Entries RSS Comments RSS

Posts Tagged ‘life’

Happy Moment

Sunday, September 27th, 2009

Today was busy, busier than usual.  A little crazy, and we got some new assignments and time commitments added to our plate.  All of a sudden (I dare to say) things seem just fine.  Change is starting.  We’re moving in the right directions.  We are where we are meant to be.

book

Tonight I laid on the floor and watched Camper push around a giraffe on wheels.  he saw me and came over, climbed up over my legs and on to my chest where he gave me a big kiss and then a hug.  Probably to make up for earlier when I said, “Can I have a hug?” and he gave me a squinty look and shook his head, “No.”  After that he crawled over to his books, picked out one and handed it to John, picked out another one and handed it to John as well, and then stood next to the chair picking up one foot and then the other for a minute suggesting: PICK ME UP.  John scooped him onto his lap and Camper cuddled in.  He loves to listen to stories, point at the smallest details in the pictures and say,

“Gulug gulug”

every once in awhile.

And he always give his “Giggle Baby” book a kiss at the end.

babykiss

Today in church he played with his mini magna doodle for about 10 minutes, making lines and then looking at me to erase them.  I was astounded by his concentration.

He spent some time in the nursery because I was helping my mom, and he played sweetly with the other little boy in there.  Even gave him a hug.  The other boy (older than him) said, “I give him cup! I help! I can do it!”  Other children are so important to my kid’s development.  I’m glad for things that make me see that.  They are not just little germ conduits.  There is some serious value in letting him play with others.  Sigh.

Although he has been high maintenance the last few days, he’s also been extra lovey.  And when he sees me give John a hug or kiss, or sees LaLa give Poppop a hug or kiss, he says, “Oooooooooooooooooo.”   It’s really freaking cute.

teeth

And you know what?  I’m pretty high maintenance myself.  So I can’t blame him for that.

Myself Revisited

Sunday, April 26th, 2009

I wrote this a couple of weeks ago:

Looking back at the last couple of years, I realized that I seem to have condensed quite a few years worth of events into a rather short period of time.  I met John in September of 2006, and we were engaged by January.  We had a longish engagement (for the area we lived in, where people usually get married within 3 months of the proposal) and were married in August of 2007.  I was pregnant by January, and had Camper in September.  When I left for my mission in September of 2004, I wrote in my journal that I hope life wouldn’t leave me out, or leave me behind because I was choosing to leave everything behind for a year an a half.  I’m suddenly realizing that it did not leave me behind, in fact…it almost put itself on pause, just waiting for me to get back so it could play itself out in good time.

It’s kind of crazy, but it’s played out like this:

May 2006: Home from England

September- met John

January 2007- engaged

September-married

January 2008-pregnant

September-Mommy

Big changes.  The funny thing is, I feel like I have been married forever.  I feel like I’ve been Camper’s Mom forever.  The reality is, however, that I have actually been living in this new life of mine for a relatively short period of time.  The last week or so, I’ve started to feel a growing feeling of nostalgia for the past, and a bit of sadness at my lack of effort to bring important things from my past into my future.  I spent a couple of hours in a crawlspace the other day, surrounded by boxes of journals and books and stuffed animals, and realized that I am in need of a renovation.  I’ve taken a break from the rest of life for a while now, and I think it was a good thing.   I needed time to get used to this new family of mine.  But now we’re in a situation where our baby is 6 months old, my health is finally under control, I’m NOT pregnant, and it’s time get back into the swing of things.

I wrote that after a recent visit with one of my best friends, Christine.  Her visit was timely for a lot of reasons, but mostly because it got me thinking about why I am who I am, who I used to be, and which parts of myself I’ve let get pushed into the background since my mission, Utah, marriage, baby, etc.  Here’s the thing: I’m not sad that I’ve changed and started new things, I love my family.  I’m just finally at a stage where I can start building on myself again, working towards things like career goals.

For anyone who knew, I had applied to a program through the University of Illinois, an online program that would have allowed me to become a librarian.  I thought that it would be the perfect plan for me, I was really psyched about it.  I would be able to get through the degree while staying at home with Camper, and then have a career helping students research in a university setting.  Academia.  It was perfect.

And then I didn’t get in.  Which really sucked.  I wondered what was wrong with my records that I didn’t get in.  My grades have always been really good, I’ve taken challenging classes.  I should have gotten in!  After I cried for a bit, moaning the loss of my newest plan, I was able to see that 1) Who knows if I wasn’t good enough, or if I was just one of MANY who were good enough.  Not everyone can get in.  Qualified candidates get turned away all the time, right?  2) I should have taken the GRE.  Even though it wasn’t “required” if you had a certain GPA, I’m thinking that to be seriously considered, I need to take it.  3) I don’t want to be a librarian.

I know.  I know.  In some ways that job would be perfect for me, but after talking to John, I realized that I was going for a career that would get me close to the life I wanted.  But why work with students when I want to BE a student?  Why help others with their research when I don’t feel quite done with school myself?

John asked me to really think about where I would have taken my education if I hadn’t interrupted it to serve a mission in England and then gone to BYU, gotten married and become a Mommy.  He also told me to look into full residency programs.  Taking that into account, as well as long conversations with Christine (my dream job, remember?) I thought, why does what I really want to do have to be a dream?

So the new plan.  I’m going to take this year.  I’m going to be at home with my son, teach piano lessons, study for and take the GRE.  And I’m going to apply to programs.  PROGRAMS.  Not one, but many, where I can get a Masters in Religious Studies.  So far, of the programs I’ve found, it looks like I’d focus on Religion and Culture, or something similar.  I’d be qualified to teach religion classes at any university that offers courses in religion.  I can focus my study on Catholicism and Interfaith Dynamics (these things really exist!) and maybe, just maybe, even participate in retreats again.  I can be excited about what I study, and teach things I’m really interested in.

I’ve hestiated to make this choice for many reasons.  It never seemed like a “real” thing to do to me.  A degree in religious studies rivals philosophy in the “what are you going to do with that?” department.  The answer: academia and service.  I can stay in academia, I can have a better chance of connecting with people through teaching about the Bible and gospel principles (and when I say this I don’t mean from my personal belief persepctive) and who knows?  maybe even get into retreats where ever I end up.  I’ve always shied away from being the “religious degree girl,” but why? Teaching religion is the most fulfilling thing that I can imagine doing.  Aside from motherhood, that is.  But I think I can have both.  I’ve also stayed away from studying Catholicism because while in Scranton, I felt very keenly that I was not as qualified as the students around me in the theology classes I took.  Well, that’s not true.  There were plenty of people who knew less than I did, but what I knew I knew as a Mormon girl.  And I wasn’t in the “inner circle” of theology students.  For some reason, the way I was interested in theology didn’t seem like the right way…to be interested…Now I’m realizing that perhaps I simply didn’t take enough time to figure it all out.  But I can do that now.

I’ll say that I’m still in the beginning stages of how to get this going.  But I’m not rushing it.  I’ve sent off some emails to different people in different programs (so far the two that have really caught my eye are Catholic University of America and University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill) just to open dialogue to the possibilites.  I’m going to take my time and find the program that will allow me to do what I want to do.

Orange Flintstone with a Purple Chaser

Tuesday, April 7th, 2009

You know your diet is out of control when you avidly await the hour that you’re supposed to take your childrens’ vitamin.  Tonight I discovered that the random “New England” breath smell John and I seem to get every once in awhile (me: WHAT IS THAT SMELL? John: I don’t know) is actually a side effect of the orange vitamin.  So I took a purple one just for good measure.  And all that AFTER I had brushed my old lady teeth (all of a sudden I need Sensodyne, anyway…) and will now probably have to brush again.

So yes, since my medical procedure kicked  me off a good streak, I’ve been doing less well at the post-baby diet thing.  My poor father.  (Wait for it, it will make sense soon.)  He really is the type of man to wait until my diet gets hard to wander around the house saying things like, “I’m going to eat a Klondike Bar.  Yum, yum, yum, I love these things.”  And then he gets my wrath.  The thing is, he’s not always trying to tease me with the food.  That only happens when we don’t actually have any of what he’s talking about.  No, in the case of the Klondike Bar incident, I’m pretty sure he was just excited to have a Klondike Bar.  And who am I to take that joy away from him? (Sorry I tried to take away your joy, Dad.)  You’ll be proud to know that I did not cave to temptation, I did not eat a Klondike Bar.  I just came upstairs, put my Bubby to bed, and had my two Flintsone Vitamins. I am now nourished, and one point under for the day.

In other news, things are getting stir crazy-ish around here again.  I mean, yeah, rain is good.  But SO MUCH RAIN?  I’m torn between wanting to go out somewhere, and not wanting to bundle baby up and go somewhere just for the sake of getting out.  Today I was able to run my errands in the morning during his nap (the benefits of having a SAHM AND a SAHgrandM available during the day), so I didn’t feel too cooped up.

It’s hard, because as a Mom (or PERSON), you have up days, and down days.  However, when you live with so many adults…some people may feel that down days are not an option.  I, at least, feel it incumbent on myself to be cheerful, conversational, helpful, every day.  And I fail.  And then I feel bad.  But here’s the thing: they aren’t an option, as in…you just get to have funky days.  The last couple days have been like that for me.  I go in and out of just being happy/content…usually when I’m playing with Bubby or working on something that needs to be done, and feeling a little gloomy.  This is where space and busy-ness are good things.  Space from other people keeps them from feeling like your mood is a reflection on them.  Busy-ness gives you something to do so you don’t just sit in a funk.  On the other hand, there is something to say for just relaxing a little bit, and letting things be gray and rainy for a few days.  I guess families just get to understand.  And I think I’m at least 12ish? years? away from having the kind of bad day that lets me retreat into my bed and hide.  And that’s only if I don’t have another kid.  Although he keeps me from sleeping away a day every now and then, I am lucky that I have my Bubs.  I know he’s been around for awhile now…but I am still not immune to his charms.  And the greatest thing is, he doesn’t even try.

So we’ll see what kind of night he has tonight.  Last night was the rough kind…waking up upset every few hours.  Could be teething, or growing, or just being a baby.  We’ll see if he rests more eaily this evening, and in turn, lets me do the same.

And by the way, I love my husband.  Just thought I’d add that today.

Seeking Peace

Friday, January 9th, 2009

We’ve been in MA for over two weeks now.  Looking at the dates, I could’ve sworn we’ve been here longer.  I guess it feels so long because we are still job seeking and trying to get ourselves together on this side of the world.  John has been filling out lots of applications and went yesterday to check some things out, so say a prayer that we find something soon.  Soon would be very, very good.

Today he went into the city (as in…Manhattan) to attend the temple.  I’ve never been to the Manhattan Temple, but I hope to go soon when I’ve been to the doctor and HOPEFULLY am able to travel with less discomfort.  (Next week people, hopefully we’ve figured out what it is this time…)  John and I don’t spend much time apart from one another, but since Bubby has arrived we’ve had to do more things on our own.  We take turns doing things we need/want to do that require us to be baby-free, and although I am a wee jealous that John gets to walk around the city (it would be nice to hold his hand and meander in the sunshine) I am honestly just glad he went.  For us the temple is a place where you can find extra peace, direction, and sometimes just a couple hours away from the rest of the world to center yourself and remind yourself of what is really, truly important.  And before you say it…I COMPLETELY agree, you don’t need to go to a special place to speak to God- that can happen anytime- and you don’t even need to go to a special place to hear from Him, anyone anywhere can hear from Him anytime.  BUT, sometimes it helps us feel his presence more directly when we do something special to remind ourselves to listen better.  Today John has driven a couple of hours and boarded a train and will take various other types of transport to get to the temple, at which time he will leave it all behind and hopefully have a couple hours of peaceful contemplation and hopefully feel…well…peace.  Everything will work out.

Aside from seeking for peace, and patience, I’m also seeking for some structure.  It’s so hard to feel good about what I do all day.  In some ways…it doesn’t.  When I’m snuggling Camper or talking to him or reading to him or playing with him, it feels good.  But sometimes I just feel like I’m just, here.  He honestly doesn’t need me every second, but he needs me often enough that it’s hard to do something else without interruption.  We talk and sing and read and cuddle and exercise…but what I get done in between is difficult to figure out.  Anyone have an endless list of fulfilling 15 minute activities?  I think I’m going to make it my priority to apply to school in the next few days, so at least I’m working towards that goal and getting it done.  Funnily enough, Camper doesn’t mind me being on the computer.  He likes to sit on my lap and watch me type for 20-30 minutes at a time.  Maybe he’ll learn to read this way?

We’ll see!