Life is Sweet

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

The Art of Knowing

Yesterday Shilo had swim team pics. I told her I would go and snap a few of my own, and maybe some individuals of the girls for locker tags.

"They don't do that in swim," was Shi's reply.

Realizing that this was her first high school team experience, I decided that I would take a subtle approach. Feel out the situation. Sit back and observe. Maybe they didn't do that in swim.

The overpriced photographer was snapping quick individual pictures for the printed program. Then he started grouping the girls for the team photos. I looked around at the other parents in attendance. No cameras at the ready. I chatted briefly with the only other mom I was familiar with.

"Do {they} make locker tags for the girls in swim?" I asked.
(They are parents. If a team has locker tags, it is only through supportive parental efforts that they are designed, created, and placed on the lockers of the team.)

"Yes."

"For every meet?"

"Yes."

I stopped the conversation briefly to snap a few of the team pictures. I wasn't concerned that the photographer was going to have a problem with it, I had done this a dozen times with a cheer team.

And I know that a team picture op like this won't come along again until next year.

See that gap in the front row? I wanted to point it out to the photographer, but decided to hold back. I didn't want to embarrass my daughter. One of the girls standing next to Shi made the comment that ONLY the photographer should be taking pictures. Shilo told me later, "She didn't know you were my mom, and I didn't say anything."

So despite my desire to obtain some individual pictures (after all, I told Shilo, the girls came ready for pictures. What teenage girl wants a picture of her taken at a swim meet in a suit, swim cap and goggles?), I was restrained.

The locker tag conversation continued, and I offered my help (and my laminator and Cricut) for the supportive parental efforts.

Later that evening, the team had their timed trials. Since it was not my carpool night, I kissed Shi good-bye and wished her well.

I was anxious for her return to find out how things went. That's when she let us know that many parents attend the timed trials to support their daughters.

Oh. We didn't know. Now we do.

But she was totally okay that we weren't there (since we didn't know, you know?).

She had done well. She had placed 2nd in every race but one (which was super close, and with student timers, placement may not have been as precise as possible). Second only to a girl who swims on a national team and has practiced with Michael Phelps. And she was darn close to catching her in the backstroke.

Next year I will know to be more assertive in picture taking. I will know who to contact in areas of parental support. I will know more team parents. I will know to attend the timed trials. I will know how things are {done}, and how I can help. Until then, I'm practicing the art of asking questions.

Today I am thankful for:

an impending break from work

a compassionate son who totally went the extra mile yesterday

an industrious daughter who consistently works and studies hard

a diligent daughter that attended gymnastics, even with a broken toe, then stayed up late finishing homework

a determined daughter that performed her best, even if her parents weren't there for support

a sentimental daughter that released some of her treasures in an effort to help simplify

a supportive husband that came home from a long day of work, and worked at home

a family that scavenged their own dinner

an unfrozen turkey in my refrigerator

Monday, November 22, 2010

Tender Mercies

"We should not underestimate or overlook the power of the Lord's tender mercies. the simpleness, the sweetness, and the constancy of the tender mercies of the Lord will do much to fortify and protect us in the troubled times in which we do now and will yet live. When words cannot provide the solace we need or express the joy we feel, when it is simply futile to attempt to explain that which is unexplainable, when logic and reason cannot yield adequate understanding about the injustices and inequities of life, when mortal experience and evaluation are insufficient to produce a desired outcome, and when it seems that perhaps we are so totally alone, truly we are blessed by the tender mercies of the Lord and made mighty even unto the power of deliverance."
Elder David A. Bednar

Another whirlwind weekend.

I did get my date night. In between taking Shi to and from her school swim practice. Dora's and Ross. Ahhhhhh, just what I needed.

Taylor had a date night, too. Sushi and Harry Potter. Good times (not be confused with GoodTimes).

Lex "broke up" with her latest beau through text. Not my recommended way of handling things, but I'd rather not have her "going out" with anyone on a steady basis anyway.

Taylor purchased his first car. We stopped by Wells Fargo to get a small loan. We were given an interest rate of 17.9%, since he doesn't have a loan history and is just starting to establish credit. Aghast, we declined the offer and headed to the credit union across the street, passing by a Hobby Lobby on our way. As I carefully slowed to go over the speed bumps in front of the store, a biker chick and her dude, fully decked in biker gear, were getting off of their big black motorcycles. On the back of her flashy be-dazzled leather jacket in the center of a blinged out shield were the words WELLS FARGO ROBBED ME. Comic relief.

The credit union gave a 4.49% rate. Much nicer.

Saturday morning Taylor, Bill and I attended the temple, then went to sign the loan papers, then Bill and Tay attended a baptism, then went to get the car. White shirts and ties the entire time.

On Sunday, Bill and Tay both talked in another ward, then Tay talked in another ward. I attended the earlier talk(s), then rushed home for choir practice with Shilo, back home to get the other girls, and back to church to sing in the choir.

After church, I had a mini mom-meltdown. Let out my frustrations. Lectured my children. Heavy-handedly set up severe punishments for those who do not comply in the future. I cried a little. Taylor provided the comic relief and supportive-child feedback. Bill mediated. Then the girls and I did dishes while Bill and Tay went home teaching, earlier tension alleviated. Patience and long-suffering displayed.

Things I am grateful for today:

everyday tender mercies

a loving husband

kind and forgiving children

4.49% interest rates

telephones

cell phones

comic relief

Friday, November 19, 2010

No Time to Post

I can't believe it's almost Thanksgiving. I'm soooooooo not ready.

My vision consists of:

a clean house,

dishwasher purchased and installed,

rested and happy company,

delicious brined/dried/roasted natural turkey,

at least 6 varieties of homemade pies,

Christmas house lights up,

Christmas gifts purchased (wrapped would be a bonus),

and myself showered, dressed, and relaxed.

My logical mind tells me it will be more like:

a vacuumed house,

dishwasher found, but not yet purchased and installed,

company arriving late Wednesday, hopefully not detained due to freeway closures and snow,

a frozen turkey, defrosting in the laundry room sink because I didn't get it in the fridge soon enough

(or maybe it's just that my refrigerator, even on the warmest setting, still freezes stuff),

2 varieties of pies (probably cream) made with refrigerated pie crust

(if I'm lucky I'll get the requested pumpkin roll made),

some house lights up (if Taylor is willing to spend some of his weekend doing it), but possibly none,

a desire to have the Christmas gifts purchased, and a determination to get it done asap,

and myself hot, sweaty, and hoping that dinner lasts longer than 20 minutes, because then it's clean-up time, and most likely we will be hand-washing the dishes.

First on the list of tasks today: laundry.

Here's what Shilo's hamper looked like this morning (after I had already started sorting and had taken out at least a half dozen items already). That girl packs it in.

Then work (those three little hours are getting me so behind), grocery shopping, and carpooling. My fingers are crossed that there's a date night in there somewhere too.

What I'm truly thankful for today:

a refrigerator

a washer and dryer

a car

running water

warm(er) weather (makes recess so much nicer)

Bill's job

a found vehicle for Tay

credit unions

computers

friends who read my posts

friends who blog too

awesome kids

awesomer husband

Thursday, November 18, 2010

School Lunch

Yesterday Taylor and I met Mauri at her school to share a Thanksgiving meal together. Kind of. Tay declined the lunch, with the idea that he and I would stop "somewhere else" afterwards, on our way to or from checking out a car he had an interest in possibly purchasing. Since I hadn't had breakfast, I hopped in the lunch line with Mauri, and collected my full amount of food (veggies and all) to get every penny's worth out of my $3 meal.

The school I work at was also having a family-invited Thanksgiving meal. As I was saying good-bye to my kindies earlier that day, one mom mentioned that she was headed to McDonald's to purchase food, then she would be back to have lunch with her older son and kindie. "They won't eat the school's lunch," she said. "Now there's a good mom," I thought. (By the way, I am truly thankful that, at Mauri's school, the 4th grade eats last, giving me plenty of time to join her without having to leave work early or find a sub.)

Once we were by the lunchroom at the school, waiting for Mar's class to join us, my friend Rebecca mentioned that she wasn't actually eating lunch. Just visiting.

After being seated, food in front of me, I heard a mom down the table yell across to another mom, "I work at a school... I see the food prepared all the time... I would never eat it!"

Mar pointed out a "hair" in her potatoes. I looked closely. Only a piece of lint.

I commented on how it would be much easier to eat the turkey if we had been given a knife. The wimpy plastic fork just wasn't cutting it. Suddenly a lady passing out knives appeared.

The rest of the story:

Tay ate my roll and half of Mar's, along with my cookie. He never got to stop "somewhere else" because looking at the car took longer than anticipated, and he had to be at work by 3. He was probably wishing he had eaten the school lunch.

Mar didn't eat her potatoes, but did eat the turkey (a first). And the cranberry sauce. And her green beans. And the cookie. And two bites off of the top of her roll.

I ate it all (except for the roll and cookie, which I kindly shared with Tay). I ignored the comments about school lunch, and didn't let that lint in Mar's potatoes or the watery salad throw me off. I was thankful for the sudden appearance of a plastic knife, with which I was able to eat my turkey with dignity.

I was grateful to have my hunger abated, and was, in the end, satisfied.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Not That I Speak in Respect of Want

Last Sunday at church we had several really great talks on gratitude.

I have reflected on my blessings. I have many. So I have decided to include some of the things I feel grateful for in all remaining November posts.

Today I am grateful that my husband has a job. On Monday he went into the office only to be met with the surprise that his company had made the decision to lay off 40 people. Those people were notified, and were gone, baby, gone. Yesterday he came home and let me know that he is required to lay off and/or demote several people he works with. Then he had to hurry home to go to traffic court with Lex. And he's getting sick. But he has a job.
I am truly thankful.

I am thankful for encouraging and forgiving friends. Friends who help carry some of my load by offering to teach a lesson in Relief Society, to host the cheer team dinner, and to carpool my kids around when needed. Friends who don't fret that I haven't called to chat in ages, or don't worry that I haven't returned their serving bowls I've had for over a month. Friends that keep in touch with me, even if I haven't kept in touch with them. Friends that lend a vehicle, and then fix it when it has a problem.
I am truly thankful.

I have deep gratitude for my children. They have been helpful and kind. They have not whined or complained when dinner isn't ready, or when it suddenly becomes a YO-YO night. They have told me my ugly muffins, made in an attempt to do something motherly, tasted good. They have been forgiving of my flailing, and patient with my adjustment from stay-at-home mom to working mom. They have shuffled cars. They have done countless dishes. They have kept up on school work.
I am truly thankful.

Today Taylor and I will be having Thanksgiving lunch with Mauri at school. I couldn't resist looking up the pictures from the past two years of this fun event, only to discover that Mauri wore the same shirt both years. I will help her select another shirt for today.
I'm grateful to have the choice.

2008

2009

From President Thomas S. Monson:
"Regardless of our circumstances, each of us has much for which to be grateful if we will but pause and contemplate our blessings."

And a favorite scripture:
"Not that I speak in respect of want: for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content." Philippians 4:11

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

A Bid

Saturday Lexee had another cheer competition.

I'll give you a very brief explanation of cheer competitions from my understanding, obtained by attending many over the past 5 years.

League and State are scored by deducting penalties. Things like stepping off the mat, touchdowns, incomplete stunts, and falls. You compete in your division (5A, 4A, etc.), and it doesn't matter the number of members on each team. You can have a team of 25 (Colorado's max), competing against a team of 12. It's a little harder to make sense of these competitions, in my humble opinion.

UCA and Nationals are scored more on the team's skill in dance, stunting (# of stunt groups), tumbling, and cheer. It doesn't matter what division you are in (5A can compete against 3A), but you compete according to your team's size: small, medium, large, or super large. To qualify to go to the UCA Nationals, you need to achieve a particular score at the regional UCA competition (place doesn't doesn't really matter - except for bragging rights), and you are given a bid. These competitions are a little easier to understand from a spectator's point of view.

So Lexee's team was hoping for a bid. Which would mean they would plan to go Nationals in Florida in February.

I was torn. Of course I wanted them to perform well. Of course I would like to have Lex get the chance to go to Nationals (Britta went twice). But I (along with a few other parents I chatted with) knew it would mean a longer practice season, and needing to cough up $1200 for the trip.

I decided that I wanted them to get the bid.

(Also secretly thinking that maybe Lex would change her mind about trying out next year if she had a really great experience at Nationals. Which sounds like I enjoy cheerleading more than she does. In my defense, I really don't. But I think hard work, discipline, following direction, active participation, healthy competition, physical exercise, and teamwork can only be of benefit in the long run. And if she still decides not to try out next year, at least she will have had the complete cheer experience.)

The competition was held here... a new venue. It has been held at the Denver Coliseum the past 3 years, but they were hosting the 5A girls volleyball finals. I like the Coliseum MUCH better.

After their performance, another mom came and told me Lexee was throwing up. I went to go find her... not knowing if she had thrown up on the floor? in front of everyone? I searched around for her and asked a few girls if they had seen her. "She was throwing up in a garbage can," one of them responded. After more search futility, I called her cell. She answered. She had gone downstairs to a bathroom. She didn't really throw up, she just couldn't breathe after the performance, and was gagging and choking as she tried to get air.

Oh yeah. She has exercise-induced asthma. We have an inhaler, but neither of us remembered. I was just glad it wasn't a stress-induced-all-over-the-floor-I'm-so-humiliated-nasty-puke scene.

The Convention Center was not the most hospitable... they closed down the food venders about halfway through the competition, and shut off most of the lights immediately following the awards. (Which is why I have this lovely glowing-eyes picture.)

But LHS got a bid. Congratulations, girls!

Monday, November 15, 2010

Flailing

That's my self-descriptive word for the past while. FLAILING. Sounds kind of like failing, but not as harsh.

I am constantly going, giving the best energy I can muster, pushing my mental and physical capacities to the limit, but still not achieving the fabulous end-result I desire. Swinging wildly, struggling uselessly. Flailing.

(I borrowed some of Lexee's photography for depiction, since I don't actually take pictures of myself flailing.)

The good thing about what I believe is, things will get better. I guess that's why I am constantly telling myself things like, "Once I get done with [this, that and the other], everything will settle down, and life will be organized and smooth again." The funny thing I've come to realize (through YEARS of re-occurrences) is that something else always comes up and takes the place of the previous task or event. That's why I don't know why I even think the word "again."

I don't think I've ever achieved my vision of:

cleanliness,

organization,

personal study and growth,

relaxation and entertainment,

dinner-on-the-table-every-night-at-5:30,

all-supportive mother,

best wife in the world,

looking fabulous for my age (which, I am reminded constantly, is ever-increasing).

Yesterday was a day that brought the flailing to the forefront. I was recently called to be the Ward Music Chairperson. I actually thought, when the calling was extended, PERFECT. I've done it before, so it shouldn't be too difficult or time consuming, which is just what I need right now. Then I was bombarded by two well-meaning, extremely musical ladies in my ward (one of which is the Stake Music Chairperson) who planted on me all of their expectations. We need more special musical numbers. We need more people in the choir. We need better hymn selection. We need to assist the priesthood and auxiliary groups with all their musical needs. We need better accompanists. We need more participation in the Stake choirs. On and on and on. All followed by, "We're so glad you were called, you're just the person to get it all done." Ha.
Don't they know I'm flailing?

So I arranged for a special musical number for Sunday, quite by luck. As I was expressing my anxiety about my new calling to my dear friend Julie, she said her daughters had asked to sing in Sacrament meeting, and she would be happy to sing with them. Awesome. She let me know what song they would be singing, and I confirmed the date with her. Perfect.

Saturday, as I was out running important errands with my dear friend Steph (a 30% off friends and family weekend coupon at Old Navy and Gap IS important), I realized that I had not let the sister that prints the program know about the special musical number. I quickly made a call to her home, left a message on her voice mail, then called around for her cell number, just to make sure the message was received. After talking with her, I felt relief that I had not completely forgotten to contact her and get the musical number in the program.

I spent Sunday morning trying to firm up the song I was requested to help the YW learn for Young Women in Excellence. I had listened and pondered all week what would be the best song to use (still feeling pressure from those ultra-musical ladies who BOTH have daughters in YW). After a few calls to the YW leaders in charge, I selected the song, downloaded it on my ipod, and printed the music. I barely made it to our 12:30 Sacrament meeting, moments to spare. As I settled in by Bill (pleasant surprise to have him there in between all his church meetings), I noticed that there was a REST HYMN on the board up front with the hymn #'s. I panicked. I looked at the bulletin. The special musical number was listed. I realized that I had not told the bishopric OR the chorister about the change in program. Oops. I quickly wrote a note, and walked it up to the bishopric during the opening song. FLAILING.

During the 3-hour block at church I was asked to head up the decorations for the ward adult Christmas party (I declined the "heading up" part, but agreed to assist), and teach in Relief Society in a couple of weeks (which I accepted). I wanted to say, "Don't you know I'm flailing?" I also went into YWs (which still felt like home, even nearly 2 years later), introduced the song to the girls, and had them run through it a couple of times. I asked for soloists, and had 3 girls approach me after church, wanting to participate. Awesome.

One of these days, I will have it together. I just know it.