I want it

1. Logan had a 10-year-old's birthday come true. Grandma and Grandpa sent him an ipod (used). It was an early-release day at school (how often does that happen on October 24?). Our chef-to-be has been wanting to go to an authentic Italian pizzeria, so we surprised the family and went to Pizzeria Testa for lunch. For the record, we appreciate and prefer both the cost and the taste of American pizza. Then we went to a pumpkin farm; this ended up being a sort of sour experience because we paid to park and then realized we were at the wrong place and had to pay again to park next door at the better pumpkin farm. Also, after having lived in Ohio--fall farms here in TX are kind of lame. Still, it was a fun experience and the kids got to go on a hale-bale ride, so I have no regrets. Then we came home, Logan figured out how to put music and movies on his ipod and then spent the rest of the afternoon ignoring us with earbuds in his ears. He had a cub-scout pack meeting, where he received his Bear award (huge thanks to his scout leaders--I got a mom pin, but I have to admit that his scout leaders did all the work this year). He also got to do a skit with the Webelos--which he is now a part of because he is 10!

The biggest hang-up was the cake. He asked for a vanilla cake so I decided to make a Tres Leches cake. . . from a cake mix. Big mistake. It didn't turn out very tasty, so we let him go to the store to pick out a cake (at 8:00 p.m.) only to return and find out that we didn't have any birthday candles. So... Joe ran back to the store and I got the kids bathed and jammied and they all got to stay up late eating disgustingly frosted store-bought cake. Also, his primary teacher from church stopped by with a birthday balloon and some treats--he felt very loved on his special day.

Happy Birthday, Logan!! Somehow you have survived these 10 years, and I have every hope and faith that you will continue to not only be a surviver, but a contributor for good in every aspect of your life.

2. The dryer broke. Again. 11 days ago. Need I say more?

After some google diagnosing, I decided that an idler pulley was at fault--an estimated 60 minutes to repair. Joe, bless his soul, is not really the fix-it kind of person, which is mostly ok because his billable-hour rate is more than we can afford. I could probably fix it myself, but decided that my time is also valuable (and it would end up taking more than 60 minutes, I'm positive), so we decided to hire someone to do the work so that it would get done in a timely manner.

This person supposedly ordered the part, and 11 days, two trips to the laundry-mat, an entire week of dirty-clothes/sheets/towels/washcloths spewing out of every room, and way too many unreturned phone calls and texts (I could've done it myself by now!!!)--Joe finally texted the guy and told him we were going to get help from someone else. This new person--a friend from church--called to tell me that the part we need is in stock and he is going to come by today to fix the dryer. My new hero!!

More than a week of six people not washing clothes not only means a lot of laundry, but a lot of unhappy people who can't find things like underwear and pants that they like (some crying this morning over having to wear brand-new, unworn stretchy pants). Last night I did a small load and then started hanging the wet clothes over doorknobs, baskets, and after a few minutes I gave up and just spread the wet clothes all over the playroom floor. It looks amazing.

3. I found a house! (You can click on there to see it.) I mean--I've been eyeing this house for months. Months! Since July! Someone put an offer on it, but I guess it never went through. A friend of mine just got her real-estate license, so I asked her to show me the house and I brought another friend with impeccable taste to look at it with me. It's only 5 minutes closer to Joe's work, (although, maybe closer with all the traffic), but on .58 acres of land!! Back home, PA home, that's not a lot of land. Here, where .1 acre lots are the norm--it's humongous. It's a colonial with a big front porch and a big backyard--so it kind of reminds me of home, and maybe it would let me forget I live in a big city.

The house--I'm not super in love with--although it does have a tornado shelter, which is awesome. The spaces are kind of odd and it's old without a lot of updates.

After we looked at it, my friend took me for my first model-home tour: a 5,000 sq ft home that cost $500,000. At first I was like, "I don't need a house that big." But as I walked through I thought, "I NEED this!! How am I living without it?!" Hah!

But after looking at hundreds of homes online and lots of land. . . I need land. I need space! So here's what I want to do:

Buy that house and rip out the kitchen and bathrooms and put in something that I love. I would love to move some walls around, but for now--if the bathrooms and kitchen were updated I could wait for the rest to happen.

I'm dreaming of apple and peach and pecan trees in a nice row along the side fence. A good-sized garden--which I already got my dad to agree to help me do. I am even fantasizing about a small chicken coup in the corner of the lot, and I would send the kids out every afternoon to gather eggs. I'm going to spend my fall afternoons canning and dehydrating the fruit and vegetables from my yard and labor.

I'm sounding more and more like someone I never wanted to become. . . my parents!!

I hope it happens! If not at this house, something similar.

And in case you were wondering. . . Joe hasn't seen it yet. He's more inclined to buy the biggest, fanciest lawyerly home he can afford. I'm tricking him into this by convincing him this is what will save us when the world explodes. He's been reading end-of-the-world books and watching The Walking Dead, so his mind has been on emergency preparedness--I've been using that: land so we can be self-sustaining with a garden and animals, and guns so he can protect his family and property. It's by a lake, so if we needed water we wouldn't have to go too far. I know what you're thinking: I should've gone to law school, too.

Blah Blah Blah

We got married.

I will finish the story someday.

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Do you ever have days where you feel like things are going great and you are doing an ok job

And then some days you just feel yucky and confused and you just want to move and start over?

Maybe you don't even know why?

I'm just talking about a friend. You know, maybe you have some advice I can share with her?

****************

Logan turns 10 tomorrow. I'm scared. These 10 years went by so fast and over breakfast he said something like, "just think, I've lived 10 years and if you double that I will be 20 and it will happen just as fast as the last 10." I said, "STOP! Just stop!!!"

Define the Relationship

Finding an eternal companion is a daunting task. How do you choose that one person out of billions? Not to mention the mix of gender and personality differences and backgrounds....man, making a marriage work with two very different people is not easy! Just look at the divorce statistics! Devout members of the LDS faith (Mormons) believe in total abstinence before marriage and complete fidelity after marriage. In order to help members of the church resist the temptations of immorality, church colleges, such as Ricks (now known as BYU-Idaho) have strict honor codes that students sign each school year. Some of the rules include: no members of the opposite sex past the living room; a boys'/girls' out curfew (10:00 on weekdays, 11:00 on weekends), and nightly curfews. Also, you are never supposed to be alone in an apartment with a member of the opposite sex. These rules and guidelines are great--but it is hard to get to know someone and know if you are ready to commit to forever when you are never alone long enough to talk about real concerns/issues that come up.

In the LDS culture, we call some of these conversations "DTR's" (define the relationship), not to be confused with the LDS acronym, "CTR," (choose the right), although we should acknowledge that CTR should be used during a DTR.

Surprise Surprise!  Joe and I have had our fair share of serious, private conversations, including DTR's. Pretty much all of these conversations were instigated by Joe, probably because he found it very entertaining to make me feel uncomfortable. And he did--because they are awkward and I didn't know what to say and if it were up to me we would've kept all serious conversation in the form of carefully crafted high-schoolish notes read while the other person wasn't around.

On one particular occasion, Joe and I found some much needed privacy at a duck pond. We drove there, walked for a while, fed the ducks some bread, and when it started to get cold and dark--we sat in the car and kept talking. WE WERE NOT PARKING!! Please believe me--making out would have been much less awkward. Instead, we were talking about uncomfortable DTR stuff. I am guessing it was about 8:00 p.m., but dark, and all of a sudden, lights started flashing behind us. One police officer was standing at Joe's car door and one was standing at mine. Joe rolled down the windows and they asked me to step out of the car and walk to the back. One officer started interrogating me while the other started questioning Joe, asking to see his I.D. I was horrified. "Why are you here? What relation are you? Is he pressuring you to do anything you do not want to do? Where do you live? Would you like us to drive you back to your apartment?" Oh my Heck! I kept repeating myself, "We are friends. We were talking. No, we were not even making out, and no he's not trying to rape me! I trust him to take me home!" Needless to say, that was one way to cut a DTR short, and a date that I will never forget.

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One afternoon our FHE brothers (another Mormon acronym for Family Home Evening--a group of boys and girls that get together every Monday night for a lesson, chocolate, and fun activity) were at our apartment. It was dinner-time and I was cooking in the kitchen. I was facing the wall/cabinets, probably cutting up vegetables, and one of them started asking me questions about Joe. Something like this:

Him: How long have you been dating?
Me: A few months.
Him: Have you guys started talking about marriage?
Me: What? No! No way! I'm going on a mission. I don't like him like that. He's funny and nice and fun to be around, but I'm not marrying him!

Anyway, you can see how the conversation was going. My roommates got in on it and were laughing, and finally I turned around and saw:

Joe sitting on a chair in the corner of the living room.

I still don't know whose idea it was to tease me (and him) by asking all those questions. It wasn't fair to either of us, but it happened and I couldn't undo it.

Joe didn't stay too long after that, and he left with very hurt feelings and some distrust.

We were on the phone all night with an impromptu DTR. It must have gone ok, because we're still together!

Raising the Dates

Joe invited me to go to a Halloween concert/dance. I decided to dress up goth--black turtleneck, black pants, lots of eyeliner, a pale foundation, and then I blackened my lips with the eyeliner. I wrote in my journal, "I looked pretty scary, if I do say so myself." Later, Joe informed me that I did not look one bit scary, but that he actually thought it looked "hot" (his words, not mine--I seriously thought I looked scary). The other memorable part of this evening is that as we walked outside after the concert, Joe tried to kiss me. I pulled my head away and I think I said, "sorry, I'm not ready for that." I'm sure he was embarrassed (and probably not real happy I'm including this!), but I think it's pretty awesome that I stood up for myself--and that he kept dating me anyway. (Joe, you know you'd want Madison to do the same thing, so don't be embarrassed!)

(Joe's secretary scanned some of these pictures, and I can't figure out how to get rid of all the extra spaces. Also, this is the only goth picture I could find.)

The fall is always busy with holiday preparation and celebration; our holiday season is especially busy because of birthdays. Joe was turning 22 on November 4, and we decided we needed to throw him a Texas birthday party. (Side note, three of the guys in Joe's apartment were from Texas, and I think they adopted the one from California, so he was almost Texan. They had Texas flags and blankets and cutting boards. They were crazy. And now I live in Texas. Agh!) 

I found a recipe for Texas Hash (basically stuffed peppers with the peppers cut up in the rice) and Texas Sheet cake. We made decorations out of paper grocery sacks, construction paper, and tinfoil. We girls dressed up like cowgirls with checkered button-down shirts tucked into our bluejeans. Boots weren't in fashion back then, neither were big earrings--I remember because I had some big hoops I that I wore that night and everyone laughed. I don't know what the boys thought when they came over. We weren't used to cooking for big crowds, so at the last minute we decided to make some macaroni and cheese for a filler. I don't know if we had a salad or not--I think it was a very starch-heavy meal.

The boys laughed and gave us a hard time, telling us that they had never eaten "Texas Hash" in Texas--but it was good, nonetheless. Joe later told me that he thought to himself that he would have to get used to my "Yankee Cooking." (Did you see his facebook post about liking my Yankee butternut squash soup? I guess he's gotten used to it. And my cooking has gotten a lot better. :) 

(One of the place mats, a Texas decoration, and Joe's Sheriff badge. I don't know how to turn it on here.)

And then it was Thanksgiving! We didn't eat together--I stayed at Kathleen's grandmother's house and he went with some friends to a giant family party. The next day we drove down to Salt Lake, visited temple square, went to the conference center, went to Park City (where they were getting ready for the Olympics), and went ice-skating. We took many pictures--including in front of the Salt Lake temple, which makes me think that Joe was already trying to send me marriage hints. Hah! The most memorable thing to me is that we went to this Vietnamese restaurant, where Joe introduced me to Pho. I  was a little weirded out when they put the raw meat in my soup, but I might've agreed to marry him right then if he had promised me Pho once a week. His roommate, Jeff, was with us, though, and he was really unhappy with our food choice--I found that extremely humorous for some reason.

(Joe's favorite picture from that Thanksgiving trip. He framed it and gave it to me at the beginning of the new year.)

After Thanksgiving break it was time to start thinking about finals and going home to PA for Christmas. I was feeling homesick and confused and was looking forward to some time to think. It was also a stressful time in our newly formed relationship, because many of the friends back at home were guys that I planned on hanging out with over Christmas break. I had dated someone the previous summer, and though he and I had agreed that it was ok to date other people--and  I had told him that I was hanging out with a guy at college--I hadn't quite explained that Joe and I were quickly becoming more than friends. My experience had been that once guys knew you were taken--they didn't want to be your friend anymore. This was a worry for me and a sore spot with Joe and me. 

Getting to Dating

About 7 months after getting hitched, Joe and I were invited to watch Edward Scissorhands  at a friend's house. This friend, Josh, had played in a band with Joe, and I had gone with Joe to Josh's mission homecoming a year earlier. He had been married for about two months. For some reason, Joe and I arrived a bit late with a pan of brownies. We didn't want to interrupt the movie, so we just sat down on the floor next to another couple that neighbored with Josh and his wife, Karen. After the movie, we stayed and chatted for about an hour, but the other girl didn't say a word. I figured she was shy, and after a bit I (once again) decided to go out of my comfort zone to try and involve the girl in the conversation. I said something like, "We haven't been introduced. I'm Jenn, what's your name?" "Somerli."

Holy Crap. I had only heard of one person with that name. . . the girl Joe was dating the semester we met in Mandarin class. 

I think I said, "Oh." And that pretty much ended the conversation. I didn't know what else to say and to be honest, I was ready to get out of there.  

We can laugh now (and we did last night--because writing all of this down is bringing up a lot of fun memories), but at the time it was extremely uncomfortable and I felt a weird sense of competition! 

I asked Joe why he didn't say something to me earlier that night. He said that he was shocked to see her sitting in the room, and we were late so introductions were never made. And then the longer we were there, the more awkward it would have been to bring it up. 

**********************

I had met her one other time--Ricks Homecoming, September 2000. I went with Backstreet Brad (the boy who sang and danced to N'Sync and the Backstreet Boys) and Joe went with Somerli. We ran into each other--I think on some stairs--and we introduced each other to each other's dates. I guess I never really looked to see what she looked like, though. Obviously. (I have pictures from that dance, but Joe told me that I shouldn't do anymore pictures of pictures and said he would scan them for me at his office, but secretly I think he just took them all so I couldn't post them. ;) Check back later, they might get added.)

It must be that he broke things off with her sometime towards the end of September or the beginning of October because after General Conference that fall he and his apartment invited my apartment to go over and play soccer in some fields (there were lights, I think). It was cold, and we were getting bundled up at our apartment when Brad and his pose (Moses and Big Russ) came over to visit. We explained that we were going to meet some friends for soccer and invited them to come along. They did.

Apparently that didn't go over so well, because it became an angry-ish game between the two boys' apartments and I had to hear from everyone later about how they hated each other. Joe's apartment said Brad was a loser and Brad's apartment started calling Joe "Eskimo Joe." I felt stuck in the middle (which I guess I was--but honestly, I was so naive that I never considered that it would be a problem to have my guy friends get together to play soccer). I don't think I saw very much of Brad after that, and when I did I was usually with Joe, so that was kind of awkward, too.

Looking back, I realize how some communication skills would have been super helpful, because no one knew what was going on, and I was afraid of hurting someone's feelings and losing friends. 

Our first official date was a double date with one of Joe's roommates--we can't remember if it was Johnny or Jeff, and I haven't found the pictures, yet. We went to Mesa Falls, about an hour's drive away, and enjoyed the sights, walked a little, and Joe made a picnic lunch. If I remember right, it was a lunchable kit and sparkling cider. He wore a hat, too, and I sent pictures to my mom (snail mail, because digital cameras and easy ways to post pictures were unheard of) and she told me she needed a different picture so she could see what his hair looked like. He does have nice hair. :)  

Joe started hanging out more and more at my apartment, and one night we (I know at least the girls in my apartment, but maybe some of Joe's roommates were there, too?) were watching a movie and Joe and I were sitting by each other on the floor. The backs of our hands were almost touching, and somehow they started to touch, and we held hands for the first time. 

Growing a Friendship

(This is part 2 of a continued narrative of how I met/fell in like/love with Joe. If you missed part 1, go back and read it.)

It became quickly apparent that Mandarin was not going to be as easy to learn as I thought it would be. The grammar and sentence structure are not too difficult, but the different tones and characters are hard to learn. Tutoring with a native speaker was made available a few weeks into the semester, and we (Kathleen and I) were smart enough to know when we needed help and extra practice. Ironically, Joe and his roommate, Dave, also showed up to take advantage of the free tutoring.

It is difficult to know how much information to share, especially because other people are involved, but for the sake of record-keeping, I'm going to stick to the truth as I know it as much as possible. Since we are all happily married with families, I hope the people in my stories can forgive me, and correct me if I am wrong.

So anyway, Joe and his roommate, and me and my roommate, were in the class and in tutoring. Language classes (at least Mandarin), unlike many other college classes, are held daily--so you quickly gain a friend-family after spending so much time together. Naturally, the four of us grouped and paired up, though I honestly do not remember who initiated what. What I do know is that both boys had a good sense of humor and were fun to be around. My roommate kind of liked Joe's roommate, and Joe has since told me that his roommate thought I was cute and was trying to find a way to ask me out on a date.

One of our first conversations went like this:
Joe: Why are you taking Mandarin?
Me: I taught English in China last semester and I came to love the people and the culture, and someday I want to live there. I AM going to go back, and this time it would be nice if I could speak the language. Why are you in this class?
Joe: So I can talk to my wife.
Me: okay.

Joe says he doesn't like me to bring up that story, and he claims he was just being funny, but the reality is that he (and I think his roommate) had what is known as "yellow fever." They (like all of us) found Asian girls to be very attractive. Now whether or not that is really why he took the class--you decide. Or ask him. (Or ask me. I will tell you some more of our pre-dating conversations on the subject!) The funny thing is that it really did come true. I mean. . . my Chinese isn't fantastic (I've forgotten most of it, but we do occasionally try to communicate with the phrases I do remember, mixed with the Spanish I almost remember), but if he hadn't taken the class, we wouldn't be husband and wife!


Not long after the semester started, Joe missed several days of class. When we asked his roommate, he explained that his best friend had been killed by a drunk-driver and Joe had driven to Texas to attend the funeral. I don't know what kind of student Joe was before this event, but after--he often skipped class and was not very studious. You are surprised, right?! So Kathleen and I started going to his apartment to check-up on him and to make sure he was ok. I have never really given any thought about whose idea it was, but last night I went through some old paper memories (I'm so glad Joe is a saver, because I would've thrown them all away), and I found these cards that we had made--well, they are all in her handwriting and with her creative talent--so I can only assume that she was the thoughtful one of the two of us, although I did tag along.

(sorry, I don't know how to turn this)

The first time we went to his apartment we were completely disgusted by the filthiness of the kitchen. Every dish in the place was scattered across the tiny room with food dried to it. Kathleen and I filled up the sink and got to work scrubbing the kitchen. In return, a few days (weeks?) later he took us both to watch Meet the Fockers in Idaho Falls. (Clearly, he didn't know me well, and I didn't know him well enough to tell him I hated stupid movies!) On the way home he stopped at a gas station and bought us each an Energy Sobe.

(the money went into pocket)

Not long after we started talking, we discovered that Joe gave the best boy-advice. So we'd go to him with our stories and our worries and he would listen and tell us things like, "Boys are kind of stupid sometimes. What about...." We really liked that he admitted how dumb boys were. One particular question I had for him had to do with a boy who would come to visit me and seemed to be interested in me, but when I went to his apartment all he did was show me pictures that all these girls had given him. I was confused by the mixed signals; Joe said he was trying to make me feel like if I wanted him I better move fast before someone else did. I gotta' tell you. That guy's plan backfired. It just made me mad and I swore never to go back to his apartment again.

One day in class, Joe started bragging about his cooking prowess. We laughed and played along, and to prove himself, he took me (did Kathleen come, too?) to Broulims to buy the ingredients for chili and then made us chili from scratch. I don't remember if I liked it, but I love his chili these days, so I probably liked it then. No matter what, I thought it was pretty cool that he could cook.

Sometime in September or October he started dating a girl and I started dating a boy. We would talk to each other about our like-interests and our plans for the weekends. We were on our way to becoming good friends.

The other side of the story

In the previous post Jennifer offered a version of our meeting. I don't have time to address the inaccuracies, so I'm sharing the next step in our relationship with a post from a few years past: How the Jenn was Won.

First Introductions

A year or so ago I enjoyed reading the Pioneer Woman's book, Black Heels to Tractor Wheels. So, using her as my inspiration, here's the story of how I met my husband.

After living in China for four and a half months, I decided that I was going to find a way to return and live there as an ex-pat with my future family. Since it would be convenient if I could talk to the people, I decided to take Mandarin Chinese when I returned to Rick's college in the fall of 2000. A little moral support is always nice, so I convinced my friend/roommate, Kathleen, into also taking the class. Looking back, I'm not really sure why she did, except that she was a good friend and had gone to China with me the semester before.

I arrived early the first day and took a front-row seat in the right-hand corner (the desks were set up in u-shaped rows). I was naively enthusiastic and ready to master the Chinese language. A few minutes later, a big guy with dark hair walked in and sat on my left, the row behind me. I recognized this guy because he had been in the sociology class I had completed a few weeks before. I clearly remember the thoughts going through my head: do I ignore him and pretend like I don't recognize him OR do I say hi and acknowledge that this is the second class we are in together? 

Now, I should note, that I was/am not a social butterfly. I don't know how to initiate conversations with strangers and I often feel awkward around people.  But--I had just gotten back from China and was more confident and wanted to take a little more social risk. I was also afraid of seeming rude or stuck-up (I have had many people tell me that I come across as stuck-up/unfriendly because I don't initiate conversations, when really it's because I don't know how to.)

So I took a big breath, smiled, and said, "So how'd you do in the sociology class?"

Joe looked at me and said, "Oh. Were you in that class?"

Fail! So stupid! Why didn't I just follow my usually anti-social instinct and keep my mouth shut?

So we had some sort of awkward conversation where we introduced ourselves and said a few short sentences about the class and our teacher, and then I turned around (probably with red cheeks) and firm in the decision that I would never initiate another conversation. At least not with him.

(Of course, now I realize that the reason I recognized him and he did not recognize me is that he is not afraid to talk in class, so I heard him voice his opinion plenty of times during that sociology class and I.... I don't think I raised my hand once.)

My first impressions of Joe were that he dressed nicely, but was loud, and opinionated. I was not really very attracted to him. He wasn't attracted to me, either, but he will have to tell you his side of the story someday.

Time Out

First of all, you know that there are kids when you go to sit down at the computer and realize that the desk and mouse are sticky. Yuk.

Last night and today I went to conference called "Time Out for Women." It was marvelous. Good music, good talks, good friends--we all need a time out once in a while! (Me. . .well, I've been spoiled with a lot of "time-outs" lately, but I bought my tickets before I realized I would be gone for a week. Oh well!)

Joe wasn't home before I needed to leave, so I dropped the kids and the van keys off at a friend's and kept the car/house keys that are usually attached to my van keyring. That was last night.

Today I got a text from Joe shortly after lunch telling me that he was locked out of the house with all four kids. They decided to go out for lunch, visit REI, and stop at Half-Priced Books. A little later I got a text telling me that Madison had found a book and Joe wanted permission to buy it. Normally he wouldn't ask for permission--but this was a special book.

Now, just so you remember, we are really open about talking about puberty and sex with the kids. So I decided the book was probably ok and told him to use his judgement. I guess Joe flipped through it because about a minute later he texted: "It's got a drawing of a penis. How do you feel about that?" Again, I told him to use his judgement, and then he texted, "she thinks Logan needs to read it, too."

I just couldn't stop laughing. So he bought the book for Madison and she has been reading it all afternoon and coming to me with questions about tampons and giving me quizzes about what to do in certain situations. I looked at the drawing and it's not too pornographic--she has seen much more from her three brothers. I don't know if she will get Logan to read it, though.

Not long after that I realized that I also did not have my house keys, as I had carpooled with some friends to the conference. I advised Joe to check the kitchen sink window to see if it was unlocked--it's a half window over the sink. About an hour later I got a text informing me that he, Joe, crawled through the window. Y'all know that would be a pretty funny (and impossible) picture. Logan crawled in and saved the day.

Now BYU is winning, the kids have had their snacks, and it's time to go to bed and start all over again tomorrow. And I wouldn't have it any other way!

Black Eyes and Confidence

Last night I took Logan to scouts, and when I got back the kids were putting on their shoes to get ready to go for a walk around the lake. Joe asked me if I thought Grant looked like a picture of him (Joe), and when I looked at Grant--he had a black eye! Apparently Ammon head-butted him while they were playing together.

I wish I had a picture of it. . . it was swollen and black all the way around.

This morning I asked Grant what he was going to tell his teacher about his eye. His cheerful reply: "Oh, my little brother bumped me, he didn't mean to hurt me."

Madison then suggested, very seriously, "Mom, if you write a note to his teacher and explain what happened and that Grant is embarrassed about it, they will let him wear sunglasses all day to hide his eye."

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Confidence. I have been thinking about that word/concept a lot lately. I am drawn to people who are a little bit different and confident in their differences. Now you know why we are friends. ;) Just kidding. 

I have been wondering what makes a person confident? What do confident people look like? How do they get confidence? 

I don't know all the answers, but I have decided that most importantly, confidence comes from within. It isn't based on what other people think or say about you, or about how you compare to other people. It is knowing who you are and being ok with that.

How do you get it? If I had the answer and could write it in a blogpost: I would be a millionaire. 

But confident people stand up tall. They don't do things simply to compete with other people or worry about how they measure up to other people. Confident people are usually good at what they do, but because they enjoy it and they do their best for the purpose of being their best--not so that they can beat other people.

So I have decided to really focus on me. Not in a selfish way, but in the way that I do things because they are right and good for me, not because I'm expected to or because someone else does. I don't know if that makes sense.

At the beginning of September I started doing pilates every morning, first thing, so that I can really focus on my core and posture. I notice that sometimes, when I feel nervous or don't want to be noticed, I tend to slouch--as if that could hide my 5'8" frame! It seems to be working, and it feels good to square my shoulders and stand up tall, confident.

I am really trying to beef up my spirituality, because I think that part of being confident is knowing who I am, and if I KNOW that I am a child of God--royal heritage!--that is something to be confident about. 

I want to use my time better, to increase my talents, to gain knowledge, to serve my friends and family-not because I'm competing with other moms, but because that is what helps me to feel successful as a person. I don't want to feel like I need to do things to be liked or to be recognized by the world--I only need to worry about doing my personal best. 

It's kind of funny that when I have something on my mind, it transfers over to what I teach my kids. For example, Logan has been trying to beat everyone in his 4th grade class for math and reading points. He has had his picture on the school's hall wall for the last few weeks. I'm super proud of him, but I want him to know that he shouldn't do it to beat his classmates, but that he should be setting these goals to push himself and to do his personal best--and I want that attitude to transfer over into everything that the kids do.

Joe says it's different when it comes to sports--you want to beat the other team/person. I don't know. Obviously, winning is great, but I still think that the goal shouldn't be to beat the other person, but to continue to improve our personal best. Hmm. What do you think? Do you want to be #1 in your class because you prove you are smarter than your peers, or do you want to be #1 because you are smart and you worked your very hardest and that was the natural (good) consequence? 

So confidence. That's what's on my mind.

***************

P.S. I had a most terrific sister's week, thanks to my wonderful Joe. I might, maybe, get around to blogging that. Next time.

I'm Not Playing With Movies

We bought a new DVD player right before we moved to Texas. It was the cheapest one we could find, but we expected it get us through. About 8-9 months later it started making rattling noises so loud it was hard to hear the movie playing. Money was kind of tight, and I figured out that if I pushed down the DVD player the noise went away. So what did I do? I got some bungie cords and wrapped them around the DVD player a few times. It looked horrendous, but worked, and then we asked for a new DVD player for Christmas.

We were given the same one we already had.

So I unplugged everything and replugged and a few days later it started rattling. Stupid cheap DVD players!! I decided that if we were going to have a rattly DVD player we might as well stick with the one we already had and would take the other one back to Target. So I did the whole unplugging bit and retrieved the older player (I don't know why I still had it, but I did). I noticed that it rattled as I picked it up, so I plugged it in and opened it and shook it. 

Three DVD's came out.

I'm not kidding.

2.5 year old Grant had been trying to figure out how to watch movies, I guess.

Yesterday I came downstairs from doing something and Ammon ran to the stairs to greet me. "Mom, I'm not playing with movies!" "Oh good, because you aren't supposed to be playing with movies!" "I'm not!" "Good!"

You'd think that after being a mom for 10 years, I would know there was something wrong with that statement, "Mom, I'm not playing with movies!" 

I just thought he was being sweet, innocent, Ammon.

Until I tried to put in my pilates DVD a few hours later and the DVD player started shaking and rattling. I connected all the dots and opened that thing up and found not only a DVD but a Star Wars wii game.

Surprise surprise! Ammon is 2.5 years old.

Deja vu! 

We only panicked for a few minutes when the wii game wouldn't work, but mom worked her magic and wiped the smudges off and made some kids very happy. 

Satisfaction

Reality check: being a stay at home mom (SAHM) can be kind of a non-glamorous job. First off, there's no paycheck, and let's be honest, by all worldly viewpoints, the bigger your paycheck, the more successful you are. Ouch. People who "don't work" are often seen as lazy, uneducated, and have a lack of ambition.

*Now, let me note, that we are very grateful for the women in our lives that work. My children have fabulous school teachers, our pediatrician is a woman, my mom is a principal, and all around us are good women who work. I'm not contesting what is better, only making an observation from my point of view.

Sometimes being a SAHM can feel unrewarding; sometimes it might feel like the only time people notice what you do is when you don't do it. Sometimes it is hard to feel satisfied--although, again, I would like to recognize that this feeling is probably a worldly, wanting recognition, feeling. But sometimes I feel that way.

But today: I feel satisfied.

Yesterday Logan tried out for the district 4-6 grade honor choir. He got in! I went to pick him up from school (that means 90 minutes every week of extra practice) and I had the opportunity to see him mingling with his peers. He appeared confident and happy. I remembered my own middle/high after-school practices, and I felt excited for him. He is growing up and really gaining his own personality, and so far--he's doing great. That gives a mom satisfaction.

Madison filled out an application for a club at school called Kindness and Compassion Kids. I asked her a few questions and I think it's a precursor to Student Council. The kids pledge to help others and do things at school like food drives and planning activities. I asked her why she wanted to be in it (because she is good at making friends and helping people and wants to have more opportunities to help plan events). And she will be great at all of those things! I asked her if she was applying because her friends were, and she said she didn't know anyone else who was applying--and that made me happy, too. She's doing this because it's something she is interested in, not because of outside influences. That gives a mom satisfaction.

So no one notices when the toilets get cleaned, the floors mopped, or how the shelves stay stocked with favorite foods--but--this. This growing up and learning and taking new risks and opportunities. This is satisfaction.

*******************

And in response to my last post. I was surprised by the response I had on my rhetorical question and blog post. Not only by the amount of response, but by the varied responses! Thank you everyone for your thoughts and tips and advice. I have thought a lot about it since I first had the idea on Sunday. I also looked up the price of plane tickets. OUCH! They are double what they were a year ago when Joe last went to China! So for now. . . I will keep checking the price of plane tickets. . . and keep saving our money!

As for what I have decided other than that--I don't know! I have a hard time making decisions and tend to really think things through. This would not be an impulse decision! I am also a money-saver. It would not be something we would ever go into debt for and would not spend the money unless we knew everything was in great order and it would not hurt our finances. 

I was surprised at the general impression that traveling with kids is hard and less meaningful--maybe because we have traveled great distances with kids our entire kid-experience. This summer we put about 10,000 miles on our van as we traveled from Texas to California to NW Pennsylvania and New York! The kids travel wonderfully and I think they even enjoy most of the stops along the way.

This summer we went to the Grand Canyon, Las Vegas, Death Valley, Yosemite, San Francisco, Monterey Bay, traveled down the Pacific Coast highway, Los Angeles, Disneyland, and Phoenix. It was a whirlwind trip (and like I mentioned, we took another one out east a week later), and not without some complaining, but well worth every minute and dollar spent. Ammon is the only one who won't remember, but I don't feel too bad because my personal experience is that the baby is going to get a lot of things that the older kids don't! 

We studied out all the places we were going; the kids did a lot of googling and fact-telling. We provided them with journal prompts and they were in charge of keeping detailed records each day of the trip.

Just last week Madison told me (while I was doing her hair) that they had talked about Fisherman's Wharf and The Golden Gate Bridge at school. She told her class that she had been those places and they had an impromptu question and answer session. (That is satisfaction!) 

Grant especially remembers the Grand Canyon and has asked me several questions about it recently. 

Years ago (when I was educated and making money) I went to a teacher training class in Idaho and a study was the topic of the discussion. This particular study (I wish I had the source for you) showed that kids who travel over the summer actually gain knowledge, where kids who stay home lose quite a bit of knowledge (to be fair, they don't know why. They don't know if it is the experience or because the families that travel probably have more income and are better educated). If you have noticed--the first month of school is all about playing catch up and trying to get back to where you left off the year before. 

Traveling and new experiences teach us how to make connections with the world and people surrounding us (I'm focusing on world-travel). We not only learn about cultures and histories, but we learn about compassion and how other people live and maybe even how we can impact the world around us for good. 6 weeks in China--any country--would of course include exciting adventures. Madison wants to walk on the Great Wall and Logan wants to see the monks in Shaolin. Not to mention all the real-life applications we would learn! How to read a map, buy a train ticket, or how to move to plan B when something goes wrong. I'm telling you--travel makes a person confident!! Plus, you know, it's fun to make memories together as a family.

So what will we do? Who knows! It's one of those things we have to balance: living for today while planning for the future. It sure is fun to think about, though. Thanks for thinking about it with me!

*I realize I never did post about our trip. It might never happen. Here are just a few pictures.

The Golden Gate Bridge. Time of day made it hard to get a good shot.

We survived Death Valley!

The Grand Canyon

Yosemite

Yosemite

Potty break on the Pacific Coast road. The big kids were so embarrassed.

Pacific Coast. It was SO beautiful. 

This is excitement... from one kid, anyway.