It's been a long time since I've done a Day Zero update - and we're almost down to a year! I still have a lot of goals to accomplish. For those who might be curious, Day Zero is my "101 list" - a bucket list with a time limit of 1001 days. I have 101 goals to finish before that little blue clock on the bottom left of my blog runs out of time. My complete list is on a tab at the top.
In any case, I've completed some things lately:
#12: Let my hair grow for a full year.
This goal didn't turn out as well as I'd hoped. I'd anticipated long, beautiful tresses, but, as it turns out, my hair doesn't like to be longer than my shoulders. Oh well - it's beautiful just how it is. It's been fun having longer hair for an extended period of time - and it's gotten much thicker, too. I'm considering cutting a couple inches off to make it a little more manageable, since it's a lot of different lengths, but we'll see.
#71: Fly a kite
I got Ryan a cute Spiderman kite for Easter. We took it to Bear Lake with us and, joy of all joys, it was super windy one day. The kite flew with no problems. I think the best part was Hailey's face when we let her fly it and she let go - and watched in astonishment as it tumbled to the sand, Ryan chasing after it as hard as he could run.
#56: Ask someone on a date
Okay, this one was intended for my days of singlehood when I was supposed to challenge my lack of confidence and reach outside of my comfort zone. No apologies. I really don't care anymore! :) Ryan and I have gone on a lot of fun dates this last year - some of which were dying Easter eggs, going out to dinner, etc... The one I'm thinking of in particular was where I wrote up three "evening plans" and put a question on the back of each one. He picked the question that he most wanted the answer to, and that's what we did. We ended up having a barbeque, playing catch, going to Cold Stone, and watching a movie.
Next up: Zoo animal cookies - with my new birthday present! (cookie cutters)
Viva la Vida.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Spitless and Drooling
I can't feel my face.
Due to a combination of poor genes and soft enamel, I have pretty bad teeth. I am particularly susceptible to little baby cavities that eat away at my pearly cream-coloreds until pretty soon my pearly cream-coloreds are shiny silver-spotteds, or worse, soft, creamy-looking bumps of artificial cement masquerading as a tooth in my mouth. I have one of those and a fantastic assortment of speckled teeth.
Lovely.
Now I'm sitting at work crossing my fingers and toes that the phone doesn't ring, because I can't feel my face thanks to an upper-left block and a lower-right infiltration, and I'm crossing my eyes and ears that nobody walks in because my smile is reminiscent of a sweet elderly woman who has recently had a stroke. Excellent.
What makes things EVEN BETTER is that in less than two hours I'll be crowding up to a computer with my amazing ESL students, discussing their various uses of English grammar while I inadvertently drool all over their papers and they stare at me in some kind of trance, wondering why this American girl doesn't move half her face. I'll see the shock and horror in their eyes as they worry that perhaps it's a part of learning the English language that most of their teachers have forgotten to tell them.
And if all that wasn't good enough, I have the marvelous blessing of being able to teach myself a new skill: swallowing. That's right, folks, apparently my tongue has been partying away for the last 22 years and some-odd months (when do fetuses [feti? fetum?] develop tongues, anyway?). In any case, it doesn't do its job very well (bad tongue!) and the orthodontist's assistant struck the fear of wild rhinosceroses [rhinosceri? rhinocerum?] into me yesterday and sent me away with a happy little handout about how to swallow properly. I've been practicing ever since. Tongue-thrusting has me scared spitless (literally. It feels like I have cottonmouth from practicing so much).
So here's to a happy day full of drool and swallowing. Viva la Vida... I guess...
Due to a combination of poor genes and soft enamel, I have pretty bad teeth. I am particularly susceptible to little baby cavities that eat away at my pearly cream-coloreds until pretty soon my pearly cream-coloreds are shiny silver-spotteds, or worse, soft, creamy-looking bumps of artificial cement masquerading as a tooth in my mouth. I have one of those and a fantastic assortment of speckled teeth.
Lovely.
Now I'm sitting at work crossing my fingers and toes that the phone doesn't ring, because I can't feel my face thanks to an upper-left block and a lower-right infiltration, and I'm crossing my eyes and ears that nobody walks in because my smile is reminiscent of a sweet elderly woman who has recently had a stroke. Excellent.
What makes things EVEN BETTER is that in less than two hours I'll be crowding up to a computer with my amazing ESL students, discussing their various uses of English grammar while I inadvertently drool all over their papers and they stare at me in some kind of trance, wondering why this American girl doesn't move half her face. I'll see the shock and horror in their eyes as they worry that perhaps it's a part of learning the English language that most of their teachers have forgotten to tell them.
And if all that wasn't good enough, I have the marvelous blessing of being able to teach myself a new skill: swallowing. That's right, folks, apparently my tongue has been partying away for the last 22 years and some-odd months (when do fetuses [feti? fetum?] develop tongues, anyway?). In any case, it doesn't do its job very well (bad tongue!) and the orthodontist's assistant struck the fear of wild rhinosceroses [rhinosceri? rhinocerum?] into me yesterday and sent me away with a happy little handout about how to swallow properly. I've been practicing ever since. Tongue-thrusting has me scared spitless (literally. It feels like I have cottonmouth from practicing so much).
So here's to a happy day full of drool and swallowing. Viva la Vida... I guess...
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Change
I see change all around me.
I see it in the blue of the sky and the heat rising up from the pavement. I see it in the feathers sprouting from the baby ducks at the pond. I see it in the strollers that the mothers push down the sidewalk, the face of a baby that's growing up all too fast, the laugh of a toddler that already knows too much about life, stay young, don't change, don't grow up.
I see it in the calendar pages, turned over each day almost mechanically, as life ticks on. I see it in the ring on my finger and the date on the wall, realizing it's been almost six months and wondering where the time went. I see it in the hole in my favorite jeans, the box of clothes for DI, the bricks of the high school I haven't stepped foot in for over four years. I see it in the face of a tall missionary who shouldn't be old enough to go, let alone to be soon coming home. I see it in the wedding announcements, the graduation announcements, the new baby announcements, and the obituaries. I hear it in the music on the radio and smell it in a coat of fresh paint and feel it in the rocks under my feet where there once was grass.
I see change whirling all around me, snatching familiarity and wafting it away, dangling it just past my fingertips before it disappears forever. I close my eyes and picture my life and open them and watch it change. I plead for it to just slow down, to let me rest and enjoy the comfortable, familiar moments for just a second longer, but change hurries on and I am left to find new familiarity in whatever follows in its wake.
And so I hold the hand of the one who will never leave and I watch change as it sweeps past, changing life, changing everything, changing us.
Viva la Vida.
I see it in the blue of the sky and the heat rising up from the pavement. I see it in the feathers sprouting from the baby ducks at the pond. I see it in the strollers that the mothers push down the sidewalk, the face of a baby that's growing up all too fast, the laugh of a toddler that already knows too much about life, stay young, don't change, don't grow up.
I see it in the calendar pages, turned over each day almost mechanically, as life ticks on. I see it in the ring on my finger and the date on the wall, realizing it's been almost six months and wondering where the time went. I see it in the hole in my favorite jeans, the box of clothes for DI, the bricks of the high school I haven't stepped foot in for over four years. I see it in the face of a tall missionary who shouldn't be old enough to go, let alone to be soon coming home. I see it in the wedding announcements, the graduation announcements, the new baby announcements, and the obituaries. I hear it in the music on the radio and smell it in a coat of fresh paint and feel it in the rocks under my feet where there once was grass.
I see change whirling all around me, snatching familiarity and wafting it away, dangling it just past my fingertips before it disappears forever. I close my eyes and picture my life and open them and watch it change. I plead for it to just slow down, to let me rest and enjoy the comfortable, familiar moments for just a second longer, but change hurries on and I am left to find new familiarity in whatever follows in its wake.
And so I hold the hand of the one who will never leave and I watch change as it sweeps past, changing life, changing everything, changing us.
Viva la Vida.
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