How To Be A Good College Parent

For the past 10 years, save one, I have had a kid in college. So when I saw an article titled "How To Be A Good College Parent," I was intrigued. Education is important in our family. Gerald and I place its value right up alongside faith, family, and friends. Too bad alliteration fails here, and it doesn't begin with an "F," but you get the idea. I remember once when Luke was in 7th grade, he came home and said, "My friend at school told me college isn't required. He says you have to go to high school, but after that, school is optional." My reply: "Oh, your friend is quite mistaken! I wonder where he ever got that crazy idea. College is absolutely required; it's what you do after high school."

So far, they have believed me, and we now have three college graduates with bachelor's degrees, and one with a PhD even! In the article I read, the first rule for being a good college parent is to "think about your parting words," the point being what you say to your child just before he embarks on what will surely be a life-changing experience, matters. I agree. This caused me to reflect back back to the drop-off conversations I've had with my kids, especially when they were just 18 and it was their first time away.

When we took Luke to Whitman College in Walla Walla, WA, I remember climbing up three flights of stairs over and over and over, hauling up all his stuff to his dorm room. This was actually providential for a glazed-eyed mom who had just come from a parents' meeting, where the president of the college had made us all raise our right hands and repeat the words, "I have done my best." Ahhh! If I wasn't already feeling tremendous loss, sending my firstborn off to a college clear on the other side of the state, this little exercise didn't help. But the workout running up and down those stairs helped. It kept me busy. And focused. And purposeful. And too out of breath to cry. When it came time to leave, I looked at Luke and said something woefully unexceptional like "I love you---I know you'll do great," and we drove off. Thinking I had to be brave, I had fought the full-on tears until that point, but then the dam broke. Poor Gerald.

"Think about your parting words." Hmmm. Not so much.

Just one year later, we had moved to Billings, Montana, and it was time to take Shulamith all the way to Salt Lake City to attend Westminster. Now most of you know she and I are best friends. This is not new. Outnumbered 5-2 in the family, it has been she and I against the world for as long as either of us can remember. How in the heck was I supposed to take her 500 miles to a whole different state and then go home without her? Even now I can't believe I did it, and believe me; I didn't do it very well. As far as "parting words," I was such a blubbering idiot, I don't suppose I said anything intelligible. You can read about it here if you want. You may not want to. It's fairly pathetic.

"Think about your parting words." Eeek.

Five years later, it was Isaiah's turn. I was getting a little better at this. Well I thought I was. Plus, Isaiah was so chill about the whole thing (shocking, I know) that I don't think I felt the emotional impact until after he was gone. I found myself longing to do something for him, something so the goodbye would be special. But what? As so often happens with Isaiah, I felt it wasn't as big a deal as it should be, that there wasn't enough excitement or emotion or ????. This was partly because he, too, was going to Westminster, where Shulamith had graduated just one year earlier. I was well familiar with the school, having visited her dozens of times. The newness simply didn't exist. Desperate to do something Isaiah would like, I dashed over to Cheesecake Factory and bought him a piece of his favorite cheesecake. Through the car window, I handed it to him as we hugged goodbye. His face lit up when he saw the cheesecake; mine was already wet with tears. I uttered something ridiculously corny like, "Remember how very important you are to us and how much we love you." Could it get any less original?

"Think about your parting words." Ha!

Two years later, we were living here in Utah, and it was time to take Eli up to BYU-Idaho, where he would attend one semester before his mission. This time I really believed I was over all this crying and carrying on. It was my fourth time. I had sent one missionary and three college students. I was experienced. No worries. But then the time came. I still remember sitting in the car in the parking lot of the Hinckley Building. Gerald was still working in Montana, so I was alone this time. Well, here, you can read about it yourself.

Yesterday was yet another drop-off day. Not my first. Not even my first with Eli. And I would like to report that I did. not. cry. You can ask Gerald. Nope. And I wasn't even trying to be brave because I gave up all that nonsense long ago. If I wanna cry, I'll cry. I didn't. And this time, I actually thought about my "parting words." They weren't anything profound or earth-shattering or novel. But they were from my heart:

"I love you. So much. I am so proud. My only wish is your happiness. If you need me, you call me. Any time. Day or night. I will come. Have so much fun. Enjoy every second. I love you."

Now I sit here at home, missing him. He has texted on and off throughout the day. In less than 24 hours he has found three former roommates, one former missionary companion, and a friend from high school. He has met and become friends with his new roommates. He has been to his new ward. This next chapter in his life has begun. I am grateful.

"Think about your parting words."

Yes, it's good advice, advice I will try to follow in a few years when it's Seth's turn. But let's not think about that right now. Please, can we just not. Thanks.

In the Middle of "Happily Ever After": A Fairy Tale Come True

Most fairy tales end, "And they lived happily ever after." But don't you sometimes wonder what that "ever after" part entails? What is "ever after" really like?

In our story, we are still finding out. We are in the middle of "ever after."

But wait!

In case you missed the first installment of our fairly tale, let me catch you up. There was this bride; and her search for a wedding gown; and her daughter, who didn't like the sleeves; and her mom, who is an excellent seamstress; and a baby boy; and well, it's too long to tell all over again. Can I direct you here to read the whole story?

Okay, now that you're caught up, let's fast forward a couple of years. The mom of the baby boy was expecting a second child, this time a girl. What would they do? She couldn't wear the same little blessing outfit, adorable though it was. She needed a gown. Fortunately, there was still enough fabric left over from the original wedding dress, so the mom of the first bride set out to sew a blessing gown. This project was indeed more extensive than the little blessing romper, and the mom of the first bride worked hard day after day after day.

Finally, just in time for the birth of the baby girl, the gown was finished. Her first two months of life flew by, and on a warm day in September, surrounded by family, she was blessed by her father.

.

 Her mom cuddled her tight,

And her mom's brothers came from far and wide to be with her.

The best thing about "ever after" is that it is exactly that. We are in the middle of building an eternal unit, a forever family. We are raising our children. We are growing together. We are living our fairy tale.

And they lived happily ever after. A fairy tale come true.

Because My Friend, Rachael, Asked...

Okay, this will be quick. My friend, Rachael, whom I love for many reasons, not the least of which is that she is a devoted reader of this blog, asked me to do a quick post about when to use quotation marks like this: "____" and when to use them like this: '______.'

Simple.

Use double quotation marks in all situations, except one: quotations within quotations. Use single quotation marks for quotations within quotations.

For example,

The CEO explained, "When I interviewed the candidate for the position, he told me that he was simply 'the best person for the job.'"

In the example above,  the comment by the candidate is a direct quotation within the larger quotation by the CEO. Note that there are three marks at the end of the sentence. The single mark indicates the end of the quotation within the quotation, and the double marks indicate the end of the larger quotation.

It could also look like this:

The CEO explained, "When I interviewed the candidate for the position, he told me that he was simply 'the best person for the job,' a comment which I found terribly arrogant."

This makes sense, yes?

As an aside, keep in mind that commas and periods always belong inside the quotation marks. I see it the other way ALL THE TIME. Ugh!

On the other hand, question marks and exclamation marks should go either inside or outside the quotation marks, depending on whether they are part of the direct quotation or part of the entire sentence.

For example,

He said, "Do you love me?"

In this case, the quotation, itself, is a question, so the question mark belongs inside.

In contrast,

Did he say "I love you"?

In this case, the quotation is a statement, not a question. The question is the entire sentence, so the question mark belongs on the outside.

Oh my goodness, isn't grammar fun? I have all kinds of endorphins going on just writing about it.

Thanks, Rachael!

Sunday in Paradise

I'm going to make a confession. I went to Paradise today. On a Sunday. For three hours. Why? Because I desperately needed a quiet place to work, uninterrupted and sans distractions. You see, I contracted during this 4-week semester break to write curriculum for a new course we are piloting this fall. I have been working diligently on this project, a little bit each day, for the past two weeks, but it's now crunch time because it has to be delivered, fully pasted into our online management system, by Wednesday.

And it is fairly impossible to work efficiently in my house. Eight people live here, and I couldn't be any happier about that. Our home is bursting with energy of one kind or another pretty much all the time. It's perfect! But it is not conducive to the type of streamlined focus required to do this particular type of work. Where can one find that type of environment?

Paradise!

By that, I mean Paradise Bakery. It is a lovely little cafe up on Ft. Union (other locations too, but I go to Ft. Union) with free, fast WiFi; comfy booths; electrical outlets; pleasant lighting, yummy cookies; and a fountain with Diet Coke not 10 steps from my favorite table. My first exposure to Paradise Bakery was several years ago before we lived in Utah, when I used to fly here every month or so to visit Shulamith. On one of those weekends, her Internet wasn't working, so we had to go to Paradise to get online.

Today when our church got out at noon, I asked Gerald to drop me off at Paradise, laptop and textbook in tow, with a goal to make serious progress toward meeting my Wednesday deadline. So I am really a stay-at-home mom with very little career aspiration, but today I totally felt like a businesswoman, all cool-like, setting up my laptop next to my textbook and notes. I went straight to work and was fully engaged by 1:15, but by 1:20 it occurred to me that I was freezing! Why do business establishments feel the need to air-condition their buildings down to sub-zero temperatures in the middle of summer??? I was really too cold to function, so I texted Gerald and asked him how he felt about bringing me a hoodie. I don't know how he felt about it, but he did it willingly, and by 1:30 I was back to work.

And that's the last thing I remember until 4:15. Seriously. It was suddenly 4:15, and this nice employee was at my table informing me that the restaurant closed at 3:00 and he would be locking up and leaving in 10 minutes. For real? I had honestly sat there for three hours and not noticed that for the last hour, I was the only customer? What a ditz!

"What? I'm so sorry! I had no idea you closed at 3:00. I would have left. You should have kicked me out."

"No worries, Miss. I didn't want to bother you. You looked really busy."

I quickly gathered up my laptop, etc. and left, sat outside on some nice patio furniture, and texted Gerald to come pick me up. At that point I became aware of my physical body. My brain felt fried. My eyes burned. And I really needed to go to the bathroom! But oh, what progress I had made. Just need to proofread files and tweak a couple assignments, and I'll be ready to submit. Yeah, baby!

But before you get too far into congratulating me on my fine progress, I should mention what happened later. We came home and ate dinner. Eli and Shulamith kindly helped me prepare cube steaks, eggs, and waffles. Then we watched a TV show, and Shulamith left to put her babies to bed, and Seth called Gerald and Eli and me for FHE. He had planned the lesson about the importance of free agency, which he presented so nicely with scriptures and good questions. He's gonna be a wonderful missionary in another four years or so. But then, right at the end, he had this to say:

"So we all have our free agency. For example, Mom thinks it's okay to go to restaurants and buy stuff on the Sabbath. But Eli thinks it's not okay for lots and lots of reasons. So they both have their free agency to choose."

Great.

I've obviously set a fine example for my young, impressionable 14-year-old today.

Sunday in paradise.

"I do believe I have been changed for the better...

...and because I knew you, I have been changed for good."

Saturday evening, Eli and I got all dressed up,

hopped on Trax,

and headed to the Capitol Theatre in downtown Salt Lake City to see the Broadway musical "Wicked."

It was epic.

We share a love for the theatre, Eli and I. Shulamith too, but because she has a 2-month-old baby who likes to eat all the time, she couldn't go with us. And though I reminded her pretty much all day about how jealous she should be, in reality, it was hard to go without her. She would have loved it as much as we did. The last show we saw at the Capitol was "Mamma Mia." It was in June of 2011, so over three years ago. Much has changed since then. We weren't even living in Utah at that time; we would move here the following month. Shulamith had no babies yet. Eli had just graduated from high school. Seth had just finished 5th grade. I thought about all those things as we made our way through the crowd, stopping to take this photo, and as we entered the theater and climbed up and up and up to the only seats we can ever afford.

Even from high in the balcony, we were utterly captivated, taken from this world and dropped into another, into the story told in music and dance of the young girl Elphaba and her transformation into arguably the most notorious, most feared character in movie history, the infamous Wicked Witch of the West from The Wizard of Oz. I grew up watching that movie. I saw it dozens of times. Every time, I longed to be Glinda, sparkling in her elegant ball gown. Every time, I hid behind my mom as I anticipated the arrival of the Wicked Witch. Grateful I am to finally know her story, to look at the whole tale with new perspective.

Grateful I am for the lessons of friendship I learned from Glinda and Elphaba, two so different yet so alike. Friendship matters to me. A lot. Perhaps it's because I come from such a tiny family; in many ways, my friends become my family. As the saying goes, "Friends are the family we choose." I found myself reflecting on some of my own relationships and how my life is, indeed, "changed for the better."

I have been changed for the better because of my friend, Lorrie. From her I have witnessed strength and resilience and joy. Faced with troubles whether big or small, she finds the light in every situation and walks forward in faith that everything will ultimately work out fine. And it does.

I have been changed for the better because of my friend, Patty. From her I have learned that there are always different ways to look at the same issue, a myriad of possibilities, numerous viable options. Her analytical mind is positively brilliant. Whenever I'm struggling to figure something out, Shulalmith says, "Have you asked Patty what she thinks?" And I always do.

I have been changed for the better because of my friend, Lindsey. From her I have learned what loyalty is, unwavering dedication to family. What a devoted wife and mom she is! And daughter and aunt and sister. And friend. My friend. She "gets" me when others sometimes don't. I can tell her anything without fear of judgment. Everyone needs someone like that in her life.

Some people come into our lives for just a second, others for a season, others for a lifetime. These three came for a lifetime. They stayed. I don't mean that in a geographical sense. Sadly, not one of these three strong, beautiful women lives here in the Salt Lake area. One is in Washington. One is in Idaho. One is in Southern Utah. Still, they stayed. They stayed close, close in spirit, close in heart, close in love. They continue to influence my life.

Like Glinda and Elphapa, "I do believe I have been changed for the better, and because I knew you, I have been changed for good."

Kid's n' Cart's - Rhetoric Rant

Okay, you have to admit, I haven't done a rhetoric rant for quite some time. I can't even remember the last time I wrote one, but today, I have no choice. None.

Because what I witnessed yesterday was just too over-the-top egregious to ignore. I was innocently minding my own business in the front area of Harmon's, where they keep the grocery carts. I was waiting for a "car cart" for Shulamith's little boy, Swen. To say Swen is fond of cars (which he calls gawks) is a gross understatement; he is positively obsessed. He grows more delighted each new day than the one before with the number of gawks that exist in the world. They're everywhere!

So when grocery stores provide shopping carts that look like "gawks," oh the joy! That is, of course, if one is available. Sometimes they are all in use. This is not a good day. Swen refuses to ride in a shopping cart that is not a gawk. And who can blame him? I wouldn't either, if I loved gawks as much as he does. So sometimes we have to wait for a car cart (aka every parent's answer to keeping a toddler happy in a grocery store) to become available, which was the case yesterday. As we waited, I happened to glance upward where I saw this very large sign:

NO, I AM NOT KIDDING. I have not altered this photo. It really does look just like this. Blechhhhh!

Can we just take a step backward and focus our attention for one second on apostrophes? Generally, apostrophes do two things: create contractions and show possession. That's pretty much all. In the above phrase, I can't even tell for sure what the message is supposed to be. Is it "Kids AND carts"? Or "Kids IN Carts"? Impossible to tell. Apostrophes in contractions replace letters that have been left out. So if the folks who made this sign meant "and," then it should be 'N' with apostrophes to replace the "a" and the "d." If they meant "in," then it should be 'N, with the apostrophe to replace the "i." Either way, N' makes no sense and creates utter confusion.

Next we have apostrophes in the other two words: "kid's" and "cart's." Why do these words contain apostrophes? I haven't a clue. Apostrophes in nouns show possession or ownership, but in this case, neither of these nouns is possessing or owning anything. It makes me wonder if the sign maker paused and thought, "I haven't used an apostrophe in a while, so maybe I'll just add a couple here." It's that random!

By now I was about to have a meltdown right there in the grocery store, but Swen saved the day when, with anxious eyes and sheer exuberance, he exclaimed, "Big Gawk!" Indeed, one of those precious, sought-after car carts, a bright red one even, was right there in front of us. Into the gawk he went, and off we were to do our shopping.

But not before I took a picture to document this this atrocity and, of course, to serve as the foundation for yet another rhetoric rant.

"Not the Same River"

I wrote earlier about FINALLY getting my van all legal and registered. I'm still so excited to be driving it again; it's almost like having a new car. But more interesting than that was Eli's reaction. A few days ago we were sitting around just chillin', when out of the blue, the following conversation occurred:

Eli: Now that the van is fixed, we can go to Disneyland!

Mom: You want to go to Disneyland?

Eli: Yeah. You guys went there when I was on my mission [guilty], so I want to go. And now that the van is fixed, we have enough room for all of us.

Mom: There are only seven seats in the van.

Eli: That's all we need. For the seven of us.

Mom: Wait...you want JUST the seven of us from our original family to go to Disneyland in the van?

Eli:  Yes.

Mom: You mean you want Luke to come from Indiana, and Shulamith to leave her two children, so we can all go to Disneyland together?

Eli:  Yes. It's perfect now that the van is fixed.

Mom: Honey, that is really never gonna happen. It's just not.


And on some level, Eli has to know this. He has to.

But it was such a sweet thought.

Let me be clear from the start that this has absolutely nothing to do with Eli's feelings about Shulamith's husband, Mathew or Luke's wife, Désirée. He likes them. He likes both of them. Instead, it speaks to his memories, his memories of the joy of childhood, all the "together" times when it was just Gerald and I and our five kids. How old does one have to be to feel nostalgic? I think Eli has reached that age, whatever it is. Nostalgia doesn't mean one is living in the past or even that one is yearning for the past; it means one cherishes memories of times gone by, times that however lovely, are no more.

I remember the year Shulamith and Matt got engaged. It was December, 2009, and Matt and I pulled off the biggest engagement surprise in the history of ever. Matt was with us in Billings up until Christmas Eve, when he flew home to Salt Lake City to be with his family. That evening, I remember thinking, "Tomorrow will be the last Christmas it is just the seven of us." That realization was not accompanied by any particular emotion, happy or sad. Still, it felt important. It felt like something worth acknowledging. The end of an era and the beginning of something very new.

The poet said, "A man cannot step into the same river twice. For it is not the same river, and he is not the same man." 

Eli, one day you too will marry, as will Isaiah, and a long long time from now, even Seth. And the future will be joyous. But no, the family trip to Disneyland with the seven of us in the minivan is not likely to ever come about. Still, I'm glad you treasure the memories just as I do.

I hope the others do as well.