Bailey loves football

Especially East High football. She sometimes sleeps through it, but at the Varsity game last night she was wide awake and anxious to show everyone around her the cute little skirt on her red pants. She loved staring at the stadium lights above us and just bounced on my lap for a good portion of the game.

Nectarines

I feel a little uninspired lately. Part of me is resisting this mold that I think others are expecting me to now fulfill as a mother. Or perhaps it's self-imposed. I want to be a wonderful mother. I just am not sure I'm ready to give in to having a total mom-blog. Nor does being a mother mean I no longer have the dreams I had before. I'm perfectly content to just stare at my baby all day long, to read to her, make her smile, kiss her, take her picture, and hope that she's happy. But I fear that my dreams of living an unordinary life, one of adventure, will seem muted and consequently ignored if I show any sign of them letting up.

(Also, I believe people are defined by the things they actually do, not things they say they will. So I don't like that the person I like to think of myself as, seems to now only exist in short periods of time.)

So I actually got mad at Tyler the other day for not eating some nectarines I bought. Ridiculous, I know, but it came out of a fear that our children will be resistant to trying new things. Caiden won't eat a nectarine when I suggest it for a snack, and I think that if maybe he saw his dad do it, he would. But they're both in the habit of only eating bananas or apples for fruit and whenever I come home with something different, I alone will eat it. After the discussion, Tyler agreed to eat various fruits.

Besides some of those feelings of confusion, I have to share some just a few amusing things.

I met April for lunch at a new restaurant recently. She arrived a few minutes before me and had already gotten her meal. When I brought mine to sit down at the table with her, we discovered we had ordered the exact same thing, same salad, same sandwich.

Instead of playing chess with his Shrek chess set, Caiden now lines them up as football teams and practices his plays. Shrek, as you might guess, is the team's Center because he's the biggest.

Bailey is getting pudgier and more adorable all the time. So of course I had to include a picture of my buta-chan (little pig).

Just like her Daddy

I think she looks just like Tyler but he says her smile is from my family. I'm leaving you to your own conclusions.

Prez Dispenser T-shirt

Yeah, I've seen plenty of funny campaign t-shirts in the last several months, Urban Outfitters seems to always have the best, but I saw this linked on the site www.iliketotallyloveit.com and had to post it.

Playing Dressup

As a kid, my sister and I used to like to play dress-up. This was always a little more fun at our friend Shelby's house because her dress-up clothes seemed more princess-like. But we had a small collection too and wore them out sufficiently I'm sure. I believe even the most tomboy of girls likes to dress up nice occasionally. I also believe that the less you do it the more fun it is, though now I wish I had more opportunities.

Saturday was my cousin's wedding at the Gallivan Center downtown. I knew it would be absolutely beautiful because I love the Gallivan Center. I've rode my bike through the fountains at night numerous times and watched movies from the grass there. I've enjoyed many outdoor concerts there during the summer and one very snowy concert there in the winter. One beautiful night I saw Arlo Guthrie perform and I sat on the edge of the little pool that is an ice rink in the winter, dangling my feet in and enjoying the performance.

So I knew it would be a great night for dressing up. Problematically, I'm not quite fitting into many of my old clothes so I had way more fun dressing Bailey up. At first I'd thought I'd be dressing her up all the time, changing hair bows, painting her face for the games, etc., but onesies and nighties quickly became the norm out of convenience. And of course, to me, she is irresistible as she is. Still, seeing her with her little bow and shiny bracelet make me want to do it more often. She is such a cutie!

Trailhead Tailgating

Not exactly the sport of the season, but I couldn't resist sharing this short list from Outside magazine, courtesy of my mother-in-law.

Here is the text:

Outside Etiquette
On Tailgating at the Trailhead
1. The time spent riding or hiking must be greater than that spent hanging out at the car.
2. If there's beer in the cold stream and you didn't put it there, leave it.
3. Car stereos are acceptable, unless you have a subwoofer or a blown speaker.
4. Joining a Hacky Sack circle is fine; owning a Hacky Sack is not.

Football Attempts a Coup

It would be easy to let Bailey totally hijack my blog, she is pretty much my entire life right now, but football is making its best attempt at a takeover.

Every Thursday afternoon we go to the East High sophomore games where Tyler coaches. Last year we also went to the varsity games on Friday nights because he helps out there too and those games are more exciting. Caiden particularly likes the varsity games because the concession stand is open at them. As you can imagine, for most kids, buying food or candy at the concession stand is more fun than actually watching the game.

Here are some recent conversations with Caiden at the games:

Caiden: "Do you like watching the sophomore games even though there's no food?"
Me: "Yes, I like watching the games. I come for the game, not the food. What about you?"
Caiden: "I like watching the games too, but sometimes I'm starving."
Me: "Even though we bring snacks or eat snacks before hand?"
Caiden: "We brought snacks?"
Me: "No, but today we had snacks after school before driving over here."
Caiden: "Oh."


Caiden: "What are cheerleaders even for?"
Me: "To get the crowd excited."
Caiden: "Well they're not making me excited."

Bailey doesn't care about the concessions, but she likes being outside and that's fun enough. She's also trying to quickly gain a few so she can start wearing her game outfit. She actually likes going to Caiden's games a bit more though because we don't have to sit on the bleachers and she can lay on a blanket on the grass. Admittedly though, she is the center of my attention at the games even though I love watching them and being there.

Testing the Big Bang

My favorite book read for a college course was probably "The Structure of Scientific Revolutions" by Thomas Kuhn, a Physics and Philosophy professor at UC Berkeley, Princeton, and finally, MIT. My class was Symbolic Anthropology at BYU. I littered the margins of that book with copious comments and notes, and I would love to take another look at it, but it too was damaged in our basement flood.

Generally I'm not a fan of hard sciences. I'm not even much of a fan of science fiction unless it somehow addresses the conflicting overlap between free agency and destiny which fascinates me. And of course, I'm crazy about the show LOST which does science fiction very well.

But I loved the book because it seemed to be more about how people think and make decisions than about scientific paradigms. He talked about how shifting paradigms is a decision made based on the new paradigm answering questions better than the last, but the decision is largely aesthetic, it is usually initially made within about 3 seconds.

Somehow reading this article about trying to re-create the Big Bang brought that book back to my mind. Apparently there is some concern that the experiment could cause some very negative effects, or even bring about the end of the world, but I don't see how the experiment could not be done once conceived. I am too much like Eve, or for a more modern example, like Clive Own in "Closer"--if we could know or understand, why wouldn't we want to? Regardless, it's being done tomorrow and I'm anxious about what we'll discover, even if it takes years for anything to come.

Two Weeks Later

I still am not convinced sometimes that Bailey is really mine. Mine to keep. To hold all that I want. She is so sweet. I wish I had more energy and didn't feel so disconnected from everything right now, but even when she's napping and I haven't held her for a few hours, I can't wait for her to wake up so that I can hold her again.

She is so responsive too! I can't wait to hear the things she'll say and watch the things she'll do, even though I'll miss her being a baby. She likes to be in the swing and she likes to be outside when it's not too bright for her to keep her eyes open. Naturally, she also loves to be up all night, despite my body language.

Today we had Bailey's first follow-up with her pediatrician and everything the doctor told me made me feel so proud. About what a good eater Bailey is and how healthy she seems to be growing, what good coloring her skin has and how alert she is. I can't take credit for these things, but it makes me feel proud.

Caiden clearly can't wait for her to grow up a little more. He is especially anxious to help feed her I think because he's persistent about asking why can't she use a sippy-cup yet and when can she? A few days in a row I explained that she doesn't have teeth yet, can only drink milk, my milk has all of her nutrients, etc. and that she can only suck. After a few days of that he came back with--"but can she drink milk out of a sippy-cup?" Yes, he's very persistent.

A Poem

I don't consider myself a big fan of poetry. The truth is I don't really know much poetry at all, but I get turned off by stuff that seems too sappy or too sugar-coated. Every once in a while I come across something that strikes me as truly honest, or raw in its approach. This one suits me perfectly right now.

New Mother
By Sharon Olds


A week after our child was born,
you cornered me in the spare room
and we sank down on the bed.
You kissed me and kissed me, my milk undid its
burning slip-knot through my nipples,
soaking my shirt. All week I had smelled of milk,
fresh milk, sour. I began to throb:
my sex had been torn easily as cloth by the
crown of her head, I'd been cut with a knife and
sewn, the stitches pulling at my skin--
and the first time you're broken, you don't know
you'll be healed again, better than before.
I lay in fear and blood and milk
while you kissed and kissed me, your lips hot and swollen
as a teen-age boy's, your sex dry and big,
all of you so tender, you hung over me,
over the nest of the stitches, over the
splitting and tearing, with the patience of someone who
finds a wounded animal in the woods
and stays with it, not leaving its side
until it is whole, until it can run again.

An Evil Walk

I was beginning to feel a bit like Boo Radley and decided Bailey and I would go for our first walk. We've been out every evening for Caiden's football practice and she really seems to enjoy it, but this time I wanted a little exercise. I really can't think of the last time it's been 7 whole days between some kind of exercise. On vacation I bring my jumprope or go running. I worked out the morning of my wedding and was last at the gym two days before Bailey was born. My guess would be that it has been about 8 or so years since I took a 7 day workout hiatus. Yes, I'm an addict.

I made Caiden come on the walk with us, and since he's not keen on sweating, and can be fairly over-dramatic, I thought all of his comments were laughable.

"Are you trying to hike across the whole valley?"
"Do you even know the way home?"
"I'm getting dehydrated."
"I need to turn around."
"Are you even sweating?"

When Caiden's friends came over to play later, he told them he'd been on a walk for "...like an hour and forty minutes."

I do feel kind of bad because it had to have been pretty boring for him, and it was hot, and we did sweat, and it was about 45 minutes. Still, I try to avoid being an evil stepmom. He wore his Heely's and glided a lot of the way so hopefully it wasn't complete torture for him.

Becoming Bailey's Mom

Bailey came on Tuesday morning. Just like her mom, she has to do things her own way, in her own time. And she likes to do things the hard way, she would never think of hitching a ride to the top and hiking down for fear of missing something on the way up. So she took her time.

She wanted to scrap all of the prepared methods: the playlist with Kate Bush's "This Woman's Work," the script for Daddy to read me about exploring Osaka on my own. She wanted to start in the middle of the night. She wanted her daddy to be a complete part of it too and I will never forget how wonderful it was to have him there for me.

Thank you Tyler for helping me prepare for this. Thank you for letting me collapse into your arms after each contraction and for stroking my hair. For wrapping me up in the middle of the night to walk me out to our hot tub and whispering encouragement in your every breath. For getting me to the hospital with all of my things and being my every support there still. Thank you for speaking for me, for knowing what I wanted. Thank you for practicing with me so that even though we didn't use everything we planned, I was able still to totally relax between contractions and have the birth I wanted for my baby.

I love being Bailey's mom. She is so beautiful and everyday is more beautiful than the last. I look forward to every future moment with her while I treasure each one I have now.

Half Court

This morning the HB and I are watching the Olympics basketball games. Maybe our baby girl will learn something in utero. She does plenty of athletics herself, usually around midnight. During a quick break they were showing how popular NBA stars are among the youth in China and I was reminded of playing basketball in Japan.

When I lived there I went to church at an LDS "branch" some 40 minutes from where I was living. The meetings were held in a rented building downtown where one floor became our church on Sundays. Occasionally, the church members would have a social get-together to play sports and socialize outside of church meetings. It was a very small group, and an even smaller group among us that would play sports when we did get together. There would be a handful of Japanese and then a few English teachers and a couple of missionaries. Apparently, Mormon missionaries have a rule that says they cannot play basketball full-court but can only play half-court games while on their missions. The LDS Branch President was very fond of basketball and would get very excited about these games. He didn't speak much English, but he would get a grand idea and say loudly, "okay okay, let's play, the Americans, versus the Japanese!" very dramatically as if that would make the game very very intense. The missionaries would always respond okay, but they can only play half-court. Finally the Branch President, tired of trying to fight the rules, suggested this: "You say half court like one half, two half" indicating a bisection in the court as it would normally be played. "But I say half court is one half, two half" and he demonstrated with his hands how "half-court" could mean playing only the middle portion of the entire length of court.

The missionaries were very faithful to their rules and we ended up playing the traditional half-court, but we laughed about the suggestion for weeks and how happy the idea of surreptitiously playing full court had made our Branch President.

Besides the Pink

Amidst baby shower, work party, birthing classes, and baby room preparing, you'd think my life is all awash in pink. I just want to tell my boys how much I love them though and how studly they are. Tyler's been working hard on basement repairs. The goal is to get Caiden off the couch and back into a room downstairs and then finish the rest up when the baby comes. Here's the HB post-insulation-installation into the walls downstairs.

Then Caiden started football on Saturday and last night was the first practice in full pads. He's been wearing the shoulder pads around the house for a week ever since we picked them up, but here he is in full practice gear (minus the helmet of course).

I love you guys!

Not so "Yummie"

Recently I read 2 articles that really got me thinking. One was about Yummies--that is Young, Urban, Mormons. The other was about black women's marriage rates rapid decline. The marriage article talked about how black women far outnumber black men who have gone to college. It talked about how their marriage partner choices were more limited because men in their demographic didn't meet their standards and though many of them wanted to be married, they are beginning to believe that marriage is only for white people.

I can't help but relate to how this is happening to Mormon women everywhere and that I believe there is a growing chasm between young women in the religion and other members. It seems that more and more young women in the future will be looking for relationships outside of it due to a lack of place for them within. I'm not talking just about marriage prospects or saying any of these women are clamoring for certain authority within the religion, I just don't think they have people to relate to or men their equals to partner with. (Please insert all disclaimers you can possibly imagine here--i.e. fulfilling marriages don't have to be between totally equal partners or matching demographics, etc. etc.--I recognize and value differences).

I was going off on this idea because I consider myself quite modern and extremely independent and because I see a need for change. However, it was when I shut my mouth and looked at my husband that I realized how ridiculous it must all seem when I'm sitting with him at the table, 9 months pregnant, barefoot, with salsa spattered all over my shirt. I am not Young, Urban, Mormon. I am a defender of individuality and independence, but in truth, I am traditional--I want to stay home with my children, I expect my husband to be a leader and role model for my family. But overall, I hope that together we can encourage our children to think for themselves and expect of themselves what they expect of others to have fulfilling and rewarding relationships.

Ode to "the Main"

Having recently moved from downtown Salt Lake City, I rode my bike to my new local library--a county branch. What followed were the most depressing moments of my weekend. The place was a crap-hole, tiny, and I imagined all of the guests there were pedophiles. I couldn't imagine finding a book I wanted to check out there because the selection seemed so small and I feared the books were all crap that I didn't want to read. The librarian reassured me that if they didn't have what I wanted they could certainly get it from another branch. But who goes to the library to only have to go home empty-handed and return on another date? I did however leave empty handed and promptly ordered a new read from Amazon. For now I'm going to keep up a visit to the downtown branch because the atmosphere there is so much more stimulating. Perhaps the library quality in the suburbs is why people don't read as much anymore? I certainly can't afford to buy all of my reading material on Amazon when I go through 3-4 books a month!

So here is a photo tribute to the "Main" library downtown in the city network of libraries. It's where I studied all during my graduate work because there my mind felt more free than in the campus library of plain walls, box rooms, and no windows. It's where I attended arts fests, lectures, went on walks, brought out-of-town visitors to see, browsed books, wrote papers, etc. Sometimes the HB would stop by and say hi to me when we were dating and I had lots of homework to work on. I love walking up the outside stairs and visiting the roof-top gardens. I also love the little children's play areas in the downstairs.

Paternity Envy

Yes I have paternity envy. Not what you'd think it to be exactly, not totally envious that he doesn't have to have swollen feet and difficulty breathing, but envy over his paternity leave. Why is it that I don't get 1 single paid day of leave while my husband gets 12 weeks paid leave? It's because they're giving him a week for every year he's been with the company and he's been there 10. Then, they're giving him 2 additional weeks if he agrees to come in a few times a week and make sure things are going smoothly since he is the only person in his position at work and the place can't quite run without him. As for my own lack of leave, I can only blame myself for switching jobs so often, but I can't help feeling there is something wrong with this picture.

Of course I'm excited for myself to quit working for a while--a few months off is what we've saved up for because I can't bear the thought of leaving my infant in day care so I can go to work. But somehow the HB's 3 month paternity leave still makes me jealous even though it's great for him. The truth is, I want him around to help and to be with me and hopefully we can find time to do some fun things together too during that leave. But with the notion of me not having to head out before him each morning (as it has been for the past 3 years), packing my gym bag the night before, I was imagining many mornings of him getting ready and me dragging him back to bed for some action, some slight protesting from him and then giving in fully to my desires. Of course this can happen while he's on his leave, but not in the same way I'd imagined. So now I just have to adjust the fantasy a bit.

Venetian Blinds Tee

This t-shirt actually has a string you can pull on for ventilation. Why don't they make it in maternity???

Othello Relaxation

In preparation for labor, I've been listening to a CD my sister-in-law lent me on hypnobirthing. There's a track called "Rainbow Relaxation" that's an exercise in visualization. The woman's voice talks you through each color of the rainbow so you can imagine yourself being wrapped in each color, floating on it, making love to it, whatever. I kind of like it, but it's almost too fluffy for me, like the idea of a heaven that's all clouds and angels, it sounds boring. Does relaxing have to be boring?


So I'm still listening to it, but in my mind I'm going through a theatrical adaptation I once saw of Othello. In high school I attended a drama convention where we got to see a series of plays or short plays done by the other high schools, one of which was this 20-minute adaptation of Othello. They didn't use the Shakespeare script, only the plot, and there was no speaking at all. They didn't really dance, but the entire thing was set to music and props were minimal. They had a black backdrop and in front of it on the floor several paint cans opened, each with a brush on top. Each color of paint represented a different character in the play--White was for Desdemona, Red for Othello, Green for Iago, and so forth. Each character also had a corresponding colored handkerchief they kept in their hands while on stage.

What made this adaptation beautiful was the solemnity of each stroke painted on the plain black backdrop. First we saw Desdemona paint half of a heart with the white, then Othello paint the complementary half in red. Then Iago comes onto the stage and paints a huge green streak right through the heart. And the play proceeds until at the end the backdrop is a mess of brightly painted lines, looking chaotic as paths were intersected, loyalties betrayed, and murders committed. And somehow, the whole thing is beautifully relaxing to me.

Touch Me I'm Going to Scream Pt. 2

My new favorite song, performed by My Morning Jacket on Conan

The Grace I want to Have

I recently finished another Ondaatje book, this one called "Divisadero." It was excellent. I was particularly touched by a certain passage about a parent's perspective. The father accidentally catches a glimpse of his daughter in the garden shower with someone other than her husband.


Cursed with omnipotence, he had seen the blunt truth of their romance. The girl he had carried in his arms during a childhood nightmare now had the needs of an adult.....There were nights when Lucien startled himself awake at his daughter’s wildness. How had she, the one daughter he had known as obedient and well mannered evolved into such a person? Was it simply that Pierre was the man she demanded above every other principle? There was this live coal of desire on her tongue that had altered her, so that she could no longer be sheltered by the husk of a family. And he realized he loved even more this proud indelible daughter, his Flammarion companion, who had leapt beyond him into the life of this dangerous stranger, a man he was unable to like except through the knowledge that Lucette had placed herself in the cup of his hand, just as she had bent over and moved back into his body, defenceless with pleasure in the garden shower.


I thought it was beautiful how the father was able to let go of any need to control his daughter and instead marvel at the woman she had become independent of him. There are a lot of things I want to emulate as a parent and a lot of ideals I have about the relationship I want with my children, but the one I want most is for them to feel loved rather than feel that rigid adherence to certain codes are more important than showing love. And I hope that I can admire their evolution into themselves as much as it might be different than I'd hoped it to be.

Celebrity Dreams

I hear celebrity dreams are common though I've never really had them before. Here are two I had this week.

Weezer playing dream

I dreamt that Ty and I were playing in concert with Weezer the pork and beans song. We were sitting in the stands, waiting for Weezer to take the stage and I was really nervous. I was going to play the guitar. Finally our moment came and we went up and played that song, and like half of another one, then they did one more song, but we just stood backstage, and it was all just the recorded version being played while some animated thing showed on the screen. Then we were done and we went back to our seats and I was saying that I thought we would have played longer, but what cuold I expect when he let us nobodies play with them? And then another band came on.


Christian Bale dream

I was on a crowded open boat deck, like a ferry, but the deck was all old and wooden looking. Tyler was with me and suddenly in the crowd I saw Christian Bale. He was brushing past us and I said "Hey! Christian!" he turned and looked at me, but as I started to walk towards him, he turned the other way, dismissing me as a fan looking for an autograph. But I quickly said, "I just want to ask you something," and he came right back--it was true, I just wanted to ask him something. He came right up to me and I turned and looked at Tyler, then back to Christian and said to him "I'm sorry to bother you, I was just trying to think of the name of that movie that you were in that was kind of a science movie? I think you transported something to a different time? Or I think you transported something to a different dimension, do you know which one I'm talking about? I just couldn't think of the name and then I saw you...." It was driving me nuts that I couldn't think of what movie it was. He kind of looked at me and then got that crooked smile and said "Yeah, I know which one you're talking about...but I can't think of the name of it either!" And then he kind of leaned in and kissed my cheek, like a greeting kiss, so I kissed his and he walked away. It wasn't romantic, it just seemed ordinary. Then a huge storm came in and Tyler and I went to find a safe place to kind of stand on the deck.

For the record, I have no idea what movie that is I was thinking of and I'm not in love with Rivers Cuomo or Christian Bale, though the HB might not object if I was in love with Rivers.

Oil paintings and Watercolors

The HB and I went for a little hike recently to a place called "the living room." It was a fairly short hike behind the U of U campus right above the Salt Lake Valley where people have made a "living room" out of stones overlooking the valley. There were a number of chairs, some benches, and some ottomans as well.

It was a bit overcast which killed the possibility of evening out my tan, but made for perfect hiking conditions. As we got up above the valley and were able to look down on it I remarked that what was all around us was like an oil painting because the clouds made the colors so rich and that out over the valley was more like a watercolor because it was washed out and a little hazy as we looked west. I much prefer oil paintings to watercolors, though sometimes I love the subtlety and fluidity of watercolors, like some of Vettriano's work.

My preference for the oil paintings is how I see my life overall--I like vivid, raw, honest experiences, nothing measured, nothing held back. When I was in Israel and spent a lot of time studying the Bible I found I had a clear favoritism for the Old Testament for the same reasons. The Old Testament is far more colorful and vibrant than the New Testament, just as the city of Jerusalem is surrounded by much more passion than the city of Nazareth in the Galilee area to the north. I loved the 2 weeks I spent on the Sea of Galilee, they were peaceful, beautiful, relaxing and enlightening, but the dirty Old City of Jerusalem, practically pungent with blood, spices, sweat, smoke, etc. made me feel much more alive.

I get frustrated with life when I feel I'm living a less than passionate life. When the monotony of work and everything takes over and nothing gets me worked up, inspired, or fulfills me. I feel guilty saying that because I actually get out a ton, and I constantly push for more and more experiences. I'm just glad that some very patient people love me.

Inaugural Barbecue

One week after moving into our new home we hosted our inaugural barbecue. I was excited to have my entire family be together for a weekend to celebrate the little (much taller than me) bro's high school graduation. Tyler was excited to make his famous ribs for us and show off our big back yard--we love it despite my thinking that it's blasphemous to have so much lawn in the middle of a desert. Brian and his family picked up a slip-n-slide for us to play on while it was hot out and I tried not to look too much like a seal while I tried it out.

Even good times kind of stress me out a little too though because I kept wishing I could just sit and catch up with each of my brothers, but it seemed that every few moments something had to be taken care of. Most likely this is just in my head though and I loved that I was able to indulge myself in some talk about my growing belly and some honesty about growing up.

We wrapped up the party with a little Rockband, nothing could seem more appropriate than that.

Friday I'm in Love

Last night the HB and I saw The Cure in concert. I won tickets last fall on the radio. I wasn't feeling so hot most of the afternoon and I laid down for a bit when I got home from work. I'm used to going to shows at smaller venues, with smaller crowds, and figured there was no way they'd take the stage before 9 pm even though the show was scheduled to start at 7:30. We showed up about 8 and checked out the overpriced merch and then headed in. The Cure started playing right around 8:30 and played until 11:30! I couldn't believe they played that long but it was awesome to hear tons of my favorites, not just a few. And though I have no idea how much my brothers still listen to the Cure, hearing some of the older Cure hits took me back to when they still lived at home, and it seemed appropriate that just a few days ago I'd gotten the chance to hang out with them and reminisce a little about growing up.

This whole past week has been pretty exhausting though, even though I was having a great time, and I was totally worn out last night after the show. I went to bed around 1:30 and had three crazy dreams I remember before getting up around 11.

Dream 1 was about a camping trip with April and Bill's family. My family and theirs was following each other in the car as we climbed a mountain of slickrock that the road wound around. We pulled over for Tyler and Bill to look at something and as April and I stood outside the cars we noticed a rhinoceros on the slickrocks just above us. We were scared but all of the sudden it fell onto the road right by us and was somewhat debilitated. April and I then pushed it off of the road together onto the slickrock below us.

All I remember of Dream 2 was that my family sent me to check on a tiger that we had trapped in a pit and when I got to the edge I just kept thinking I would jump into the pit so that I could die.

Dream 3 was about my entire immediate family staying at a cabin-type place near a really clean, warm river. Brian was in the water with his girls as they rode tubes along a bend the river made. April came inside and I heard her tell someone that we hadn't been getting along well lately. That seemed really weird to me because we've always been really close and I felt really hurt when I heard her say that. Then she came into the same room as me and we were both changing and I asked her about it and she said that it was true and seemed really mad at me. I started crying. Then I remember offering to take Bowen with me and Caiden to Disneyland for a few rides. I guess we were closeby and I was telling April the night pass was only 5 dollars so it was worth it to just go and let them do a few rides. After that I don't know what happened. It seemed we weren't upset anymore.

Survival of the Stubbornest

Despite being temporarily homeless the previous week, the HB and I wanted to follow through with our plans to go to Canyonlands the first weekend in May. It was a perfect plan because it wouldn't be too hot or crowded, and my belly wouldn't be too big then.

Ever since reading "the monkey wrench gang" years ago I'd wanted to visit the Needles and Maze districts of Canyonlands where Hayduke hides out at the end. And already being an aficionado for the Utah desert, I needed to go there. But also, last year, my co-worker Joe told me about a place called Paul Bunyan's Potty where they were several Indian ruins to explore and that was fairly off of the beaten path.

So moving all the things from our "extended stay hotel" into our cars we headed out of town, signing the closing papers for our new house on the way down. I won't do a full trip report because the HB is really much better at that, but just had to point out a few things about our trip.

First of all, the "potty" arch was very cool, but I emphasized to the kids (Caiden and his cousins) how cool it was to see the ruins that we did and told them everything I could about the Anasazi. The corn cobs and pottery pieces we saw could have easily been 1500 years old.

I got a little sunburnt that first day on my thighs--they haven't seen much sun yet--and so when we got back I went for my aloe vera. I opened the pocket in my bag where I could find that to see a clear gooey mess, so I did my best to scoop it out and coat my legs when I realized they were lathering up with my shampoo instead! It was my clear shampoo that had exploded everywhere. At least my legs were clean after that.

The next morning we all re-used our plastic spoons for breakfast (the quantity was limited due to packing in great haste). It reminded me of when April, Bill, Tyler, and I all shared a plastic fork with a prong broken off to eat our dinners on Mt. Timpanogos.

We psyched the kids up for another 11 mile-day and I had to strongly resist the urge to tell them how badass they were for the day before, but I didn't want to be responsible for teaching them to cuss. The entire trail was stunningly beautiful as was Druid Arch when we reached it. The kids were beat but they still played all over the "hamburger" rocks at our campsite when we got back.

On our way out we hit up Newspaper Rock which was totally awesome and then spent a night relaxing in Moab and enjoying the great pub food. The next day we were back in town, a little worn out, but happy to throw our mattresses and things in our new house.

Spitting in the Same Sink

Today marks 3 years of marriage with the HB.

Here are a few of the things we've survived / put up with / enjoyed:

*camping and hiking trips
*football seasons
*concerts
*bike rides
*tears
*illness
*home improvements
*job changes
*sundance film festivals
*way too many family get-togethers and ex-encounters
*night school
*teaching primary
*being a step-family
*movie-making
*and just today, being picked up on at the Arby's drive-thru!

A few of these would probably explain why we don't look as good now, but I'm glad to be married to Tyler and I look forward to what's ahead for us.

I love you too Tyler!

Lime green

Call me pregnant, but today everything lime green looked good to me. I went to Home Depot at lunch to pick up some paint color tabs for our front room which is currently an ugly cross between clover and teal and old hospital green. I picked up several colors thinking not only of the front room, but of every room we might possibly re-paint in the house. One of the colors I picked up was various shades of bright, lime green, something I wouldn't normally imagine putting in a house, but that just looked incredible. Then I promptly stopped by 7-11 for a slurpee (which I haven't bought in years) because something icy sounded amazing and I of course picked the one that was bright lime green. Not only that, but I bought one of those sugar-coated sour cherry licorice straws to go with my lemon-lime slurpee. Mmmmmm. Is it just because I feel so good or is it all those mommy hormones?

Saturn hair

During my Saturn return, I've had numerous crises regarding the state of my life. The only real way of dealing with them has been to change my hair color. Call me materialistic, but changing my hair seems to be the only thing I have control over at this point in my life. So after the last few times feeling unsatisfied by merely changing the "streak" in my hair, I decided to go for an overhaul. It's not that I didn't like my hair, just needed something new.

The HB had never seen me as a blonde and after commenting that he really like this photo of me in Japan, I decided that I'd go for it. As every woman whose every tried to go from dark to light can testify, it's a crap-shoot. I think I stuck it out pretty well, but it turns out I didn't like it much, and at first I couldn't tell if I didn't like the color or if I just didn't like the stage of growing it out and growing my bangs out as well. I felt like the wife in Hemingway's "Garden of Eden" who keeps lightening her hair because she's at the beach all the time and liked how it looked almost translucent when wet--I really only liked mine wet because dry looked fried.

So last night I went back to black, and am happy to be that way. It suits me better now and I didn't have to adjust to like it, I just liked it right away. Pictures are pending due to the lack of an internet connection at our new home.

Nihon Matsuri

Having sold our house and not quite closed on the new one, we're currently experiencing a state of homelessness at the "In Towne Suites", which might be more aptly named, In Towne Slums. They wouldn't be so bad if the other tenants didn't creep me out, the room didn't smell bad, the floors and walls weren't so dirty, and if it was a little roomier, but for a week, it was a good deal. We've been so busy that for the most part, Caiden's baseball games, errands around town, and the like have been keeping us away except for at night. But last night the HB headed to Wendover for a 2-day coaching clinic, (and all of the makings from our home sale in the bank--luckily, he's not a gambler) so Caiden and I have been doing our best to avoid being at the slum too much, not too hard, given that we have nothing whatsoever to do there.

Luckily, today was the Nihon Matsuri downtown--the Japanese festival. I love festivals because they're an excuse to get your face painted, eat greasy food, and be outside. This one I was especially excited to see what they would have. We watched some Kendo performers, and then checked out all of the tents for a sword for Caiden. I scoped out the food, but much to my chagrin, they didn't have any takoyaki (fried balls of octopus meat with sauce on top--sounds gross, but like eating a "viking" at the state fair). Despite Salt Lake City's variety of asian and Japanese food restaurants, takoyaki remains completely unseen. I could have found a picture of actual takoyaki, but the one below was way too good.

After getting the sword and things, we took off because our parking was going to expire and I didn't have any more cash. The HB will be back soon and we'll take off for a round of getting ready for the camping trip we'll take next weekend and whatever else we can get done outside of the hotel.

Baby Goats

After moving all day on Saturday we had a few things left to go to storage. So the HB and I went up to my parents so we could borrow their trailer and we got a bonus on our visit.

One of their goats had just had her babies and there is really nothing more adorable. It was really windy so I could feel the goat I was holding shivering and it made me so sad. Their little voices are so adorable too that I kept asking the HB if he was positive we wouldn't have room in our new yard?

Tradeshows Round2

This last tradeshow I attended was held in Roswell, New Mexico and was the last one I have to attend due to some office changes. Much relieved, I felt able to sort of sail through this one, and having already sort of become the expert at setting up our equipment and displaying the laptop screen on the projector screen while maintaining the webpage open on the laptop, I felt on top of my game. Sounds like an easy task, but being able to do this and knowing my co-workers expect me to, makes me feel like more than just a pretty face at the booth : ) This time a professor from the University of Utah came with us as she would be a keynote speaker with my co-worker during the conference. She was a lot of fun, and kept making jokes about how my baby girl is going to come out running because I'm so intent on working out in the mornings.

It was quick and I didn't spend much time enjoying New Mexico, though I have in mind to someday see all of the Anasazi sites there. In the airport on my way home I bought this little baby bracelet because they were just too adorable to resist.

Ten years

Ten years ago today I gave birth to a baby boy. It was the most beautiful thing I've ever experienced, like a dream, but more truthful than any part of my life. I was able to give birth naturally and that gave me a sense of empowerment for everything I'd be moving forward with in life.

You see, I was 17 when I got pregnant. I'd known the father for a mere 5 weeks. I thought I was in love. He proposed to me, gave me a ring. I wanted to marry him, but somehow I knew that I never would. So I moved away, in with some old family friends I hadn't seen in 15 years.

I wanted my baby to have the best life possible.

I decided to place my baby for adoption. I read copious amounts of information about adoption. I read about adoption for infants, as children, from foster care, international adoption, interracial adoption, etc. I read a book about a birth mother and an adoptive mother, alternating chapters, each telling their painful story. I read about the role of each parent in a child's development. And eventually, I contacted LDS Social Services.

As my due date began approaching I received profiles of couples from my LDS social services counselor. It was easy for me to choose the couple I would place my baby with. I hardly noticed their biographical information, but was emotionally impressed by the letter they had written to the prospective birth mother of their child--it was so full of love, for me and for my baby.

I gave birth. I felt so whole, so pure, and so full of love. I held my baby as much as I could during that time spent in the hospital. He hardly slept but I didn't feel tired. I named him William Cade and called him Cade as his adoptive parents would do. I loved it when he looked at me, when he heard my voice. He was very big for a baby but seemed so small and precious to me. The time I spent with him feels like a hazy dream to me. I must have been in heaven the whole time.

I put him in the arms of my LDS Social services counselor 3 days after giving birth. I burst into tears as soon as the door closed.

I waited for the father to agree to sign adoption papers. Cade would stay with a foster-care family until the papers were signed and he could go to his adoptive family. But after 3 weeks I became worried and scared. I loved him intensely, and wanted the best for him. If adoption wouldn't work out, I wanted to be with him immediately. I picked him up from foster care and took him to stay with me again. This time I was incredibly emotional, terrified that I'd screwed up the beginning of what would be my life as a mother. And then, five days later the father agreed to sign adoption papers.

I met with the adoptive parents, said good-bye to my baby and drove back to my hometown. I wasn't sure what my plans were, but that I felt finished with something heartbreaking, even though it would never leave me.

Since giving my baby up for adoption I've tried to make the most of my decision. I've had an intense drive to make all of the pain worth it by achieving and experiencing all I can in life. I owe it to my baby to make something of myself for him to be proud of. I owe it to myself to forget all the misery and have some happiness.

Now, ten years later, I'm experiencing this miracle again. Sharing this story is the only way I know how to celebrate his birthday, but it seems like a good way.

Happy Birthday to my HB

31 new things to love about him

1. he's better at snorkeling than me
2. he can body-board
3. he took me to Horseshoe canyon when I needed to get out in February
4. he kisses my belly and talks to our baby girl inside
5. he listens to me deliberate over and over about my hair
6. he actually read some of the Kelsey books on the San Rafael Swell (I'm not sure they're in English sometimes)
7. he got our house on the market doing most of the fix-ups himself
8. sometimes he brings me donuts and milk in the morning at my office
9. he doesn't worry about me getting fat when he witnesses me finish an entire Cafe Rio meal
10. he gives me credit for schooling him on the Rolling Stones
11. he's still interested in my stories and in hearing more about me
12. he always gives me a half wave and smile when he sees me in the stands at the football game he's coaching
13. he was down with getting a platform bed too
14. he lets me get away for some hard-core hiking sometimes
15. he organizes everything--sounds lame, but it totally helps me
16. he rocks the drums and the guitar on Rock Band, but tells me I'm good too
17. he lets me wear his T-shirts
18. he knows the way to everywhere
19. he shares a love for Escalante with me
20. when I freaked out after seeing "I Am Legend" he went to Walmart with me for curtains
21. when I fainted on my shift at Sundance, he brought me lunch and stayed with me until I was okay
22. he knows how to use a fire hose
23. he lets me help him with his homework sometimes so I can feel smart again
24. he never turns down a chance to barbeque something for me
25. he misses me when I'm gone
26. he doesn't tease me about the beauty magazines I sometimes read or for sometimes watching America's Next Top Model
27. he lets me bite his ear
28. he belts out "happiness is a warm gun" with feeling
29. his Samurai voice is hilarious
30. he gets better looking every year
31. he gets sweeter every year

Tradeshows Round1

Last Wednesday morning began a series of tourism conferences I'll be attending over the next 2 months. The first show was a very small one in Anaheim and I liked the intimacy of really getting to know the other attendees. I hardly got to enjoy the outdoors, but here is evidence that I was in fact, in southern California, as seen by the lush greenery and flowers. One of the nights a group of us went to the House of Blues with some of our clients. When my co-worker had first told me that most of the CVB (Convention & Visitors Bureau) employees were middle-aged women, I narrow-mindedly didn't imagine a healthy nightlife. But while everyone sat with their wine glasses and me with my milkshake ("I'm off the sauce" I would say) the woman next to me told of how she dumped her boyfriend in college because when she arranged for them go to skydiving with some friends he was the only one that couldn't do it, he started crying in the plane. This story was followed by several other stories that could have kept me entertained for hours.

The next night we flew to Portland, arrived super-late, and after a huge room-change fiasco, went to bed. I got placed in a suite because the room they put my co-worker and I in had just one bed so we got a free upgrade. It had huge windows that wrapped around 2 sides of the bedroom and looked out on the Columbia river. I slept in, had breakfast, returned and took a bath, walked to the nearby "super center" and hung out at Barnes and Noble. That night I met up with some old friends of mine that I used to live with in Longview, Washington. They took me out and we discussed their grandson who is in rehab, their other grandkids, travel, my family, and life in general.

It was nice to have a day to relax between conferences, but made me miss the HB even more. I had some weird dreams while there too, maybe because of the new environment. One night I dreamt I was being shot at and finally sat up in bed gasping when one of the bullets nicked my neck. The next night I dreamt that I had taken some photos while hiking and as I looked at the photos, I realized I had hiked along the trail right past a white tiger without even seeing him before--I had taken a picture of the tree and he was laying right next to it, his head and front part of his body totally exposed. I couldn't believe I hadn't seen him. Those were the two dreams I remember.

On the flights over, I'd read a book called "The Delivery Man" about a guy who drives Las Vegas prostitutes to their appointments. After that I felt like staying in a suite should involve a large amount of alcohol and drugs, but instead, Sunday night of the tradeshow I relaxed and watched a movie.

The next day in Portland, the conference put on a Dine-Around for dinner and I went with my co-workers and a large group to Henry's Tavern--home to over 200 brews of Weinhardt's beer. I had the Root Beer of course. We were joined by a local who worked with Washington County CVB just outside of Portland and had a good time exchanging crazy travel and work abroad stories.

Also got to see Portland's local School of Rock band play some tunes at the before-dinner reception. I was really impressed with one of the young guitarists, as I was when I saw Salt lake City's School of Rock band play a couple of years ago. It was too bad most people were taking advantage of that time to change before dinner because they were really fun to watch. This kid totally rocked.


And finally, last night I was very very happy to be home.

Amazon who wore a blazer and walked like a policeman.

The below email came to me today preceded by a link to a special website which I declined to visit:


Lay the cheeks on it, and a few whole cloves, abe interrupted.
i heard enough from you already. Was out she relapsed into
her bad ways. She could i shall leave unspoken all except
so much as piety face? He was absolutely bowled over, wasn't
he? Amazon who wore a blazer and walked like a policeman.
is evidence. K yes, i thought, we all wanted evidence turns.
some make more fuss than others. Mr. Entwhistle hundred
years and, notwithstanding that their of the method by which
the east india company still be in his surgery. It was only
a couple to say about one the ladies came down, and they
perception and appreciation of all the infinity whether
she was dead or alive. Of course he made for safety. Among
the fugitives were lippy and.

I'm the Disney hypocrite

Disneyland is totally overrated. For the amount of money my family could spend one day there, we could spend a week in a place much more desirable to me. I have no desire to feed the disgusting machine that is Disneyland, to pay outrageous prices, to wait in long lines, to ride rides that aren't even that exciting, to see characters from movies I haven't watched in years. But I'll be going there tonight actually, staying at Disney's Paradise Pier Hotel for a tourism conference. And I just know that I'll enjoy that pool on the roof where they said you can see Disneyland fireworks from and I just know I'll buy some Disney princess outfit for my baby girl yet to come. And I'll feel horribly guilty because Caiden would love to go to Disneyland again and I'll be right there. So I'm confessing. And also I'm admitting that we will probably in fact go there as a family one day.

the Spell of the Desert

Maybe it's because I'm reading "the Spell of the Sensuous" right now, or because I have a baby inside of me, that I feel even more in touch with the universe and therefore, with myself. It reminds me of reading Geertz, makes me feel more alive, and brings me back to that place where I can evaluate better how I see things. It seems like lately we hear a lot about our impact on nature, but there is still a lack of discussion about nature's impact on us. But having once lived outside of the ordinary, I don't believe you can ever return to life as it was before and be the same. So spending a weekend in the desert was just what I needed to feel rejuvenated and like I"m still myself even when I'm living a pretty ordinary life.

The great thing about this trip was that we hiked a ton! The thing is it feels so good to me to be exhausted, to deserve that warm campfire meal and to crash when I lay down. We estimated our hiking to be about 6 miles on both Friday and Saturday. It wasn't much more than what I usually get in at the gym in the morning, but of course all the climbing over rocks and elevation changes made it feel like quite the workout (not during, but afterwards), but I felt so strong afterwards from doing it, tired, but empowered. And being outside makes all the difference to me, makes me feel so much healthier.

Check out the HB's trip report here. I'm glad we were able to try some new things in the area too, there's nothing like having the whole canyon to yourselves!

Saturday night in the San Rafael Swell I dreamt that I killed a mountain lion. Only a few days earlier in the week last week I'd dreamt that I killed a lion. Pregnancy may just up the ante of crazy dreams, but they're not uncommon for me, especially that time of year that I start spending more time outside. I remember the summer I did my dig down by Escalante, each morning we'd tell our dreams around the water bucket, brushing our teeth. I welcome crazy dreams. In the mountain lion one, it was as if the mountain lion had a jaw like an alligators--only one side can shut so I was straddling the lion, holding the jaw open so it couldn't bite me and finally just cracked it back so far that it killed the animal. I'm not into killing animals or anything so I thought it was pretty interesting. Some info below about what that could mean, and in addition, I happen to be a Leo (born on the last day of that sign) and my baby girl will be one too!

LION/LIONESS - The power of our physical strength, of our temper, of our emotions or sexuality; love that has become anger through jealousy or pain; leadership; ones father or fatherhood, or mother if it is a lioness; an image of the father/mother God; leadership; watchfulness or guardianship; self assertion or boasting because of the power of the lions roar. The story of Androcles and the lion shows how the pain felt by our 'animal' life process, if tended by the conscious personality, brings a loving relationship between conscious and unconscious.

As an astrological sign, the lion is the sign of Leo, a 'Fixed' 'Fire' sign. In the dream of a person born with the sun in Leo, the lion may represent their basic character. It is said to be the heart of the Zodiac. In it all the activities of Aries have been concentrated and given purpose, permanence, passion and a certain nobility. It is the Royal Sign denoting Love, the Ruler of Life. Subjects of this sign are said to be proudly 'faithful' and scorn what is weak, small-minded, or mean. It is the sign of the Sun - the physical and also the Divine Sun. In terms of human evolution the sign of Leo represents rulership of the animal kingdom, to become a dominant creature, expressing the best of the instinctive and natural within human nature. Thus in The Witch and The Wardrobe, the greatest strength and unifying influence is the lion. But there is a step beyond this into independent awareness where one recognises oneself not only as the powerful and creative universal animal life, but as an individual human being as well.

Dear Daughter

Dear Daughter,

Today I found out I was having a girl. Your dad and big brother came with me to find out if you were a boy or a girl. We had to wait for 1 hour and 15 minutes in the office and I was worried that Caiden was getting really bored. But he brought a piece of notepaper and I gave him a pen and he wrote down the possibilities: boy, girl, child, child+

Then we went in the room and the nurse started showing you to us on the big screen. Caiden wrote down what she said. Then when she told us you were a girl my eyes teared up and I was so excited. I had a lot of anxiety about having a girl because of my own relationship with my mother and because my mom told me that a girl would steal Tyler's heart away from me, but I always joked that the reason I was nervous about it was because no girl could be cuter than my brother's little girls. But all of the anxiety went away when she told me you were a girl. And then I was proud when she said you were stubborn and feisty--just like me! Every time she tried to get a shot of your feet you would move them out of the way.

We got to see all of the parts of your body--your face, your heart, each hand and foot. And then when the nurse was finished she gave us some pictures and a DVD. Your brother asked me what else he should write down so I told him to write who we needed to call.

I gave the pictures and DVD to your dad because he was going home and I had to go back to work and I didn't want the pictures to get crinkled or anything. Right after he left I sent him a text message on his phone because I was so jealous that he had the pictures with him. I told him not to look at them too much. And when I was back at work I imagined him looking at them over and over like I wanted to right then. But he told me he was playing catch with Caiden in the backyard and I was jealous then of that too.

I called your aunt April right away because she's my best friend in the whole world and she was so excited. And your dad sent a message to his whole family he was so excited!

I can't wait to meet you.

my Tummy Honey

It sounds yummy, or like a term of endearment, but it's this stuff you smear on your belly so your skin can maintain its moisture and elasticity.

I feel like I'm getting pretty round now and somehow, it makes me feel like I'm getting shorter too. I keep making the HB take my side-view pics to show it off, but he insists it's still hardly obvious. Nevertheless, here it is, and since he kept telling me to put my hand back, I thought, "why not grab my a@%"?

I must apologize for the glimpse of side-boob, or side-bra, as I didn't realize at the time the flash would go through my shirt.

Octopus cliff dream

A group of friends including Tyler and myself are all going camping. We park our cars on the top of a slickrock slope and walk down its steep side to where it flattens out a little to pitch our tents. Just beyond where we're camping, is a cliff that drops into a river. One of the girls in our group walks out to the cliff and jumps into the water, it looked so refreshing, but the current quickly grabs her and whisks her downriver, around the corner, where our view of the water is crowded by tree branches and the surrounding rocks on each side.... And somehow, we know that she's dead.

A while later, I'm exploring the campsite, trying to see as much as I can up-river, and I can just barely make out around the corner of the rock we're on, a sandy beach, and little creatures playfully getting in and out of the water, towels and umbrellas on the beach, etc.

This beach is just inaccessible by a bit of the rock cliff that curves convexly out as it turns the corner to the beach.

It's very dangerous to try to go around this because I could fall into the river that already killed the one girl, but I trust my free-hand climbing skills and edge my way around the rock. I can't quite make it all the way to where I can lower myself onto the beach, but I find something beneath me I can--giant octopus tentacles, like huge tree roots, protruding out of the sand. I get on one and proceed to climb over some remaining tentacles to make it to the "beach." I can now see that the octopus' giant head is sort of holding up that bit of rounded out cliff face while his tentacles are just reaching into the water.

I don't however, go to the beach, I turn to get back and tell my friends about it. As I went to use the octopus' tentacle again to boost myself onto the rock, I noticed some boxes I could use to stack up. But as soon as I would get them stacked to get back onto the rock cliff, the sand would sink and I couldn't reach. That was when I noticed some type of witch in the river who could not touch me but could keep pulling the sand out from under the boxes. But eventually, I got onto the rock face again, clinging with my fingers on a tiny lip. Then the face of the cliff would roll, and suddenly I was way up above my friends at the campsite. As I tried to slide down the steep face, going from tiny ridge to tiny ridge for security, the rock face would keep rolling and I was scared to death that I'd slide all of the way off the cliff and into the fast-moving section of the river that had already taken the life of one of my girlfriends.


I woke up at that point. It was an interesting dream. As is commonly the case, I'm having even more interesting dreams while pregnant. So I've looked up some of the creatures in my recent dreams and here are a few of the ideas, of course there were none for the cute little strange creatures I saw playing on the beach, but here are a few animals who have made appearances:

OCTOPUS emotional entanglement
OCTOPUS emotionally engrossed
OCTOPUS hands everywhere


SNAKE a problem or trap - uncomfortably fast moving situation
SNAKE something you cannot deal with - being drawn into a dispute
SNAKE twisting everything someone says - singling someone out - a complaint
SNAKE a difficult relationship - a bad atmosphere
SNAKE something bad that could strike at any time
SNAKE phallic symbol - sexual intercourse

Need me to make you a mix tape?

After 2 years of marriage I had to give in and start watching the HB's favorite TV show, LOST. Prior to that I'd been kind of a TV snob--but not in the sense you'd imagine. When I say TV snob I don't mean I was snobbish about what I watched, I was just snobbish about the fact that I didn't watch any. And I still think that's a pretty good thing. I never watched much TV growing up, and then later, part of the reason I didn't watch was just default. My first couple of years in college I didn't have a TV. Then I spent a semester abroad in Jerusalem--no TV, then a archaeology dig in Escalante--no TV, then after college several months in Japan, where I had--no TV. But since then I really prided myself on my lack of TV-watching. I was way more into movies and the outdoors. And besides, I rarely spent evenings at home, being in some community class or another or most likely, out on a date. So shortly after marriage when the new season began and I felt I'd already taken on every possible habit and hobby of Tyler's, I refused to add LOST to the list. I was so overwhelmed with trying to fit in football and his family and all of our problems into my schedule of full-time work and a master's program at night. But last year (season 3) I didn't have so many excuses and felt I was almost being selfish in rejecting his offer to share something more with me. And that's how I become just another one of those obsessed fans you meet every day.

Little does Tyler know, that he introduced me to my second love--Sawyer. Of course I can only love Sawyer because Tyler knows I love him first, so it's okay. And I can sort of justify it by drawing the connections between their big muscles and grizzly appearance. But Tyler knows I also love Sawyer for his witty comments, his penchant for good novels, and his willingness to break the rules. So here's something I found today that made me think of his wonderful line, "Need me to make you a mix tape?" It's the mix-tape pillow for all those whose music collection has superceded the cassette tape, but have still not found an equal token with which to express our love. Found here.

Gotta move in to move out

Monday night, after the new carpet installation, Tyler and Caiden and I worked hurriedly to put together our new bed frame. It felt as if we were moving in rather than getting ready to move out. Most of our furniture was still stuffed in the dining area due to the carpet installation. The night before we'd watched the Oscars from our couch which was tightly placed into the hallway, sitting probably just 3 feet from the bigscreen of our TV, shoved in last, facing out. The week before we'd put together our new dressers. So with everything feeling so new, it was odd to think most of these new things we'd invested in and picked out would be left behind.

Tyler and I have been making preparations to move out for as long as I've been living in the house. For the most part, I have hated every minute of these preparations, while at the same time quite anxiously awaiting the time when we can move out. It's not that the preparations don't make it nicer, it's just hard not having ever been a home-owner before to see all the money being poured into something I"m going to leave behind. I don't understand it. But I've never felt like I belonged in the house at all. He bought it with his first wife and they lived there together. Then the house was his alone for several years before I moved in. Despite invitations to decorate as I please, I've felt inhibited because decorations already existed and it's one thing to hang a picture on a bare wall, and another to take down what's already there of someone else's to express your own tastes instead. And of course the psychological impact of living in the same home as he did with his first wife was much more difficult than I had anticipated. Those unexpected discoveries of cards and love notes when looking for construction paper are all too unsettling. Not to mention her comments on the changes/improvements she notices. Then there are the stories I hear here and there, and of course my vivid imagination of all the memories they shared and all the "firsts" they were able to have together.

But as we discuss moving now I feel selfish, terrified that Caiden will resent that it was me who initiated discussions of moving when he has no desire to. Terrified that Tyler would truly rather stay there if it were possible to make more room for our growing family. A bit worried that our new home won't have as nice of a back yard as the current one. And, above all, scared that our new home will need a considerable amount of work to make it fit our needs and tastes. It'd be ideal to build it just the way we want it, but never having had any period of non-improvement in my home, I'm hoping to be spared the ordeal for a couple of years. I remember just 4 days after we were married I went to my class for the evening and came home to new paint going on the walls in the living room. A week later, coming home to a ceiling fan resting on the bed as Tyler worked to install it. So I will warmly welcome a respite from home repair if I'm granted it.

Here's a list of the changes that have been made in the (nearly) last 3 years. I know Tyler had already made tons of updates prior to those I was present for, but I'll just recount the ones that I've witnessed.

Kitchen
flooring--laid tile
cabinets
countertops
dishwasher
lighting
paint
Bedrooms & office area
carpet
paint
light fixtures
Yard
deck
firepit
playhouse complete with sandbox and slide
Bathroom
flooring--laid tile
paint
General
roof
swamp cooler
venting
hot water heater
Living & dining room
built a wall
knocked out a "window"
laid wood flooring
paint
light fixtures
carpet
Laundry
new washer/dryer
flooring--laid tile

Green River Bible Church

Several years ago I was having a series of apocalyptic dreams. Each of them featured the world ending in different ways, or just the knowledge of being on the brink of the end of the world. One such dream featured an old, dilapidated, wooden church in the middle of an open field. Already having a penchant for ruined and abandoned buildings, I've added wooden churches to my picture-must-be-taken-of repertoire. So, far from the highlight of my weekend trip, but an interesting addition to the experience was our one-night stay in Green River, Utah. And in town, the Green River Bible Church stood there, a little ghostly.

Check out the HB's coverage of our Horseshoe canyon adventure on his blog here. Usually we're camping in the San Rafael Swell area, but late-February seemed a little too chilly and we booked a hotel in town instead. I've stopped at the edge of town plenty of times for gas, but never actually visited or driven through (just about 2 minutes to get down Main Street from end to end). I honestly hope it stays as hopeless as it is, because I don't want it to be touristy, but it did make me just a little sad that the town felt so empty.

As far as the canyon goes, it was incredible, and I will re-iterate Tyler--it was a perfect day, I can't imagine a better one. My previous trip to Horseshoe Canyon was with my archaeology field school group in Escalante. We went there to hike the canyon on a Saturday sometime in June and it was hot as hell. I loved it then too, but until I went on this weekend, I didn't even know that water ran through there, I'm sure it's all dried up by then. It really was just perfect.

Jiplip

Jiplip is our family Rock Band. Caiden named the band, and we never asked where the name came from or what it meant, maybe because lately he laughs at his own jokes about boobies. But we went for it and then each designed our own rockers, hairstyles, tattoos, etc. Caiden plays the guitar mostly and Tyler the drums, and I sing, though sometimes when I lucky they let me play an instrument. I'm not a good singer, but I did survive enjoy months of regular karaoke in Japan. As we play different gigs we can unlock more songs, gain fans, win tour buses, band managers, and roadies. We've now maxed out on the number of fans we can gain playing on "easy" mode. Check us out.

My Treasonous Act

"...He explained why an honest buildling, like an honest man, had to be of one piece and one faith; what constituted the life source, the idea in any existing thing of creature, and why--if one smallest part committed treason to that idea--the thing of the creature was dead: and why the good, the high and the noble on earth was only that which kept its integrity."--from Ayn Rand's 'The Fountainhead'

I quote the above because I believe I have committed treason to my philosophy on life and hope that I haven't killed myself by doing so. It's funny I wouldn't consider myself a selfish person, but my ideal is that people go after the things that they want in life. I don't like all of the hypocrisy that exists among people that say they want to do things, but never make them happen. I moved on from all of my past relationships for that very reason.

In the past 3 years I've had to totally come to grips that I am now the hypocrite. That it's not possible to live your life the way you want to when you're married, which was a stunning realization given that I've defined myself by believing that people can do whatever they dream of doing and limitations are only in their mind. Of course I'd heard and knew somewhere that marriage was all about compromise, but had I really imagined its effect on me? Not only am I not fulfilling my dreams, I'm watching others do it, and still I have not been able to define myself in this new light. I fight it and fight it and fight it and fight that I love my husband so much. And in my head I'd be willing to give up my identity for one that is "ours" but it feels so much more like "his" that I'm not sure where I belong.

I express these things not to criticize marriage or my own, but as an honest question of how a person of integrity reconciles theirs in such a situation? And because I need to be honest with myself to fight against the lack of honest discussion.

I had a great teacher in the 5th grade who conducted Philosophy discussion once a month in the afternoon. I remember one discussion about what makes a person the person they are--does it matter how many times they've changed their name? their appearance? their religion? the distance from where they grew up? their association with or lack of association with the family they grew up with? their goals? their perspective on the purpose of life? etc.

Because I thought it was my way of life, of persistently going after the things I wanted, that made me me, but it is probably all of those things and surely I don't have to be dead now, even if I must commit treason to re-define myself. And as anxious as I am to be a mother, I must know where I stand in life aside from that.