Kodak movements

Cameras are the bomb. They capture so much and I completely agree that a picture is sometimes worth 1000 words. However, there are also rapturous things that cameras cannot capture. Or in deference to Spookalot, my camera and I cannot capture them. Remember in Hitch when Will Smith says that 90% of communication is body language or movement? Do you also remember when dude was showing Will how he could dance? The Q-tip. The Q-tip. That was hysterical but I digress. This week’s emotion was evoked by some very poignant motion.
The dog will be 7 weeks next Tuesday. He is definitely feeling more comfortable at our house and out in the yard. Today he actually walked to the edge of his fenced world without looking back to see if I was following right behind him. He loves the rose garden. He joyfully leaps in between the bushes. Like a rabbit. Like a deer. All four paws leaving the earth at the same time and coming down in a sideways motion. Those little hops convey a sense of such complete singleminded bliss. He has no other thoughts except to be. He is reveling in the power that he has over his muscles and his body. He is immersed in the new smells and sights that the world has to offer him. Sigh.
Ryan will be 13 this August. She is definitely entering into the teen phase of her life. I know the hormones are raging and I worry about her more often than not. I recognize the confusion, restlessness and teen angst in her eyes at times. But not at soccer games. Last Saturday we had an indoor soccer game. She is starting forward. Red shorts. Blue shirt. Ponytails. I watch from the sidelines and I see my little girl run toward the ball. Her strides are sure and long. Her body is beautiful. I can’t describe the air of health and growth that surrounds her as she powers up to meet the ball. Her shorts softly mold and encase her brown legs that become a blur in my camera and I can’t capture the moment. And then the kick. Her foot knows how to connect to the ball and she makes a goal. Her eyes are sparkling. Her hand comes up in an arc and slaps Kelsey’s proffered hand in a high five. A connection that says everything. Synergy at it’s best.
Finally, Cooper. Always Cooper. Cooper jumping on the tramp. Cooper catching a football thrown by his Grandpa. Cooper trying to wink and not just blink. Cooper running his fingers through his hair, his method of calming down. Cooper laughing at a joke.
So, in all in all, this week was pretty damn good.

Date Night

Friday night Bart and I went to Jiffy Lube to get the oil in our vehicles changed. We had no kids with us and no puppies. We sat in the waiting room and just talked about nothing. In comes these two nice looking young men. Around 22. Talking about tanning and a road trip. The four of us were the only ones in the waiting room.
Bart and I were talking about motorcycles and stocks for the most part. We were laughing. It was an easy conversation and we were having fun. I could tell the guys were listening to us talk. Bart had to go out and pay for the vehicles and the dark haired guy started in.
“How long have you been married?”
“13 years.”
“That long?.....So you married really young?”

O.K. now that could be the end of the story. I was instantly in love with the two of them.

However, it goes on. I was proud to say, “I married when I was 24.” A two digit number, excellent. A two digit number that starts with a 2, commendable in Utah. A two digit number that starts with a two and does not end in a prime number, almost impossible at BYU. I, then, added “And that was too young for me.”
The blonde guy says “Well, I am 22 and have no girlfriend.” But the dark haired guy was looking for more. “Too young? Why? Is being married hard?”
“Sure. I mean, it is good too but I would say our first 7 years were the worst.”
“Why? How? Financially? Emotionally?” He pushes further. I could tell they were really wanting to know. I had to think about this. What would I have listened to when I was 22?
“Well, I think that mostly it was the idea that marriage is supposed to be this complete togetherness thing and it isn’t. You still will want and need to maintain your own identity and sometimes that is painful to one or both of you. Also having kids is hard. It was hard for me to stay home with them even though that was totally what I wanted to do.”
“Was it hard financially?”
“Sure, we were poor.”
“Well, isn’t everyone?” And my first thought about that was well, we’re not now but I didn’t say that. I told the truth.
“We were poor but we bought a house and sucked it up. We sold that house and moved into a bigger one. Bart wasn’t doing too well then and we ended up selling that house, paying off our debts, moving into a rental for a year until we got it together and bought another house.”
“Seven years, huh?”
“Well, it was for me. But I am also very hard to live with so maybe it would be different for others.”
They laughed like they were supposed to and told me about their parents and their marriages. That they thought their mom and dad were now happier now that the kids were all out of the house. That it was the blonde guy’s birthday that weekend and they were doing the crazy thing of driving to California for the two days. I hope they drove carefully.
I left feeling like I had just had a review of the last decade of my life and I had passed. I realized that I was proud of the life that Bart and I have created through loving, fighting, laughing, crying, discussing, ignoring and cherishing. I felt close to tears as I held in my hands a tangible feeling of warmth and gratification revolving around me and my family. Pretty good for a cheap Friday night date to Jiffy Lube.

Happy Birthday dear Abe!

4 fun facts:

In warm weather, 6th president of the United States, John Quincy Adams customarily went skinny dipping in the Potomac River before dawn.
Have you seen the swimming suits back then? They were more of a joke than showing off your birthday suit anyday!

Abraham Lincoln carried letters, bills and notes around in the tall, black stovepipe hat we so often see him in.
Don't you just love him?!?

William Taft, 27th president of the United States, weighed more than 300 pounds and had a special oversized tub installed in the White House.
Talk about a bubble bath!

Calvin Coolidge, 30th president of the United States, had chronic stomach pain and required 10 to 11 hours of sleep AND an afternoon nap every day.
I think I feel a stomach ache coming on.

Introducing Brinkley

How many times I have washed blankets with pee: 72
How many times I have been woken up to take him outside: 19
How many times I have had to stop Chase and Cooper from roughhousing with him too hard: 1465
How many times we have renamed him: 299
How many times I have had to bring him to work with me: 3
How many times I have had to clean his poop off the office floor: 1
How many times I have slept with him in my bed with his kennel right next to the bed: 4……out of the 4 nights that he has lived with us
How many times I have shivered in fear of the next year of chewing: 194
How many times I have kissed and loved him: 9254
How much I already love him: infinity and infinity.

The Office

Do you remember that one episode from The Office? The episode where the senior vice president walks into the main office in Denver and announces a consolidation of 3 offices in the United States? Denver is one of them. The VP then proceeds to let everyone know that the General Manager and the entire accounting staff had been let go. There was no prior knowledge. He flew in on the private jet, dropped the bomb and waited while they turned off their computers and left the office. The Denver side of the mountain will be merged with Minneapolis and the other side of the Rocky Mountains will be merged with Phoenix. There were no other operational changes or layoffs at this time, the VP says as he lets everyone off the conference call. Do you remember that episode? You don’t. That’s funny because I remember it like IT HAPPENED YESTURDAY.

Happy Valentine's Day!

w.w.w. and w. (for sp00kalot)

I feel like something is supposed to happen in the big picture of my life. So here I am waiting. Watching. Wondering. And whining. But then I get mad at myself because maybe I am not supposed to be waiting. Watching. Wondering. And whining. Maybe I am supposed to make something happen. Maybe I am supposed to quit my job without knowing where the insurance will come from, without the security of my paycheck, without the security of having somewhere to go every day. Maybe I am supposed to drive up to Idaho and buy $100 worth of lottery tickets. Maybe I am supposed to start writing a book. Maybe we are supposed to put our house up for sale and move to Richfield. Maybe I am just supposed to learn patience and gratitude and be happy where I am at. Maybe a leap of faith is required of me. My belief in fate and kharma and my belief in being self sufficient and doing all you can do directly oppose each other. Last night I almost had an imploding panic attack trying to read all my feelings to see if there was something I should be doing. I waited. I watched. I wondered. I listened. But nothing EXCEPT a feeling that something was supposed to happen. I finally decided that until I knew what this something was supposed to look like, there was nothing I could do but wait, wonder......and watch American Idol tonight.

I am a genius!

www.intelligence-test.net/part1/

But I can't for the life of me, figure out 12, 28, 29 or 31. Please for the love of pete, help me!

The Monica Geller Confession

You may not remember it by name but you will remember it. You must. Hasn’t everyone seen every single Friend’s episode at least 20 gazillion times now that it is on TNT or Life or something? For those of you that forgot the name, it is: The One with the Chicken Pox Episode #47. That doesn’t give it away. The main plot of the episode was Charlie Sheen coming home from military leave to spend it with Phoebe and then the both of them getting chicken pox. However, it is the subplot that caught my attention. Monica is hot and heavy with Richard (Tom Selluck) at this point and she is very upset that Richard does not have a “thing.” He eventually comes up with something that satisfies her. I think it is that he has to sleep on the east side of the bed. I don’t remember.
The other night I was getting into bed and I was struck with the magnitude and the multiplicity of my “things.” I become Monica Geller before I get into bed. I become worse than Monica Geller. There is a definite routine that must be followed or else I can not relax, let alone sleep. In fact, I was not getting into bed when I had this epiphany. I realized how freaky I was when I actually was in bed and because one of the steps had been overlooked I knew I could not sleep and had to get up and rectify things. Here is my list:

Tissue box is wedged between my bed and the nightstand and must be checked to make sure there are tissues in it.
New water glass must be filled with water and ice--old water glass must be in the kitchen. There cannot be two waterglasses on my nightstand.
Bedroom window must be open a crack, blinds must be shut turned up, not down.
Sheets must be tucked in at the bottom of the bed and blankets spread the right way across the bed.
My blue body pillow must be in reaching range.
Socks must be on my feet, regardless of anything else.

I am not sure that any of my “things” are the real freaky part of this nighttime ritual, it is the absolute necessity that I have for all this to be done before I get into bed and relax. Now that I have written this down, I wish that I had something more heartwarming like saying prayer or kissing my deceased Grandpa’s picture or the Walton’s goodnight shoutout on my list but it would be untrue. Maybe I can try to work it into the routine. I’ll let you know.

"Life is too short not to enjoy it,"

He said as he walked out of bedroom yesterday morning. And that is all I can think about since then. Bart and I were talking about me quitting my job. The only reason that I do not do just that today is…….well, did I say the only reason? Let me make a list.

• I carry the health insurance for the family, however, a lot of companies out there will provide that to me and my family.
• I have 8 years of seniority and 6 weeks of paid time off this year. I will lose this.
• Bart has a spending problem and I enable us to easily maintain a 401K account and also I make enough supplemental money that budgeting can be one of the littlest, teeniest items on my priority list.
• I do realize that one of the perks of my job is VERY FLEXIBLE hours. Yes, I may have to work in the middle of the night but I also drive my child to school at 9 am and then take Cooper up to Grandma every day. This is not an 8 to 5 job. Sometimes it is a 10 to 3 job.
• I am scared shitless of change.
• I am scared shitless of making a decision.
• Finally, and don’t let me sound too bitter when I say this, I don’t have much faith in my own feelings when making this kind of decision having some sort of a depression/anxiety problem. So, when I say I hate going to work, I wonder--and I remember wondering this same thing at the last job I had—I wonder am I unhappy because of this job or is this misery internal.

So, I am approaching this rationally.

• Yesterday I made a list of all the things I would like to see done (with my money) before I give it up. That made me think this might take place next year instead of next month. And I haven’t even let Bart add his two cents to it yet.
• I also talked to HR and found out that COBRA insurance is $1100 a month for my family. Wow! Truly, I don’t think that I can remain a SAHM (in September my baby goes to kindergarten so it would be a childless SAHM) without some sort of a job and so I might as well find something that offers insurance but I definitely had in mind a 4 or 5 month sabbatical before I put my nose to the grindstone again.
• Finally, I got an appointment and went to the doctor and renewed the magic pill subscription. I needed this anyways but I could feel the anxiety setting up camp at my doorstep as I even considered making this big of a change in my life. And it was an 8 man tent that he pitched.
  
  So, truly if nothing else comes of this, hurray! for me for getting to the doctor.
  

Wicked

I was able to listen to the whole 71 minutes of the soundtrack for “Wicked” today and it did my soul good. Very good. I am still so amazed at the emotion that this soundtrack evokes. I love the storyline but I adore the music. I worship the words and how they explain the relationships in the story. I am so excited to go see it in New York. Let me say that again. I am so excited to go see it in New York. Yes, the tickets have been bought – both the airline tickets and the tickets for Wicked. We are going March 31 and staying until April 5th. My friend and her two children are going as well and lucky us! her father actually lives right outside of Manhattan and so we will be staying with him. We will be going to see the Statue of Liberty and have tickets already to go up to the Observation Deck around her head. Doing the tourist thing, we will also be visiting the Empire State Building, The Twin Towers Memorial, The National Museum of Art and the Guggenheim. We will be shopping in Little Italy and around Times Square. We will be going to a Medieval Dinner in Jersey and going to Wicked……so far. We were considering a quick trip to Boston but it doesn’t seem we can fit it all in and the two real interesting things I wanted to see in Boston were miles away from the actual city. Truly, I am not a history buff because I cannot remember dates but I am fascinated by the colonization of this country and the Revolutionary War. I wanted to go to the Salem Witch Museum and the Plymouth Plantation where they live, act, show how people used to live back then. Sigh. I need a trip to go to Williamsburg and Gettysburg. Put that right behind my trip to Italy, Thailand and Mexico.

Back to New York: My only concern is that one time seeing Wicked will not be enough. I may have to make my kids (and maybe my friends too) stand in the standing room only line just to see it again.