This morning, I got into my car, buckled my seat belt, and pulled out of my driveway headed for school. And then it happened. My car radio began to play something wonderful: Christmas music.
And I loved it.
Really, I did. I know it's still three days before Halloween, and I realize many people like to wait until after Thanksgiving to do anything Christmas (including music), and I fully respect and even understand that perspective.
But today. Today I was tired. Today I was unsettled. Today I was a little grumpy, and nothing else in the universe could have lifted my spirit or calmed my soul like some “Silent Night” and “Jingle Bell Rock.” It transformed my crappy mood into one of joy, one of hope, one of gratitude.
I used to wait until Thanksgiving to listen to Christmas music. I guess I thought it was some sort of unwritten rule. A few years ago, I asked myself why I imposed such a restriction, and I couldn't think of a single reason. Some of the best music ever written is Christmas music, so it seems a shame only to allow oneself four weeks out of the year to appreciate it. Consequently, I've decided once it's November, anything is fair, and I generally break out the holiday music soon after Halloween.
Or even three days earlier, if it happens to play on my car radio on a day when I really, really need it.
Wednesday, October 28, 2015
Sunday, October 25, 2015
Happy Birthweek!
Is a single day sufficient to celebrate something as significant as one's birth? It's quite an accomplishment getting oneself born after all; perhaps it warrants more than just one 24-hour day each year. In April, Shulamith's birthday fell during a very busy week, so we tried to celebrate a bit each day. After about four days of Gerald asking, “What are you doing today?” and us responding “celebrating Shulamith's birthday,” he declared: “Again?! How many days do you two plan to celebrate her birthday?” At that point we decided that a “birthweek” makes much more sense.
Fast forward six months to my “birthweek,” and here we are right in the midst of the partying. On my birthday eve, Isaiah came over, and the two of us went to dinner. He was exhausted from the craziness at his work, and throughout dinner his phone never stopped ringing with co-workers needing his help; still, it was lovely to be with him. It's the busiest season at Lanyon, and he's been traveling almost all the time.
The day of my actual birthday, we went to Leatherby's, where I ate a hot fudge raspberry brownie sundae. Yep, it's every bit as incredible as you are imagining, so go ahead and be jealous. While we were there, Eli called to wish me happy birthday. As always, it was delightful to talk to him.
Throughout the day, various people stopped by delivering cards and even some goodies. Thanks especially to Amy for the yummy Rice Krispies treats and to Katie for a cool new cup for my Diet Coke! As I gathered all the cards on the kitchen counter that night, Seth made an insightful observation: “Wow, on my birthday, I get one card from Grandma and one from Grandma Vi. That's it. You should feel blessed to have so many friends.” I often complain about my inability to figure out a social life here in Utah, but Seth is right; I am blessed to have friends who were so kind to me on my birthday.
That evening, I texted back and forth with a friend from Mt. Vernon. We have an unusual relationship. We are good friends, yet we connect only once a year, always on my birthday, October 20th. We have done this every year since I left Mt. Vernon in 2004. She texts me "Happy Birthday," and we text back and forth for about two hours. We send pictures and catch up on all the details of each other's life: our kids, our jobs (she is also a college writing instructor), our travels, our everything. Then we say how we should really do this more than once a year. And then we never do. Still, it was so good to "talk" to her.
The next day I had to teach, but I came home to freshly baked cream cheese pie, courtesy of Shulamith. The following evening we celebrated with a few women from our ward, a girls' night out eating yummy Thai cuisine. Friday we used a gift card I received from my mom and took Seth out to Longhorn Steak House.
But all that was only warm-up. Saturday was the real deal. Saturday, Shulamith and I left everyone at home, including children, and went to see the movie The Martian and then to dinner at Cheesecake Factory. Movie was great, and food was so yum. Truly, a glorious afternoon!
Today will be our family dinner and celebration at home, a perfect way to end the week.
It has involved a great deal of food, way more than I normally eat, and I'll have to return with added diligence to my diet plan tomorrow. But it's worth it. Birthdays are kind of important, I've decided.
Fast forward six months to my “birthweek,” and here we are right in the midst of the partying. On my birthday eve, Isaiah came over, and the two of us went to dinner. He was exhausted from the craziness at his work, and throughout dinner his phone never stopped ringing with co-workers needing his help; still, it was lovely to be with him. It's the busiest season at Lanyon, and he's been traveling almost all the time.
The day of my actual birthday, we went to Leatherby's, where I ate a hot fudge raspberry brownie sundae. Yep, it's every bit as incredible as you are imagining, so go ahead and be jealous. While we were there, Eli called to wish me happy birthday. As always, it was delightful to talk to him.
Throughout the day, various people stopped by delivering cards and even some goodies. Thanks especially to Amy for the yummy Rice Krispies treats and to Katie for a cool new cup for my Diet Coke! As I gathered all the cards on the kitchen counter that night, Seth made an insightful observation: “Wow, on my birthday, I get one card from Grandma and one from Grandma Vi. That's it. You should feel blessed to have so many friends.” I often complain about my inability to figure out a social life here in Utah, but Seth is right; I am blessed to have friends who were so kind to me on my birthday.
That evening, I texted back and forth with a friend from Mt. Vernon. We have an unusual relationship. We are good friends, yet we connect only once a year, always on my birthday, October 20th. We have done this every year since I left Mt. Vernon in 2004. She texts me "Happy Birthday," and we text back and forth for about two hours. We send pictures and catch up on all the details of each other's life: our kids, our jobs (she is also a college writing instructor), our travels, our everything. Then we say how we should really do this more than once a year. And then we never do. Still, it was so good to "talk" to her.
The next day I had to teach, but I came home to freshly baked cream cheese pie, courtesy of Shulamith. The following evening we celebrated with a few women from our ward, a girls' night out eating yummy Thai cuisine. Friday we used a gift card I received from my mom and took Seth out to Longhorn Steak House.
But all that was only warm-up. Saturday was the real deal. Saturday, Shulamith and I left everyone at home, including children, and went to see the movie The Martian and then to dinner at Cheesecake Factory. Movie was great, and food was so yum. Truly, a glorious afternoon!
Today will be our family dinner and celebration at home, a perfect way to end the week.
It has involved a great deal of food, way more than I normally eat, and I'll have to return with added diligence to my diet plan tomorrow. But it's worth it. Birthdays are kind of important, I've decided.
Friday, October 16, 2015
A gullible gal from way down south
When I was 10, I was in a school play. I don't remember its name, but I played a gullible, Southern girl, who sang, “I'm a gullible gal from way down south; what pops in my head pops out of my mouth.” Honestly, that is all I remember about the whole thing, though I can still sing the song, tune and all.
All these years later, I don't consider myself to be very gullible. I'm reasonably intelligent. I can distinguish fantasy from reality. I am well aware that when something seems too good to be true, it almost always is. I “get” life. I'm an adult.
But perhaps in some ways, I'm still that gullible gal from my school play in fifth grade.
Earlier today, Isaiah was due to land at the airport at 1:04. He travels all over the place for his job, and today he was coming on a direct flight from Paris after spending a week in Barcelona. I was still in class when he was scheduled to land, and Gerald was already headed to work, so I texted Isaiah and told him to wait at the airport, probably about an hour, until I was out of class and could come get him.
Soon after he landed, I received this text, “I found a ride home, so you don't need to come.”
“With a co-worker?” I asked.
“No, I just met a guy at the airport, and he offered to take me home in his van.”
What? My anxiety-filled mommy mind goes straight to murder. Yep, I'm thinking body parts piled up in that van, and my baby trapped inside, never to be seen again!
“No, Isaiah, noooo, do NOT get into that van!” I text (while I'm trying to teach college students the difference between ethos, pathos, and logos in rhetorical analysis).
No reply. Ugh. Later I text, “Are you still okay and ALIVE? Didn't I ever teach you not to get into cars with strangers?”
Finally, as I'm leaving my school, he writes back, “Man, you are so hard to joke around with because you're so gullible. Of course I didn't go with a stranger. A co-worked offered me a ride home.”
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
Shulamith thinks the entire story is hilarious. Really? Well, I just hope one day her Swen pulls the same stunt, so she can see just how hilarious it is.
All these years later, I don't consider myself to be very gullible. I'm reasonably intelligent. I can distinguish fantasy from reality. I am well aware that when something seems too good to be true, it almost always is. I “get” life. I'm an adult.
But perhaps in some ways, I'm still that gullible gal from my school play in fifth grade.
Earlier today, Isaiah was due to land at the airport at 1:04. He travels all over the place for his job, and today he was coming on a direct flight from Paris after spending a week in Barcelona. I was still in class when he was scheduled to land, and Gerald was already headed to work, so I texted Isaiah and told him to wait at the airport, probably about an hour, until I was out of class and could come get him.
Soon after he landed, I received this text, “I found a ride home, so you don't need to come.”
“With a co-worker?” I asked.
“No, I just met a guy at the airport, and he offered to take me home in his van.”
What? My anxiety-filled mommy mind goes straight to murder. Yep, I'm thinking body parts piled up in that van, and my baby trapped inside, never to be seen again!
“No, Isaiah, noooo, do NOT get into that van!” I text (while I'm trying to teach college students the difference between ethos, pathos, and logos in rhetorical analysis).
No reply. Ugh. Later I text, “Are you still okay and ALIVE? Didn't I ever teach you not to get into cars with strangers?”
Finally, as I'm leaving my school, he writes back, “Man, you are so hard to joke around with because you're so gullible. Of course I didn't go with a stranger. A co-worked offered me a ride home.”
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
Shulamith thinks the entire story is hilarious. Really? Well, I just hope one day her Swen pulls the same stunt, so she can see just how hilarious it is.
Friday, October 9, 2015
Feelin' "the feels" today
I'm sitting here at my computer crying. Did something bad happen? No. Something especially good? No, not that either. It's just a regular day, in which I did regular things. Then I came home, sat down to relax, opened my computer, and saw this.
And now I'm a puddle. Over an advertisement. For gum.
I have no excuses. I'm not pregnant. I'm not in the middle of some huge life crisis. I'm not especially sad or happy or anything. It's just a regular day, for heaven's sake.
But these two adorable high school kids meet and fall in love. It's so innocent and wholesome and dear. They date. They go to prom. They Skype each other when one is away at college. The seasons change. The love grows. Throughout all this, they give each other sticks of gum. Then, near the end of the commercial, the girl finds on the wall, in a row, a series of framed gum wrappers (nope, I'm not kidding), on which the guy has drawn stick pictures of all these experiences they've shared. The last one is new, though, a picture of a guy down on one knee holding out a tiny box. She turns around, and there he is in real life doing the same thing.
Alright, admittedly, I am a romantic at heart, but I'm not generally quite this squishy. I am legit crying right here!
I guess it's just a day to feel.
And now I'm a puddle. Over an advertisement. For gum.
I have no excuses. I'm not pregnant. I'm not in the middle of some huge life crisis. I'm not especially sad or happy or anything. It's just a regular day, for heaven's sake.
But these two adorable high school kids meet and fall in love. It's so innocent and wholesome and dear. They date. They go to prom. They Skype each other when one is away at college. The seasons change. The love grows. Throughout all this, they give each other sticks of gum. Then, near the end of the commercial, the girl finds on the wall, in a row, a series of framed gum wrappers (nope, I'm not kidding), on which the guy has drawn stick pictures of all these experiences they've shared. The last one is new, though, a picture of a guy down on one knee holding out a tiny box. She turns around, and there he is in real life doing the same thing.
Alright, admittedly, I am a romantic at heart, but I'm not generally quite this squishy. I am legit crying right here!
I guess it's just a day to feel.
Monday, October 5, 2015
Conference Reflections
Another General Conference is now part of history. I know I say it every time, but this one was especially..... Sweet? Touching? Heartfelt? I struggle to find the right adjective. Talk after talk brought forth pure emotion, truth, and testimony; a whole day later, I find myself still actively engaged in the messages, invested in an attempt to internalize them and make them part of me.
May I share just a few personal reflections.
Elder Jeffrey R. Holland taught of the divine calling of motherhood. Nothing, he explained, more closely compares to the love our Heavenly Parents have for us than the love of a mother for her children. Indeed. I have so often felt that motherhood was my true destiny, and though I'm hardly perfect in the role, it brings me more joy than anything else I've ever done. A mother's love for her children transcends mortal understanding.
Along with Elder Holland, newly-sustained Apostle Elder Dale G. Renlund testified of that same love. He explained that the only way to love our neighbors is to see them as God sees them, through His eyes. It is through the eyes of parents, both earthly and heavenly, that we come to understand the worth of our fellow beings.
President Dieter F. Uchtdorf reminded us that as we simplify our discipleship and focus on the basics, the Gospel will work in our lives. It works! As always, after listening to him, I felt uplifted, encouraged, and strengthened. His message of hope was reinforced by Sister Neill F. Marriott, as she declared with confidence, even through unimaginable tragedy, that “It will all work out.” These words reminded me of something President Hinckley used to say: “Everything will work out in the end. If it hasn't worked out yet, that's because it isn't the end.”
Both Sister Marriott and Elder Larry R. Lawrence stressed the need to ask specifically what is standing in the way of our progression: “Father, is there more?” and “What lack I yet?” When we ask sincerely, our answers will come.
As Elder David A. Bednar, one by one, expressed his love and gratitude for the six apostles who have passed away since he's been in the Quorum, I thought of President Monson's talk earlier that day. He taught us to be examples of light as we follow the Savior, a poignant and timely message delivered with such conviction from a Prophet of God. Toward the end, though, I ached for him, as it seemed a physical struggle just to stand at the podium, yet nothing could dissuade him from delivering the message he came to deliver. Not so long ago, he lost his beloved wife, and then more recently three of his best friends and closest associates right in a row. It can't help to have all that grief, along with the challenges of a failing body. But to his very last breath, he will keep testifying of the Savior's love. And for that, I am so grateful.
May I share just a few personal reflections.
Elder Jeffrey R. Holland taught of the divine calling of motherhood. Nothing, he explained, more closely compares to the love our Heavenly Parents have for us than the love of a mother for her children. Indeed. I have so often felt that motherhood was my true destiny, and though I'm hardly perfect in the role, it brings me more joy than anything else I've ever done. A mother's love for her children transcends mortal understanding.
Along with Elder Holland, newly-sustained Apostle Elder Dale G. Renlund testified of that same love. He explained that the only way to love our neighbors is to see them as God sees them, through His eyes. It is through the eyes of parents, both earthly and heavenly, that we come to understand the worth of our fellow beings.
President Dieter F. Uchtdorf reminded us that as we simplify our discipleship and focus on the basics, the Gospel will work in our lives. It works! As always, after listening to him, I felt uplifted, encouraged, and strengthened. His message of hope was reinforced by Sister Neill F. Marriott, as she declared with confidence, even through unimaginable tragedy, that “It will all work out.” These words reminded me of something President Hinckley used to say: “Everything will work out in the end. If it hasn't worked out yet, that's because it isn't the end.”
Both Sister Marriott and Elder Larry R. Lawrence stressed the need to ask specifically what is standing in the way of our progression: “Father, is there more?” and “What lack I yet?” When we ask sincerely, our answers will come.
As Elder David A. Bednar, one by one, expressed his love and gratitude for the six apostles who have passed away since he's been in the Quorum, I thought of President Monson's talk earlier that day. He taught us to be examples of light as we follow the Savior, a poignant and timely message delivered with such conviction from a Prophet of God. Toward the end, though, I ached for him, as it seemed a physical struggle just to stand at the podium, yet nothing could dissuade him from delivering the message he came to deliver. Not so long ago, he lost his beloved wife, and then more recently three of his best friends and closest associates right in a row. It can't help to have all that grief, along with the challenges of a failing body. But to his very last breath, he will keep testifying of the Savior's love. And for that, I am so grateful.
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