The Suit-dress Incident

Today we were shopping for Tyler. He needed some new clothes for his new job and Bailey and I were happy to be with him since we don't all get to hang out together often.

I love to shop for clothes for Bailey and I was thinking about when it would become not so fun. When will she start wanting to pick them out herself and when will I not like what she chooses? I'm not sure when it happened for me, but I can think of one time in particular, that just may have been the first.

When April and I were 8 years old we were baptized in the LDS church. Prior to that event we were shopping for dresses. This was kind of rare, usually my mom made our dresses. I know we usually got a new home-made dress on Easter most years anyway. My mom made my prom dress in high school and many of my Christmas dresses. She helped me sew my own wedding dress because I wanted a particular design that couldn't be bought.

So when we were 8 we were at Kmart and there were some lacy/ruffly dresses and then there was what I"ll call a suit-dress. I wanted the suit dress and my mom wanted me to have the lacy/ruffly kind. April was going for one of the ruffly kinds as well. I think I cried. I know I kept insisting that I liked the one much better. I know my mom would remember it as one of my most stubborn moments of childhood.

At the end of the shopping trip, I don't think we got the dresses, my mom said she would get them later or something? All I know is that I didn't yet know what decision she had come to regarding which one would be mine. April was settled with the pink ruffly/lacy dress, and there was a similar purple one that I think my mom wanted for me. I remember that I didn't find out until later that she had decided to go ahead and buy me the suit-dress I wanted. I'm sure I was happy, I remember that dress well. I remember the rule that I had to wear the jacket with it because the dress top was sleeveless. I know sometimes I took the jacket off, but I don't remember how often or if it was a big deal if I was caught.

Here is our family photo at April and I's baptism on 1987. I am wearing the suit dress I stubbornly desired. April isn't wearing the ruffly pink one in this picture, but that is the one she got.

These days I might be more inclined to go with the ruffly pink dress myself, I love to feel girly and being a mother brings it out more. Apologies to anyone in my family who may not appreciate having this particular photo of them posted, I am using it for demonstrative purposes only :)

All About Soul

I was recently sent an article about how Billy Joel is the Worst Pop Singer Ever. It was pretty hilarious and I pretty much have to agree. Except I remembered later that I might have a few of his songs in my collection. And it turns out I do, one that I've liked the lyrics to since I was in middle school I think. I looked them up and it turns out I still like them. It's far from being a favorite song, but the lyrics to "All About Soul" give me a picture of the kind of wife I want to be.


She waits for me at night, she waits for me in silence
She gives me all her tenderness and takes away my pain
And so far she hasn't run, though I swear she's had her moments
She still believes in miracles while others cry in vain

It's all about soul
It's all about faith and a deeper devotion
It's all about soul
'Cause under the love is a stronger emotion
She's got to be strong
'Cause so many things gettin' out of control
Should drive her away
So why does she stay?
It's all about soul

She turns to me sometimes and she asks me what I'm dreaming
And I realize I must have gone a million miles away
And I ask her how she knew to reach out for me at that moment
And she smiles because it's understood there are no words to say

It's all about soul
It's all about knowin' what someone is feelin'
The woman's got soul
The power of love and the power of healin'
This life isn't fair
It's gonna get dark, it's gonna get cold
You gotta get tough, but that ain't enough
It's all about soul
Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na, It's all about soul
Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na, Yes it is
Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na, It's all about soul
Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na, Yes it is

There are people who have lost every trace of human kindness
There are many who have fallen, there are some who still survive
As she comes to me at night and she tells me her desires
And she gives me all the love I need to keep my faith alive

It's all about soul
It's all about joy that comes out of sorrow
It's all about soul
Who's standing now, who's standing tomorrow
You've got to be hard
As hard as the rock in that old rock 'n' roll
But that's only part, you know in your heart
It's all about soul
Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na, It's all about soul
Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na, Yes it is
Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na, It's all about soul
Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na, Yes it is
Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na, It's all about soul
Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na, Yes it is

More cereal please Mommy

I just love the way it feels on my chin!

SFF 09 Part 2

Sundance is over and I hardly felt part of it this year. Usually by day 8 or 9 of the festival I'm ready for it to be over because I'm so exhausted from all of the late nights and early mornings at my regular job. But this time I was ready for it to be over because I'm still lacking sleep each night getting up with Bailey and honestly, though I'd like some more "me" time, I wasn't that into it.

So I worked my shift and tried to be as helpful as possible. I saw a friend from my old work in the waitlist line for a popular zombie nazi movie and was happy to see that she got in. Then I watched while a bunch of volunteers got photos with Benjamin Bratt who was there as part of the cast for "La Mission." I heard that the movie was really good and it seemed that he was pretty friendly considering the amount of photos he was willing to be in and his good-natured smile.

When Tyler updated me on how Bailey went down for bed though I really longed to be home and started thinking about how much I'd love to leave early, just like all of the other volunteers that have driven me crazy as a manager in previous years. I didn't ask, and I didn't get off early because it was the last night for festival showings at the Broadway and we had to break down and inventory all of the equipment.

Still, I was happy to be a small part of the festival, and next year I'll look forward to seeing festival movies again. I did run into "the dude we see everywhere" again this year, he happened to be working at the Broadway on one of my shifts too, so I assured him that though I don't know him, my husband and I feel like we're his friends since we see him everywhere, and he was happy to hear that. : )

Also, Tyler and I did bring Bailey over to the Rose Wagner theater to show her off to the people I've worked with the last couple of years at the festival. Though I typically only see these people once a year, it was fun to say hi and get a quick update on their lives. Bailey was a doll for them of course.

SFF 09 Part 1

In keeping with tradition, I feel compelled to write something about the Sundance film festival this year. However, this year is different in that I am only working a few shifts, primarily to maintain my alumni status as a volunteer so that I can work at my preferred venue in the future.

I'm also not seeing any movies. This is because with my part-time job shifts and Sundance shifts, I don't want to be away from Bailey any more than that. It's been hard to not let myself get too excited, but in the whole scheme of things, one year of missing movies won't kill me. It's always fun to just be a part of it and I usually only see a small portion of the over 100 films showing in those 10 days anyway.

So last weekend were my first two shifts. I was back at the Broadway instead of the Rose Wagner and I enjoyed the faster pace of it there. The managers brought to our attention that it's the one of two theaters at Sundance that has 3 screens running movies so it definitely has some of the most traffic. And I like that about it.

The first night the only thing of note to me was the Shorts program. A lot of cast and crew came for several of the shorts selected. One of them featured a young girl, my guess was that she was about 10 or 11 years old. She sat out of the theater waiting for the show to finish to back in for the Q & A afterwards. What impressed me about her was that she was sitting in the lobby reading the book "The Shack," something that's been on my reading list a few months now and seemed heavy content for a young girl. She was sitting out on the movie because the other shorts in the collection were more of the R-rated type while hers was suitable for most audiences. I watched her walk in when the show was finished and she carried herself so well, I immediately thought she must be a very bright little girl.

The second night I worked until almost 2 am. The midnight movie had already gained a lot of popularity despite only being shown once before so far at the festival. Then we got word that a very VIP person was coming to the screening. Security kept calling to notify us of how far away they were and to make the request that the theater be seated already so that they could sit in the back to be there for the Q & A afterwards. So after seating them, we calmly waited and then in walked Mariah Carey and Nick Cannon with a large entourage. I'm not a big fan of hers, but it was definitely fun to see her.

I just have one more shift to work this weekend and it will be over again until next year.

To Cry or not to Cry

Yes I cry a lot, but this is not about me. This is about Bailey. Who is a very happy baby, who never fusses unless she's tired or hungry. Except at night. At night she is much more temperamental. In fact, more temperamental than any other baby her age that I've heard of. I'm talking 4 to 6 awakenings at night.

Bailey is not a good sleeper and never has been. And for the last 4 weeks I've been trying to change that, to help her learn how to soothe herself to sleep so that her frequent night awakenings don't require my assistance to go back to sleep. Sure she does still need to eat at least once in the night, but the story seems to be that she's waking up for attention also, as evident by wakings just after feedings.

Encouraged by her doctor at her 4 month visit, I began testing the waters of letting her cry a bit. With more and more people telling me of their good experiences with BabyWise or the Weissbluth book on sleep, I felt further encouraged to get Bailey started on a good sleep schedule. Most of the literature says to give it a good 2 weeks.

Over the last 4 weeks I've seen some improvements in her sleep, less awakenings at night and longer sleep periods. But I've also experienced nights where I listened to her cry for 90 minutes, and got up nearly every 30 minutes to help soothe her back to sleep. At first I was "visiting" her in her crib, as recommended by her doctor and others. These visits would be to calm her down and then leave again so she can put herself to sleep. However, it took several minutes to calm her down and although I wouldn't pick her up, she began expecting me to stay there, hand on her cheek, bent over the crib railing.

If the visits didn't prove effective, I'd pick her up and rock her or feed her back to sleep after 1 hour of crying. My doctor didn't believe that Bailey could cry for a full hour. Well she cried that long so many times that I think she learned a tolerance for an hour of crying. Now I'm not one to enjoy listening to my baby cry when I'm steps away and can get her back to sleep in minutes with a certain body part. But I was warned that if I did, she would learn to wake up for that even if she didn't need it.

So I'm still working on the sleep training as they call it. I have every right to have given up after 2 weeks, and believe me I've told myself I would many mornings, but I don't want to have wasted those tears of hers and mine, and each night I see an improvement in one area and maybe a drawback in another. She may sleep a rare 6 hours before her first awakening but then be up several times after that. Or she may cry for 90 minutes on her first awakening only to wake 2 hours later to be fed, but then go an uninterrupted 3.5 hours in the early am which is unheard of.

I keep doing it because overall, there have been minor improvements for the cost of those tears. And because each day I tell myself I'll just try one more night and then I re-read the passage pertaining to what I need and tell myself I've just got to keep doing it.

And nothing sucks more than this.

Perfecting an art

In this case, that art is spitting.

And Secondly

A follow-up thought on my Revolutionary Road post.

How can I profess to even want all of the things I say I do if every time I listen to the song "Castles in the Air" by Don McLean, one of my all-time favorite songs, I'm full of desire for the simplest life possible? (Preferably in this house in Teasdale.)

From "Castles in the Air":

But how can words express the feel of sunlight in the morning,
In the hills, away from city strife.
I need a country woman for my wife;
I'm city born, but I love the country life.

For I cannot be part of the cocktail generation:
Partners waltz, devoid of all romance.
The music plays and everyone must dance.
I'm bowing out. I need a second chance.


I mean, seriously, where do I get off saying I want to do all of these grand things and then say I might just be happy living in the heart of Utah's desert the rest of my life?

Revolutionary Road

I don't like the book really, but I can't seem to put it down. The problem is that I don't like the main characters, they seem snobbish and shallow. They look down on everyone else. But I am driven by the idea that life often becomes exactly what you mean for it not to be and before you know it you may have sacrificed your dreams.

For example, I live in the suburbs and desperately miss being downtown. I recognize the benefit of a larger house, yard, and kids on the street for my kids to play with (but as we all know, I'm most crazy about the hot tub). I'll admit that Tyler and I get out quite a bit comparatively, but for me personally, it's been a rapid decline since getting married--less concerts, less walks, less festivals, exhibits, etc. So I occasionally lament these losses. But I'm trying to be part of my community here as well, which involves participating in things I never imagined myself doing.

On Sunday I went to church and listened to the women talk about ways to "simplify" our lives. They discussed 4 basic needs: food, shelter, clothing, and fuel (in this case, spiritual fuel). Then each gave tips of how to plan a menu, shop affordable clothing, and cut out things in our schedule. The irony is that they also announced the activities for the week and it seemed there was something every night, some class or lesson or social gathering that, while helpful or educational or even relaxing, was just another to-do on my calendar.

And while I do value recipe exchanges and child-rearing tips while men talk sports and work, I desperately wish there could be more talk about what makes us human. I wish there was more blood in these get-togethers.

And yet how can I decline invitations for some things I crave? I deem myself the snob for not participating in the neighborhood book club because their choices seemed all too fluffy. Feeling bad about that, I attended the get-to-know-each-other night in an effort to show my eagerness to be friends, and found myself saying things and talking about things I don't really care about just to be talking: "Yes I bought this eye-shadow at blah blah blah." "Yes I drive a blah blah blah."

When I picked out the book "Revolutionary Road" after seeing the movie preview, Tyler confessed worrying that it would make me feel more unhappy. His concern is validated by my fear that the price of happiness is to stop caring about your dreams. It may not matter if you never get to live someplace exotic with the person you love or if you don't have as many stimulating discussions as you'd like, or ever be as honest as you'd like on your blog and so on, but if that's what you want, must you give up on it to be happy? I'll probably end up realizing like the girl in "Love in the Time of Cholera" that I've been happy much of the time that I thought I wasn't.

So I guess it's kind of depressing, the book is, but reading it actually makes me realize how much I don't want to be like them. And how happy my relationships actually make me! I think I just get defensive when I sense a threat to an unattained dream. I am impatient to experience some of the things I want to experience and isn't that just as bad as being impatient to have luxuries that come after years of work?

Naked Ladies

Naked ladies is a nickname for the flower Amaryllis, one of my favorites. I have my mother to thank for introducing them to me. I remember many holiday seasons where the flower was purchased just after Thanksgiving in time to bloom for Christmas or the New Year. Since being on my own I think I've still purchased an amaryllis every year to enjoy. I love them for being so fantastically beautiful, and because it all happens so fast. When the bud bursts open I feel kind of a happiness inside and hope for the future. I'm not sure why, I love other flowers too, but they don't quite affect me in the same way.

This year's is a "clown" amaryllis because it is red and white. Maybe 2009 will be better than 2008, or maybe this night Bailey will sleep better than last, I'll take either.

When I lived in Longview, Washington, I went to see the LDS temple in Portland, which I think blows most others out of the water for its unique shape and beauty. Also, because Portland is so rainy they have an atrium just within the doors, in the waiting area for pictures just in case the weather is not accommodating new brides and grooms. I sat in this atrium once while my mom was doing some temple work and an older gentleman who worked there came to chat with me. He told me the amaryllises were imported from South Africa, where they are native to. I was impressed because I've never seen a group of them together and it was really spectacular. I don't have a photo, but I vow to take one if I visit that temple again.

Bailey blue eyes

Though I can't speak with 100% surety, I'm now pretty sure that Bailey's eyes are going to be blue. I love to dress her in blue to show them off even more. They are so beautiful! Why don't they make more blue little girl clothes?

It must have been a good Christmas

Apparently Bailey enjoyed Christmas so much that she has learned to make fun squealing noises. I'm hoping she'll be asleep when we ring in the New Year, but she's practicing her squeals anyway.

Books read in 2008

A Widow for One Year--John Irving
The Fountainhead--Ayn Rand
The Delivery Man--Joe McGinniss
Factotum--Charles Bukowski
Divisadero--Michael Ondaatje
One day in the life of Ivan Denisovich--Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
Saving Fish from Drowning--Amy Tan
A Planet Called Treason--Orson Scott Card
The Rum Dairy--Hunter S. Thompson
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas--Hunter S. Thompson
Beautiful Losers--Leonard Cohen
Mayflower--Nathaniel Philbrook
Screamfree Parenting--Hal Runkel
Hypnobirthing--Marie Mongan
Pregnancy, Childbirth, and the Newborn--Nancy Simkin
The Colony--John Tayman
Joseph Smith, Rough Stone Rolling--Richard Bushman
The Wilderness Journals of Everett Ruess

Erran Baron Cohen

This morning on my way to the gym I heard a part of the NPR interview of Erran Baron Cohen. He is Sacha Baron Cohen's brother and a musician. He recently made an album called "Songs in the Key of Hanukkah" and the discussion focused on that. He talked about the need for updated Hanukkah music and of his experience with the New York City rapper Y-love, who recently became an Orthodox Jew and can rap in English, Yiddish, and Aramaic. My favorite part was when he talked about dressing up like Hassidic Jews with his brother and the song about sweating that they would sing as they took off layers of clothing. It was an entertaining story and I was tempted to stay in the car and listen, but I finished it at home, turns out I only missed a few minutes because it's just 10 minutes long.

While I think that the copious amounts of Christmas music there is and of Christmas albums marking the end of dwindling music careers, is a bit ridiculous, I happen to actually like a lot of it. But the idea of a new Hanukkah album really intrigued me and I checked it out. I guess listening to more global music makes me feel more part of the world. In any case, I really liked it and found it worth passing on to my readers.

Serious about sledding

Bailey: "Should I hold really still?"

Caiden: "This is AWESOME!"

Bailey: "What did we just do Mom?"

Bailey: "I'm not sure yet if that was fun, but I'm glad you're holding me now."

Bailey is a tease

If you haven't seen these pictures yet, I'm posting them now because I just love them so much!

"Alene usually eats 5"

H.'s grandchildren were all at the funeral and most of them I hadn't seen for 10 years. The oldest son, A., recently came home from rehab in eastern Washington. I know he's having a hard time of it all while also trying to be strong for his single mom and for his grandma. I reminded him of some funny things he used to say and what a smart alec he was. He was 10 or 11 when I lived there. One time A. had spent the night at B. and H.'s and he and grandpa had picked up some donuts in the morning. When I woke up late and came out to the kitchen A. told me they'd gotten those donuts and he had picked one out just for me. It was a round donut with pink frosting and covered in sprinkles. A few minutes later B. came out and asked A. if she could have a donut too, to which he replied that there may not be enough because "Alene usually eats 5." Despite my penchant for donuts, I'm not sure that I've ever eaten 5 at one time in my life so I was as surprised as anyone else when he said that. I think of all those kids very fondly and though they hardly know me or remember me, there will always be a huge place in my heart for them.

The funeral was really beautiful. I've never wanted so badly to be able to give someone one last hug and not be able to, so I can't stop thinking of how much H.'s family must be hurting. At the cemetery it was very cold and rainy. We crowded as close together as we could. There was a gun salute for H.'s service in the Navy and they played Taps. I lost it again when they folded up the flag and gave it to B., thanking her for her husband's service, it was so beautiful.

I was grateful I could show my love and support to the family. Thank you to my Mom and Dad for flying me out there on their frequent flier miles and all the help with Bailey! I called them my Sherpas all weekend because they kept carrying all of my stuff for me. They also gave me a quick chance to see my brother's family in Kennewick, only a few hours away, and their children, including Bailey's new cousin Amber. Bailey was an absolute angel on the trip, sleeping through most of our flights and giving everyone lots of coos and smiles. I am so lucky to have such a sweet and happy baby!

2008 in Review

But it did happen

All of it happened. Eleven days ago H. walked himself into the hospital and yesterday he died. It was a complete shock to all of us and though I promised I wouldn't cry when talking to his daughter, the moment I opened my mouth I did. H. had 2 children, a daughter and a son who died in his early 20's. H. and B. moved to Washington to live close to their daughter who now has 5 children. He is the world to them as he was to his wife and daughter. I can't think of them without crying.

I knew them first when I was little. My twin sister and I used to visit their house just down the street and see their baby pigs. H. also reminded me that we used to sit on their laps in church and beg him to draw pictures for us, saying "make me a kitty-cat" and he would put his fist in front of our face and then open it up like performing a spell and say "Poof! You're a kitty-cat." Later he told me how he and B. would always quote something one of us once said: "I'm not talking to you again until next time."

The next time was several years later. My family had moved to Montana and they'd made a couple moves. My parents got in touch with them just months before all of this.

Here they are at my wedding reception in 2005. Fortunately I've gotten to visit them twice since then, the last time just last April. I was in Portland for a tradeshow and they were able to come down and see me. I am SO thankful for that visit!

I'll be heading up to the funeral this weekend.

Barbarian Invasion

"Les Invasions Barbares" is a Canadian film that I saw a few years ago. It quickly ranked within my top 10 favorite movies. It is the story of a man dying of cancer. His doctor has given him a limited amount of time to live and he gathers around him his loved ones and family. It is a simple plot and a simple movie. It is not visually stunning like my other favorite "Great Expectations." It is not overwhelmingly discouraging and comforting all at once like "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" or heroic like "The Last Samurai" or "Alive" nor refreshingly troubling like "The Mosquito Coast."

In fact, it is sometimes surprising to me that I like this movie so much, but I do. The old man's son is among the group gathering for his death and preparing for it. He is not close to his father, probably because he resents his father for straying from his mother. Also among the group is a fellow college professor, the ex-wife of main character, and 2 of his former lovers. Most of the movie is spent with the characters reminiscing over their pasts and their love of life. Some of the movie deals with the use of heroine for pain. I just love the way they talk of the passions they've shared, the theories they supported or thwarted, the way they viewed love and relationships and how they evolved for each of them.

As I write this portion I'm tearing up because I will soon be visiting a dear friend who is at this time experiencing his own barbarian invasion. He is probably the best person I've ever met in my whole life. H and his wife have been married for 49 years. He built their current home and then built another one onto it for their daughter and her 5 children.

H and his wife took me in when I was 18 and pregnant. I lived with them when I gave up my baby boy for adoption 10 years ago. I remember many times that H stopped and helped someone on their way. I remember him always volunteering at his grandchildrens school. I remember his stories of the military and of moving his family across the nation. I remember his stories of religious conversion. I remember stories of pain. I remember love and concern expressed and oil changed and windshields scraped. I remember sometimes having to shout to be heard and sometimes impatiently hoping he would drive faster. Above all, I am not sure I ever felt more loved in my life than I did then and I owe them everything I am for that.

Tonight my mom called and told me that H's doctor gave him 2 more weeks to live. He has a golf-ball sized tumor in his brain that very little can be done about. I don't know yet what I'll do, but I know I would love for him to see my baby Bailey. I know I would love for him to know how much he means to me.