He Doesn't Even Know

At church on Sunday, my one-year old bent down to pick up a toy. His head was right below the hymnbook holder on the back of the bench in front of us. My husband quickly reached out and put his hand between the wooden holder and our son's head. Our son stood up and went right along with his playing without a second thought. Ryan looked at me and whispered, "He doesn't even know."

It really made me think. How often do we "not even know"? How often do we fail to notice the hand that's protecting us? How many times in a day or a week or a month am I helped, rescued, saved, guarded, or watched over - and I don't even know? When was the last time I sat down and really pondered on the near-constant stream of blessings that is mine every single day? How many times has my life been saved, saved from pain, sorrow, or even death, because I am worth it, and I am loved, and I am cared for?

I have been pondering on this all week long, and it occurs to me that being a child of Heavenly Father is so much more than I have ever considered before. As I make my journey through parenthood, learning and growing and observing along the way, I am constantly struck with the sheer number of times I save my children - from all sorts of dangerous, precarious - and sometimes hilarious - misfortunes. I am never too tired to jump up and catch him as he slides trustingly off the edge of the table. I am never too busy to pull him away from the "poky bushes." I am never too frustrated to give a hug in a moment of overwhelmed sorrow. I'm not a perfect parent, and I can't catch everything. Plus, sometimes I have to also recognize that saving them means allowing them to experience a minor struggle in order to learn. But I am constantly watching them, waiting ready to save them again.

On this Easter weekend, I simply want to add my witness to so many others that God is our loving, eternal, Heavenly Father. He knows us. He loves us. He is our parent, and we are His children. That love that I feel for my boys every single day is but a tiny glimpse of the love He feels for me, and for you, and for all of us. I am so grateful to Him for providing a Savior for me, who suffered and died so that I could live my life, learning and growing and many times not even knowing all the ways that He has saved me. He lives, and because He lives, I can live, too.

Used to Be

Used to be.
What does that even mean? We say it all the time.
I used to be thinner.
I used to be more exciting.
I used to be popular.
I used to be the life of the party.
I used to be a more regular blogger.
I used to be different.

What does that say about us now, if our thoughts are full of used to bes? Does talking about what we used to be diminish what we have become? Do we do it because we feel inadequate in what we are now and there's some kind of unspoken requirement that we reminisce on what we used to be? If that's the case then it's sure ironic, because all you have to do is log in to Facebook and you're almost guaranteed to run into some stock photo of a beach or a sunset or a river that has some cute quote plastered on it about becoming something better every new day or something cheesy like that. And yet everyone's still so focused on what they used to be and how great they were back then that it seems to be a common struggle to accept who we are now and learn to be happy with it, even when it's not exactly who we expected to find at this point in our lives.

I used to be different, too. Pinning down exactly who and what I used to be is difficult - because here's the challenge: nobody remembers perfectly. Certain moments stand out like trees on a distant horizon, and that's really all we remember. We forget much of the detail and remember only the highlights, which allow us to tint our "used to be" picture whatever shade we want. I could say I used to be happier and more exciting and more the life of the party and provide a convincing handful of examples, or I could tell you I used to be sad and lonely and depressed and provide just as many details.

Perhaps we're fixated on what we used to be for this very reason. We can manipulate it to make us look as good or as bad as we want, and nobody's the wiser.

Maybe that's why it's so hard to accept the who we are right now. We can't paint a rosy picture for everyone around us by blurring the details, because they see them, every minute of every day. They know the real us, right here, right now.

Who are we really?
Did I used to be a nicer, happier, gentler, more content person?
Or have I only successfully convinced myself that I was, and in reality I had just as many ups and downs as I ever have?
Is there really any productive point in comparing my here and now self with the self that I used to be?
Or is that a cleverly disguised way of denying the power of the Atonement in my life by continually dragging up the past in order to cloud or brighten the present - artificially?

Maybe it would be better to forget the used to bes and simply concentrate on the here and right nows.

Here and right now I'm not the life of the party. I'm not exciting, and I'm not always happy and bubbly. I stress over things too much and let it affect my mood for days or weeks. I'm not very confident or faith-filled.

But I can sit and blow bubbles on the porch with my toddler. I teach Relief Society lessons that people claim to like and feel like I do a good job with them. I make friends with people I never expected and have random conversations that end up making a difference to people. Sometimes I make jokes that make people laugh,

Maybe that's enough, for now.

Viva la Vida.

Looking Up

Sometimes you're the windshield; sometimes you're the bug.

After a long, difficult summer of often feeling like the bug - I'm ready to be the windshield. For many days now I've started the day determined to change things, to be the windshield again and start making things different. Every night I feel like I crawl into bed defeated. I suppose it's good that every day I try again, because I know that change isn't easy and it takes time. But the disappointment that comes when I head into a situation determined to be different and then find that I'm just not strong enough yet is almost too great to bear. 

I gave a relief society lesson about a year ago that I felt strongly impressed to give. I discussed with the sisters the times that we feel ourselves being beaten down by the winds of life, the adversary, consequences of sin, etc. I challenged every sister to go home and write down her testimony, with the help of the Spirit. Then I challenged them to hold onto that testimony for dear life, to treasure it, and to go back and cling to it in times of difficulty. We ended watching the Mormon Message by Elder Holland, in which he says the following:

"Don’t give up. Don’t you quit. You keep walking. You keep trying. There is help and happiness ahead—a lot of it. It will be all right in the end. Trust God and believe in good things to come. Some blessings come soon, some come late, and some don’t come until heaven; but for those who embrace the gospel of Jesus Christ, they come."

There was hardly a dry eye at the end of the lesson. We all felt the Spirit so powerfully. But I didn't take the challenge. I was good, I thought. I had it all together. I was the one who gave the lesson, the challenge was meant for those I was teaching, not for me. I was wrong, and there have been many days since then that I have truly regretted not writing down my feelings that day. Fortunately, Elder Holland was right. There are so very many good things to come. Blessings await those who are faithful to the Lord. I know from my past experience that things always get better, and that the times where we feel like the bug on the windshield do pass. It just takes time. 

I am so very grateful to be a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I have a wonderful husband, a sweet son, loving parents and in-laws and extended family. I have so many blessings in my life, and those are the things I treasure, even on days where I feel like things will never turn around. Life is truly wonderful, even though it is filled with challenges. 

Viva la Vida.

My Best Self

I really like reading Al Fox's stuff - whenever someone shares it on Facebook. I liked this post a lot today - as I sit here with wet, thick, kinky hair feeling frustrated that looking fabulous takes more time than I have - well, seeing this post was timely.

#myworth #imatter

Daffodil Flashback

I ran across this poem today and couldn't help but chuckle. I wrote it when my awesome coworker was learning the poem "Daffodils" by William Wordsworth, and she would recite it over...and over...and over...and over... It still makes me laugh. If anyone knows of a parody-to-famous-poetry contest in which I could enter it, please let me know :)

Daffodils - by William Wordsworth
as adapted by Jen Parks

I wandered lonely as a clown
That stumbles along on crazy stilts
When all at once I saw a crowd
A host of angry daffodils.
Beside the wall, upon the rocks
Shouting and yelling at a fox.

Continuous as the taxis roll
And honk upon the motorway,
They marched and pushed a bouncy ball
Along their hot and angry way.
Ten thousand saw I at a glance
Raising their spears in Spartan dance.

The grass beside them withered brown
They pierced the leaves upon the ground.
A poet can’t help but be afraid 
Of such a fearsome flower brigade.
I stared in fright, and every thought
Was on escaping from this lot.

For oft, when in my bed I lie
Shaking with terror from the sight,
They flash upon that inward eye,
Remind me oft of all my fright.
And then my heart with terror fills
And runs, screaming, from the daffodils. 

New Year's resolutions

I've always thought New Year's resolutions were a little silly. For one, nobody ever sticks to them. Secondly, it comes right after the holidays in the middle of the winter (if you live in the northern hemisphere) and it's not much of a time to feel motivated to start a fresh new perspective on life. However, most years I make resolutions, if for no other reason than that I like setting goals. I do it all the time and hardly ever achieve them. Why not do it again on January 1st?

I can't promise I won't make more resolutions on January 1st, 2014. However, after watching General Conference this weekend, I decided this was a good time to set some goals. So I did. And I'm hoping they change my life a little bit. I'm kind of in a rut, and I'm not as happy as I could be. I feel like since I graduated and lost my job and started working from home, I'm not progressing in life as much as I could be. There's not really any reason I shouldn't be progressing. I don't have to be attending college classes to better myself. After all, "lifelong learning and service" is one of the AIMS of my BYU education - and if I can't figure out how to do do that, I missed something very important in the five years I spent going to class.

So here's hoping for a fresh start on October 7th - that the upcoming year and years will be better, more fulfilling, and happier. I don't expect they'll be perfect - life here never is - but maybe they'll be a little brighter and I'll be just a little bit better. After all, that's the point of being here in this mortal life in the first place - to continually progress toward the perfection our Father in Heaven knows we can achieve.

Viva la Vida.

Viva la Vida - today and always

Viva la Vida - I started this blog over three years ago.

It's documented a lot of hard work, thoughts, dreams, hopes, and life changes, not the least of which was getting married and starting out on another journey that was different from anything I'd ever experienced.

And yet, through all the life changes and exciting events, I still keep going back to the title that I chose on a whim. I can't even remember when I chose it, I just remember I picked it one day and it stuck. Viva la Vida. Live the live. Live my life. Not his life or her life or the life I wish I had or the life I used to have. My life. The one I'm living in right now, at this very moment, the one where my heart is beating, keeping me alive, keeping me living here, right now.

It's so easy to miss that. So easy to fall into the trap of living a past life, or a different life, choosing to ignore the moments that don't fit, like puzzle pieces that you can't find quite where they go. I have some of those. But hiding the puzzle pieces, or pretending they don't exist - it leaves you with an empty, half-complete puzzle, staring at the bits of what might have been.

So viva la vida. The good and the bad. The easy and the hard. Viva la vida even while life is a whirlwind of change and you haven't any idea what's ahead or how to possibly find success, or peace, or even happiness. Live it. Don't give up on it. Just live it. It's your life to live, to make the most of every moment, because each moment is a gift from an all-knowing, all-loving Father, who knows what He's doing.

Viva la Vida.

Back to December

 Vivre la Vie - December, 2012.

Restless Energy

Wake up.
4 a.m.
Sleep.
Wake.
Sleep.
Sleep.
Alarm.
Awake...
Snooze.
Awake...
Sleep.
Alarm.
Late.
Jump up.
Get ready.
Stress. Hurry. Walk fast.
Sit.
Stand up.
Sit.
Stare.
Sit.
Run to class.
Eat.
Sit.
Focus... what?
Sit.
Stare.
Tap pencil.
Sew.
Unpick.
Sew.
Unpick.
Tap foot.
Watch clock.
Mind wanders.
Walk home.
Sit.
Stare.
Eat.
Sit.
Walk around.
Sit.
Think.
Check phone.
Sit.
Think.
Sit.
Stare.

I'm going CRAZY! I can't focus on ANYTHING! My mind is just all over the place today for no apparent reason. Early onset insanity? Possibly.

Viva la... what? Oh yeah. Vida.

Discipleship

In my linguistics class, we've been talking about morphemes. Morphemes are the smallest unit of language that holds meaning. We often think of them as roots or suffixes or prefixes.

I've been wading through the New Testament in my personal scripture study the last few months. I love the four gospels, but Paul's words tend to wash right over my head. But one thing stood out to me as I was reading in the gospels. Christ refers to his followers as "disciples." According to the dictionary, a disciple is a follower, student, learner, apprentice, or pupil.

I have often wondered what it means to truly be a disciple of Christ. I think the answer to that question is a lifelong question. I don't expect to ever master the concept in this life. However, while contemplating morphemes the other day in class, I realized that "disciple" has the same root as the word "discipline." That means that the two words are related.

Isn't it true? Part of following Christ and being a disciple of Him is obeying his commandments - and all the commandments require discipline. It takes work and practice and self-control to emulate Him in all that we do. Those who practice an instrument or play a sport understand the discipline it takes to keep going even when it's hard, to do something over and over and over so many times until it becomes a habit, second nature, if you will. They understand the practical application of discipline in both body and mind to be able to keep going even when all you want to do is quit. Is it not the same with the gospel? Some habits are hard to break, and others are even harder to form - but, as the instrumentalists and the athletes can attest, once the task is mastered, the rewards far outweigh the pain and stress and difficulty and discipline it took to get there.

I know that's true. I know it's worth it. Sometimes, it takes an inhuman amount of discipline to keep doing everything I know I should. Sometimes it seems so much easier to quit, to stop trying to keep my temper in check, to keep getting up early to read my scriptures, to keep remembering the purpose of my fast, to keep working on myself as a person and trying to grow. But it is SO worth it. It's worth it every day when I kneel at my bedside and feel the incredible love of a Heavenly Father wrapping all around me, encouraging me to keep going. It's worth it when I stop and recognize the hundreds of blessings, both big and small, that are showered upon me in the most unexpected ways. It's worth it when I remember the promises made to me in blessings and in the temple, and knowing that someday, somehow, everything will be made right, that all the frustrating inconsistencies of this life will be resolved, that relationships will be made perfect, that loved ones will be cared for, and that no matter what, I can always access the love of a Heavenly Father, who is God, who knows me and loves me and supports my righteous efforts.

That's worth all the discipline in the world. Being a disciple is more than talking about following Christ. It's truly syncing my life with His and being like Him.

Viva la Vida.

What makes me HAPPY!

~* getting a new recipe I'm excited to try out

~* translating - even "boring" linguistics textbooks

~* my new job - it's addicting! I love emailing people and getting stuff done and stuff. awesome .

~* writing crazy high-school style blog posts with no capitalization, and being like, YEAH take THAT English teachers, I am not in an English class right now and I can do what I want with IMPROPER CAPITALIZATION! (why yes, I am in a rebellious mood at the moment, and this is how it comes out :)

~* my sisters-in-law . i am so very, very sad they all live so far away, except for the newlywed one . the wedding weekend was the best!

~* my new jeans - bought with said sisters-in-law - *see above *

~* my sewing class - just chillaxin' in the sewing lab making cute clothes 4 hours a week . cool.

~* hanging out at work and talking to my mom about all sorts of things

~* skiing - and going down adventurous hills (for me) and rocking at it .

~* stalking cute wedding pictures on facebook . people are so cute .

~* writing blogs that are NOTHING like my typical blog-writing style .

~* watching Ryan study and cheering insanely with him when he aces quizzes - and being home to do it .

~* watching Raising Hope (i know, it shouldn't make me laugh... but it does. man. the addiction power of tv.)

~* looking at pictures from Ryan's mission and remembering our awesome trip to visit it!

~*seeing the eiffel tower and being like, oh yeah, i went there . nbd .

~* pretending to translate my senior project while really listening to THIS:

I was born in the wrong decade.

Mamma Mia - Abba

Take a Chance - Abba

Our Mexican dance - the version that works :)

If you missed it... *shame on you* ...this is the Mexican dance that I was in for Christmas Around the World this past weekend. I love folk dance :) 

Bees and Seas

For several semesters -like six, or seven maybe - I've been chasing the elusive Dean's List semester. In my college, that means taking at least 14 credits and getting straight A's. I've come SO close on several occasions, but I always end up with that one class that comes in just under the A mark. (Of course, Ryan got one last winter without even trying... or caring... or even knowing what it is... It's still on our fridge, reminding me daily of my bad luck and lack of scholastic competence.)

This was going to be THE semester - since it's my last semester where I'll have at least 14 credits. However, I have that one professor whose tests are very applied and his lectures are very philosophical. I have that one class where the professor wants us to read his mind and who grades on an impossibly picky scale. I have that other class where there are outside required events that my schedule won't let me attend, and so I'm crossing my fingers that the teacher remembers that we talked about it and doesn't change their mind at the last second and dock my grade. I have that other one class where I keep thinking I'm doing great and then the test scores come in and I'm average, or worse.

All in all, it looks like my five-year-long goal of making the Dean's List might die with my April graduation, fly into the air with all the other caps, and disappear, never to be reached. Despite my best efforts, it might be a semester of B's and maybe even C's, and that elusive letter congratulating me on academic success and scholastic prowess probably won't ever appear on my doorstep.

Quitter

I'm not normally a quitter. I usually enjoy challenges and love the sense of accomplishment from overcoming something hard.

But when someone informs me the skill I most pride myself on in my job needs work because I sent an email that sounded rude, and then gives me remedial lessons in sending courteous emails, I feel like giving up.

When I go to class and find out I might fail, just like that, for missing a homework assignment I didn't feel comfortable doing, I feel like quitting.

When I rearrange the budget spreadsheet for the hundredth time and it still shows the same numbers, I want to quit.

When I discover an error in a spreadsheet that I worked and worked and worked on, I just want to give up.

When I open my planner and the millions of things I have to somehow accomplish swim in front of my eyes, and my head starts pounding and all I can think about is how I can't possibly get all of this done along with all the other things that I have to do, and then I arrive at home to more to-do lists and more things I'm failing in, and I look at that budget sheet and that April graduation date on the calendar and wonder for the millionth time what in the world I am going to do to make it all work out right... I just want to give up then. I want to crawl under the down comforter on our bed and hide between our shiny sheets and cover my head with a pillow and pretend the whole entire world doesn't exist and it's just me in my little dark cocoon and nobody can tell me what to do, when to do it, what time to be there, or that I'm doing a bad job at it, because inevitably something falls through the cracks and I can never please everybody, all at once, in everything I have to do, and if I can't please everybody, then I can't please myself, and maybe if I hide under the covers it will all go away and take care of itself and I can come out in a couple hundred years and everyone will have forgotten what a terrible failure I was at life in October 2012, and maybe they won't mind that I didn't know what to do after graduation, and they won't care that I sent an email that offended the secretaries, and they won't laugh at me for messing up spreadsheets all the time, and they'll smile and tell me that I'm doing a good job at life and maybe then I'll actually believe them because right now I really just don't. 

And that is why today I want so bad to be a quitter.

Fully Committed

Commitment: the act of committing, pledging, or engaging oneself (thank you, dictionary.com)

"There are so many people who promise so much, yet when the time comes for them to really do something and stop talking about it, they falter and fall away...So for all of us, the time to commit, to keep our covenants, to act, it now!"

This quote is from my awesome missionary younger brother-in-law. We've been friends for a while, and even before I married into the family he was an example to me - mostly because he is always so cheerful! Now, as he's coming to the end of his mission, he wrote home to say that one of the families he's been teaching for quite some time won't be baptized before he leaves. I'm sure that's an incredible disappointment to him - but instead of complaining about it, he turned the topic to commitment and continued to inspire me with his ability to glean a message from a disappointing situation.

Idea 1: Commitment. It's an interesting word we usually hear collocated with marriage. But once someone overcomes their "fear of commitment" and ties the knot, it seems the phrase disappears from the register. Apparently, in our society, the idea of commitment only extends as far as the altar and is then discarded and tossed away in favor of "be yourself" and "make sure they make you happy" and other trite, self-centered ideas. Isn't commitment something bigger than that? Isn't commitment about love, really?

Idea 2: Commitment in definition silently implies a sacrifice of some sort. If commitment is a pledge, it is a pledge to do or not do something. And that something will take away from other somethings, and therefore commitment involves doing one thing instead of another thing. Example. Commitment to daily personal scripture study involves a time sacrifice. Time is spent studying the scriptures in lieu of spending it somewhere else. That's about as basic as it gets.

Idea 3: Commitment is action. "There are so many people who promise so much, yet when the time comes for them to really do something and stop talking about it, they falter and fall away." One cannot be committed and do nothing - unless they are committed to doing whatever they want and nothing else. Then they can do nothing. But if one is committed to anything or anyone else, action is going to be required.

So.

Commitment = love + sacrifice + action.

The true measure of our commitment is the spirit with which we attempt to keep our commitments. Halfhearted "attempts" aren't good enough. Now is the time to be fully committed to the things we believe and the people we love. Trying isn't good enough, and neither is making excuses. Perfection doesn't come all in a day - but commitment can. The time to act is now.

Viva la Vida.

And thanks, John, for being the messenger for something I needed to hear.

Coming Full Circle: Viva la Vida

I had a really hard time choosing the name of my blog.

I think my first blog's name was something like My Amazing Adventures or something. That ended as I quickly realized I didn't have THAT many adventures and none of them were particularly amazing. So the title changed to Snoopy's Musings. That one stuck for quite some time. I like Snoopy, quite a bit actually, and "musings" fit the content of most of my posts pretty well. However, the time came to close the blog and start fresh, which I did. This time I called my blog Inside Out. I thought it was a nice metaphor for all my inside thoughts going outside, but most everyone else just didn't get it. My URL is even SnoopyInsideOut. I had high hopes for that title, but it didn't even last a month.

Sometime right around this blog-naming crisis, Coldplay released a new song that flooded the airwaves every fifteen minutes. Jon Schmidt even did a mix of it with Taylor Swift's hit Love Story, and that was how I truly fell in love with the song - titled Viva la Vida. I don't even know most of the words to the song, but the music and the feeling struck me somehow. I started thinking about "Viva la Vida" and what that might mean. Somehow the music and my musings on the phrase wound themselves into a framework for my life, how I wanted to approach it, how I wanted to live it, how I wanted to feel about it. They spun together a feeling of empowerment, of courage and bravery, mingled with a taste for adventure and a freedom to "live the life" that I truly wanted to live, unrestricted by personal fears or others' opinions. With not a little apprehension, I titled my blog Viva la Vida, as a personal reminder that I have determined to live my life deliberately, with purpose, boldly, bravely, and freely.

Since then, a lot of epiphanies have published themselves on Viva la Vida, and the name stuck. The blog lives up to its name in most respects - as an open space for me to share my success and failure at living the life. Great successes and epic failures have shared themselves on Viva la Vida. More successes than failures, granted, and I think the spirit of the phrase permeates my thoughts and decisions more than gets admitted on the blog - which, I suppose, should be deemed a success.

Now, however, is the time to admit a failure. Viva la Vida has a weakness - a kryptonite of sorts - and it's called change. It's easy to be bold and brave and adventurous in the things you do all the time. It's not so easy when your life is all different and you're faced with big changes that you don't know how to approach. Sadly, Viva la Vida has shrunk in fear at the sight of big words like GRADUATION and CAREER and even MARRIAGE to a small extent. Suddenly freedom is restricted by fear and faith is dissipating in a poof of Viva la Vida-colored dust. All at once the things that are familiar and comfortable and easy for me are drawing to a close, and I'm on a boat sailing toward a cliff that's the edge of college and the comfortably familiar life that envelops it, and I don't have any idea what to do when that bubble pops. And it's big and scary and I don't really feel bold or empowered or brave at all.

But.

Then, one day, I had an epiphany. Maybe it was today, but that's beside the point.


Viva la Vida is my personal way of making myself be strong. Viva la Vida is all about me, doing big things and accomplishing goals and being awesome all on my own. And therein lies Viva la Vida's weakness. I can't do it all on my own, and so Viva la Vida was doomed to fail from the very beginning.

Fortunately, I have help. Friends. Family. A sweet, supportive husband. And most of all, a Father in Heaven who can see what's going to happen when the bubble pops. Who is all-knowing, and all-powerful, and loves more perfectly than anyone else. Who cares deeply about me and my success, and who can help bring me closer to perfection than Viva la Vida ever could.

This quote is not by God, obviously, but it's by another of my favorite characters, and it reminds me always that I'm not alone:

If ever there is tomorrow when we're not together...there is something you must always remember. You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is, even if we're apart, I'll always be with you. - Winnie the Pooh.

So. Viva la Vida. Viva la Vida today, tomorrow, and always, even in the face of big, scary things - because Viva la Vida is powered by a source much stronger than my own will and determination. I walk in the footsteps of one who is much better, much smarter, and much more perfect than I, and He will never leave me to walk alone.

Viva la Vida.

Liebster Award

I don't usually do these things. But today I felt like doing one. So I did. Hope you enjoy!

 

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

 

The award is called the Liebster award. Liebster is a German word that means sweet, kind, nice, dear, beloved, lovely, valued and welcome. (Or so I've heard.)

*Jen's note: Google Translate says it means "dearest." Not that Google Translate is always perfect, but you never know...

Here are the rules:

1. Post 11 random facts about yourself. 

2. Answer 11 questions the tagger has asked you, and give 11 questions to the people you've tagged.

3. Choose 11 deserving bloggers (or as many as you can) and tag them in your post. (REMEMBER!! The people that you tage HAVE to have less than 200 followers).

3. Tell them you've tagged them. 

4. No tag backs.

5. Display this picture on your blog:

11 Random Facts About Me:

1. One of my aspirations in life is to ride a giraffe. Yes, I know this might be an uncomfortable ride. 

2. I'm super organized. Like OCD organized - and when I'm not organized, it drives me nuts.

3. I hate calling people. That awkward waiting time while it's ringing and your mouth is going all dry wondering what you're going to say...

4. I really enjoy the mountains, even though wildlife kinda scares me. 

5. I feel this ridiculous need to prove myself in everything, everywhere, all the time. 

6. I once did better on a music theory test than a bunch of aspiring music majors, even though I know nearly nothing about music theory. 

7. I love cooking, and wish I had more time to do it. 

8. I'm pretty obsessed with Psych. 

9. I think sibling relationships are fascinating (probably because I never had them) and can't wait to observe my kids interacting with each other. 

10. I hate getting up in the morning and often Ryan has to pull me out of bed.

11. I'm obsessed with making lists, and cute notepads are my shopping Achilles heel...

Questions Leah asked me:

1. Where are you sitting right now? Describe your surroundings.

On our bed. In our bedroom. With its cute color coordinated curtains and bed set that we bought with wedding gift money.
2. Do you still own something you've had since you were a child? If so, what is it?

Stuffed duck. He came to our wedding luncheon and gave a speech with my mom :)
3. Favorite crayon color?

Green. Although I used to truly love midnight blue.  It was perfect for coloring blue jeans and night skies.
4. When have you felt proud of yourself?

Lots of times. Mainly when I won senior all-around acapella first place at a clogging competition, or the time I made all-american in three categories, or the time when I canned beans and all the jars sealed, or the time when I had a whole conversation with my future mother-in-law and didn't say anything stupid, or the time I made the folk dance team... lots of times. 
5. What is your favorite physical feature about yourself? (And if you can't think of a favorite, then what do people compliment you on a lot?)

Um. I like my eyes. People don't really compliment me on physical features much... but I like my eyes, personally. 
6. What is something you know to be true? (Even if other people try and tell you it's not true)

Hogwarts is real and my letter got lost in the mail (I was supposed to be magical). 

7. Look at your i-tunes playlist. What is your most played song? (And no lying!) :)
8. Favorite vacation spot?

Daytona Beach, Florida
9. Favorite quote or scripture?

"Nothing great was ever achieved without enthusiasm." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

And John 14:27
10. What is something you always make sure to grab before you leave the house?

My keys. I've been locked out too many times. And my flash drive. That thing has half my life on it.
11. Favorite picture book?

Guess How Much I Love You by Sam McBratney

 

People I nominated:

Krystal at Cookiecrumb Musings

Kim at Kim & Darrell

Erica at Messerly Moments

McKenzi at You Are Loved

Now that I've nominated you, don't hesitate to pass on the Liebster award. And don't forget to answer my questions.

My questions for you:

1. What is your favorite childhood memory?

2. If you could choose any airport to have a layover in, which would it be and why?

3. What is your favorite book?

4. What do you do when you have a short 15 minute block of free time?

5. Have you ever collected anything? What?

6. What is the craziest place you've ever been?

7. What is in the trunk of your car (or if you don't have a car, what is at the bottom of your backpack?)

8. If you had to be an animal, what would you be and why?

9. What's the best prank you've ever played?

10. Who is your hero and why?

11. What do you think the perfect age is - and why?

Enjoy :)

Day Zero 12, 71, 56,

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.

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...

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.