We were treated to an interesting mish-mash of Christmas tunes mixed with other songs of Sir O this morning. He never ceases to amaze and entertain me. And he's forcing me to come to terms with his grown-up-ness. He wanted to "help" us today, and he was not going to be dissuaded by toys or television. He emptied the contents of every Christmas box and spread them all across the floor (rather to our consternation, but we're learning). He remained attentive until the job was done, and I'll go out on a limb and say he was good company.
The Captain on the other hand..... keeping the Christmas tree remotely adorned and upright may just be the end of me.
Still, it's been a good day to be me.
Friday, November 27, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
The places my mind takes me sometimes
Do you ever spend time contemplating your past and being blown away by the breadth of it all? I have such a wealth of memories - good, bad, and ugly - that I sometimes get overwhelmed. I cannot imagine how I will handle it all when I am old and gray. A decent proportion of my memories make me cringe with shame - but I hope that is true for most of us (and not just me).
Let's just say that the advent of facebook contributes to this phenomenon.
This is a photo from finals week at the end of my freshman year of college. BJ, Chantelle, Christina, Sam, and I were studying for our TMA 185 final. I was comfortable in a pasty version of myself with the freshman 15 packed on (until I saw the photos taken of me this week, then I promptly started tanning and joined a gym - true story). I had become really great friends with these people (and several others) and my friendship was based entirely in the present with absolutely no expectations of the future - other than that we'd hopefully remain in touch. I didn't expect we'd all become successful filmmakers, or even work in the industry, but I didn't assume we wouldn't either. It was sort of a magical expectation-less place. (I expect my childhood full of unexpectable circumstances contributed to that state of mind.)
Yet it still blows my mind what befell us all.
Sam had a lung collapse a matter of months after this photo was taken, was diagnosed with lymphoma, and less than a year later he passed away. I was studying abroad when he died, and I think I got genuinely depressed for a spell. I recall listening to a rendition of the Lord's Prayer by the choir of St Paul's Cathedral on repeat for weeks on end.
Of those living, I am certainly the least engaged in film-making. Christina went on to serve an LDS Mission, and since graduating she has worked for the church in their media production department. She's currently taking her baby to work with her, putting her husband through school. She's the most inherently maternal person I've ever met, and she adopts people into her care like stray puppies off the street. Other than my mother, she's the person I'm most likely to call when my mind starts dripping deep thoughts.
Chantelle devoted almost 6 years of her life to this documentary project. She met her European husband while working on a project in Thailand ( As I remember it?) She had her first baby shortly after Christina. She is still one of the most delightful people I've ever met, and the 6 weeks I lived with her while we interned in Orlando were some of the most spiritual of my life.
And BJ, I knew the least about. He left college to serve a mission shortly after this photo was taken. I didn't really see him again until right before I graduated, when I heard that he was engaged. I congratulated him with all my most genuine enthusiasm, and we had a short conversation in a hallway. He told me he was terribly concerned about the financial realities of being married and wasn't sure how ends were going to meet. I shared some wisdom that had been given me when I'd had similar concerns. (Tithing - and blessings).
And honestly, other than becoming facebook friends, I didn't give a great deal of thought to him. I knew him to be prudent and capable, and assumed he would succeed at whatever he set his mind to.
So, yeah. Facebook.
BJ made some facebook comment that referred to his wife's blog, and for I'm not sure what reason, I linked to it. And I spent a significant portion of my afternoon reading it. What I had not realized when I'd had that conversation with him, was that his then-fiance had a chronic illness that they both knew they'd be dealing with indefinitely. It's a huge part of their life. Because she is "uninsurable" he's had to significantly alter his educational and career plans in order to keep her insured.
But he's done it. And I'm immensely proud of him for it.
No really, immensely.
And so, after reading and feeling all those things, I pulled this photo out and spent a spell being nostalgic.
And I have come to the conclusion that God has excellent taste when it comes to planting people in my life. I do so hope He keeps at it.
Let's just say that the advent of facebook contributes to this phenomenon.
This is a photo from finals week at the end of my freshman year of college. BJ, Chantelle, Christina, Sam, and I were studying for our TMA 185 final. I was comfortable in a pasty version of myself with the freshman 15 packed on (until I saw the photos taken of me this week, then I promptly started tanning and joined a gym - true story). I had become really great friends with these people (and several others) and my friendship was based entirely in the present with absolutely no expectations of the future - other than that we'd hopefully remain in touch. I didn't expect we'd all become successful filmmakers, or even work in the industry, but I didn't assume we wouldn't either. It was sort of a magical expectation-less place. (I expect my childhood full of unexpectable circumstances contributed to that state of mind.)
Yet it still blows my mind what befell us all.
Sam had a lung collapse a matter of months after this photo was taken, was diagnosed with lymphoma, and less than a year later he passed away. I was studying abroad when he died, and I think I got genuinely depressed for a spell. I recall listening to a rendition of the Lord's Prayer by the choir of St Paul's Cathedral on repeat for weeks on end.
Of those living, I am certainly the least engaged in film-making. Christina went on to serve an LDS Mission, and since graduating she has worked for the church in their media production department. She's currently taking her baby to work with her, putting her husband through school. She's the most inherently maternal person I've ever met, and she adopts people into her care like stray puppies off the street. Other than my mother, she's the person I'm most likely to call when my mind starts dripping deep thoughts.
Chantelle devoted almost 6 years of her life to this documentary project. She met her European husband while working on a project in Thailand ( As I remember it?) She had her first baby shortly after Christina. She is still one of the most delightful people I've ever met, and the 6 weeks I lived with her while we interned in Orlando were some of the most spiritual of my life.
And BJ, I knew the least about. He left college to serve a mission shortly after this photo was taken. I didn't really see him again until right before I graduated, when I heard that he was engaged. I congratulated him with all my most genuine enthusiasm, and we had a short conversation in a hallway. He told me he was terribly concerned about the financial realities of being married and wasn't sure how ends were going to meet. I shared some wisdom that had been given me when I'd had similar concerns. (Tithing - and blessings).
And honestly, other than becoming facebook friends, I didn't give a great deal of thought to him. I knew him to be prudent and capable, and assumed he would succeed at whatever he set his mind to.
So, yeah. Facebook.
BJ made some facebook comment that referred to his wife's blog, and for I'm not sure what reason, I linked to it. And I spent a significant portion of my afternoon reading it. What I had not realized when I'd had that conversation with him, was that his then-fiance had a chronic illness that they both knew they'd be dealing with indefinitely. It's a huge part of their life. Because she is "uninsurable" he's had to significantly alter his educational and career plans in order to keep her insured.
But he's done it. And I'm immensely proud of him for it.
No really, immensely.
And so, after reading and feeling all those things, I pulled this photo out and spent a spell being nostalgic.
And I have come to the conclusion that God has excellent taste when it comes to planting people in my life. I do so hope He keeps at it.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Sharpies
Sir O broke into his dad's sharpie collection today.
And I didn't even get mad.
He drew a picture.
This is my child who has never been willing to color.
(He just asks Mr Renn and I to draw things for him, refuses to do it himself.)
I have scads of child-friendly art supplies, and he never touches them.
He's made it very clear.
He hates coloring.
And he drew a picture.
(with sharpies)
Not bad for his very first one, eh?
ETA: The finished piece. I'm totally framing it.
And I didn't even get mad.
He drew a picture.
This is my child who has never been willing to color.
(He just asks Mr Renn and I to draw things for him, refuses to do it himself.)
I have scads of child-friendly art supplies, and he never touches them.
He's made it very clear.
He hates coloring.
And he drew a picture.
(with sharpies)
Not bad for his very first one, eh?
ETA: The finished piece. I'm totally framing it.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Practice
While house-sitting in a REAL HOUSE this last weekend I seized upon the opportunity to practice some floral arranging. In a REAL HOUSE there are enough horizontal surfaces that several arrangements can have a home. So I looked for bunches of single-type flowers that should be longer-lasting (an in-season), and challenged myself to see how many arrangements I could make with them. Admittedly I cheated by the end though. I raided the yard and the fridge (see the asparagus?). But it was fun and so good for me to practice without the time limits and constraints of an assignment I'm dealing with when I'm in class.
Is this not the coolest container you've ever seen? I was going for a fancy hat effect. The only color large mum I could find were the green, probably not what I would have picked but they should last a while.
Lots of cheating with this one. The apple and asparagus are from the kitchen, and the back of it is covered with greens from their yard. (Which I screened carefully for bugs).
A fun piece for the mantle. Yup, still loving ornamental kale - you?
Is this not the coolest container you've ever seen? I was going for a fancy hat effect. The only color large mum I could find were the green, probably not what I would have picked but they should last a while.
Lots of cheating with this one. The apple and asparagus are from the kitchen, and the back of it is covered with greens from their yard. (Which I screened carefully for bugs).
A fun piece for the mantle. Yup, still loving ornamental kale - you?
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Dear Grandparents....
It's true.... I cannot keep up the photo/video pace that I started with my first child.
BUT
The Captain is still cute, he's quick on his knees, and you never saw a child who was quicker to laugh.
It was male-bonding-city/trainscape-building-night at our house. I really do need a girl to keep me company and keep me grounded.
BUT
The Captain is still cute, he's quick on his knees, and you never saw a child who was quicker to laugh.
It was male-bonding-city/trainscape-building-night at our house. I really do need a girl to keep me company and keep me grounded.
Monday, November 09, 2009
Clearly
I ought to write deep and introspective posts more often, the feedback I get is incredible, enlightening, and motivating.
Mr Renn begins living out of a suitcase and traveling for residency interviews soon. It is going to be an interesting time for me. A time of pulling myself up by the bootstraps around 5pm each day. We have become quite dependent on one another over the years, and are knee-deep in our daily routines, so even his overnight scout camp-outs throw us for a loop.
Though I will contend that it's always harder to be the one left behind. In that spirit I sympathize with my little sister, who often laments the sad spot of being the youngest child.
BUT, just think - the match is in January. Soon we will know (hopefully!) where we are headed after graduation and I will have permission to start planning ahead. I love few things as much as the illusion of control that planning ahead gives me.
I'm all about illusions sometimes, especially those involving control.
7 months to an existence where laundry wars are only between me and the quantity of dirty clothes; not involving my neighbors, pathetic public machines, or dwindling supplies of quarters.
7 months until we can stop yelling at our kids to have quiet feet, for fear of having downstairs neighbors pound on their ceiling at us.
7 months until I can stop feeling violated by the smell of cigarette smoke in my non-smoking home.
4 months until I will have survived my last Philly February! Oh how I loathe them!
I am daring to hope for outdoor spaces, more than 4 windows, and a bedroom that does not also function as a craft room/office/storage unit.
Just building castles in the clouds and ignoring reality, you know me.
Mr Renn begins living out of a suitcase and traveling for residency interviews soon. It is going to be an interesting time for me. A time of pulling myself up by the bootstraps around 5pm each day. We have become quite dependent on one another over the years, and are knee-deep in our daily routines, so even his overnight scout camp-outs throw us for a loop.
Though I will contend that it's always harder to be the one left behind. In that spirit I sympathize with my little sister, who often laments the sad spot of being the youngest child.
BUT, just think - the match is in January. Soon we will know (hopefully!) where we are headed after graduation and I will have permission to start planning ahead. I love few things as much as the illusion of control that planning ahead gives me.
I'm all about illusions sometimes, especially those involving control.
7 months to an existence where laundry wars are only between me and the quantity of dirty clothes; not involving my neighbors, pathetic public machines, or dwindling supplies of quarters.
7 months until we can stop yelling at our kids to have quiet feet, for fear of having downstairs neighbors pound on their ceiling at us.
7 months until I can stop feeling violated by the smell of cigarette smoke in my non-smoking home.
4 months until I will have survived my last Philly February! Oh how I loathe them!
I am daring to hope for outdoor spaces, more than 4 windows, and a bedroom that does not also function as a craft room/office/storage unit.
Just building castles in the clouds and ignoring reality, you know me.
Thursday, November 05, 2009
toothy grin
Dear Captain -
Your new smile - complete with 5 fledgling teeth and the occasional underbite - melts me into a puddle of mom.
Use it wisely.
Love, Mom
Your new smile - complete with 5 fledgling teeth and the occasional underbite - melts me into a puddle of mom.
Use it wisely.
Love, Mom
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
identity crisis'
My brain is churning too fast for sleep. I dragged my body out of bed and awakened the beast that is my computer in order to pound the keys until my thoughts have escaped my head.
I remember getting my patriarchal blessing shortly before I left home for college. My mind was all a whirl with thoughts of majors and programs and classes and school. And then my blessing came out and told me that the strength of my talents would lie in homemaking. Homemaking. I was the girl who'd always looked down my nose at the FHA. (And look, they've changed their name because of snobs like me.) They were powerful words at the time, and I couldn't have anticipated how true I would (do!) need them to be.
My problem is that the talents I spent most of my energy developing during my youth were the talents of being a student. The talents of regurgitating in just the manner a teacher required, the talent of testing well, the talent of overcommiting myself, the talent of appearing awake when in reality I was dead-asleep through a lecture. Unfortunately, these are not proving to be particularly useful life skills in the long run.
Lifelong learning aside, I am no longer a student. This part of my personae that I allowed to be maybe too important in the construction of my identity has left a gaping hole that I've never quite successfully patched over.
I had no idea I was doing anything wrong as I constructed this problem for myself. I grew up in the era of feminist entitlement, so everybody from every direction encouraged me to excel academically and to have career goals. I was one of those girls who would never have answered "a mom" when asked what I wanted to be when I grew up. In retrospect, I'm not certain that this is because I didn't want to be a mom most of all, but I think that feminism tainted me awfully young with it's insidious message that homemaking and mothering are not enough. (Remember this struggle?)
And now I find myself dealing everyday with the holes. I know in my head, and even in my heart that there is nothing else I could be doing that is more valuable than being with my kids, teaching them and guiding them through life. Yet I find myself constantly pulled into discontent and distracted by desires to be doing more glamorous things with more instant gratification. And the more I let that sway my thinking, the more discontent I am.
It's a vicious cycle to heap on top of my already sad state of sleep deprivation.
I'd like to take this moment to mention that yet again Seeing the Everyday and the Ensign arrived exactly when most needed.
I can sense on every level that I need a massive paradigm shift. I need to take all the energy I'm spending pining over design projects, crafts, floral ideas, and exorbitant desserts and devote it to my personal scripture study, personal prayer, and interactions with my kids.
Written like that is sounds simple and doable, right? Well for some reason real-life is proving more complicated. I've been fighting an uphill battle with myself trying to make this paradigm shift happen, or at least start, for weeks. It appears that my mild, seemingly benign desires, tendencies and preferences are snowballing into an issue - a barrier between me and spiritual progression.
This is an instance of the natural man sneaking in unannounced, and to me it is evidence of how wily (and real) the devil is. He knows I feel strongly about doing what I'm doing, so rather than try to convince me I should be somewhere else, he's just been wedging in my worldly preferences, with the angle of creating discontent. Sometimes I'd really like to sock him and tell him to leave me alone.
So, I'm slowly figuring it all out. I'm slowly learning how to change my priorities so that the strength of my talents really will lie in being a homemaker and a mother in Zion. I'm trying to not miss my kids growing up before my eyes because I'm too busy pining over pretty pictures and clever crafts.
Does this seem contradictory? Aren't beautification and craftiness a part of homemaking?
Well, therein lies the rub. It's not a matter of flat-out-banishment. It's a matter of restoring balance.
It's like being addicted to overeating, as opposed to an illicit addiction. You can't just stop eating, cold turkey. You must always eat, you have to relearn how. It's infinitely trickier. (Although both are completely overwhelming).
Have I diverged into enough tangents for you? I never claimed to have a cohesive train of thought, especially while lying in bed, staring at the ceiling fan and kicking myself.
Repeatedly.
But, having spewed all of that I feel a bit better, maybe now sleep can win out over the pacing critical self-analysis.
Possibly even before the Captain wakes up again......
I remember getting my patriarchal blessing shortly before I left home for college. My mind was all a whirl with thoughts of majors and programs and classes and school. And then my blessing came out and told me that the strength of my talents would lie in homemaking. Homemaking. I was the girl who'd always looked down my nose at the FHA. (And look, they've changed their name because of snobs like me.) They were powerful words at the time, and I couldn't have anticipated how true I would (do!) need them to be.
My problem is that the talents I spent most of my energy developing during my youth were the talents of being a student. The talents of regurgitating in just the manner a teacher required, the talent of testing well, the talent of overcommiting myself, the talent of appearing awake when in reality I was dead-asleep through a lecture. Unfortunately, these are not proving to be particularly useful life skills in the long run.
Lifelong learning aside, I am no longer a student. This part of my personae that I allowed to be maybe too important in the construction of my identity has left a gaping hole that I've never quite successfully patched over.
I had no idea I was doing anything wrong as I constructed this problem for myself. I grew up in the era of feminist entitlement, so everybody from every direction encouraged me to excel academically and to have career goals. I was one of those girls who would never have answered "a mom" when asked what I wanted to be when I grew up. In retrospect, I'm not certain that this is because I didn't want to be a mom most of all, but I think that feminism tainted me awfully young with it's insidious message that homemaking and mothering are not enough. (Remember this struggle?)
And now I find myself dealing everyday with the holes. I know in my head, and even in my heart that there is nothing else I could be doing that is more valuable than being with my kids, teaching them and guiding them through life. Yet I find myself constantly pulled into discontent and distracted by desires to be doing more glamorous things with more instant gratification. And the more I let that sway my thinking, the more discontent I am.
It's a vicious cycle to heap on top of my already sad state of sleep deprivation.
I'd like to take this moment to mention that yet again Seeing the Everyday and the Ensign arrived exactly when most needed.
I can sense on every level that I need a massive paradigm shift. I need to take all the energy I'm spending pining over design projects, crafts, floral ideas, and exorbitant desserts and devote it to my personal scripture study, personal prayer, and interactions with my kids.
Written like that is sounds simple and doable, right? Well for some reason real-life is proving more complicated. I've been fighting an uphill battle with myself trying to make this paradigm shift happen, or at least start, for weeks. It appears that my mild, seemingly benign desires, tendencies and preferences are snowballing into an issue - a barrier between me and spiritual progression.
This is an instance of the natural man sneaking in unannounced, and to me it is evidence of how wily (and real) the devil is. He knows I feel strongly about doing what I'm doing, so rather than try to convince me I should be somewhere else, he's just been wedging in my worldly preferences, with the angle of creating discontent. Sometimes I'd really like to sock him and tell him to leave me alone.
So, I'm slowly figuring it all out. I'm slowly learning how to change my priorities so that the strength of my talents really will lie in being a homemaker and a mother in Zion. I'm trying to not miss my kids growing up before my eyes because I'm too busy pining over pretty pictures and clever crafts.
Does this seem contradictory? Aren't beautification and craftiness a part of homemaking?
Well, therein lies the rub. It's not a matter of flat-out-banishment. It's a matter of restoring balance.
It's like being addicted to overeating, as opposed to an illicit addiction. You can't just stop eating, cold turkey. You must always eat, you have to relearn how. It's infinitely trickier. (Although both are completely overwhelming).
Have I diverged into enough tangents for you? I never claimed to have a cohesive train of thought, especially while lying in bed, staring at the ceiling fan and kicking myself.
Repeatedly.
But, having spewed all of that I feel a bit better, maybe now sleep can win out over the pacing critical self-analysis.
Possibly even before the Captain wakes up again......
whimsy
Sir O has lately begun to use his imagination.
(You know, to do things besides make creative messes)
Suddenly I find him in odd corners talking to any toy that has a face.
Or rather, personifying his toys as they talk to each other.
"What'a you doin' here?"
"I'm going to a meeting"
Yeah - kind of sad.
But cute.
Pickle
We have a predicament.
Sir O is fabulously potty-trained, conditionally.
The moment he's clothed - it's all over.
And since I can't take him anywhere without clothes, progress is slow.
So in case you drop by my house - that explains the naked boy.
Sir O is fabulously potty-trained, conditionally.
The moment he's clothed - it's all over.
And since I can't take him anywhere without clothes, progress is slow.
So in case you drop by my house - that explains the naked boy.
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