LUCKY NUMBER SEVEN

Alright. I have been tagged-- seven sevens about me. Here goes.

Seven Things To Do Before I Die:
Get a Masters Degree
Serve a mission
Write a novel
Develop a skill well enough to make it useful in my life... something like photography, fashion design (this would require me to know how to sew too, huh?), crochet/knit, aerobics instruction
Learn a foreign language
Have Dan take me to Brazil
Take Dan to all my favorite east coast hot spots

Seven Things I Cannot Do:
Heights--in any way, shape or form
Drive a stick shift
Be the center of attention
Math-- at all (I should add conquering this to my Do Before I Die list)
Watch or listen to commercials/advertisements of any kind
Resist the temptation from a Snickers Bar or Reese's Peanut Butter Cup
Ignore clutter

Seven Things That Attracted Me to My Husband:
His well-rounded personality
His patience in all things
His work ethic and skills
His loyalty and persistence
His eyes and smile
His intelligence
His ability to make me laugh and have fun

Seven Things I Say Most Often:
Calli, what do you say?
Calli, can you say thank you?
Calli, what do you want?
I am getting Elmo.
I am getting Elmo right now.
I see the kitty.
I love you.

Seven Books I Love:
Spin Sisters
Bridget Jones's Diary
The Art of Teaching Writing
To Kill A Mockingbird
The Hours
Tuck Everlasting
Reader's Digest Family Music Book: Great Music's Greatest Hits (Reading music counts, right?)

Seven Movies I Can Watch Over and Over Again:
After some reflection it seems I don't like watching movies over and over, unless they're nostalgic or really hilarious. I had to break down my seven into a group of three and then four. Hey, did I just do a little math there?

Feel Goods:
Anne of Green Gables
Annie
The Best Christmas Pageant Ever

Funnies:
O Brother, Where Art Thou?
About A Boy
The Sandlot
Breaking Away

Seven people I am now tagging:
I'm afraid that seven exceeds my reader base. Anyone out there that wants to do this, have fun!

ELECTION HANGOVER

I'll have to admit that Wednesday morning was a weird one. After a long day on Tuesday of getting out the vote and being glued to the television late into the evening waiting for results, I still sprang out of bed early that next morning to see if what we thought had really come to pass. And it had. Well we knew it-- it just took a while for everyone else to agree. Our hard work had paid off. Proposition 8 passed in California, amending the state constitution to define marriage as only between a man and a woman. It passed by 4-5 points.

After that was confirmed, I looked at my clock and around my house. It was still early--Calli wouldn't be up for a while. "I should take advantage and get some things done." I was too wired (even though exhausted) to go back to bed. I looked out the window to check on our Yes on 8 yard sign (an event now well established into my morning routine), but it was gone. We'd put it in the night before in anticipation of victory. Our yard looked kind of empty now. All of the sudden I realized I wasn't really sure what do with myself. It kind of felt like the day or two after Christmas--After all the labor, anticipation, stress, anxiety, excitement, parties, worry, more labor, the big day, the gift opening, the surprises, the celebrations--It was over just like that. Work on Prop. 8 had kind of taken over around here, especially in the last few days before the election. Don't get me wrong, I had tons to do-- a laundry basket that needing folding, bills on the desk to be paid, a huge pile of clothes to be ironed, winterizing and cleaning up the outside of our house and of course deep cleaning the inside, just to get started on a few. But somehow tackling my very neglected bathrooms just didn't seem or feel as heroic.

I want to thank all of you who helped and supported us in the passage of Prop. 8. Even though we have a long way to go, I am glad to say that we did it and made our moral statement. It feels great to know that across California many others across party, racial and religious lines believe in and support traditional marriage. It felt great to know that on a night last Tuesday when it seemed to be a liberal sweep across the nation, moral values still matter in the United States, as similar measures were passed in Florida and in Arizona.

For those of you who are concerned about my election hangover, don't be. I am coming to. I am getting out of it and getting back to normal life. You know, like making dinner and blogging. I am now going to play catch up, because in October we did do something else besides get wrapped up in that whole election thing.

Pumpkin Farm With Grandma:
Dan's mom came to visit us one weekend and while she was here, we took Calli to a pumpkin farm to look at those orange things she calls "momos" and to watch a goat swallow an entire plastic bag of food taken from the small hands trying to feed it. I think she liked the sheep best.















The weekend was great, even though we felt bad that Grandma had spent her birthday with us at a stinky, pumpkin farm. While she was here Dan and I realized why people hire nannys. It was amazing, as soon as we were done eating dinner, Tammy would take Calli and bathe her and get her all ready for bed. While she did that, Dan and I were tag teaming the kitchen. So what usually takes the two of us two hours it seems, only took the three of us twenty minutes! Wow. Anyone know where I can hire a live in Grandma?


Halloween:

We had a proud parent moment when our "ladybird beetle" won the award for Cutest Costume at our Ward Trunk or Treat. I didn't even know that they did awards at these functions. I suppose her being able to work a red and black polka dot dress with wings makes up for her sassiness. After an afternoon of inspiration, we decided to attend the event also in costume. Lest you think that we dressed up as fantastical versions of ourselves, a hunter and schoolmarm, we actually went as the Palins. I was shocked Dan agreed to do it. But being the election year that it has been, I knew this was the Halloween to be her (Sarah that is). I was longing for my long locks though-- up dos are difficult with layered short hair. I have no idea how many bobby pins were jammed into the back of my head that evening. Don't be deceived by the picture, we did put a little into it. Dan was complete with "First Dude" stickers and penciled in goatee, while I had snazzy red pumps and a sparkling, homemade ALASKA lapel pin. Not bad to be thrown together in an hour or two and without making any trips to the store for flags, flag pins, square frames and what not.


As for the actual holiday, it seemed to go okay other than our YES on 8 sign getting vandalized and our little girl's vocabulary growing through osmosis. Prior to the day, Calli had no idea what candy was or how to say the word and as we took her around to a few neighbors for candy, she acted like, "What are these strange people doing and why are they giving me stuff?" But by nightfall and bedtime, she was very ready to NOT let go of her candy basket. Tired of the struggle, I let her fall asleep with it in her crib and later when she was snoozing away, I took it out of her bed and set it on her dresser. The next morning, she woke up, screamed for our attention, had fingers pointing to the basket and out came the word "CANDY". She still hasn't eaten any of it (though her parents have) . She just likes carrying it around, sorting it and taking it in and out of her basket. Here she is on that shining morning (while rainy, I think), November 1st, along with her "kitty pumpkin" the night before.



Finally, the Introduction of Pigtails:


Despite a few tears, I managed to wrestle Calli down long enough to get some pigtails in. Honestly, as soon as I did, I wanted to rip them out, because my baby girl looked like a bona fide toddler and I was realizing how fast she is growing up. She (and I) managed to keep them in until nap time, though I have been unsuccessful since then to do the same. One of these days it will happen again.





There is one more event worth writing about, but I think it deserves an entry all of its own. Now that the election is over, I might have more time to blog, but the holiday and travel season is upon us-- so excuses are already mounting. At least you ladies and gents are caught up for now!

SO SHE THINKS SHE CAN DANCE

This entry is really for the benefit of my dad, who found a new CD he thought Calli needed. He sent it to her and I took some video of her opening it and listening away. If you watch closely, you can catch a few of her dance (well "bounce") moves too. Unfortunately, I cannot figure out how to flip the images, so they have to be viewed sideways. Happy watching anyway!

FOR I AM NOT ASHAMED OF THE GOSPEL OF JESUS CHRIST

I've had a small dose of chocolate and am ready to roll. Sorry for the blog lag—I’m not sure if it’s been more motivation or circumstances that have kept me behind.

I should start this with a fact—I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (the Mormons). I think you all know that. But just in case you don’t, you should. It is a big part of my life and really is what makes it all meaningful to me.

Weeks before my thirteenth birthday, my family moved-- just a few miles away, upgrading a little to make room for the growing numbers. Even though it wasn't far, it meant a lot to me. It meant one more thing to change.

Within a few months (all before the move), my youngest sister was born, my maternal grandfather died suddenly and unexpectedly and my dad started working for a different firm. Our ward boundaries (defines where we attend church by where we live) were realigned, causing my dad to be released from his church calling as Bishop and put into the bishopric of our new ward. Most importantly through of all this, I STARTED JUNIOR HIGH.

All of this was traumatic to a twelve-year old (really, what isn’t?), but the biggest disruption to my life was the peer turnover. See, I had gone to a small elementary school since first grade, where there was only one class per grade at the school. So as I grew, my close knit group of friends grew with me. The same kids were in the same class for six years in a row. By the time we graduated on from Roxalana—we were pretty unified and ready to become BULLPUPS TOGETHER.

My associations at church were similar. There were a decent number of children my age that I attended church with (from Primary on) and by the time the ward boundaries split, I was pretty distraught to know that I would no longer see them in Sunday School or at Wednesday night activities. As a pre-teen, I had lost my lifeline—my friends.

The move came nine weeks in to my seventh grade year. In retrospect, it was very beneficial for me, though not easy to swallow at the beginning. My new school was true to its name—Rough Rider Territory. I was a scrawny, shy gal in a “more urban” school. Eventually I got the hang of it, and besides, I liked wearing blue more than gray and black on school spirit days.

By my eighth grade year, things were looking up. I had made some good friends, started getting involved in clubs, teams and groups. My very outgoing cousin moved into my neighborhood and started school with me too. I wouldn’t be a lone Mormon anymore!

Though I felt like I fit in, I was always careful to not do, say or wear anything that might change the trend. I guess I was always walking on eggshells.

My very talented and kind mother knew what a challenge all the transitions had been for me. She wanted to do something nice--She tagged up with my cousin and planned a surprise birthday party in honor of my magic day, 14 on the 14th.

One day when we were driving, disaster struck. I caught on to their plan. And I saw them. All of them, sliding out from under the driver’s seat--- bright yellow fliers. Come to the FIESTA for Ashley A. Complete with sombrero graphics and all. I was horrified. My mom loves throwing parties and decorating, but that would definitely not be cool to a group of bratty teenagers. This would not be normal. This would draw attention to me. This would make people come to my house!

My mom, of course, was upset that I found out about the party, but was probably more upset that I was begging her to NOT do the nice thing for me that she wanted to. I was pretty angry with my cousin for going behind my back and doing this to me. How dare she! Want to throw me a party? What nice person does that?

After pleading, and I am sure some yelling and crying, I realized that people had already been invited. I decided I had just better let the thing happen. But it was good that I knew ahead of time. I had time to prepare.

I think I talked my mom out of doing too many themed things (although I can’t remember anymore) and I went around throughout the whole house and took down or flipped over anything that might identify me as a “MORMON”. I mostly remember turning books on bookshelves backwards so that titles could not be seen—titles like THE MORMON WAY or maybe ones with references to an LDS temple or prophet.

This is so silly now to think about. I am pretty sure most of those kids did not know what a Mormon was or even make the connection that maybe if we had a Book of Mormon in the house that I might actually be one. I am really sure that they did not peruse our shelves and notice what light reading (or heavy, for that matter) we had around. And I know for sure they wouldn’t even have known what to make fun of a Mormon for. But I thought they might. After all, I was the only one whose mom came to the football games with a double stroller.

The party went off without a hitch. It turned out better than expected—tons of kids came and plenty stayed longer than the flier called for. My girlfriends doted over my cute baby sisters. No one said I was weird for having so many siblings. And NO ONE said anything about Mormons.

Eventually, most people who knew me knew (and some may have known then) that I belonged to the LDS church. Plenty got the hang of what that meant and what that stood for. I obviously got a little more comfortable with who I was and the differences I may have with others. I’d like to say that my ability to hide my religion was lessened and it was, but not to the extent it should've. There were times that came and went when I could have said more, explained why or flat out defended the truth. Whether it was fear of fitting in, fear of offense, fear of not sounding clear or coherent or just fear alone, it didn't matter. It always got in the way.

Well the time has come to redeem myself. Besides feeling a renewed sense to share the happiness that the gospel brings, I also have the chance to stand up for an important gospel truth—that of the importance and eternal nature of the family.

I've been on the phone and Dan’s been knocking doors. The yard sign is going up tomorrow. We are letting people know that we believe marriage should be and only be, between a man and a woman.

In a few weeks, Californians will vote on a proposition to amend the state constitution to define marriage as such. We are in a battle and we need help. This is obviously a sensitive issue to many. I have given it MUCH contemplation and thought. More than I thought I would've needed at first glance. I've read things. I've talked with people. I feel like I have a lot to say.

But the best thing I can do is to keep those things unsaid. I could rant about celebrity comments or debunk an argument from the other side-- I could cry to the apathetic undecided with stats or quote from cases. I could plead with other young mothers to protect children and the environment they will grow up in. I could remind everyone that we do not hate when we say “no”. We do MORE than the desired “tolerate”, we love. Instead, I want you to do that in your minds. I want you to study, ponder and contemplate. I want you to get involved and decide for yourself why this matters to you.

If you care about marriage, families, children, schools and faith then you should care about this issue. I encourage you to go to protectmarriage.com. I encourage you to do what you can. And while you’re at it, check out lds.org. It will give you insight into the gospel of Jesus Christ that I now share with joy.

WHOA, BIG TRUCK!

This morning I watched my friend's son, Tanner. It also just happened to be the same morning that the house across the street got a new roof. The merging of these two events was not only a great coincidence but also of great benefit to me. Check out what happened:

Ashley: Do you hear that big truck?

Four little stammering feet make it to window by front door.

Tanner: something, something, BIG TRUCK!

Ashley follows the little ones to window for confirmation.

Ashley: Oh, I see the big truck.

Tanner: Yeah, Big Truck. Wow.

Calli: Wow.

So we went outside for a while and sat on the front lawn and watched the workers tear up the wood shake roof and throw rods, misc. pieces and rolls of wood planks into the BIG TRUCK. This was great entertainment. And I didn't have to do anything. Anything except dream that I could have a large team of workers tear up my roof in a few hours and replace it in one day. Anything except wonder what kind of roof they were going to put on. Anything except think that maybe we should replace our roof. Anything except remember we can't afford to replace out roof right now. Anything except remember to remind Dan to add Patch The Roof Ourselves onto the TO DO list before winter. Anything except answer questions from toddlers.

Calli: Dada? (Pointing to workers on the roof)

Ashley: No, that's not Dada. (Your Dada doesn't tan quite like that and doesn't speak Spanish.)

Calli: Dada?

Ashley: No, that's not Dada. (Maybe the ball caps were throwing her off.)

Ashley: Your Dada's at work. (Maybe she's right. I am sure some of those guys are Dadas.)

Tanner: Where's my mama?

Ashley: Your mama had to go to the doctor.

Tanner: Oh, where's my mama?

Ashley: Your mama had to go to the doctor.

Tanner: (Pointing to Calli) Where's my mama?

Ashley: I'm Calli's mama. I'm right here.

Tanner: Where's mama?

Ashley: She's at the mommy doctor, checking on the baby.

Tanner: You go to BOY doctor?

Ashley: Oh, no. I go to the mommy doctor, just not today. (Finally realizing he didn't know why all mommies weren't at the Mommy doctor.)

Tanner: Oh. BIG TRUCK.

And so the distraction of demolition, unusual sounds and large vehicles continued for a short while. Here's how the rest of it played out:

Tanner: Big Truck.

Calli: Wow.

Loud noise... Large pieces of wood flying into a larger dump truck from some undisclosed amount of feet above. How many feet? Question to ask engineer.

Tanner: Whoa.

Calli: Whoa.

Tanner: BIG TRUCK.

Calli: Wow.

Tanner: Wow.

Another loud noise.... hitting the truck, a large pole--unsure of what purpose it served. Second question to ask engineer.

Small voice chorus: WHOA. WOW. WHOA.

Tanner: Big Truck.

It was a fun morning of watching for them, well and for me. I won't be surprised if Calli's next words are BIG TRUCK.

ISN'T SHE LOVELY?

Readers Beware: The material in this post may be inappropriate for anyone other than Calli's grandparents or other parents feeling nostalgic. This is just some adoring ramblings about my daughter.

I took her in for a routine check-up this week, finding still that she is a lightweight (19.9 lbs.) with a head start in becoming a chatterbox. The doctor asked how she was doing and what words she was saying-- Her questions caught me off guard a little, so I spouted off the obvious. Later that day I started listening with more intent--I was amazed at all she can say and do. This led to a little game of paying more attention, thus becoming even more smitten by my little girl.

Before I go on, take note of the following from author Anna Quindlen (as quoted by Elder M. Russell Ballard) ...“The biggest mistake I made [as a parent] is the one that most of us make. . . . I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of [my three children] sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages six, four, and one. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less."

Not to fall into that trap, I am trying to "live in the moment." This week I succeeded.

Here's what I noticed:

Words She Can Say With Ease:

Dada

Baby

Ball

Nana (as in Banana)

No, No (must not forget this one)

(still waiting for YES, YES to counter No, No)

Yeah (with claps, not yes in the affirmative, still waiting...)

Hi, Hello, Bye-Bye

Uh-Oh

Wow, Whoa, What

Words She Can Say When She Wants To:

Mama, Mommy (not sure why she's forgetting this one)

Up please (why say it when grunting, screaming and tantrums work just fine)

Words She's Starting to Copy:
Cookie (of course she's mastering this one already)

Icky, Stinky, Dirty

Grandpa (more like un-pa)

Words She's Working On All By Herself:

Me, Mine (Declaration of Independence)

Dog

Cow

Things She's Doing That Are Too Irresistible To Not Mention:

Saying "umm" after she tastes something yummy (another word I failed to mention)

Playing dress up in Mommy's bathroom (bracelets on arms, "pretties" in her hair, grown up shirts on sideways and grabbing a purse when we go-- just wondering why the pretties are only fun to wear and keep on INSIDE of the house?)

Running (speed-walking) to Daddy when he comes home to give hugs

Kisses in church when Mommy can actually sit in the audience with her (even though they are open mouth, on the lips, in public)

The phone: (cell, her cell, her old-school toy dial phone, cordless, remote control or anything else that resembles a phone, even a bookmark) saying hi or hello on it non-stop

Attempts to put keys in the door and car ignition (Mommy, Miss Independent is ready now)

Making soup (mixing her spoon and bowl or bucket and shovel together)

Sharing toys with kids at the library and her friend, Evan

Finding babies everywhere-- in pictures, on diaper boxes, at the store, even pointing to a mom with a stroller at the park (She could not see the baby in there, but she saw the stroller alone--pointed to it and said to me, "Baby")

Loving her dolls-- cuddling them and patting them on the back

Folding her arms for nighttime prayers

Sorry if these lists made you incredibly bored or a little nauseous. I warned you from the start! But really she is most lovely! Isn't she the loveliest when she's napping and I can actually write this post? (Earlier today I tried and she shut the computer off while I was typing.) Here's one more list that may appeal to a broader audience:

Other Triumphs of the Week:

Paid homage to Stevie Wonder and pulled out a collection I have of his (there's so much more than "I Just Called To Say I Love You")

Broke a fashion rule with confidence (wore an all white dress to church AFTER Labor Day, figured it was okay since it was 104 degrees in September)

Managed to exercise a few times (including a 6 am yoga session)

Got three wearings out of a light-colored pair of pants before having to stain treat, wash, or iron them (no cracker crumbs or crayon marks, WOW)

Learned how to do a chain stitch in crochet (hope the stitch name is right!)

Wrote two blog entries in a 7 day period...maybe all of you can start to expect a little more!

I'LL TAKE TWO TOSS PILLOWS AND A SMALL DOSE OF INSANITY

Confession: I have a love-hate relationship with decorating. You see, I really enjoy making something look good. I love having a creative outlet that is also functional--something I can physically do and SEE results. But I hate the snowball effect that follows.

Saturday I escaped for some much needed retail therapy OUT OF THE HOUSE. I actually went to run a few errands and stumbled upon some great finds for our bedroom.

Let's see.... first find... PERFECT! Two pillows that would go great on my bed and add a much needed accent color. Just what I've been looking for... for a while. Next find... Ha! A nice landscape mural on clearance for twenty dollars! Love the size for over our bed and the colors go great in the scheme in our room. Still undecided if I should paint the wood frame of the picture (white, black, or maybe go bold and do yellow?....) or just leave it alone. Last one... a terrific little planter for the cactus Dan brought home to me on our anniversary. (Yes, I said cactus. His reason, "Flowers die." This only needs to be watered every 15-20 days. He trusts I can handle it. Still, I'm a little stunned that an ugly desert plant is a symbol of his affection for me-- after all I'm an east coast girl. I like green, flowering things that NEED to be watered (or more accurately rained on), not things that hoard it.) Somewhere along the way he remembers me mentioning that a cactus is a cool plant. Now it definitely will be in this pot on our windowsill. I got four great things that I wasn't expecting to find in less than an hour for under fifty dollars.

So what's the problem?

Well I start by bringing home the goods and analyzing my room. With a murky vision in mind, I pull out my folder of ideas (i.e. torn out pages from various catalogs or magazines) and begin to match the look. I take the new pillows and place them next to old ones. Darn. They are a little too close in size to really compliment the other pillows on the bed. All the colors and textures are getting lost here. Should the stripes go horizontally or vertically? Ooh.. what about diagonally or with the pillows in diamond shape? Why don't these things lay right? There. That looks good. Step back and take a look. UGH! From back here they aren't looking just right. I can only see one color and one size!

I am sure this is sounding scary to many of you. I think it was scaring Dan too. Or at least amusing him. I probably rearranged those pillows 25 times or more. Finally, I let it go and somehow magically Sunday morning when I went to make the bed ON THE FIRST TRY, they looked great from any view--up close, on either side of the bed and from down the hall. I guess a little shut-eye and some pillow time (pun intended) did the trick.

Decorating around here is a LONG process on a budget. We have a little fund for house things. Little as in we find ourselves in IKEA instead of Pottery Barn, of course with a fifteen month old in tow. So, when I find great deals-- I snatch them. Even if it's not exactly PERFECT. I guess on Saturday part of me thought, "I wish I could afford perfect toss pillows, but this is the best I could find. I wish I could buy right out of the catalog or show room-- exactly how it looks, the WHOLE SET. I wish I didn't feel guilty about chucking the old pillows that maybe aren't working with the new ones, because I can't STAND wasting money or finding a place to store unused things. I wish I didn't have to find a new use for the old pillows to satisfy my inability to throw them out or store them. I wish I had more time to shop and look around IN PEACE for the things I'd like to do around the house, instead of squishing it in between naps, snacks or other tasks. I wish I could learn more about decorating and actually know what I was doing instead of guessing. But then I'd wish I wouldn't feel like I had to follow rules of decorating. I wish I could just hire a decorator. I wish I didn't have to waste time buying, trying out, returning and feeling like I'm back at square one."

And it gets a little worse. After I start a project and it doesn't work out, I move on to something else. "Since I'm in the bedroom, I think those pictures aren't working right there. I should move them. I should rearrange them. I should replace them with new ones. I should start looking through old albums and downloading pictures to print to put in the frames. Maybe I can get them printed today? No, I need new mats. I'll have to shop for interesting-sized ones first."

What happens is by the end of the day, I have a whole lot of barely-started project piles everywhere. I get nothing accomplished of what I should. (What dishes?) It makes me a little crazy. Or a lot. I am unhappy with what I have. Which is completely wrong. I should be grateful. Instead I'm negative. I let it domino into other rooms. I am frustrated with the way things look or work that I've done in the past. After being immersed in images of beautifully-photographed, well-designed rooms, mine just feel like they don't measure up. I end up longing for more time to finish what I began and hope that it will flow with ease. It makes me really wish one of the biggest wishes of all-- I wish Sunday didn't follow Saturday.

I never thought I was a perfectionist. I can skip over details and do things in a hurry and call it good. I never thought I was a perfectionist, until I married one (Sorry, Dan you know you are too--just a more balanced one in a different way). I never thought I was a perfectionist, until I got into a home.

This past spring, Dan and I were running into similar problems with feeling like projects (code for materialism, I guess) were overtaking our lives. We talked about perfectionism and found an interesting article. I also watched a segment on a morning TV show that hit home. For my sake, as a good reminder and for anyone else who struggles out there, here are a few of the highlights:

"She has color-coded folders to organize her take-out menus and bills. Clear containers to stash her toddler's toys. A fridge with condiments neatly in a row." Sounds familiar.

"Welcome to the world of the compulsive neat freak. 'I do drive myself crazy,' confides Donna Sullivan, a mother of two and a part-time accountant. “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t like this. But when I come in and everything is clean, I feel calmer. I think that’s why I do it.” Me too.

"Call them neat freaks or clutter-phobes— the types who lament their house is a total mess if one coffee table book is slightly out of place. Experts say the desire for neatness runs along a spectrum, from finicky Felix Unger-types with a need for control to those with a truly life-hampering disorder, such as TV’s Adrian Monk, the obsessive-compulsive detective. " Okay, I'm not that bad.

"Anxiety has evolutionary value — it keeps us alert and vigilant,” says psychotherapist Tom Corboy, director of the OCD Center of Los Angeles. “The problem is people can develop this over-the-top anxiety to things that don’t deserve it, like knickknacks on a shelf.” Yikes. I am that bad.

"When it crosses the line into pathology, psychologists say, is when it begins to negatively affect your life. “It’s a problem when your need for constant order causes you extreme distress or problems in your relationship." Your honor, I'll introduce this blog as exhibit A into evidence.

"David H. Freedman, co-author of the book, “A Perfect Mess: The Hidden Benefits of Disorder,” argues that extreme neatness does have some drawbacks. One, he says, is the loss of creativity. “If you make your environment very neat, you’re making everything predictable,' he says. “You will lock out bad things — you’re less likely to be late, things are less likely to spill or break — but you’re also locking out luck.” That messy desk or kitchen is more conducive to making the random connection that could lead to a scientific breakthrough or a new recipe. Another, surprisingly, is time. True, messy people waste time rummaging for their keys. But, Freedman says, neat people spend all their time constantly putting things away throughout the day, while those who let things pile up and tackle them in one chunk save precious minutes in the long run." I am starting to see a problem.

“People who are neat are helpless to be otherwise — they’re prisoners of it.” A real problem.

Solution, please! "When you're trying to be a perfectionist, you really can't have balance." Oh.

I just find it amazing that something which starts out as fun and as a productive hobby can turn into a monster that really makes my life out of whack-- in record time. What do I do? Just give it all up together and wait until I can afford to do it in one shot with really nice things done by a really qualified person (which I'm thinking the cash flow for that will never be around). Or just give up. Be happy with what I have and find a new hobby. Save (or spend) my money on something else that brings more satisfaction. But will I be able to overcome the itch to make things nice around here? Or do I just keep on trying to do what I have been doing with a little more balance?

The article and video links are posted below if anyone is interested in learning a little bit more. In the meantime, I hope for a little more ying and yang in my life. Hopefully you have it more than I do.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/23565682/

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/23466228/
(After clicking on the link, click on the launch button to watch the video.)

LOVE IS WHAT YOU GO THROUGH TOGETHER

After loading some final things into the moving truck, we took a quick walk-through to make sure nothing was left behind. Room by room we went, analyzing the space and checking behind doors and in every corner. All the physical objects were gone, but something was there--something more.

Dan and I had spent that first year of our married life not only learning to love, but learning to work with each other. We'd bought a small, fixer-upper home and spent plenty of evenings and Saturdays making it our own. Turning it from filthy to clean, from old to new. I suppose as we polished the rough spots of this house, we were also polishing each other.

So as we walked through the hall the last night we were there, we realized that all that was left in that house was what we'd done to it. All we could see were beautiful new floors, freshly painted walls and the memories we made making it happen. No wonder the tears came so easily.

We left that house separately. I drove the car and followed him in the moving truck. To keep each other company and communicate if need be (See, I told you we were technologically challenged--of course we didn't have cell phones), we bought walkie-talkies. While driving off onto a lonely road, we fought the static to talk. We were sad to leave, but eager to go and had much to share with each other. That night was cold, crisp and dark. But I remember feeling more than that. I felt incredibly close to Dan as I relied on his conversation and understanding. It was then that I realized (which has been more eloquently and recently said), "Love is what you go through together."

We recently celebrated our fourth wedding anniversary (I know we are still babies), my youngest sister turned sixteen (and I was called upon to give dating advice) and two of our our siblings married this summer. Love has been in the air and also on my mind.

I noted on the morning of Stacie's wedding when the sealer (man who married she and Austin) said, "I am happy to announce to you that you will have problems." How true! It's not that they are a bad combination of people, a bride and groom headed for destruction, it's that we all do-- have problems that is. We just have to learn how to handle them in the right way.

I saw a great example of this when my friend Dani came to visit me this summer. She and her husband, Jarron, can roll with the punches with ease. While Jarron was waiting in the water of our pool to catch their son, Mayes, Dani unknowingly let him go without Jarron quite being ready. Dani did what all moms do-- cried out, "Jarron, Jarron!"and then he quickly got Mayes from underneath the water. But I watched with amazement as these two coped with a potential marriage firecracker-- they could laugh and smile it off. Mayes was fine and so was everyone else. No need to yell, no need to blame. No big deal.

Dan and I both just recently read Leadership and Self-Deception: Getting out of the Box. It's a business- minded book, but really is about relationships and thought control. We found after reading it, how easy it is to take each other for granted, to harbor resentment and constantly blame someone else for your problems. As my eyes have opened, I cannot say how free I've felt as I've let things go and forgiven (others and myself). What a world of difference and a dramatic change in perspective. I echo these words from Elder Uchtdorf (LDS church leader), "For our own good, we need the moral courage to forgive and to ask for forgiveness. Never is the soul nobler and more courageous than when we forgive." Talk about inspirational. Those words actually make me want to something that I usually don't want to do.

After John-Mark's wedding, his new father-in-law shared an excerpt from writer Orson Scott Card. He'd been in a bookstore and was perusing the self-help aisle of books (Note: The article was about what books not to read, so don't write down any titles!) He wrote the following about a certain book titled, "How to save your marriage by making sure you wash your face and clip your fingernails. (I'm sure there was more to the book than that, but I set it down after randomly opening it to that sage advice). How to achieve spiritual fulfillment through a series of steps that didn't seem to me to be anywhere near as useful as the two-step program, "Love the Lord your God with all your heart, might, mind and strength, and your neighbor as yourself," which is in a book I already own. " I dare not ask Mr. Card if my Leadership book makes the cut, but the simple advice he passes on is profound and divine. What if instead of looking for the cause of what went wrong, we take on the cause to always make things right? What if we loved and cared for each other always before ourselves?

This is heavy stuff for a sixteen year old. She doesn't need to be thinking about all that yet! But I did share something with Ali that we all could hear and remember. I told her to, "always work on being the best you. Do the best you can to make yourself attractive and then forget about yourself and focus on others. Work hard in your schooling and/or job, keep developing your talents, appreciate the good in life and try new things. As you help other people and become well rounded, you will be happy and others will want to be around you." Aren't our spouses and families the most important things EVER and don't we owe them that?

Dan and I have since moved on to a new home and moved on "through plenty of things together". Guess that's why we feel so lucky-- I guess we really are.

STAY AT HOLMES MOM?

I knew that motherhood would be a juggling act of playing several roles. Nobody told me being a detective was part of the job description.

Shall I set the scene of what its like in the Swensen house as of late?

Background Noise:
Open. Shut. Open. Shut. Doors, drawers, cabinets and lids (of garbage cans and toilets mostly).

Inner Dialogue:
Where is/are?....

Results (from this week ALONE, well mostly):
my flip flops (in the garbage can)
my hair curlers (in the master bathroom toilet)
that string cheese she was eating (sandwiched between Dan's missionary reference library)
that animal cracker she was eating (in the dishes drawer)
the Cinderella cell phone she was playing with (in the bathroom drawer and also later recovered in the garbage can)
her comb, baby shampoo, and baby powder (in the hall bathroom toilet)
my bracelets (all in the master bathroom toilet)
that laundry I was sorting (in the garbage can)
her doll (in the hall toilet)
the bowl of goldfish crackers she was carrying around (dumped out and squished inside her wagon)
the limeade can I just threw away (on her arm like a bracelet)
that cup she was drinking out of (behind the toaster inside a kitchen cabinet)
hangers for her clothes (in the hall bathroom drawer)
hangers for my clothes (in her shopping cart)
that sour cream I threw away (all over her hands)
the garbage from our master bath (in one of my purses)

I have high hopes for my daughter. She can do anything she wants in life. But I don't feel that she has to resort the sanitation department just yet! Doesn't she want to be a pretty princess and not play with icky, disgusting things from the garbage and then bathe them in toilet water?
I guess I should just marvel at her curiosity.

This part of the job is driving me (the neat freak) into a state of madness (i.e. When I retreieved her cell phone from the garbage, I immediately rinsed it off in the sink, not thinking that I would allow water to get into it and cause it to not work for a few days. Does anyone know if Disney has a warranty on princess cell phones?) or into a state of incredible vigilance (Do nothing but watch like a hawk and contain her). We have now adopted a new motto-- Look before you go, look before you throw and for heaven sakes shut the door behind you! Hopefully this will work at least until she figures out (or gets tall enough) to open some of the doors.

THE FRUITS OF OUR NON-LABOR

Labor: Enduring painful contractions and pushing to deliver a baby.

Non-Labor: What's been going on in our yard.

The prophet said to plant a garden so that's what we did. My reluctance to do so is not from a lack of faith, but a lack of skill. After all, my resume in this field is blank. But Dan convinced me to do it even though I was worried that it would be one more thing to do! (Which it did become... hence the non-labor). We've been busier this summer than originally anticipated, so our garden hasn't been nourished as much as it should have been. But it has done quite well considering (and with some help from our green-thumb, previous homeowners who left a nice base), we've had a few things pop up and that were enjoyed this summer....

Juicy Watermelon

Fresh Lemon Zest for Lemon Scones

Tasty Asian Fruits- Mandarin Oranges, Asian Pears, Jujube

Strawberries (also discovering this is Calli's fave fruit)

Homemade Mexican Salsa (Tomatoes & Jalapenos)

Zucchini for Tortellini Soup

Yellow Grape and Cherry Tomatoes for Green Salad

Straight Neck Squash in Pasta Salad

Still to come...

Homemade Dill Pickles

Zucchini Muffins

One Baby Pumpkin (should be ready in time for Halloween!)

So dear garden, thanks for giving when you didn't receive.

Well, that's a stretch. The garden has received SOME treatment.

One evening Dan was to watch Calli while I was gone teaching piano lessons and also had the responsibility of weeding the garden. He quickly found out how hard it is to accomplish much with her "helping". Since we have a pool in the backyard (fence to come soon), you have to really keep an eye on her when out there.

When I came home, I was amazed to see the entire garden had been weeded and looked great. I asked him how on earth he did that with Calli! He then told me that too keep her contained, he "tied a rope around her waist and tied the rope to a tree in the garden area." I gasped. He continued, "Don't worry, she had about 10 feet on either side of tree. She could still play." I suppose this isn't as cruel as it sounds-- I guess its an old-fashioned leash for kids... (Don't call CPS on us! We love our daughter I promise.) But you can bet Mommy won't let that happen again. I guess you can see why the garden can get neglected sometimes. But she's worth it. :)

THE ROOKIE

This is a follow up blog to my previous entry, IF IT AIN'T BROKE.


Before my sweet Calli was born, I foolishly longed for my stay-at-home mom days. I couldn't wait for all the free time! Chores would be done, I would be able to operate on my own time-table and I would have a cute baby girl to dress up.

Within weeks of her birth, I found out what a joke that was. Instead, I discovered that newborns rock your world more than anything else ever can.

Let's start with schedule: I operated on hers. PURELY.

Screaming: Happened every night from 7-10 pm and in the car ALWAYS. Evening calm only came on the “sleep train”, i.e. Dan or I pacing around our one-bedroom apartment with dimmed lights and lullabies in the background. Calli’s comfort orders: “Oh, no pacifier, please. Thumb sucking? That’s for babies. Cuddling? No, I want to see the world!”

Eating: Snack nursing was how she’d have it. Five minutes here, five minutes there with a lot of fussing and non-burping (unsuccessful attempts) in between. Side refusal was common. Bottles were not an option. Wondering what the heck I was eating that was making her this way? Constant thought on my mind. Rearranged diets? You bet. Successful? No.

Sleeping: This was the worst. Nights (if you can call them that) were average, but the day time was what killed me. She only took two 40 minute naps a day. Time only to take a shower (but not dry your hair) and cram a few bran muffins in your mouth. Or time only to decide what to do next: Sleep when your baby sleeps? Shower? Eat something healthy? Make something healthy? Dishes? Bills? Laundry? Clean? Do something nice for husband? Exercise? Spend time with church calling? Spend time doing something I enjoy? Read? Read scriptures? All noble things. I never new where to start and usually didn’t.

Nap Extension Tries: Going from bouncing arms, to cradle, to bouncing arms, to cradle, to Baby Bjorn, to stroller (after climbing a flight of stairs, locking one door, unlocking another and avoiding getting slammed by them), to undoing the stroller mess, to nursing, to pacing, to bouncing arms, to cradle, AT LAST! was common. We eventually got it down to Baby Bjorn and stopped there.

Not wanting to focus only on the negative here, let’s move on to some other things.

Diapers: Champion. Calli had more than the hospital tally sheet required.

Development: Ahead of the game. Rolling over at six weeks, very alert and kicking ALL DAY. Bicycle kicks under the ceiling fan were her specialty.

Spitting Up: Hardly ever happened.

Appearance: She was beautiful. I couldn’t ask for more.

Looking back, Calli was a demanding little infant. She probably would've been defined as a colicky baby, though I hesitated to ever label her as such. How would I dare know? I was a new mom and refused to make excuses for behavior that could've been very typical. She was simply learning how to sleep, to cope with her new world.

Because of this, I struggled with feeling in control of my life. I rarely got things done that I wanted to. I imagine this is a common tale, but for me it seemed worse. I'm a workaholic, control-freak and borderline OCD (self-diagnosis). But I felt like I was treading water just to make it day to day. I needed to swim, and not just laps, I wanted to swim to destinations. I wanted to feel like I was getting somewhere. I wanted to progress in life and not just survive it.

I can remember a day that was particularly bad. The specifics are gone now, but it seemed to be a day that was a combination of all the above newborn disasters. By the time Dan came home from work, I'd had it. My arms were shaking from fatigue. I’d literally held her ALL DAY. I was exhausted and embarrassed that I’d accomplished little. I felt like a failure on ALL fronts.

With welling eyes, I turned to my recently returned home husband and said, "I'm sorry, but I've done nothing today." He looked at me with kindness and quietly said, "But you HAVE done something today. You've been taking care of our baby." These words seemed to pour slowly out of his mouth, as if I was to REALLY hear them and absorb every syllable.

I started thinking about it. He was right. This baby was clean, dressed and most likely had a fresh diaper on. She'd had at least what counted for one or two good feedings that day. She had a mother who'd tried everything in her power to make her happy.

The principle I learned during my 'a-ha' moment of motherhood is relatively simple (and probably nothing new for you seasoned moms), but the discovery of it is what made it profound. I have an excellent husband to thank for that. He truly believes the lesson he taught me. He supports me when I spend time with Calli regardless of what else needs to be done, and he NEVER ONCE EVER has complained when dinner wasn't ready at the end of the day (or even started) or when laundry wasn't caught up (though he has never had to go without clothes). I, however, notice when things on my "Honey-Do" list aren't getting checked off as quickly as I want.

So now I try to make more time for the park, stories, swimming and hide-and-go seek. I think of the quote I learned in college more often, "It matters more what you do WITH a child, rather than what you do FOR them." I try to notice the good my husband does every day and remember he does A LOT away from home that I don't see. I am trying to be a more hands-on mom and a less critical wife. I am trying to find a balance between my "mommy work" and my "house work" and whatever other tasks I do on a daily basis.

Thankfully, I have a lifetime and more to figure it out.

IF IT AIN'T BROKE

After admiring many-a-blog with charming backgrounds, cute layouts and creative headers, I have decided to keep ours the good ole' same way I intended it to be that night I created it (nothing compares to midnight rushes of inspiration) -- understated, yet bold in a simple kind of way. After all, whatever this blog lacks in style it will make up for in substance, right?

On to what this entry is really about... As you know, I got into the blah, blah, blog thing because of peer pressure. So many great blogs were out there, I just couldn't resist and jumped on the bandwagon. One blog that drew me in belongs to my friend, Michal. Her spot, Relishing Motherhood, (http://www.sleepymum.blogspot.com/) is one that has been around for a while but I only recently appreciated after stumbling upon it while searching through old emails for something.

Not long after I became a more consistent Relishing Motherhood reader, I found myself (after a long day and anxious evening) on the couch. I couldn't sleep. I was just sitting there. Overwhelmed. Frustrated. Discouraged. Everything to do, but too tired to do any of it. (Sadly this seems to be a state I find myself in often.) Knowing what should be done, but finding it too hard to do. So, I turned to my computer and scrolled down my Favorites column-- I caught up on blog reading. I found these words from Michal (6/18/08):

"So often I get swept up in the to-do list, in the rush-rush of everyday life, in the seemingly endless piles of laundry, grocery lists, and bits of who-knows-what that need to be vacuumed from my 28 year old carpet. And yet, if I let those things define my day, my job, my life, then I've missed the whole point. I am not a stay at home mom because of those things. We could easily outsource those things if I had a full time paying-me-what-I'm-worth kind of job. We have chosen for me to be at home for the sake of our children and our marriage and our family."

I wanted to say AMEN! I felt so sick of being ruled by my lists and unable to do what I should be doing- to find joy in life as a wife and mother. I was glad to hear someone struggled with similar things.

Michal went on to encourage readers to share their own "ah-ha moments of motherhood" via a writing contest. I didn't write in for the contest (I'm not really of the competitive kind), but I did mentally scrounge up an experience worth writing about.

So my next post will be devoted to sharing that story. Hopefully I get around to it before you readers lose interest! Hang in there... it will be worth the wait.

WHERE IS THE PICTURE!

Friends, Family and Fellow Bloggers--

My sister-in-law, April, has been helping me make my blog more fabulous. (Thanks a million!) But in my haste to perfect the blog, I have messed up the header and now our Golden Gate picture is gone. I have it saved on my computer at home and when I get back (in a week or so) it will be back or maybe even something more impressive will replace it. Stay posted....

FAMILY, ISN'T IT ABOUT TIME?

Our summer is full with family functions this year and for the next little while we will be busy with such events. To kick off the string of fun, my mom and sister came out to visit us. Here's a few of things we did:




Us at a 4th of July breakfast in the park and getting "thrown" in our backyard pool

Star-Spangled Calli cheers for the parade and watches fireworks with Grandma

Playing at the Golden Gate Bridge



Calli, Calli, Calli...toddling at the temple, smiling for Grandma and wading in the sun

TO BLOG OR NOT TO BLOG

Well that's the question that's been on my mind for quite some time now. Really, I mean what is a blog anyway? Some time-sucking, creative outlet that will always be on my to-do list? Most likely. So why would I want to do it and jump on the bandwagon now?

First, you should realize that Dan and I are technologically challenged. Not to say we can't use items of the new era, but we struggle in buying them. It seems we are always saving for something and gadgets don't fit in the budget. You should have seen us a year ago when we got call-waiting. CALL WAITING. For crying out loud! I remember being put on hold when I chatted on the phone with my girlfriends in elementary school 20 years ago. But we were overjoyed that we had a reason to use the flash button and not only that, we could also screen calls from telemarketers, because in our call waiting package came CALLER ID. Now we were living it up! Pathetic. So to keep with our S's-come-lately trend, we have just now entered the blogosphere. Blame our timeline on the bank.

Now, I know what you are thinking... blogs are free! This is where me being out of the loop comes into play. I blame this on my former life as a preschool teacher. Once, I graduated college and started working, I entered the world of cut and paste (YES, with actual glue and paper), laminating machines and limited need for a computer-- basically to check email or occasionally book a flight. So, really you can't blame me for my delayed creation of a blog. Blame the kids! Those darling little 4 year olds who used to color on my khakis and bring satisfaction to my (then) simple life? Okay, don't blame them. Blame the school district.

Once I discovered what blogs actually were, I thought they definitely were not for me. I would never have time for one (which now I realize, I never will, I have to make time) and I was sure my perfectionism would emerge as I worked on it, consequently driving me insane (which now I realize, I have to learn to control, regardless of what I am doing). But in the recent past we were getting bombarded almost daily with new emails from friends and family announcing their blog births and I started getting the itch. Combine that with the occasional guilty feelings of living so far away from ANY family, that I came to the oh so profound conclusion, "Everyone else is doing it, so why don't we?"

So here's our blog. Despite my above ramblings, I am actually looking forward to writing quite often. I used to love to write in high school and now I have an excuse to say something meaningful and refine my skills. And now Grandmas can see Calli videos with ease!

Enjoy our stories of struggle, survival, silliness and strength. Happy reading!