So tie up the bow, take off your coat, and take a look around

Pic is completely unrelated to my post; I just don't have very many photos saved to my laptop. This was Mothers Day 2016.

A few years ago I read an article comparing the biggest social media networks at the time--Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram--and the author posited that Instagram was the nicest place to be online because users couldn't repost and couldn't post links, so everything was an original thought. I spent a few minutes looking for the article just now but couldn't conjure it up. I think it was from Wired magazine.

This was before Instagram Stories existed, before "verified" users could post links in their stories, before third-party apps made it easy to re-post someone else's thoughts to your feed or to your story. And I have to say, I do think Instagram was a nicer place to be before it became more Facebooky. I mean I know that FB owns IG, but by and large IG remained its own "thing" for quite a few years. Then it added Stories, ostensibly to become more like Snapchat, and now there's this Reels feature, which seems a lot like TikTok; but I really think that the re-posting and linking are dragging me down the most.

I was telling my family at dinner today that I had deleted Instagram. Theo asked why I delete it so often (he knows that I delete it every few months, for a few days or a few weeks at a time). I told him I get overloaded and I'm not sure how to calibrate my consumption (or my posting), so I just delete the app entirely until I feel ready to face the overload again. It seems like a silly solution when I write it out like that. But I remember hearing from Gretchen Rubin (one of my fave self-helpers) about this concept of "Moderators" and "Abstainers." I am 100% an Abstainer. I can give anything up cold turkey. Rarely do I give anything up forever, but I can go on long jags of "not doing this" or "not eating that." I've done it since I was a kid, just for kicks. Being a lifelong teetotaler may have contributed to that tendency to relish in complete separation from a vice. Having a mild form of OCD may also have contributed. Moderating is a LOT harder for me, though. I'm not sure exactly why.

Anyway, so I told the fam that the tipping point this time was when I looked at my Screen Time app and was shocked by the number of hours I had spent on Instagram during the previous week. (Don't ask, because I won't tell you. It's way too embarrassing.) I theorized that a good chunk of that time was following links and going down rabbit holes. Matt wondered if I follow too many people on Instagram. I immediately concurred that yes, I definitely do.

And so within a few hours, I had downloaded Instagram again, with the intent of ruthless culling. (Because OCD.) Within about 15 minutes I had removed 150ish accounts. Most of these were people I had never met, many of whom post links that send me down rabbit holes. Some of them were people I know but that had already unfollowed me, most likely because of my posts about politics or racial justice, I'm guessing. If you read this blog, by the way, it's very UN-likely that I've unfollowed you on Instagram. I don't think I've ever unfollowed someone who didn't unfollow me first, and if I did, it was accidental.

So I feel like every few months or however frequently, I come back to the blog, because I realize that's where I can express myself best. In more than a few sentences, and in a place that people have purposely gone to see what I have to say. I've been writing my nonsense here for 18 years now. 18 years! Some of it has been nice. Some of it has maybe been challenging or controversial. So: for any random person scrolling through Instagram expecting it to be a "nice place to be," being interrupted by strong opinions about unpleasant topics is, well, grounds for unfollowing. It's tricky to mix politics and friendship.

And it's not like I'm never going to post about politics or racial justice again. I definitely will. And I will continue to write about it here, and I will continue to talk about it with my people. I just need to take a break from putting myself out there quite so frequently and so visibly on the Gram. I am always looking for a balance. I'll let you know if I ever find it.

Thanks for a new chapter.

Ida gave me this list the other day. Because... if you haven't guessed or haven't heard... we are expecting a new baby sometime around Mothers Day. I would especially love for it to arrive on Mothers Day, mainly because I think 5-10-15 would be an awesome birthday.

The kids are thrilled and they all talk about it every day. What it's doing, how big it is now, how it gets its air and food, where it will be born, how old everyone will be in May, how big I personally will get by May (an especially popular topic). 

Matt and I are thrilled too and so, so thankful for such a gift. This will put our kids at two, three, and four years apart, which I think is pretty cool. As to whether this will complete our family, I think probably yes, but maybe check back with us in five years. Ha!

Ida wants a sister but is also content with the prospect of being the extra-special only girl. I asked Theo his preference the other day and after giving it some thought he shrugged and answered, "Either way would be good!" Yep, either way we've got a busy, happy home ready and waiting for this little one.

Kids these days.

I was officially released last week as the Primary music leader. Well, I guess not *officially*, since tomorrow is the Primary program, but mostly officially. After the program is over at noon, I'll really be done.

My kind bishop called me in about a month ago to tell me I'd be released after the program. I am so grateful he did that. It gave me time to get used to it, wrap up loose ends and finish up the way I wanted to. We had talked about it a few times over the years and he knew how much I loved being in the Primary. 

I will never forget the 5 years I've spent in this calling. I didn't know when I started how much I would really learn. And it wasn't from things I did or training meetings I went to--it was from the kids. 

I actually learned a lot about being a mom from doing this for 5 years. My own kids were babies when I started--Theo was 2, and Ida was 8 months. I didn't know how in the heck to connect with the 3-to-11-year-olds I was now in charge of teaching each week. I watched the kids and how sweet they were and how obedient (or not) they were and how funny they were, and I observed their interactions with their parents and teachers and took lots of mental notes.

(And honestly I am now feeling the same trepidation because my new calling is Beehive adviser, which is teaching the 12-13-year-old girls, and I'm like--"Can someone please teach me about 12-13-year-old girls?? It's been a while since I was one!" I'm hoping for the same inspiration that came 5 years ago with Primary. :)

I learned about not giving in to stage fright and just going with it and having fun and pretending no other adults were there so I could make a fool of myself all I wanted.

I learned how to sing in front of 50 people. Alone. Repeatedly. Weekly. For 5 years. I can mostly sing on key but I'm not what you would call a "singer" at all. But I actually think I became a slightly better one after doing it all those times.

I learned how to move on when I messed up in front of a group (words or notes or people's names or answers to questions, or sometimes a plan just goes awry), just owning it and maybe suggesting to them how I would do better the next time, and demonstrating that everyone makes mistakes, all the time.

I learned about how to really connect with a kid by getting on his or her level, smiling and making eye contact over and over again and listening and genuinely wondering to myself how that kid's mind worked and asking follow-up questions and getting to know them.

I learned that I like teaching. A lot. Especially kids. I'm not sure how to translate that into other life pursuits other than being a mom, but maybe someday I will.

I learned a few things I thought I already understood but didn't: that I love children. And more importantly that the Savior loves them--no matter what they do. And I learned how innocent they are, and that they don't and can't "sin." They learn and forget and try again.

A year ago I gave a talk in sacrament meeting about teaching children and becoming like children. An excerpt which illustrates some of what I'm trying to share here--"allow myself to [quote] ... myself":

"If we want to teach a child--and this goes for everyone, regardless of whether you work in Primary or not, or have kids at home or not--we need to understand where the kids are, and meet them there. Three-year-olds have trouble sitting still. Five-year-olds push sometimes. Ten-year-olds cry sometimes. This is actually normal behavior for children. But a child's behavior, good or bad, is not actually who they are. It's a paradox actually, because on the one hand there's a common way of looking at kids like they're not technically citizens of society yet, which is wrong. They are citizens of society, with rights, and I believe they deserve the same respect that adults deserve. But on the other hand, they still have so much to learn. It's wrong to expect a child to act like an adult. 

"I think the answer to that paradox is that we can find out who they really are, and help them adjust their behavior, little by little, to reflect that inner beauty that is there in every single child in the world, regardless of whether they know anything about the gospel or not. The Savior's love for children is absolutely unconditional on their membership or activity in the Church--whether or not they attend Primary or even know He exists, He loves them. And it's our responsibility to love them too, to learn who they are, to start at the very least by learning their names. I know I'm guilty of shyness. I think it's a wonderful challenge to learn the names of a few children in the ward who don't belong to you. Try it out, and be sure to say hi to those children whenever you see them. Maybe they'll think you're just another weird grownup, which you are. But we can all be kind and friendly and help each other feel at home here, for all of us, kids and adults.

"Back to Jesus among the Nephites in the Book of Mormon. I love that He made such an effort to bring the children forward to the very front and make sure they did not miss the experience. I love that He spoke to every single one of them and looked into their faces. I believe that by implication, we are expected to do the same."

After our program rehearsal yesterday in the chapel, my dear friends in the Primary presidency gave me flowers and a gift and a gigantic card, and invited the kids (we have about 100 in our jr. and sr. Primary combined) to go give me a goodbye hug before they went home. I feel and have felt pretty loved in my life. But I'm not sure anything can quite compare to this sweet experience, as I was almost crushed by the force of the love from the kids in our ward. All 100 certainly weren't there, but there were several dozen. I don't think I've hugged that many people at a time since my wedding reception. My friend thoughtfully snuck a few pictures and sent them to me.*

I love kids. I just love them. I mean--they're so annoying, right? Sometimes. And sometimes they drive me crazy. But they're worth every second of craziness. The pure love and joy they have to offer makes it just so worth it to love them in return. Serving in Primary for the first time (hopefully the first time of many times still to come), particularly in our big and transient ward population, where hundreds of kids have moved in and out of Primary in the past 5 years, was a watershed experience for me. I promise I'm not exaggerating when I say I'll never be the same, and I mean that in the best way possible.

*I blurred the photos a little, since they're not my kids. :)

The big year

Last day of school tomorrow! 

I've been so impressed with Theo's and Ida's teachers this year and I have actually learned a lot from them myself. It's weird to be so new at this; whenever I feel like I have been a parent for a while and I might have a rhythm going, something pops up to remind me that I don't know what the heck I'm doing. But I have many guiding influences, including wonderful teachers. 

This has been a big year for my "big kids." (9 months ago was Theo's first day of kindergarten and Ida's first day of preschool.) Both have learned to read and write. Both have gotten a little better at relating to others. When Ida started school in the fall, she refused to talk to anyone other than immediate family members. Now she chats up everyone in the supermarket line. (mixed feelings about that!) Theo has had some ups and downs since change is hard for him and there's a lot of change throughout kindergarten. But he has learned so much.

We will definitely miss these ladies this summer and next year. The bar has started out pretty high.

Thank you to all the wonderful teachers out there watching over the world's kids each day, keeping them safe, opening their minds, and helping to prepare them for what lies ahead. I have to say, the future looks bright from here.

Follow-up

I had a few emails and questions about my last post--all of which were so nice, thank you--and so here is a patched-together response and follow-up.

When I took Theo in to ChildFind, back when he was barely 3 and he had all that testing--this is back when he was doing stuff like lining up colored blocks at home in complicated symmetrical patterns, and memorizing every country on the world map, and not talking at all except to repeat what he heard; pretty textbook actually!--it was all inconclusive as far as autism, although I asked about it. The conclusion was "developmental delay." Maybe some teachers/therapists/social workers/etc. in the public system are sometimes sort of reluctant to use "the A word"? Or reluctant to bring up something that is typically a medical diagnosis? I don't know. I asked my pediatrician many times and she was unconcerned. He defies many of the visible symptoms, and then in some areas he's so textbook, and then in some areas he only has "a touch of the aut," as a psychologist so delicately put it once, referring to her theory that everyone in the world has at least "a touch of the aut."

Then again, I don't know that approaching it with a diagnosis several years ago would have particularly made a difference, for him or for us. I guess maybe we would have started socialization therapy sooner? That's the main change we are making.

Matt and I were talking about this yesterday because it can seem like such a sensitive topic but then it's also not. I mean, I guess I'm technically "sensitive" about it because it's dear to me, but I'm not afraid to talk about it. When I cry about it, it's a combination of the relief and gratitude about sitting in a meeting with 8 public school professionals who are all awesome and whom I believe would take a bullet for their kids (don't think I'll ever get over Sandy Hook, over here), plus the stress about the logistics: "How to Prevent Theo From Pinching People in the Arm." Etc. Then, at the same time I am not planning to label him as "autistic" or "on the spectrum" in day-to-day conversation, if that makes sense. "Yes, Well, Theo's On the Spectrum." "Theo's Got A Touch of the Aut." I think it's important for people in his life to understand it so they're prepared if he loses his temper--family, school teachers, Primary teachers, our own friends. Many of whom read this blog. I think it's important especially for Matt and me to understand it.

I guess that's why I felt like a blog post was a good balance of "this is a big deal" and "this isn't that big of a deal." I don't want to make it seem like some really major hardship to those who are unfamiliar. And the psychologist's initial suggestion a few months ago wasn't a surprise to anyone, but it took several years to get to this point--of having someone suggest it to me, rather than me suggest it to someone and be basically waved off. Theo is healthy. He has a big appetite and will try almost any food. He pretty much does everything for himself, makes himself lunch and takes showers and gets dressed and folds his clothes and takes out the trash and puts away his stuff. He can't put on a pair of gloves to save his life (pretty low muscle tone). Mittens! He sits quietly and participates in Primary. (mostly.) He can carry on a conversation. (mostly.) He likes to hug. He is very sweet. He has learned how to play pretend--something he didn't really know how to do until almost kindergarten. He can read and write and follow directions and do all his academic work. Then of course on the flip side his temper can be dangerous if you try to cross him where he's most rigid, and he just plain doesn't know how to play with other kids who don't truly know him and understand how he works.

One study I read, which was admittedly 2009 so it's not the most cutting edge, was addressing the rise of autism diagnoses. It indicated that half of children whose parents reported them as autistic, had only "mild" symptoms. And a sizable percentage of those children, after however many years passed, were no longer reported as being on the autism spectrum. I have no idea whether there are more severe actual cases of autism spectrum disorder than there used to be (vaccines! red dye #40! synthetic pillows!)(I made the synthetic pillows one up, but come to think of it that is an infliction of the worst order). But at least in part, the rise in reported cases seems somewhat reflective of kids who in past generations might have just been "kinda weird," whose parents are trying to help them and then actually succeeding in some way.

I hope that with help, Theo will head away from an awkward and potentially tragic path, toward a slightly less awkward, and non-tragic one. It goes against my own instincts as a parent to be so involved with things like his socialization, maybe because of the way I was parented, and I naturally gravitate to that "figure it out yourself" mentality in almost every aspect of mothering. But he is unique and will need more help than our other kids, at least in this area, and they may need more help than he does in other areas. Sheesh, they don't include any of this stuff at the hospital when you get the free information packets shoved into your free nylon diaper bag with the free cans of baby formula. (baby formula!)

T-dog

 

Theo was the easiest, calmest, quietest baby and toddler--like almost to the point where we were like, "What is with this kid sitting still for 3 hours at church?" Eventually it developed that he was unable to talk beyond a few words, and he finally started talking in tentative, choppy sentences when he was an older 3, 4ish years old. 

Around his third birthday he started getting services from the public school system as part of his "developmental delay." He eventually went daily to a public special ed preschool, which we loved. He went into mainstream kindergarten and after six months of testing and talking and observing: although he doesn't have a medical diagnosis, the paperwork for the services he gets at the school is now labeled "Autism." That probably wouldn't surprise anyone who really knows Theo. His pediatrician has never said anything about autism but she sees him once a year for about 10 minutes. I think the school psychologist, social worker, guidance counselor, principal, special ed teacher, and regular ed teacher that all know him and talk to him every day, probably have a better idea. 

When I first met with the psychologist several weeks ago and she sort of "broke the news" to me about the recommended new label of autism, I felt complete relief. Like finally there could be a reason for Theo's behavior other than my subpar parenting. Like finally I could stop breaking down in tears when his teacher told me about yet another "bad day." Fortunately, the professionals who work with him are just wonderful people, especially his teacher. She has even cried along with me before. I'm lucky enough to see her and chat with her every day when I pick him up from school. I'm lucky enough just to have her in Theo's life.

Anyway, I guess I just wanted to post about it once to put my thoughts out there, not make it into a huge deal because autism is this sort of fluid thing anyway, and he is really "high-functioning" (buzzword). The label is mainly for figuring out how we can best help him. I'm not interested in making it a label that I always say when describing him, for instance. There's a lot of interesting (to me) literature out there about "autism spectrum disorder" (which is what all autism-related disorders are about to be changed to officially by mental health pros), although most of the studies and articles I have read I can't link to here because I got to them through databases I use at work. 

We live in an area with wonderful benefits and services for school-aged kids and Theo goes to a really top-notch public school. We weren't even thinking about this kind of thing when we moved here seven years ago, and I feel like we hit the elementary-school lottery. I'm not saying he's reading chapter books or knows the times tables; I'm saying that here is a kid who doesn't know how to join in on games in the playground, or how to gulp and move on when the class has to go to an assembly instead of having P.E. But rather than being thrown into the deep end alone to have tantrums and get into fights, he has professionals who know who he is and are helping him figure out how to handle those seemingly minor things on his own in an appropriate way. There are a few things we will change about Theo's education and other activities, like structured social "practice," but nothing huge. He has none of the "stereotypy" (buzzword) like tiptoeing or arm-flapping or refusal to eat or other really obvious things that are a big disruption. Most visibly, he "perseverates" (buzzword) which is basically fixate/obsess. And he has a pretty tough time socially. We joke sometimes that all the tantrums and fights we deal with now are the ones we didn't have to deal with when he was a toddler. (yep. funny.)

Sometimes I wish we didn't have this to deal with, like maybe we could have some peace and quiet when Theo is home, maybe not be stressed about setting up playdates or wonder whether he is going to seriously hurt Ida if I leave them alone for a few minutes, or wonder whether he will find a friend on the playground or if he'll agonize over not connecting with anyone. (We used to wonder if he minded not being able to play with other kids at their level--now we know he minds.) Wonder whether one of us will have to drag him out of sacrament meeting as he makes a huge scene--something he never did as a baby; not surprisingly, it's unflattering on a 6-year-old and the kid is strong. He stayed home from school recently with pinkeye and he and I spent several hours together, just us. Any time I am alone with him he is so pleasant and really a joy to be around. I'm like, "This is the real Theo!" So, I also joke about how if he was an only child and I homeschooled him, life would just be peachy. I guess life would be peachy for everyone if they lived in a bubble and never had to deal with the unpredictable world.

Other times, I feel such complete peace that this is who Theo is. Not only that, but these are trials for Theo--not as much for us--that I really feel he will be blessed to overcome, or at least live with and learn from and have a very happy, normal life. He is so sensitive, so sweet, so contemplative. I get lost in his dreamy brown eyes. He has the best expression on his face when he tells me about something he is proud of. He drifts off and has to be redirected all the time but I like to think that it's a calm and easy world that he drifts off into. He and I get so angry at each other sometimes, but I think all five of us are trying to figure out what we need to do to have peace at home with each other and with ourselves. 

As I tell all of my kids, and should probably tell myself, when things aren't going someone's way and they want to know why, "Because you're part of a family." Having to adjust to someone else's needs sometimes--or all the time--is the price we all pay for the love and companionship that everyone receives in our home, simply by living there. I know I'm willing to pay it. Almost always! (But really always.)

Now that's news you can use.

Theo blogging, 2007

A couple of months ago I started thinking about making my blog public. Matt and I talked about it and decided it was a good idea. It is my blog, but Matt and our kids are featured prominently so he gets some say in it.

I proceeded to copy my archives to a separate place, then delete about half of them from here. Part of my wariness of having a public blog was the sheer amount of text that a machine like Google gets its robot-claws on, so I was glad to have that trimmed down. Plus...I was 18 when I started blogging. Yikes. No one needs to read that.

So finally a week or so ago I made it public, which Katie noticed. I thought about not saying anything at all about it (since the thought of an announcement seemed a little silly: "ATTENTION EVERYONE!") but then again, many blog readers prefer to use RSS. It is easy enough to go back to being private if I change my mind, because I have saved all the e-mail addresses of the people who logged in before. So I might do that someday, but so far, so good.

You might wonder why I made my blog private in the first place and why I decided to make it public again 3 years later. I have a few good reasons which I'm happy to go in depth with you about if you're interested, but the main one was that both times it felt like the right thing to do.

This post kind of feels like the scene from Wimbledon (a movie that I have seen multiple times for some reason) where Paul Bettany holds a press conference to announce his retirement from tennis and about 6 reporters show up. Obviously this is only a big deal for me, and most people won't care either way; but if you are RSS-happy, now you are one blog RSS-happier!

Now the challenge remains for me to think of interesting things to blog about. I'll get back to you on that one...maybe.

Shake it up

Big news and bigger news...a few shake-ups at Casa del S. By the way I hope "Shake it Up" is in your head now because it has been in my head for like a week now. Go ahead. Dance all night. Play all day.

So, on to the news. I decided to work a few hours a week for the next couple of months to help out at my old workplace as they prepare for a big facility move. Starting this week. We shall see what this brings. I am excited, and interested to find out how it goes--for me and for my family. I liked being a librarian. I still like it and am glad to keep that door open.

By the way, they contacted me. It wouldn't especially have occurred to me to contact them. But I'm glad it worked out the way it did. To respond to the questions "Are you crazy? Don't you have a baby coming soon?"--I should say first of all that yes, I am a little bit crazy and yes I do have a baby coming soon. Secondly, in this pregnancy if I am not busy then it seems I end up comatose on the couch. Sometimes crying for no reason at all. Busy is good.

Second piece of news, even bigger, even better: Matt decided to get a new job. Well, he decided that a long time ago actually, and it finally happened that a place where he wants to work, also wants to hire him. He has worked ridiculously hard for the past several years doing work that hasn't always been that enjoyable or rewarding. This is the biggest blessing we could ask for, and have asked for, for years now, and we are truly happy and thankful. And I am really excited for him too!

By the way I really do occasionally collapse on the couch and cry for no reason at all. (seriously hormones. SERIOUSLY. HORMONES, WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM.) Life is not perfect, but it is really good. My family is healthy and blessed. It has not been the easiest winter and I feel like spring is finally here in so many ways. I cannot wait--I cannot WAIT!!--to meet our new little baby in June. I am happy.

R.I.P. favorite shades.

After three solid years, my favorite sunglasses bit the dust on Saturday. BUMMER!

The best part, or maybe worst part, is that while I always expected that Theo or Ida would break them--because they were both obsessed with them and constantly stole them out of my bag--it wasn't them. I was the one who broke them. I was wearing them while driving and I reached up to adjust one side--snap! Not a clean snap either and not fixable. Luckily I had my Fake Ray Bans backup stowed in the car.

That is what I get for wearing $5 sunglasses from Forever 21, but you know what, expensive sunglasses break too.

What's also funny is that when I first bought these, I kind of hated them. I liked them OK in the store and then quickly realized they made me look like a bug. But, being incredibly comfortable, they slowly grew on me and soon I liked looking like a bug.

I am a sunglass junkie and I must have them on at all times when outside during the day, especially while driving, even on cloudy days. I have the Fake Ray Bans backup but they are crooked and I don't really like them anyway. I need some new ones. Maybe some real Ray Bans. No, I am sticking to the $5 kind. Where do you buy your sunglasses?

Pick a little, talk a little

In which I provide many definitions for those not familiar with the extensive vocabulary that comes with being Mormon (it can be confusing).

Our ward is changing boundaries next week--3 wards are turning into 4. For the uninitiated, LDS congregations, or wards, are divided geographically. Sometimes the geographic boundaries change, as when a ward becomes too small, or in our case, wards become too big. Because ours is a pretty social culture with a plethora of meetings, this can be a big deal if you have been in a ward for several years. (which we have not--only 3 years--but I still think it's a big deal.)

We are finding out details this coming Sunday but we learned about it last Sunday. An announcement like that is basically an invitation to speculate all week long. I love this kind of gossip because it doesn't hurt anyone's feelings (at least, I hope not) but it is still interesting. Where will we be? When will it happen? Matt says I am rumor-mongering...I suppose I am. I kind of want to start making up "facts" and spreading them around just to make things even more interesting. I kind of have already, actually, because I am almost convinced that my family will be placed in a totally different stake and I have mentioned that to a few people. This is the kind of rumor that Matt accuses me of mongering. Alas, the mongering goes on.

I am actually happy about the notion of making new friends, since many things will remain the same--joy school, the unofficial Relief Society listserv, play dates, running in to people at the grocery store or library; really not a ton will change anyway since I have gotten used to never talking to anyone at church outside of the Primary. I do feel slightly guilty about skipping our last quarterly Enrichment meeting. Theo will probably be confused about nursery at first, and sad if his favorite friends are missing.

But there's one really potentially sad thing--I wouldn't have believed it at the beginning of the summer when I was scared out of my wits at my new calling, but I am totally sad at the prospect of not being the Primary music leader anymore. Who would have thought? But it's a sad prospect. Especially after the kids were absolutely adorable in the Primary program 2 days ago. They did great. I LOVE our ward's Primary kids. I can't tell you how much they make me laugh and/or tear up. Even if I were still the music leader in whatever ward, I would miss whatever kids are missing.

Although I will miss some friends or many friends, since I am almost positive I will be split up from some or many of them--geographically we are at the very edge of the ward--I am not too worried about being completely left out--as in, all of my friends being in one ward and me being in another with a set of women who are already friends with each other. I figure (hope) that we will make friends wherever we are. Maybe that is bold of me, but it seems to have held true so far.

The number one thing, I have decided, that I am dreading: 1:00 church. What if the ward I am in meets at 11:00 for 2009, meaning it's assigned to 1:00 church for 2010? This would mean three years in a row of afternoon church (since 4 wards will be meeting in one building, as I understand it, the 4th ward will be meeting at 2:30). If we are assigned to a 1:00 ward for next year, I hope I can find the positives in that schedule. Because at the moment I can't really think of any.

I actually would love 3:00 church though...I mean compared to 1:00. Then little kids could still nap. I'm sure they took my opinion into consideration when drawing up new boundaries. Why wouldn't they?

Whatever, I'll be happy with whatever. I just wanted to talk about it some more...clearly I have nothing better to do.

One week from today it will all be over.

Do you know how many miles I have run this summer?

Me neither, because I never actually kept track. But I went about 4 days a week with increasing duration and frequency, sometimes pushing 80 pounds of children and stroller, the tires of which really need replacing. I have battled milk supply issues and learned how to take better care of my body and better manage my time. I have sacrificed hours and hours to run when I could have (maybe even should have) been doing other things.

I am noticeably stronger now than I was in May, having taken almost 3 years off from regular running until then. Today and last Saturday I went on 2 intense runs within about 6 hours and actually felt really great during the first leg and after both legs, although I felt not so great during the second leg on either day and am anticipating the same when I do it again.

And this Friday and Saturday at the DC Ragnar Relay I will be doing it again, only three times instead, including once at like 3 a.m., and not sleeping at all in between. I have learned that when I am doing relatively short runs like these (this summer I never went more than about 7 miles at a time--usually went between 3 and 6) I just need to make it through the first 1 or 2 miles and then I am fine. Last year when a group of my friends did this relay, I was 9 months pregnant and completely jealous. This year I am getting nervous and wondering what I was thinking.

Regardless of how this weekend goes, I am unbelievably happy when I think about what my body has helped me accomplish since September 2008--I pushed out a baby with my own body. I fed her with my own milk. I strengthened my body and spirit through daily work of one kind or another. I did many, many, many things that I did not want to do but that ultimately improved me. I am trying to enjoy my kids and husband more and love them more completely. I think (I hope) I am a better person than I was a year ago, maybe despite this summer's training and maybe helped along by it. I guess both.

Please wish me luck on Friday and especially on Saturday because I will NEED IT...and so will Ida. I have never spent the night away from her and I won't see her for about 30 hours. She still nurses 3 times a day. If you had asked me a month ago, I would have said she'd be completely weaned by now, but thanks to fenugreek and a melting heart I couldn't do it. I think I am more worried about my separation from her than anything.

Because, well, would you want to be apart from this angel?

She really is an angel. I will miss Theo too but, well, look, she's my baby, OK?!

But thanks to the stellar dad that is Matt I won't have to worry too much.

"You can do 192."

A break and a request.

(If you're not interested in my complaints, scroll to the bottom of this post for today's Reader Challenge! Reading between the whines, you might call it. )

(Oh heavens, I am my parents' daughter.)
Unfortunately, I need a short blogging break. Actually, I need a short break from a lot of things, but blogging is the easiest to let go of. Between sick kids, increased hours for Matt at work, increased hours for me at work...for which I'm NOT getting paid...yet (I say "yet" because the possibility of near-future payment is really the one thing that's keeping me hanging on here...barely...as much as I love the work), church callings, and welcome-to-summer! humidity, I have been letting go of many things that matter.

When I feel overwhelmed, my first stage is Denial. I find myself eating Frosties for lunch, leaving my scriptures completely untouched, starring every e-mail instead of responding, buying and selling strollers, staying up late watching movies, letting the garbage pile up until Matt finally takes it out himself because he can smell it when he walks in the house, and spending my nap times reading "tragic blogs" (as Matt calls them) instead of normal things I could do, like: taking a nap myself, or eating a normal lunch, or cleaning up this dump.

If you're worried about me, don't be. This post will show up on Tuesday but it's actually Monday and I'm writing this after taking Ida's temperature and, you got it, eating a Frosty for lunch. Things always look worse when people have fevers and my stomach is full of sugar. I have lots of pictures to post and stories to tell, so I'll be back on June 1. If you're bored until then, I won't recommend any tragic blogs for you, but instead I suggest eating a good meal for me. Then--

here's the important part of this post!--

leave a comment with your favorite healthy, yummy recipe. It can be a meal or a snack. Nutritious is good, fast is good, filling is good; please bless that your contribution has these three things. (Or at least one out of three.) I need menu-planning help and I need it now. I'll be checking back daily so you'd better have something tasty for me!

Oh and feel free to post as many recipes as you want! What should my comment goal be? Is 20 recipes too much to shoot for? What about 50? (probably kinda high.) Help me get there with just one recipe from your arsenal! I believe in you!

See you next week!

United 93

Perhaps fittingly for Memorial Day weekend (though not intentionally so), Matt and I watched United 93 on Friday night.


When this movie came out a few years ago I was reluctant to see it, despite overwhelmingly positive reviews. I thought it would (a) make me afraid to fly ever again (b) make me cry (c) be tasteless (d) be sappy (e) be too violent.

Surprisingly, not one of these fears came true for me. The tension in the first half of the film was almost too much to bear at times as oblivious plane passengers quietly talked to each other in the air and baffled air-traffic controllers tried to make sense of absolute chaos on the ground. The (very positive) New Yorker review pointed out that while most "Everyman heroism" films provoke a lump in your throat, in this one it's more like a knot in the pit of your stomach. At the end, I felt somewhat of a catharsis for the people on the plane. "I love you. I love you. I love you." repeated over and over as they phoned their dear ones at home, their last words to their husbands, wives, daughters, sons, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, before a group of them stormed the cockpit.

As Matt said, I don't know that I'll ever want to watch it again. It was really overwhelming at times. I shivered throughout the first half of it. A caveat: it's rated R for brief strong language and brief intense violence, probably mostly for "thematic material." Overall the movie is understated, very realistic, not sappy, and thought-provoking. Once Flight 93 is in the air, the movie plays out in real time. Real flight attendants and pilots acted in it, as well as little-known actors. Ben Sliney of the FAA and Major James Fox played themselves, as did a handful of other FAA and military personnel.

On this Memorial Day I am trying to remember to notice what's going on around me--both in the world and in my immediate environment; to be prepared for anything; and most of all to remember and learn from my own and others' past mistakes in order to live the best life possible.

Thanks today to everyone who has pursued and maintained freedom and peace in our country and around the world--whether by choice or by circumstance, a decorated general or a dedicated citizen, lauded or unnoticed, it all matters, and I am grateful for it.

Go, team!

So, as I mentioned yesterday, I signed up to run a relay race this fall. The one that I missed last year because I was great with child at the time. Now, finally! I'm in!

To refresh your memory, it's been--beep boop boop beep (calculator noise)--3 years and 2 pregnancies since I've run any kind of race. Yikes. But I am really looking forward to it. I've got my stroller. I've got my training schedule (which I started on Monday with 15 whole minutes of running. I am a champion!). Also, I've been reading the blog archives of my friends who ran it last year, so I've got the motivation/inspiration thing down too.

Now the 12 of us need a team name, so go ahead, put your thinking caps on. I know a good team name is all we need to catapult us to the top!

P.S. Tune in tomorrow for installment #3 of...Getting to Know You! featuring...Phoebe!

How many exclamation points can I use in one post!

Fixing what's not broken (yet)

Did I tell you about how I am ready for Ida to be sleeping somewhere that is not my room?

So last week we decided to try putting Theo in a twin bed to make room for Ida's crib. He is past the weight limit of his beloved, BELOVED Pack'n'Play, the mattress of which is totally thrashed, so I thought (hoped) that with a mesh rail and cozy sheets on the twin he would transfer okay. That lasted exactly one night. Well, until about 3 a.m., to be specific. Then, as I vowed amid the cries of various babies, "He can sleep in the Pack'n'Play until he's FOUR for all I care," Matt set the Pack'n'Play back up and Theo has been napping and sleeping peacefully in it ever since. That's what we get for fixing what wasn't broken.

It's not a question of keeping him confined, by the way, because he has demonstrated that he can climb in and out, but in general he chooses not to. What a silly kid. I think he's just really attached to that cozy little space.

If we really felt strongly about it I guess we could try to break his spirit over successive nights. But not only does he love the PnP with a fierce and abiding love; I already have one child waking me up at night and two is just too much. We'll try again in a while...maybe. What's the worst that could happen? Scoliosis?

By the way, I was talking with a friend about how Ida still wakes up at least once a night, usually twice. She called it the "dark secret," which I thought was funny. If you have ever had a child who woke up at night while your friends' children slept from 8 to 8, maybe you can identify. I sure can. Although I probably wouldn't elevate it to "dark secret" status for another several months. Actually I do kinda lie about it to my upstairs neighbor, whose formula for sleeping through the night is in a bottle mixed with rice cereal. But I think a three-month-old waking up at night is totally normal, even with the most structured days, and I challenge Gary Ezzo to prove otherwise. Right here, Gary, right now! Defensive! I know! But how I wish it weren't true.

So anyway, Ida...I am ready for her to move to Theo's room. But the only place to put her crib in his room would be right next to the twin bed, which would make it far too easy for Theo to get all up in Ida's business. He does it while we're awake, so why wouldn't he do it while we're asleep?

Oh man. Sleep. I tell ya.

But I may not tell ya if Theo really is sleeping in a Pack'n'Play every night at age 4. That would probably fall in the category of dark secret.

It's decided

I've decided that I am going to write a post a day if it kills me.

(And it just might.)

I made this goal partly to encourage myself to take more pictures, partly so that I don't completely lose My Readership (since heaven knows if a private/non-RSS-publishing blog stops posting for a week or two I won't check it again for at least a month), and those are the only two parts I can think of.

FYI.

Still sitting . . . still waiting.

This (and this and this) reminded me of a favorite passage that I am going to re-post in case you missed it last time. I was halfway through being pregnant with Theo before I really knew he was there. This time, thanks in part to some stretched-out muscles, I have been feeling the baby move for over a month now. And I'm not just thinking of this concept in terms of pregnancy, but also in spiritual, mental, emotional, even physical contexts; my relationships with my husband, my son, my family, my friends, my Heavenly Father, my "enemies" (not that I really have enemies but you know), my neighbors, my body, my vices, my virtues, my life, my future, my past. Sometimes I get too comfortable in my own little spot before I realize it's time for me to grow.

"Tita thought of the many times she had germinated kernels or seeds of rice, beans, or alfalfa, without giving any thought to how it felt for them to grow and change form so radically.

"Now she admired the way they opened their skin and allowed the water to penetrate them fully, until they were split asunder to make way for new life.

"She imagined the pride they felt as the tip of the first root emerged from inside of them, the humility with which they accepted the loss of their previous form, the bravery with which they showed the world their new leaves.

"Tita would love to be a simple seed."

-Laura Esquivel, Like Water for Chocolate

Turn and face the strange

I feel like I know a lot of people who exercise regularly throughout pregnancy. Pumping iron, downward dog, a brisk run in the morning, that kind of thing. I don't want to scoff at these people. I just want to know--how do you do it? Intellectually I understand that the more you exercise, the more you want to do it. But how do you even get started, let alone keep it up?

Before I got pregnant with Theo I was a machine. I was busy with work and school and church, but I jogged three times a week, cross-trained on the alternating days, and went for long runs on Saturdays. That perpetuated healthy eating and sleeping habits, which in turn propelled my desire to exercise.

And then, I got pregnant, and then I was sick, and then I was tired, and then I was huge, and in those nine months, although I did make dozens of half-hearted attempts, I never once broke a sweat intentionally and I ate a million percent of my daily allowance of sodium and sugar. I like to blame at least some of this on Pregnancy Insanity. Do you want to know what I was eating when I went into labor? Top Ramen. Gross! And do you know what I did with the half-eaten bowl of Top Ramen? I put it in the fridge so I could finish it when I got back. Sick.

Then for an entire year after that, I maybe, MAYBE went jogging once or twice a week and I never set foot in a gym. (Gyms are expensive here.) Granted, nursing burned a zillion calories a day, so there went that motivation. Plus I was doing all kinds of exercising just in my daily life taking care of a baby and then toddler.

My point is that even when I was a dedicated superwoman in the exercise department, the pregnancy that followed was almost completely exercise-free. So now that I am pregnant again and I haven't really exercised seriously since before Theo was a twinkle in my eye, I feel like it is a lost cause. But I have lofty goals: to exercise every day. Not to mention the fact that ever since 15 weeks I have prohibited myself from eating high-sodium packaged foods, and informed myself that I would be eating fruit or yogurt instead of candy or ice cream; vegetables with every meal; upping iron intake; remembering my vitamins. (These are guidelines...don't think I've given up ice cream or anything.) Not only do I feel better when I do all this stuff, I know that it is really the only path to take for a healthy pregnancy.

And yet, each day comes, and all I want to do is lie around, and all I want to eat is macaroni and cheese and pudding. Mainly because I still hate cooking. If I had a personal chef this would totally be a piece of cake. Oh and I never cared about this before but now all of a sudden when I'm not supposed to allow my body temperature above, what is it, 102, all I want to do besides lie around is take hot baths. Figure that one out.

The added pressure of wanting a VBAC and fully expecting another marathon labor is not helping. You would think it would help, but no, it doesn't. I know I need to be in good shape for that but it feels like a million years away.

Complaining about the "rules" for a healthy pregnancy is like complaining about the expectations for members of my church. My answer to those complaints is, "You're here because you want to be, not because you have to be. If you'll just do this stuff and focus on the big picture, you'll be happy." So, I am saying that to myself. I am pregnant because I want to be. If I just do this stuff and focus on the big picture, I'll feel better. It's not like macaroni and cheese is going to get me there.

Your blog is everywhere

One reader, Betsey, asked in a comment what kind of differences in traffic and comments I've seen since I made the switch to login-only a few weeks ago.

I had not actually looked yet, so I checked Sitemeter and Google Analytics and here's what I saw: There is a marked difference in traffic because I was getting a lot of traffic from search engines as well as lurkers. Looks like about a 50% decrease compared to January, which was a very high-traffic month and February's not over yet anyway, so really more like an average of 20% decrease when you look at the past 12 months.

Not surprisingly, based on the amount of traffic I got from Internet searches, lurkers, and even RSS feeds (I don't know about you but I am way less likely to comment on syndicated blogs), commenting hasn't changed much. Currently there are 98 of you who can log in. I'd actually like to do features of people who read the blog so you all can get to know each other if you want. I may start doing that in random posts. E-mail me if you don't want to be linked.

Which leads me to a confession, which is that I started a second blog a while ago thinking I would keep that one public and use this one for more personal stuff. I like having a "Web presence," especially since I want to go back to work in the future. This blog has helped me get more than one job, which is great. But, this blog also has way too much personal stuff on it that spans the past 6 years--stuff I don't especially want employers or prospective employers to read without my permission.

So, I actually started this new one last fall and promptly forgot about it, then went back to it again when I decided to go login-only. However, I haven't posted on it much--probably because no one knows about it yet and so no one reads it! I keep thinking I will make it public once there is some substantial stuff on there. But the reverse is probably more likely.

Who knows how much I will continue to post on it. I can't promise anything. It seems kind of weird to have 2 blogs. Maybe slightly less weird if I admit the fact that it is weird? In theory this new blog will cover a variety of topics of personal, professional, and maybe even political interest to me, and re-establish my presence on yon interweb. However, I feel like it is hard enough some days just to think up stuff to put on this blog, which already has readers. Either way, here it is in case you need one more blog to add to your feeds (this one is public and does publish a feed):

Everyone up on the peace train.

The header is in flux because I am still trying to get permission from Marimekko to use the image of people walking. Plus I am not totally in love with it anyway, or with the template.

Enjoy.

And please enjoy your Sunday. Personally I am experiencing a hangover of sorts from too much laziness yesterday. (3-hour nap? Matt and Theo did it too. 6 p.m. shower? At least I took one!) I may even go outside. It's cold but the sky is blue.

Your hair is everywhere.

I'm kind of obsessed with change. I mean minor changes that I personally control, such as rearranging my furniture or purchasing a Fall '07 wardrobe at the local thrift store.

Then again I also like big changes that don't come around as often, such as buying a new house or a car, moving to an exciting new city, switching to a fun new career, getting married, or having a baby. Inheriting a fortune or winning an election are also good.

I like change in clusters--whenever I move, for instance, I get new sheets for my bed.

I feel like I have seen this picture around the blog world a lot. I don't know what people google to find it but anyway I love this haircut. It reminds me of my niece Esme. You know as well as anyone that I am all talk but every few weeks or so I really get this itch to go pixie.


Then today at the grocery store (while I was buying All-New All-Bran Multi-Grain Crackers instead of Triscuits; also I bought a new calculator) a lady asked me where I got my hair cut and proceeded to write down all the salon info. She liked the 'do that much. Jess you have some new business coming your way.

I realized that my desire for a big chop can usually be traced to needing a trim. That is often change enough for me. Kind of like how I am satisfied with rearranging furniture, or more likely (less work) rotating the area rugs.