage to my wonderful husband. I had just completed teaching a year of high school and I was exhausted and ready to finish college. I wanted OUT! (of college... not my marriage). I also did a record 4 shows that year.
3 years ago: This was a very big year of change for me. I graduated college this year. We went to NYC for showcase where a casting director offered me 2 jobs, right there, on the spot, but I had just found out I was pregnant (after fearing for 2 weeks I might lose the baby due to possible ectopic pregnancy). I had morning sickness ALL DAY & NIGHT for 3 months. Then I had a lovely 2nd trimester and we took a big, fun CA trip with some friends, where they rode all the roller coasters... and I held their stuff (so lame). Then I got kidney stones during the 3rd trimester. And then after 18 hours of labor, I had to have an emergency cesarean. But through all that, the greatest joy of my life was born. Malia Renee entered my life 3 years ago. She's only 2, but she entered then... you know.... I mean.... if you count it up.... oh never mind.
1 year ago: We'd been living in CA for David's new first job post-grad-school, for a little while, and were finally beginning to settle. It was a very anticlimactic year... which can be nice, to tell you the truth. (except for that whole "moving-company-being-over-a-month-late-with-our-stuff-so-I-stayed-at-my-parents'-house-while-Dave-slept-on-the-floor-of-our-new-apartment-for-3-weeks" thing). Oh, and I tried out for "Wicked" and got called back for Elphaba, but had prior obligations and had to turn things down. Kind of sucked.
So far this year: Did a game show. Bought a house. Malia turned 2. Took on some voice students. Just got called with David to teach the CTR 5 class.
Yesterday I: Shaved my legs (hey - that's huge for me, sometimes). Went grocery shopping. Washed the sheets because Malia peed on them because she didn't have a diaper on because I was letting her rash air-dry. Watched LOST.
Today I: Ran some errands. Videotaped Malia doing gymnastics and singing on our bed. Ate some ice cream (bad. BAD!) Bought David some junk food for his game night. Got ready for bed.
Later tonight: I'm about 10 minutes away from brushing my teeth and going to bed.
Tomorrow: David's grandparents will be stopping by. Then David is going to the temple with a friend, so I'll probably just take Malia to the park, or something. Then, somewhere in there, I'll practice the song I'm supposed to sing in Church on Sunday.
This year I hope to: Be involved in a theatrical production in some way or another. (I'm DYIN' here). Oh, and I wouldn't mind getting pregnant... although, the fact that I just announced that desire means it won't happen. Maybe we should get a dog...
I tag: Whoever wants to do it. :D
06 March 2008
This is what happens when I think alot
Just thought I would share this little short story I wrote the other day when Malia was sleeping and I was dwelling on my decision to not pursue "the performing thing" for now. I thought many of you would appreciate the perspective... and probably empathize:
THE AUDITION
“I’ve never been so nervous…” I stuttered to the stranger in the chair next to me. I let out an awkward chuckle, wringing my hands. He gave me a polite smile.
“… and sweaty,” I added. Again, a polite smile; but this time, he scooted over.
I decided at that moment that any conversation was going to perpetuate my anxiety and decided to focus simply on making sure that my pieces were memorized. No use ruining my chances before even having the opportunity to be seen. I was doing a comedic monologue -typical for me - filled with sarcasm and slapstick. It seemed to me that was the best way to go. Distract them from any possible mistakes by using my gift for dry wit, goofy faces, and over-the-top antics, I reminded myself. My song was a more dramatic piece, and I could usually overcome any lack of effective emotion by sheer volume.
I looked around the room. There were a lot of girls who looked a lot like me which was interesting. I was so used to being surrounded by the supermodel types for these things. However, the ones here were not stunning, by any means. But they had that quiet beauty. The kind you see in girls who are good-looking enough to make it in the door initially, but then have to compensate for anything they may be lacking with oodles of talent.
“My kind of girls,” I laughed to myself.
My neighbor looked over and laughed. Oops, I hadn’t realized I’d said that out loud.
“I’m nervous too,” he offered. “Not every day you have to go through this big of an audition.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, grateful for the interaction. “And not every day the payoff is so important.”
“Seriously.”
He had a warm smile. I gave a thankful smile back. That was something that was so different about this audition. No cold, jealous stares. No sharing of resumés, trying to one-up each other. Just genuine, good people who were all as nervous as I was.
A name was called.
My new friend stood. “Well. That’s me. Wish me luck?”
“Good luck… er, break a leg? Well, either way, I wish you the best.”
“Pray for me?”
I laughed… but then I realized that was the best I really could do for him.
“I promise.”
I watched him walk into the room, and felt myself get nervous for him. Ugh, I can’t do this. I’m nervous enough for myself! It got really difficult at that point. I felt very alone all of the sudden, and as I rehearsed in my head to pass the time, the lyrics to the song I was going to be singing started getting jumbled, which was weird, because I had it down cold. Come on. You know this. You’ve been preparing for this for a really long time. You’ve got the talent; you just have to be sure you have the confidence.
After what felt like forever, my name was called. I stood up, very nervous. The others in the room smiled and gave me reassuring nods. I breathed in and out, and handed my resumé to the man at the door.
“You don’t need that.”
“Right. Of course.”
When I walked into the room, to my surprise (and relief) my nerves completely vanished. I was overcome with peace. I felt… home.
I stood on my mark and removed my glasses, which had become a habit. I couldn’t see him at the other side of the room, but I could sense he was there. Darn it. Why couldn’t I just ever invest in some contacts?
I gave a big cheesy grin, a typical default icebreaker for me. My cue was played, and I began to belt it out. A fairly flawless performance, I began to feel my confidence coming back, and I finished with precise execution. He seemed impressed and I could feel him nod in approval. The monologue didn’t go so bad either. He even laughed a little, as if he understood me and my quirky sense of humor.
When I was done, he spoke gently. “You are very talented.”
I blushed. “Thank you. Or should I say thank you?”
Then, in a more firm but, somehow, still very gentle voice he asked, “What exactly did you do with all of that talent?”
Here was the hard part.
To my surprise, I started to choke up, not sure if it was nerves or simply the overwhelming importance of the question. I was very afraid my answer wouldn’t be enough. Oh well. Nothing I can do about it now. Here goes…
“Well, a lot, I think. At least, I tried to. I mean, I was by no means a celebrity. And it was hard not to pursue that kind of life. It looked so glamorous and seemed so… in my reach. But, I did play the piano for Church whenever I was asked to. I even volunteered at times they were too afraid to ask. I sang in the choir. I served faithfully in the Primary when called, and even as a substitute. I sometimes choreographed little numbers for the Young Women. I sang in Sacrament Meeting frequently and tried to do so only with the Spirit in my heart. I spent hours and hours at the piano, teaching my children to love music. They do… I think. I mean, it really wasn’t a lot. I didn’t ever really feel completely fulfilled. I always wanted more, but tried to stifle that feeling by serving my family and my friends, and always worried it wasn’t enough; that I could’ve been something more…”
He came closer, and despite my tears, I could see his face, very clearly. At that moment, the fear that I wouldn’t recognize him, or that he wouldn’t know me, vanished. He embraced me, and kissed my head.
“It was enough.”
I hugged Him tight.
“Well done, my daughter,” He said, and with a kind smile, He added, “You’ve earned the part.”
“… and sweaty,” I added. Again, a polite smile; but this time, he scooted over.
I decided at that moment that any conversation was going to perpetuate my anxiety and decided to focus simply on making sure that my pieces were memorized. No use ruining my chances before even having the opportunity to be seen. I was doing a comedic monologue -typical for me - filled with sarcasm and slapstick. It seemed to me that was the best way to go. Distract them from any possible mistakes by using my gift for dry wit, goofy faces, and over-the-top antics, I reminded myself. My song was a more dramatic piece, and I could usually overcome any lack of effective emotion by sheer volume.
I looked around the room. There were a lot of girls who looked a lot like me which was interesting. I was so used to being surrounded by the supermodel types for these things. However, the ones here were not stunning, by any means. But they had that quiet beauty. The kind you see in girls who are good-looking enough to make it in the door initially, but then have to compensate for anything they may be lacking with oodles of talent.
“My kind of girls,” I laughed to myself.
My neighbor looked over and laughed. Oops, I hadn’t realized I’d said that out loud.
“I’m nervous too,” he offered. “Not every day you have to go through this big of an audition.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, grateful for the interaction. “And not every day the payoff is so important.”
“Seriously.”
He had a warm smile. I gave a thankful smile back. That was something that was so different about this audition. No cold, jealous stares. No sharing of resumés, trying to one-up each other. Just genuine, good people who were all as nervous as I was.
A name was called.
My new friend stood. “Well. That’s me. Wish me luck?”
“Good luck… er, break a leg? Well, either way, I wish you the best.”
“Pray for me?”
I laughed… but then I realized that was the best I really could do for him.
“I promise.”
I watched him walk into the room, and felt myself get nervous for him. Ugh, I can’t do this. I’m nervous enough for myself! It got really difficult at that point. I felt very alone all of the sudden, and as I rehearsed in my head to pass the time, the lyrics to the song I was going to be singing started getting jumbled, which was weird, because I had it down cold. Come on. You know this. You’ve been preparing for this for a really long time. You’ve got the talent; you just have to be sure you have the confidence.
After what felt like forever, my name was called. I stood up, very nervous. The others in the room smiled and gave me reassuring nods. I breathed in and out, and handed my resumé to the man at the door.
“You don’t need that.”
“Right. Of course.”
When I walked into the room, to my surprise (and relief) my nerves completely vanished. I was overcome with peace. I felt… home.
I stood on my mark and removed my glasses, which had become a habit. I couldn’t see him at the other side of the room, but I could sense he was there. Darn it. Why couldn’t I just ever invest in some contacts?
I gave a big cheesy grin, a typical default icebreaker for me. My cue was played, and I began to belt it out. A fairly flawless performance, I began to feel my confidence coming back, and I finished with precise execution. He seemed impressed and I could feel him nod in approval. The monologue didn’t go so bad either. He even laughed a little, as if he understood me and my quirky sense of humor.
When I was done, he spoke gently. “You are very talented.”
I blushed. “Thank you. Or should I say thank you?”
Then, in a more firm but, somehow, still very gentle voice he asked, “What exactly did you do with all of that talent?”
Here was the hard part.
To my surprise, I started to choke up, not sure if it was nerves or simply the overwhelming importance of the question. I was very afraid my answer wouldn’t be enough. Oh well. Nothing I can do about it now. Here goes…
“Well, a lot, I think. At least, I tried to. I mean, I was by no means a celebrity. And it was hard not to pursue that kind of life. It looked so glamorous and seemed so… in my reach. But, I did play the piano for Church whenever I was asked to. I even volunteered at times they were too afraid to ask. I sang in the choir. I served faithfully in the Primary when called, and even as a substitute. I sometimes choreographed little numbers for the Young Women. I sang in Sacrament Meeting frequently and tried to do so only with the Spirit in my heart. I spent hours and hours at the piano, teaching my children to love music. They do… I think. I mean, it really wasn’t a lot. I didn’t ever really feel completely fulfilled. I always wanted more, but tried to stifle that feeling by serving my family and my friends, and always worried it wasn’t enough; that I could’ve been something more…”
He came closer, and despite my tears, I could see his face, very clearly. At that moment, the fear that I wouldn’t recognize him, or that he wouldn’t know me, vanished. He embraced me, and kissed my head.
“It was enough.”
I hugged Him tight.
“Well done, my daughter,” He said, and with a kind smile, He added, “You’ve earned the part.”
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