Last days

As we approach the end of the school year I have been aware that I'm living in some pretty precious days. My little daughter will be in kindergarten in the fall. While I've never been a mom who cries sending her babies off to school, this time it's a little different. She's the youngest. She's the only daughter. She's herself. And we have had a lot of wonderful time together.

With my boys, things were different, for different reasons. S's preschool year was difficult because we were new to California, we were struggling financially, and his ADHD was not yet diagnosed. When A was in preschool, I was busy working full time. K's preschool years involved not just that full-time job but also the juggling of fost-adopt troubles and trials. I never really got to just hang out with any of them. I did the very best I could and I don't want to dwell on what we didn't have.

But with Z I have gotten so much great time. I'm a stay-at-home mom with some minimal freelance work going on. She goes to preschool two hours a day, four days a week. We go to the YMCA. We do the grocery shopping. I help chaperone her school's field trips. We take hikes or walks, or kidnap Dr. G to go out to lunch. We take mental health days to curl up on the couch and watch movies.

Today we went to the mothers' luncheon at her preschool. She sang a lot of cute songs about mommies, and my heart felt a little too big for my chest. We made a silly hat from tissue paper and decorated it with ribbon and cutout paper flowers. We chatted with our friends and ate lunch and cake.

I'm so grateful for these days. I'm so grateful for my girl.

Hollywood

Today I am having a little rebellion. I skipped the gym and did not take a shower. I bought a bag of pop chips and I'm eating lunch in the rec room, something I don't allow the kids to do. You might be surprised, in a life like mine, how much a tiny, ridiculous flouting of the rules can lift your spirits. Especially on a day when the temperature has suddenly dropped 25 degrees and the wind will eat you alive. (I have still been productive in non-typical ways. I did the grocery shopping and some writing. Just so you don't think I'm being a couch potato.)

Anyway I still had to do the preschool pickup and dropoff. I looked a little messy. My favorite crocheted beanie (super simple, super soft variegated purple baby alpaca wool) was sitting by the door from the last time I walked the dog at night, as were my silly large dollar-store sunglasses. I grabbed both.

It's so movie-star, right?

Bonus: our dentist, who is also our friend from church and has a son who goes to preschool with Z (it's a small town; if you have a friend you pretty much see them everywhere) looked kind of bewildered when I said hi. On the way out he apologized profusely for failing to recognize me. I told him, "That's the whole point!"

I am so paparazzi-proof!

Gracefully

I wrote this post last night and scheduled it to publish today, but it disappeared. I don't get it. Apparently the sophisticated stuff on Blogger (eye roll) is too much for me to handle. Anyway I think I can write it a little better today, so here goes.

It starts with a funny story told on myself.

Monday I went to pick Z up from preschool. It had rained in the morning, or maybe snowed a bit, leaving the parking lot a little muddy. One good mucky spot was right outside where I parked my glorious, dented-up, Obama-stickered Honda minivan. Shush, it is paid for and works great.

On the way in, I stepped in the mud, unaware. I wiped my feet and vowed not to make the same mistake twice.

So, back to the car with my little person, I executed a graceful leap over the muddy spot. If you know me at all you should already be laughing. Wait, there's more.

I launched myself directly into the door frame. The contact point was the middle of the top of my forehead. It smarted. I might have seen a few stars. I couldn't stop the tears, but I did manage to get in and close the van door for some privacy and then laugh and cry at the same time. Z was a little perplexed but someday she will have PMS, too, and understand how it makes you klutzy and emotional. I wonder if she will remember her silly mama.

I make all kinds of mistakes lately. Things that make me feel dumb, things that make me sorry. That is just a particularly amusing example.

I think it's probably normal, as you become older and more experienced, to be more honest about your own shortcomings. It makes me less likely to judge others. Sometimes it makes me able to try harder to overcome things that challenge me, things like being patient when someone is sick or injured and my selfish plans are derailed.

But I do still like myself. I can laugh at myself, as we see in the story above. I can see the good in myself. Truly. This is a kind of balance I will probably never achieve in my physical body.

So, no more leaping.

Confidence

I was combing my daughter's hair tonight before bed.

"Do you ever wish you were me?" she asked. "So you could do really good hairstyles?"

She'd styled her own shiny, straight brown hair today: asymmetrical pigtails on the sides with the back hanging loose, just past her shoulders. She's excited that it's finally getting long after her self-inflicted pixie in October 2010. She's way into hair. She does darned good work for a five-year-old.

I had to laugh at her question. She was unfazed.

"What if I were your mom?" she followed up.

"Then," I said, "I guess I would have really great hair, all the time."

She nodded, satisfied.

I admire her confidence. I wish I felt so sure of something. I'd take just about anything.

But humility is a virtue, right? Life seems to be cultivating that one in me.

Dream delights

Last night I dreamed that my family and I moved into a new home. It had a funny layout and lots of quirks, like dryer hose snaking all over the ceiling in a room adjacent to the living area, but I discovered a greenhouse where the previous owner had started dozens and dozens of seedlings, chard and strawberries and squash and more, and they were all thriving. I was so excited they were now mine, so thrilled to see something green and growing and promising a delicious future.

I wish this were real - except for the moving part. I am so excited to garden this summer. I am ready to see green. I would also love it if this offered some deeper meaning about unexpected blessings and opportunities.

At breakfast this morning, 7-year-old K told me he dreamed he visited Martin Luther King, Jr., at his home. It turned out MLK was a bodybuilder with all kinds of great equipment. "I used it and I got buff!" my sweet, scrawny little guy exclaimed.

This is the kid who colors his leprechauns with brown skin every year at St. Patrick's Day. He loves who he is. He is a proud little black man! May he be strong like Dr. King!

Brag

I'm responding here to FMH founder Lisa's great response to the Samantha Brick brouhaha. Gotta love the Internet.

Lisa suggests that more women need to own and speak and write about their positive attributes and accomplishments. It's hard. It wasn't always hard for me. I used to be a lot more confident than I am now. When I started this blog it wasn't as hard. Then life got more real. More kids and more problems and fewer professional accomplishments piling up.

Because life is real and imperfect I feel less comfortable speaking about positives. I feel like there are too many threads to tug, too many ways to deconstruct anything I may have to brag about. And that is difficult to open myself up to.

So here is my fray-check: I don't pretend I'm perfect.

And the fray-check on the other side of the fabric: I truly don't think that any gifts or accomplishments make me any better than anyone else.

There. Now nobody can unravel the good things I am about to say.

• I flipped off the world and married the person I loved most when I was only nineteen, and a lot of people thought it was a dumb thing to do. Now we have spent as many years together as I lived before I married him, so, to quote a jazz standard, who's got the last laugh now?
• I got a good education (three years of college as a married student) and got creative about how to apply it, and I've had a good career so far writing and editing for science and higher education.
• I faced down infertility and won, not because I ever became pregnant (I didn't) but because I came out stronger.
• I was brave enough to open my heart to four children who needed a family, two from the foster care system. This still requires my courage and strength every day.
• I helped open a new university in Merced, California, in 2005. I did my part and it was crazy and hard and tremendously fulfilling.
• I am a good partner in my marriage. I am supportive of the things my husband wants to do and I think I pull my weight in every way I can.
• I stand up for my kids. My kids are members of racial and ethnic minorities and have some challenges. I am on their side.
• I learned how to speak effectively on television at the drop of a hat, and I put that skill to work in a crisis situation at my job.
• Speaking of speaking, I can put together a pretty rad church talk or lesson, and I like doing it. This is something where I feel it's appropriate to give credit to the Holy Ghost, though.
• I have 10,000 words of a novel, or maybe a series. You start somewhere.
• I can sing. I love to do it. I can express feelings through song. I can sing jazz, pop, folk, classical. People enjoy it.
• I can cook. I was well taught and I have been willing to explore on my own. Ain't nobody starving at my house.
• I work out pretty regularly and I like my body OK. I have fabulously strong legs. And one benefit of infertility is slightly less sagging than I might otherwise be experiencing. So, that's nice.
• I have good taste in fashion and home decor and an individual style that I don't see in other people's wardrobes or houses.
• I am a good crocheter, largely self-taught. It's good medicine for when I'm feeling crotchety.
• I recycle and buy local and drive an older minivan that gets good gas mileage.
• I make nice holidays for my family, without getting crazy.
• I can accept people the way they are. This is something that took me a long time to learn and still takes some effort to accomplish sometimes. But I know what it means and I know how to do it. 
• I know how to tune in to spiritual things. I have found what works for me. I know it's not going to happen for me all the time, and I accept that, but I stay open to it. I sincerely wish this for everyone.
• I know what it means to be really sorry. To know I was wrong and need to truly express regret for my words or actions. To humble myself. This is the weirdest thing ever to brag about. But it was hard-won for me. A big step. And I think I deserve a little bit of credit for it.
• I don't mind being different from others, politically or philosophically or religiously. I am learning that I don't need to be afraid to speak my mind. It never turns out to be as scary as I thought.
• I have learned how to prioritize what I choose to believe and obey. I don't follow blindly. I don't choose to burden myself with a lot of guilt. I know I need to do my best and de-stress the rest. I've blogged about this a little bit before. It's another biggie for me.

Now is when I force myself to end the blog post without qualifying or taking the wind out of any of the above. I just let the brags stand.

Wavy

My hair and I are having a moment. It's a good moment. That hasn't happened for a while.

You might remember that I can always think of something I'd rather do than fuss with my hair. Blow dryers are hot. Curling makes my arms tired. Professional styling services are expensive. My hair naturally bends in funny directions. I am going gray. I'm uncoordinated and generally don't care that much.

Good news, though. I have found a friend who does a lovely job on color. Right now we have a light-to-medium chestnut brown thing going on with some coppery highlights. Next month we go for bolder blond ombre highlights, which will be fun for summer, and low-maintenance which is very important for me. My friend does a nice job keeping my now-long layers in line and cutting long, sideswept bangs so at least I have something going on that points your attention away from my enormous cheeks. Bonus, I can bring Z along to her house to play with her kids while I get prettied up.

The length - now a good few inches below my shoulders - means my hair goes wavy instead of bending weird and flipping funny. That's good. Wavy is the Thing now, you know. So I have good color, a good cut, and the Thing.


I let my hair air dry without combing it. Then smooth on a little of this stuff - Sally Hershberger Wreck & Roll Texturizing Cream. Just a dot, maybe the size of a Cheerio or smaller. I rub it all over my hands and then just run my hands over my hair. It smells like roses, calms frizz and makes waves that look like I've spent the day at the beach. Good stuff.


If the waves need more help curling up - you know, if it's a dry day or whatever, which is almost always in Montana, I use a wave enhancing spray and then scrunch. Sometimes even with a blow dryer on low heat. KMS makes a nice spray, linked above. A cheaper alternative, still good, is this wave-enhancing spray from Garnier Fructis. I also have some Aussie Sprunch Spray for stubborn spots in my hair, but beware, it will take you right back to the days of spiral perms and the bangs style known as The Claw. Yes indeed, crunchy hair. Use sparingly, right.


For days when I do actually feel like doing my hair, I was lucky recently to get an InStyler as a gift from my friend Victoria. It's stinkin' cool. Sometimes I use it on my whole head for a really polished look (all right, that's almost never - when do I need to be polished these days?) but more often I just use it to straighten my bangs and make them go the way I want, to imitate an Emma Stone look with sleek bangs and waves in the rest of my hair. I love it that that's a really current look with absolutely minimal effort.

So, yay for me and my hair moment. It's all in the waves.

Anticipate

I have been a little in the dumps, no lie. The end of winter is tough around here. Spring is a tease. But eventually it can't resist and then it's like fun comes back into the world.

I'm going to follow Ms. Marta's lead and do a purposeful, positive post. Marta wrote about things she's looking forward to. Here are mine.

• Staying home all weekend this weekend, making yummy food, spreading out the Legos on the floor, coloring, chilling, listening.
• Visiting my family in Utah for Easter. I haven't seen them since October. That's a long time. I miss them. I will be meeting my new nephew, who so far seems to have the largest eyes of any human ever before seen. Super cute.
• My birthday, sort of? Turning 38 next month. I don't know, I'm pretty ambivalent about pushing 40. But I do like birthdays and parties, so, what the heck.
• Getting my oldest son's school situation sorted out. I think they finally get it. Tomorrow we start some stuff that I asked for a year ago when I signed him up to go back to public school. Here we go.
• Gardening. We are not going on any really long trips this summer, so I am determined to make it good!
• Summer vacation to Utah, then off to Montreal for a few days with just Dr. G and me (thanks to my gracious parents) and then back to Utah for massive family reunioning. I'll be seeing people I haven't seen in years and I am so excited and happy about that.
• Possibly getting up to Glacier National Park for a few days in August. We've been in Montana all this time and haven't gone up there yet. That's disgraceful, and we have to fix it!
• My little chica starting kindergarten this fall. Life is about to change.

Witness

My witness is that this is not OK.

http://affirmation.org/news_2012/2012_026.shtml

I've been perilously near losing someone dear to me in an all-too-similar story. It's not all right that we make our young people feel this way. I believe we need to do better.

Men are that they might have joy. Gay men (and women) too. God wants you to live and be happy. Grab a tissue before you click "play" on this video.



If you would like to learn more, I really recommend Carol Lynn Pearson's book No More Goodbyes as a starting point.

If you would like to start talking to your kids about what it means to be gay and protecting them against the forces - internal and external - that take down a lot of young, gay Mormons, you could maybe start here. (It's been a few years since I wrote that FHE plan and some of my thoughts have changed but I still think it's a good beginning framework for most Mormon families.)

If you need a safe person to talk to about being gay or a member of your family being gay (or lesbian or transgendered or fill-in-the-blank) I would like to be that person for you if I can. Or for someone you know. Especially if you're Mormon and trying to navigate all of that. I am not a professional or really an expert but I am quite sure I can listen and love and not judge, and I think that sometimes that's what some people need the most. I have given this a lot of thought and I feel like it is what I can do right now to start to heal some wounds I've caused in the past.

Thanks to my friend Veronica for the song, and Reese Dixon for the news link. Thanks to my new friend Lorian for helping me see the importance of my witness. And thanks to my brothers for surviving, being brave and strong, and helping me learn.

Telling

In the Bad Bad Dark Dark Winter of Sickness and Depression, which is my name for December 2001 - March 2002, my toddler got kicked out of the daycare at the gym for hitting. It was my only respite from mothering a difficult toddler and a perpetually sick infant (he had ear issues) and I thought I might die. We went to a child psychiatrist. He watched us interact. I did a lot of crying. One outburst I particularly remember bawling out was, "I can't even read a book for half an hour!" I was 27. Having a hard time accepting that my life was sort of not mine anymore.

After a few sessions he told me he thought my toddler was basically normal (HA! Shows what he knew) and that I was depressed (well, he got that right; I think it was SAD because March rolled around and I suddenly, magically felt better). Then he said something to me that I've never forgotten:

"Does anyone at your church know you're in this kind of pain?"

The answer was, of course, no. For church we put on our perfect clothes and our perfect hair and makeup and our perfect smiles. When we have problems, and we all do, we do not tell. This is the code.

I still do not take all my issues to church. For one thing, I am more aware than ever before that everybody has their own issues. Many people have a lot more than I do to deal with. I am not really well equipped to offer a lot to others right now, and I am not expecting a lot of help. After all, everything I've got, I signed up for. Literally. That's something fun only adoptive parents can say.

But I do not pretend to be perfect anymore.

I have a special needs kid whose issues are almost invisible and really, really hard to define and treat. I am doing everything I feel like I can do to help, and it's never enough. It's never going to be fixed. It affects everything. Absolutely everything. I feel the loss of the normal family life I looked forward to in my younger years. I mourn for that a lot. I struggle with the fact, and it is a fact, that if I had been able to gestate and give birth to this child, the issues would probably not be there. Or maybe his issues would just be different. They would almost certainly be less. I try really hard to accept it, and some days I do all right. Other days I am frustrated and embarrassed and angry and I feel like giving up. Some days I think if I could exchange this child I might do it. It is hard, really hard. I am hurting from it today.

And today I am telling. At least this one little thing. So if someone wants to know what kind of pain I am in, they can know. It's a rough one, today.

The trendy meme

I waited for days to see a version of this thing about being a freelance writer. I didn't see one. So I made one. It's really kind of about being a freelance writer who is also an at-home parent. Wahoo, fun!

Chieko on Christ

Chieko Okazaki was a leader in the Relief Society, which is the women's organization of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She died in 2011. These are her words on Jesus Christ:

 "We know that Jesus experienced the totality of mortal existence in Gethsemane. Its our faith that he experienced everything - absolutely everything. Sometimes we dont think through the implications of that belief. We talk in great generalities about the sins of all humankind, about the suffering of the entire human family. But we dont experience pain in generalities. We experience it individually. That means he knows what it felt like when your mother died of cancer- how it was for your mother, how it still is for you. He knows what it felt like to lose the student body election. He knows that moment when the brakes locked and the car started to skid. He experienced the slave ship sailing from Ghana toward Virginia. He experienced the gas chambers at Dachau. He experienced Napalm in Vietnam. He knows about drug addiction and alcoholism. 

"Let me go further. There is nothing you have experienced that he does not also know and recognize. On a profound level, he understands the hunger to hold your baby that sustains you through pregnancy. He understands both the physical pain of giving birth and the immense joy. He knows about PMS and cramps and menopause. He understands about rape and infertility and abortion. His last recorded words to his disciples were, 'And, lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.' (Matthew 28:20) He understands your mother-pain when your five-year-old leaves for kindergarten, when a bully picks on your fifth-grader, when your daughter calls to say that the new baby has Down syndrome. He knows your mother-rage when a trusted babysitter sexually abuses your two-year-old, when someone gives your thirteen-year-old drugs, when someone seduces your seventeen-year-old. He knows the pain you live with when you come home to a quiet, empty apartment, where the only children are visitors, when you hear that your former husband and his new wife were sealed in the temple last week, when your fiftieth wedding anniversary rolls around and your husband has been dead for two years. He knows all that. He's been there. He's been lower than all that. 

"He's not waiting for us to be perfect. Perfect people dont need a Savior. He came to save his people in their imperfections. He is the Lord of the living, and the living make mistakes. He's not embarrassed by us, angry at us, or shocked. He wants us in our brokenness, in our unhappiness, in our guilt and our grief." 

  

- Chieko Okazaki

Montana love, January edition

So I did a little  Things I Will Miss post before I left California, and I did a Reasons I Love My New Home post after we'd been here a while. More surprising may be that I am still pretty happy here in the dead of winter.

I love ...

• Sunshine on fresh snow
• Clear air
• Footprints
• Gas fireplaces (all fireplaces actually)
• Wool socks
• BOGS
• Starry sky
• Rosy-cheeked, red-nosed little kids
• Flannel sheets
• Cautious drivers
• Cozy crocheted hats
• White Christmas
• Sledding
• Silvery-looking snowy pines on the mountainsides
• Hot cocoa
• Herbal tea
• Bad-weather camaraderie and community spirit
• 45 degrees and you feel like abandoning your jacket
• The walk and driveway all shoveled 
• The cry of one bird in winter silence

I will alert you now, there will be no post similar to this one in April or May when it is still snowing.

2011 in Review

Lucy answered these questions. I thought it would be a useful exercise for me. I'm not really sad to leave 2011 behind. But this helped me remember some good things and brought to light some things I can really learn from. So that's good.

1.  What did you do in 2011 that you've never done before? 

Was admitted to a hospital. Went to Legoland. 

Took the dog with us on a major vacation. Worked through some major woes in the marriage. Sent my youngest child to preschool and had a couple of hours off in the middle of each day. 

Went camping without my husband, with the kids - twice (crazy).

Mothered a middle-schooler. 

Bought a refrigerator. Planned a ward Christmas party.

2.  Did you keep your New Year's Resolutions and will you make more for next year? 

The only resolution I made was to do my best and let the rest go. I think I did all right, especially considering the stressors that came up this year. I feel significantly less stressed and worried than I did at the end of 2010.

3.  Did anyone close to you give birth? 

Lots of friends and acquaintances had new babies, but no one I would call super close - no sisters, in-laws or besties. For me this is a mercy. We'll just leave that there for now.

4.  Did anyone close to you die?  

No, but I probably went to more funerals than I ever have before, because of my calling in Relief Society. 

And I began to consider that some people I love very dearly may not be with us forever, after all. I tried to spend a little more time with them - not easy because of distance, but I did try. I hope when they go I will not look back with regret. And I hope it's not soon.

5.  What countries did you visit? 

Just my own. Montana, Utah, Idaho, Nevada and California were my entire range for the year. Why mess with the best?

6.  What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011? 

A decent cell phone. I keep putting this off, because the expense is daunting. But my three-year-old pay-as-you-go phone, whose service provider does not exist in Montana, is becoming a significant problem.

7.  What date from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory and why?   

August 21, 2011. My husband turned 40 and my oldest son was ordained a deacon.

8.  What was your biggest personal achievement of the year?  

Coming to the decision that I am no longer doing things because I am told to or because I am supposed to or expected to. I am only doing things that I feel in my heart are right, things that really uplift me and my family. 37 is kind of old to turn the lights on for this. Better late than never. And while it may not change the appearance of my life a lot, it changes my inner landscape completely.

9.  What was your biggest failure?  

Continued inconsistency with the things I know are most important - spiritual practice, kindness to others, physical fitness and dietary discipline.

10.  Did you suffer injury or illness?  

Kidney stone at the end of January; I had surgery to remove it. Quit colas in hopes of avoiding recurrence, and so far, so good. Massive cold and ear infection while in California in July. Ever had a grapefruit in your ear? Me neither, but I thought I did. G had a hernia repaired and was also quite sick while we were away. A had pneumonia.

11.  What was the best thing you bought?  

BOGS boots. Warm, waterproof and cute. I live in a cold place, and warm feet make all the difference.

12.  Whose behavior merited celebration?  
Mine and Dr. G's. Not that we were perfect. We disagreed and agonized and argued and misunderstood and talked and cried more this year than we ever have before. But what I will celebrate is that we are still here, together. We are stronger than we have ever been. We understand our vulnerabilities and our strengths better than before. If we can get through the poo-swamp that was 2011, we can do anything.

13.  Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?    

Too close to home. This mommy gig is no picnic. I am in no way ready for the teenage years.

14.  Where did most of your money go?  

The really most went to our mortgage. After that, probably medical and therapy expenses.

15.  What did you get really, really, really excited about?  

Going to California for a whole month to hang out with Sally and see old friends and go to the beach. 

It turns out it was maybe a little too long, and much, much more expensive than we planned, but still, we're glad we went.

16.  What song will always remind you of 2011?  

"Someone Like You," by Adele, for all the times I listened to it and bawled. Its peak of popularity came at an emotionally inconvenient time for me.

17.   Compared to this time last year, are you:
a) happier or sadder? 
b) thinner or fatter? 
c) richer or poorer?  

a) It's never that simple. Wiser, more peaceful, more realistic. b) Despite my intentions, same. At least my clothes fit. c) Thanks to therapy and surgery, poorer. But not without prospects for improvement.

18.  What do you wish you'd done more of?  

Family fun days and time outside. Creative writing. Gardening.

19.  What do you wish you'd done less of?  

Facebook games. OCD list-making. Staying up too late. Making up crazy stuff in my head. Spending money on things that don't really help. Wishing for a life that I don't have.

20.  Did you fall in love in 2011?  

Maybe with wool socks. Or Pinterest. Not meaning to make light of the question, but really, I have been married for 18 years and have four children. I love all these crazies a lot already. If I fall any further I will be lost. 

Here is one I am really in love with. When my older two were his age I thought they were big and gangly and sort of  losing their little-kid cuteness. Not my K. He is always pinch-the-cheeks cute to me.

21.  What was your favorite TV program? 

Dr. Who. I also discovered a show where Elvis Costello interviews musicians and other celebrities about music, and it's pretty much brilliant.

22.  Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?  

Thankfully free from hate. There is a neighborhood bully who I kind of wish would move away or something, but he's left off bothering my children and I don't feel like I hate him. Poor kid.

23.  What was the best book you read?  

Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson. On the Blue Comet by Rosemary Wells (out loud to the kids).

24.  What was your greatest musical discovery?  

I think I'm too old for discoveries. I like my tried and true favorites. Except, like everyone else in any English-speaking country, I became obsessed with Adele.

25.  What did you want and get?  

The refrigerator. The month in California. The quilt from my mother-in-law (fabulous!) 

A flat-screen TV (wonderful surprise from my parents). Steady writing and editing work. Some nifty vintage stuff for my living room, especially the fabulous turquoise-and-gold lamp with the inverted drum shade. Totally '50s and in pristine condition. Thanks, Dr. G!

26.  What did you want and not get? 

Perfect health. I know, it's a lot to ask, and I should be grateful for what we have. But I'm a little weary of all our minor complaints. And now that I have said that I feel like a jerk. While I am at it, I also want my kitchen remodeled. Magically, and for free.

27.  What was your favorite film of this year?   

Hm. Crazy Stupid Love was a really fun girls' night out. Harry Potter 7.2 was pretty satisfying. But The Muppets takes the cake. (Also, I don't really feel like I see films. I just go to the movies like most other Americans.)

28.  What did you do on your birthday and how old were you?  

Cared for a kid with pneumonia while my husband traveled out of town. I turned 37. It was pretty much a  stinker of a birthday. But G made it up to me when he came home with an amazing dinner out at the place that has become my absolute favorite restaurant in town, the Uptown Cafe. I had scallops. Love me some scallops.

29. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? 

I'm thinking maybe a punching bag. 

30. How would you describe your personal fashion concept for 2011? 

Trying a Little Harder Than I Sometimes Have in the Past. Often With Scarves and Boots.

31. What kept you sane? 

Kept? Sane? Two faulty presumptions there already. Really, probably the support of a few key friends. Also, chocolate, and alternating doses of Vitamin Water and SoBe Lifewater (the kinds with caffeine in them, because I had to quit colas, as I mentioned above). And the occasional triumphant feeling of posting something really clever on Facebook.

Twenty Christmases together

• 1992: Arrived home from BYU late on Christmas night. Met at the airport by my family and the recently returned missionary I hadn't seen since August 1990.
• 1993: Married to that returned missionary, spent Christmas in Logan with my grandparents and other extended family. New husband promptly contracted chicken pox from my two little polka-dotted cousins.
• 1994: Our first Christmas tree. I made ornaments out of salt dough and paper. My parents had moved to Salt Lake and we spent time with them in the condo where they were staying until they found the home they now live in.
• 1995: We lived in Wymount Terrace. G gave me two zebra finches, whom we named Kirk (the chubby one) and Picard (the thin, cerebral one).
• 1996: We visited Fairbanks for Christmas. I mainly remember his parents' dog as a hyperactive young thing, massive quantities of chocolate, and long, snowy walks and drives in the dark of Alaskan winter.
• 1997: Arizona with G's family for Christmas. I got a beautiful brown velvet formal dress (still in my closet) and G's grandma said to me, "Where on earth are you going to wear that?" 
• 1998: We spent Christmas in Colorado with more Shaws and experienced Pearl Street in Boulder as well as the Infamous Chinese Restaurant Centripetal Force Incident. (Think lazy susan.) I took care of a couple of adorable little nephews and some lights in my head turned on regarding adoption.
• 1999: We lived in Minnesota with our four-month-old son, who loved the lights on the tree and would coo at them excitedly. We realized the guy G was working with in pursuit of a Ph.D. was an A-1 jerk and packed up and headed back to Utah.
• 2000: First Christmas in our little pink house, a condo in Salt Lake City. After Christmas, we spent a few nights in a cabin in Escalante with my family, then visited G's extended family in Arizona.
• 2001: We received a Christmas basket from our ward, which kind of perplexed us. I think it might have been because someone asked me about the costs of our two adoptions, I told them the honest answer, and they were flabbergasted, probably wondering how we could even afford to eat after spending that kind of money.
• 2002: G's grandpa passed away in Arizona on Christmas Eve. We made a really insane trip down there for the funeral with two very small boys.
• 2003: First Christmas in California, where G was again pursuing a Ph.D. We spent that whole December raking up yellow leaves from two huge mulberry trees and feeling a little homesick for snow country. G was struggling as the only sort-of grad student at UC Merced, which was so new he couldn't even be enrolled yet . Friends generously paid me $50 to sing at a Christmas party for their employees. We were pretty much desperately poor and needed every drop we could get.
• 2004: I made UC Merced gingerbread men and excitedly gave gifts to my new co-workers. And had that embarrassing incident wishing my Jewish colleague a Merry Christmas. I also had daycare woes. G finally had some other grad students to keep him company.
• 2005: S came up with some excellent Yuletide Funnies. I made a failure of pumpkin fudge, thereafter known as pumpkin sludge.
• 2006: We got an artificial tree for the first time ever. Canceled an Arizona trip because we had a four-week old foster daughter who needed a court order to travel out of state. She played Baby Jesus in the family Nativity play. Joy.
• 2007: We got a Wii and respiratory flu. The furnace broke and made us glad, momentarily, to be renters. We got the news that the county was going to try to take Z to an illegal extended-family placement after more than a year in our family. We were delighted by the recent verbal explosion of K, age 3, who had joined us in June of that year.
• 2008: We still had four children, and after months in court we had a lot fewer worries. I enjoyed being back home with my kids after four years working for UC Merced. G and I started working on applying for jobs for him as a Ph.D. Z really enjoyed a cinnamon roll.
• 2009: After the stress and chaos of our move to Montana, I almost didn't find my Christmas mojo in time for the big day. But we strung some lights and unpacked the decorations and rejoiced in being in our own home with a new job and four children all officially ours.
• 2010: A beautiful and sacred Christmas at home. We'd had some tough things happen in the fall, but the upside of that is that our hearts were humble and open. I coordinated a donation for the homeless shelter from the church. G completed his first semester as a professor.
• 2011: I planned a ward Christmas party, posted a Christmas song a day on Facebook, changed our gift focus from toys to family activities (snowshoes!), and made sugar cookies with my daughter for the first time. 

It's been twenty years since I spent a Christmas without the delightful, surprising, smart, hardworking, wonderful guy I love, the man I now call Dr. G. I hope I never have to. We have been up and down the roller coaster, for sure, but this Christmas I would say we are better than ever. We have a wild little family. We have stuff to work on. But we can do it. Bring on 2012.

Candlelit

And one flash-lit. Have a wonderful holiday.

Why you might hear me say "Happy Holidays"

I am all about the Christ in Christmas. Nativity scenes, stories, songs, the family Nativity play, the church service. I believe Christ is the son of God and in his love for us chose to visit our world by experiencing life as we live it, starting as an infant in the most humble circumstances. Conceived before his mother's marriage,  carried in what we must assume was some shame, born in a stable and laid in a bed of straw. Then visited by rich and poor alike, recognized however momentarily as the promised Messiah, heralded by angels and a star in the sky. This is Christmas to me, and it moves me beyond description.

If I already know you have feelings about Christmas similar to mine, I will sure as shooting tell you, "Merry Christmas." Absolutely.

Otherwise, I find "Happy Holidays" to be a beautiful wish to give a friend, and I'll say that to you, instead. Here's why.

When I first started working in my university job seven years ago, I was so excited for Christmas. Well, that's not different from any other year. Anyway, as I left the office before we closed for the holiday, I bid a friend and co-worker farewell with my traditional "Merry Christmas" greeting. Gently she put her hand on my arm, and with a smile, said, "I'm Jewish."

Now, I know the bare bones of Jewish history and I'm also pretty well aware that in the culture I live in, even being a non-mainstream Christian puts me in a position of privilege. And although I never meant to exclude or insult anyone by sharing my Christmas cheer, I did give a greeting that emphasized difference rather than similarity, a vision that was not considerate and probably not appropriate for the workplace, at least with a colleague I did not yet know well. I felt like a jerk.

I don't really like feeling like a jerk. It's not fun. So sometimes now I don't use the holiday season as a chance to tell people I'm a Christian. While I am far from ashamed of my faith, sometimes that's not the way to build friendships and show respect for others.

So, Happy Holidays to you all. I hope they shine, and I hope they offer you closeness with friends old and new, friends who share your faith and friends who differ. I think Jesus would approve.

Making Christmas

After the ward party, I kind of feel like I've already done Christmas and want to lie around in my pajamas and play Scrabble-clone games on the computer. It's not going to work.

There are three sick kids in the house. The Christmas cold is a severely under-reported holiday tradition. We eat sugar, we stay up late, we mingle with people, we get sick. It makes perfect sense, actually.

Although my shopping is done, I still have a package to send and lots of wrapping and baking to do. Those are fun jobs, and when I find my energy I'm sure I'll accomplish them, no problem.

I seem to have misplaced a large stack of addressed, stamped Christmas cards. Dear friends, you might get your card a little late this year. I suspect they might be at the church where I was frantically covering cakes with whipped cream on Friday afternoon.

We have three different Christmas programs to attend this week - one at the preschool, one at the elementary school, and one for the Young Musicians' Club where A plays guitar. Fa la la!

Do you ever wonder what would happen to holidays if the mom didn't do the work? Sometimes I do. Not complaining. Just trying to find my motivation.

Ward party plans

Through a convoluted series of events, I ended up planning the ward Christmas party that took place last night. Twice. Thankfully I had to execute only one of these plans, the second one and with lots and lots of help. The first one was vetoed by people who, I think, weren't too sure the food would be satisfying. Whatever, I am not going to get all offended by that. I still think it was an awesome plan, so I'm going to post both here fore the benefit of others who may be looking for ideas. I found a dearth of simple, doable ideas when I was searching online, and you know, I always like to share my outstanding ideas.

Ward Christmas Party Plan 1: All On a Christmas Morning

Decor: stock Christmas items (garland, poinsettias) from closet; plastic tablecloths; red and green balloons in a row lengthwise down the center of each rectangular table. Each balloon has candy inside and is tied to a wooden skewer to avoid having to use helium. Skewers are anchored in long boards from quilt frames or other drilled boards placed under the plastic-sheeting tablecloths.

Food: Breakfast for dinner - cinnamon rolls made by YW; breakfast casseroles made by RS; fruit salad; juice and milk; hot cocoa bar with marshmallows and candy canes

Activities: Devotional from bishop, followed by food. After eating, children get to pop the balloons and keep the candy. Ward members may choose to come in pajamas and participate in a PJ fashion show. Prizes awarded for best adult, best teen, best child, and best family PJs. Carol singing with pre-designated leader and pianist. Visit from Santa Claus in foyer with photographer on hand.

Ward Christmas Party Plan 2: Together at Christmas

Decor: stock Christmas items (garland, poinsettias) from closet; plastic tablecloths; artificial tree; runner for serving table only. One poinsettia on each dining table.

Food: Prime rib with jus and horseradish cream sauce (cooked by culinary wizard ward member); garlic mashed potatoes and raspberry-pretzel jello salad (prepared by RS members from distributed recipes); green beans cooked from frozen in church kitchen. Candy-cane cakes prepared by RS presidency (purchased angel food cakes covered with whipped cream and crushed candy canes).

Activities: Devotional from bishop, followed by dinner. After eating, slide show of ward activities from the year just passed, with Christmas music. Then, decorating graham-cracker gingerbread houses pre-assembled (this could be done by the Primary, but in our case was done by the RS presidency). We made 25 graham cracker houses to be decorated by about 125 people. Families and friends worked in teams. As this winds down, start carol singing with pre-designated leader and pianist. Focus on kids' favorite Christmas songs - often the secular ones they learn in school, because this is about fun! Visit from Santa Claus in foyer with photographer on hand.

Christmas lit for kids

Because I am a little bit of an information and media junkie all year 'round, I guess it's no surprise that at Christmas some of the things I love most are the music and books and movies and TV specials and ... what else could we fit in there?

I've done posts in the past about Christmas music. And while I am not one to pull it out the day after Halloween (unless I'm in a really sad mood and need a pick-me-up that badly) I listen to Christmas solid from Thanksgiving through New Year's Day. That's not changing.

But I've never written about this other Christmas thing that is absolutely vital for me: kids' books. I have a growing stack of kids' Christmas books. They come out with the decorations and litter the living room for the entire season. The kids really read them, I think because it feels so special to have some different books for just a few weeks out of the year. And it's always special to snuggle up by a lighted tree or a cozy fire to read a story together.

Here are a few favorites. I make no claim that it's a comprehensive list, or anything.

The Nativity by Francesca Crespi is a beautiful pop-up book. I don't normally buy pop-ups, because you can imagine what happens to them in a household like mine. Destroyed! But this one survives, probably because it's only out for a limited time. And it's worth having; it's just lovely. The illustrations are reminiscent of eastern European religious icons, with gold accents and simple, strategic moving parts, and the story of Christ's birth is sweetly told.

Welcome Comfort by Patricia Polacco is a guaranteed heart-warmer. A child who is bullied at school becomes friends with the school janitor, and gains insights into Christmas spirit that are absolutely unparalleled. Anything by Polacco is worth adding to your library, but this is one of my absolute favorites.

Christmas Day in the Morning by Pearl S. Buck can't be beat! The writing shines, and the illustrations by Mark Buehner in this edition draw you in and make you almost feel you've lived the story. It helps, I guess, that the nighttime mountains you see all covered with snow look a little like southwest Montana to me. Oh, and I cry in this story. Without fail. It's a good cry, real, not button-pushing. Beautiful.

Snowmen at Christmas by Caralyn Buehner (more illustrations by Mark Buehner) is pure fun, a peek at how your snowman celebrates when you're not looking. And if you don't already have it, you had probably better add Snowmen at Night to your list, as well.

A Child's Christmas in Wales by Dylan Thomas. All right, confession. I don't have this book in my hot little hands yet. I just ordered it. But it's way down deep in my soul. This book was the one my dad made us sit through every Christmas Eve before we opened our one present (my family's tradition). I grew up before I realized that it was poetry, not torture. But now it's so full of memories, and I can't wait to bring this edition home this Christmas. I try to add a book a year, and this seems like the perfect choice.

The Polar Express. Come on, do I even need to say anything?

The Nutcracker, as illustrated by the incomparable Maurice Sendak. I cannot imagine a better illustrator to riff on the disturbing fantasia that is this traditional holiday favorite. I've never been a big Nutcracker fan, but I am a huge Sendak fan. And, OK, it's more for me than for the kids.

Mortimer's Christmas Manger by Karma Wilson tells a sweet story about a mouse who learns to make room for the Savior in the little stable he stole from the nativity scene belonging to the family in whose house he lives. Mice are gross, but when they're cartoonish and cute I don't mind them. My kids really enjoy this one.

The Little Match Girl, by Hans Christian Anderson, illustrated by Rachel Isadora. Oh, so sad. Sometimes you need a good cry at Christmas time, don't you? And my kids have been fascinated with it this year. It's given us a good opening to talk about poverty and helping others - so important.

A New Star in Heaven by Val Chadwick Bagley. This is a wonderful hands-on nativity book with a definite Mormon twist. I recommend reading it to one child at a time. If you have a kid on each side, they may be liable to fight over who gets to lift the flaps. Really, I love the way the story is told, and most importantly, the kids love to get involved with the book the way they do in this one.

What are your favorite reads at Christmas time? I'd love to hear!