Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Homemade Baby Food: Easy as 1-2-3
Any time I mention the fact that I make my own baby food, people tend to be rather impressed. The truth is, I'm not so much ambitious as I am cheap. I actually don't buy organic fruits and veggies and I'm lazy enough that I don't make my own applesauce or baby cereal. With S-Boogie I did make my own cereal, but this time around I don't care. I like the nutritional assurance that comes with fortified commercial cereal, and when I can find it I'm going to buy the whole grain kind. The last time I went to the store they were out of stock. So, the baby food making. All you need is a blender, a few ice cube trays (I have some I bought just for baby food), and freezer bags. Oh, and a marker to write on the bags. It doesn't take that much time or that much money at all. For instance, the other day I bought 3 sweet potatoes. They were on sale for a dollar a pound (probably cheaper in Utah, but that's cheap for here). I took those sweet potatoes home, peeled them, cut them in chunks, and boiled them in a little water until tender. Then I used the blender to puree the chunks (in small batches), adding some of the cooking water to get it nice and smooth. Spoon the puree into ice cube trays, cover with plastic wrap, let them sit overnight, then pop out the cubes and store in a freezer bag. When you're ready to feed baby, put some cubes in a bowl, thaw in the microwave for 20 seconds, and you've got food. The preparation time was really only about half an hour (I think) and cost about a dollar, and I got 48 1-ounce portions of sweet potatoes. That bag should last for a month or two. This website is one of the best ones for finding out more info; I've also used this book, but I think the website is just as good. I like making my own food because it's cheaper, I don't have to worry about little containers and waste, it's more flexible to have food in 1 ounce portions, and I just have a bias toward homemade stuff. And now you know how to be as cool as I am.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Six months old!
Little Dude's milestones seem to be marked by unusual weather patterns. His birth was on an unseasonably cold May Sunday, and today Seattle is enjoying freezing cold temperatures and snow. Perhaps for his birthday we'll have a hurricane or something. The last few months have flown by and I find it hard to believe that we're now on the downward slope to one year old. Over the last few weeks Little Dude has really started to look and act like an older baby. He doesn't get as much floor time as he probably should, since he's kind of needy about being held and he has a little sister who likes to express her love by dropping things on him. But, when he does get down on the floor he is getting very good at rolling all over and grabbing things. Lately he's developed an obsession with grabbing anything within his reach, so I have to really be on my toes. I wore him in the snugli to a Thanksgiving potluck, and when I looked down he had grabbed a big chunk of ham off my plate and was sucking on it! Although I wouldn't let him eat the ham, Little Dude has started eating real food this month. I'm making my own baby food again, although I decided to just buy baby cereal instead of making my own this time around. Little Dude has had bananas, sweet potatoes, and pears so far, as well as oatmeal and rice cereal. He hasn't shown too much pickiness yet and seems to enjoy all food that I give him. So far he seems to be a rather jolly fellow; he loves to smile at people, and whenever his sister comes near his eyes light up and he starts cooing at her. They still don't interact a lot, but sometimes she manages to get him laughing, and then she'll laugh at him, and everyone will be having a grand old time. We're glad to have him in our family and hope he continues to give us such happy little grins.
Monday, November 27, 2006
Another thing I am grateful for
The other day my sister sent me an interesting email. She is volunteering with the Peace Corps and was describing some of the difficulties women face in her country. One of their biggest problems is ignorance about women's health issues and access to contraception and proper health care for women. If I lived there, my first birth experience probably would have killed me, and if it hadn't, my second surely would have. I have often thought that I am grateful to live in this time period because of the medical care I've received, but it was sobering to realize that many women who live on the Earth today are not as blessed as I am.
Besides the medical care issue, I am very grateful that I have access to contraception and am able to use it. This issue has been on my mind for a while; a few months ago the New York Times Magazine ran an interesting article about the fact that many evangelicals seem to be jumping on the "anti-contraception" platform that was recently reaffirmed by the Catholic church. Blanket rejection of contraception for all couples, especially married ones, really bothers me. I'm grateful to belong to a church that believes that sex is sacred and essential to the marriage relationship (apart from its function in procreation), and whose official stance is that the only people allowed to be involved in the decision of whether to use contraception or not are the couple in question and no one else.
Besides the fact that the anti-contraception thing is imposing too much control over people's personal lives, I think it actually ends up harming many families. Children have a right to be born to families where they are wanted and cherished. I know many people who have large families and really did want all those kids. I know some who probably didn't want all those kids, but love them despite that fact. But there are also plenty of kids born into situations that are less than ideal. I would love to change that fact, but I don't think that taking away birth control is going to encourage unmarried people to have sex less often. And what about women in other countries who have poor access to health care? What about women like me who have difficult birth outcomes and endanger their health every time they have a baby? I think my children would rather have less siblings and a living, healthy mother than the alternative. Many women in poorer countries would be healthier and have healthier babies if they had better access to tools to plan their families.
And that's exactly how I see contraception: it's merely a tool. There is nothing evil about a condom, a diaphragm, or even a package of birth control pills. It's all in how you use them. . God gave us the ability to act and choose for ourselves, and technology can be used for good or for ill. If giving out condoms in Africa will keep married couples from having more babies than they can support or from giving each other AIDS, I'm all for it. Even if it means that sometime people will be having sex when they probably shouldn't. Morally I believe in abstinence before marriage and fidelity within it, but I see nothing wrong with teaching and encouraging the ideal of fidelity while accepting the reality of daily life.
When I read that many critics of contraceptive use by married couples feel that it somehow inhibits their sex lives, I was surprised. For me, just the opposite is true. I feel more confident and closer to my husband knowing that I am probably not going to get pregnant before I'm physically and emotionally ready. I feel better knowing that intimate decisions, like whether to have children or not and when to have them, are ours to make for ourselves. Even if other people choose to judge, I know what choices we have made and so far I feel that God has approved them. I just hope that we can do more so that everyone in the world has the opportunity to have that kind of control over their lives.
Besides the medical care issue, I am very grateful that I have access to contraception and am able to use it. This issue has been on my mind for a while; a few months ago the New York Times Magazine ran an interesting article about the fact that many evangelicals seem to be jumping on the "anti-contraception" platform that was recently reaffirmed by the Catholic church. Blanket rejection of contraception for all couples, especially married ones, really bothers me. I'm grateful to belong to a church that believes that sex is sacred and essential to the marriage relationship (apart from its function in procreation), and whose official stance is that the only people allowed to be involved in the decision of whether to use contraception or not are the couple in question and no one else.
Besides the fact that the anti-contraception thing is imposing too much control over people's personal lives, I think it actually ends up harming many families. Children have a right to be born to families where they are wanted and cherished. I know many people who have large families and really did want all those kids. I know some who probably didn't want all those kids, but love them despite that fact. But there are also plenty of kids born into situations that are less than ideal. I would love to change that fact, but I don't think that taking away birth control is going to encourage unmarried people to have sex less often. And what about women in other countries who have poor access to health care? What about women like me who have difficult birth outcomes and endanger their health every time they have a baby? I think my children would rather have less siblings and a living, healthy mother than the alternative. Many women in poorer countries would be healthier and have healthier babies if they had better access to tools to plan their families.
And that's exactly how I see contraception: it's merely a tool. There is nothing evil about a condom, a diaphragm, or even a package of birth control pills. It's all in how you use them. . God gave us the ability to act and choose for ourselves, and technology can be used for good or for ill. If giving out condoms in Africa will keep married couples from having more babies than they can support or from giving each other AIDS, I'm all for it. Even if it means that sometime people will be having sex when they probably shouldn't. Morally I believe in abstinence before marriage and fidelity within it, but I see nothing wrong with teaching and encouraging the ideal of fidelity while accepting the reality of daily life.
When I read that many critics of contraceptive use by married couples feel that it somehow inhibits their sex lives, I was surprised. For me, just the opposite is true. I feel more confident and closer to my husband knowing that I am probably not going to get pregnant before I'm physically and emotionally ready. I feel better knowing that intimate decisions, like whether to have children or not and when to have them, are ours to make for ourselves. Even if other people choose to judge, I know what choices we have made and so far I feel that God has approved them. I just hope that we can do more so that everyone in the world has the opportunity to have that kind of control over their lives.
Friday, November 24, 2006
Coat Story
I have a new coat.
Do you have a new coat?
I have a new coat.
Yes, this morning we broke our yearly tradition of avoiding stores on the day after Thanksgiving. Master Fob had to take some shoes back to Sears and we had a little cash from the sale of his comic books, so we bought him a new watch, the kids a new diaper bag (our other one bit the dust the other day), and me a new coat. This is really only the fourth or fifth coat I've owned in my life, as far as I can remember. When I was small we lived in San Diego, and I never needed a coat. We moved to Idaho for a few years and I remember owning a puffy pink coat and groovy light blue moonboots. Then we moved back to California and I didn't wear a coat on a very regular basis. At some point during high school I acquired a dark green jacket from Land's End. When we moved to Maryland during my senior year of high school, this coat came in very handy. It accompanied me to Utah and served me well for three years of college. Along the way, however, I started to dislike it. It wasn't very cool or cute looking--I envied all the girls who had cute little wool peacoats. But I never could bring myself to get a new coat, because it seemed foolish to spend money on replacing an item that still worked just fine, no matter how ugly and unhip it was. When I left on my mission I bought myself a long black dress coat, since I assumed that would be the best thing to keep me warm during the cold Spanish winters. The coat did keep me warm, but it proved to be rather awkward for all the walking around I did. It was large and heavy, so midway through my first winter I replaced it with a cute, cheap European peacoat like all the other Spaniard girls were wearing. Never mind that I didn't wear it with thigh-high boots and a miniskirt--now I was hip, warm and comfortable. I kept my Spanish coat when I came home and continued to wear it each winter. It eventually started to wear out and got big tears in the lining. One of the pockets is completely ripped to shreds. I also realized that it wasn't very comfortable for most of the day-to-day things I do now and that I'd rather have something more parka or jacket-ish. I think I've spent the last four or five winters saying "I want to get a new coat". Once again I felt constrained by the foolishness of spending money when I had a functional coat to wear. This morning at Sears I finally moved on to a new era of coat ownership. I have a very nice, chocolate brown coat with a fuzzy white lining. It is waterproof and has a hood, so perfect for Seattle. It's not too flashy and covered with doodads, and it's lightweight enough to be comfortable for schleping babies around. More than anything, it was sixty percent off because we got there before 11 AM, so I don't have to feel guilty about the money I spent on it. I should have a chance to try it out soon, too, because the temperatures here are supposed to drop below freezing by Monday. Hopefully I'll get a few years of wear in on it before I decide that it's uncool and needs to be replaced.
*If you don't know what the first part of this post is about, you must go out and read a copy of The Happy Hocky Family. I promise that you will die laughing.
Do you have a new coat?
I have a new coat.
Yes, this morning we broke our yearly tradition of avoiding stores on the day after Thanksgiving. Master Fob had to take some shoes back to Sears and we had a little cash from the sale of his comic books, so we bought him a new watch, the kids a new diaper bag (our other one bit the dust the other day), and me a new coat. This is really only the fourth or fifth coat I've owned in my life, as far as I can remember. When I was small we lived in San Diego, and I never needed a coat. We moved to Idaho for a few years and I remember owning a puffy pink coat and groovy light blue moonboots. Then we moved back to California and I didn't wear a coat on a very regular basis. At some point during high school I acquired a dark green jacket from Land's End. When we moved to Maryland during my senior year of high school, this coat came in very handy. It accompanied me to Utah and served me well for three years of college. Along the way, however, I started to dislike it. It wasn't very cool or cute looking--I envied all the girls who had cute little wool peacoats. But I never could bring myself to get a new coat, because it seemed foolish to spend money on replacing an item that still worked just fine, no matter how ugly and unhip it was. When I left on my mission I bought myself a long black dress coat, since I assumed that would be the best thing to keep me warm during the cold Spanish winters. The coat did keep me warm, but it proved to be rather awkward for all the walking around I did. It was large and heavy, so midway through my first winter I replaced it with a cute, cheap European peacoat like all the other Spaniard girls were wearing. Never mind that I didn't wear it with thigh-high boots and a miniskirt--now I was hip, warm and comfortable. I kept my Spanish coat when I came home and continued to wear it each winter. It eventually started to wear out and got big tears in the lining. One of the pockets is completely ripped to shreds. I also realized that it wasn't very comfortable for most of the day-to-day things I do now and that I'd rather have something more parka or jacket-ish. I think I've spent the last four or five winters saying "I want to get a new coat". Once again I felt constrained by the foolishness of spending money when I had a functional coat to wear. This morning at Sears I finally moved on to a new era of coat ownership. I have a very nice, chocolate brown coat with a fuzzy white lining. It is waterproof and has a hood, so perfect for Seattle. It's not too flashy and covered with doodads, and it's lightweight enough to be comfortable for schleping babies around. More than anything, it was sixty percent off because we got there before 11 AM, so I don't have to feel guilty about the money I spent on it. I should have a chance to try it out soon, too, because the temperatures here are supposed to drop below freezing by Monday. Hopefully I'll get a few years of wear in on it before I decide that it's uncool and needs to be replaced.
*If you don't know what the first part of this post is about, you must go out and read a copy of The Happy Hocky Family. I promise that you will die laughing.
Happy Thanksgiving
Although I was feeling a bit sad about being far from family, we ended up having a very enjoyable Thanksgiving holiday this year. Master Fob had all day Wednesday off as well as Thursday, so we spent Wednesday cleaning our house, baking pie, and enjoying our new DVD set of Season Eight of the Simpsons ("Bart! Where did you get that shirt?" "I dunno, it just came out of the closet.") Yesterday we cooked up a Thanksgiving feast. Well, the plan was for Master Fob to help, but these days any two person job really means that one of the people will be in charge of supervising the children. So cooking by myself was actually a break from what I usually do all day. I felt kind of silly cooking all that food for just our little family, but it was fun and everything turned out tasty. We had turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, stuffing, marshmallow sweet potatoes, sauteed green beans, strawberry jello, rolls, and pumpkin pie. I did take a few shortcuts--the stuffing was Stove Top (I added cranberries, celery, and onion) and the rolls were frozen, not from scratch. We just bought a turkey breast rather than an entire bird, but we still have lots of leftovers. After eating dinner about 2 yesterday, we cleaned up while S-Boogie watched Dora (a show I'm beginning to hate with a passion). Then at 4 we decided that she should at least take a break in her room. I didn't expect her to nap. Well, then I went in my room to lie down with a book, and woke up a little after 6. The house was dark and everyone else was asleep too. I think that 2 hour nap was the best part of Thanksgiving for me. We couldn't wake S-Boogie up until nearly 7, so her bedtime got really out of whack last night. We ate waffles for dinner and then took a little walk outside. It was freezing cold, but we enjoyed the empty shopping center and the pretty Christmas lights on all the trees in the parking lot. Then we came home, ate pumpkin pie and headed to bed. Oh, and S-Boogie only had one accident during the entire day. I hope our Christmas is just as much fun (although I don't think I'm going to cook that much food).
Monday, November 20, 2006
5 Reasons I Love Master Fob
These are not the only five, but since today we celebrate five years of marriage I thought I'd pick that number:
1. He's an awesome daddy to our kids.
2. He works hard and makes a good impression at every job he has.
3. He always looks and smells good, even first thing in the morning.
4. He has a great sense of humor; after five years we still haven't used up all of our "your mom" jokes.
5. He supports me in whatever I want to do, whether it's going to grad school or trying out for Jeopardy! or even making chocolate chip cookies three times a week.
Happy Anniversay!
1. He's an awesome daddy to our kids.
2. He works hard and makes a good impression at every job he has.
3. He always looks and smells good, even first thing in the morning.
4. He has a great sense of humor; after five years we still haven't used up all of our "your mom" jokes.
5. He supports me in whatever I want to do, whether it's going to grad school or trying out for Jeopardy! or even making chocolate chip cookies three times a week.
Happy Anniversay!
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Things I am thankful for this week
Warm apple cake with butter sauce
Cool friends who stop by while they are in town
A working washing machine
Living in Family Housing where they have playgroups and potlucks and other fun things
Nice people at church who hold my baby
My brown corduroy skirt I got at D.I.
Two days in a row without rain
Split pea soup made with the ham bone
The day-old bakery table that has gourmet rolls for half-off
Flowers from Master Fob
Adverbs by Daniel Handler
Baby talk
Toddler giggles
Cool friends who stop by while they are in town
A working washing machine
Living in Family Housing where they have playgroups and potlucks and other fun things
Nice people at church who hold my baby
My brown corduroy skirt I got at D.I.
Two days in a row without rain
Split pea soup made with the ham bone
The day-old bakery table that has gourmet rolls for half-off
Flowers from Master Fob
Adverbs by Daniel Handler
Baby talk
Toddler giggles
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Don't ever wake a sleeping baby...
...or three-year-old. I just went in to put Little Dude down in his crib (yay, he's taking a nap). S-Boogie is actually sleeping in her bed today too. Unfortunately, she's sleeping in a poopy, leaking pull-up. I know it's leaking because she went to sleep without her pants on. So I just carefully put her pants back on to contain the mess, and she kept sleeping. Yeah, I'm a naughty mommy. But she's taking a nap and so is he, and I'll deal with the leaking diaper when she wakes up. Maybe she'll sleep until Master Fob comes home and then he can deal with it. Oh, I am truly evil.
Happiness for $2.99
I have always been a little hesitant to use air fresheners. Sometimes it can be a nice touch in a bathroom, but sometimes instead of covering up the smell you end up with a bad mix of flowers and poop. But when S-Boogie was tiny and I was looking for a nightlight for her room, I happened upon the fabulous Glade Plug-Ins with nightlight. I plugged it in next to the diaper pail and voila--happy smell and pleasant nightlight in one handy package. At some point over the last few years the air freshener migrated to the bathroom and sometimes I manage to remember to get refills for it. The other day in Target I noticed Glade's new "holiday" fragrances and decided I liked the smell of the "Glistening Snow" candle. I bought some refills, came home and plugged them in. Later that day I walked by the bathroom and stopped short. It smelled wonderful! The package states that this particular scent combines the aroma of "fresh-cut wood and warm holiday spices". It sure does. I'm a sucker for anything spicy; I love gingerbread, apple crisp, and that new Yoplait yogurt that has peaches and nutmeg. And now every time I walk by my bathroom I feel happy again. Mmm, spicy...
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
They definitely have my business
As I might have mentioned before, our apartment is only steps away from a large outdoor shopping center. Most of the stores are way out of our budget (Pottery Barn, Coach, etc.), but they have a big nice grocery store that is just a short jaunt across the parking lot. When I first shopped there I quickly realized that it is probably a little too upscale for starving students. They have a custom sushi bar in the deli section, for instance. We have ended up shopping there most of the time, however, simply for the sake of not having to take our car to go anywhere else. And since I shop with the sales and stock up on some stuff at Costco, it's really not hurting our budget much. A few weeks ago we discovered the biggest reason to shop there: in-store child care. Yes, child care at the grocery store. They have a little "kids club" where kids can hang out for up to an hour while their parents shop. I'd noticed it the first time I was there, but felt weird about using it. Then a few weeks ago I thought I'd try it. Now S-Boogie is in love with the child care lady and her vast collection of dress-up clothes, and I like being able to buy my groceries in peace. Today I finished up shopping rather quickly so I thought I'd stop off at the cafe and get a hazelnut steamer. There is a little coffee shop in the store (we are in Seattle, after all), complete with a fireplace and cozy chairs. I also discovered today that they have a free dish of pastry "samples", which turn out to be large chunks of yummy scones and danishes. I had half an orange chocolate-chip scone with my steamer today. So now I have an escape plan next time things get too crazy in here--we're going to the grocery store. S-Boogie can go play in the kids club and I'll head over to the coffee shop for hot cocoa and free pastries. I'll just have to make sure every day doesn't end up being a hot cocoa sort of day.
Monday, November 13, 2006
Baby clothes with a message
Today Little Dude is wearing a cute, warm outfit that happens to have the following message written across the front: "My Favorite Things: Basketball, Dinosaurs, and Really Fast Cars". He has a lot of clothes that proclaim things about himself, like that he's an "All Star" an "MVP" and even a "Little Lumberjack". I think it's kind of strange how we project our own ideas onto babies like that. Maybe it's because they are so mute and so neutral that we want them to start taking sides. When I went to my conference last month one of the other grad students who went with us brought her baby as well. Her little girl is just a few weeks older than Little Dude, and one day we dressed them both in jeans and matching T-shirts that said "La Vida es Sueno" (the shirts were given to all the grad students with kids by some cool professors of ours). It was funny to see people's reactions--despite the fact that the babies looked exactly the same, when told their genders the reactions were invariably things like "what a sweet little girl" and "what a big, handsome boy". The kids were the exact same size, and these were mostly women who specialize in things like gender theory and women's writing. Even though I hate gender stereotypes, I unconsciously do the same thing too. I find the sports-themed baby clothes particularly ironic, since neither Master Fob or I have anything to do with sports whatsoever. I spent ten years in Provo without ever attending a BYU football game (I did go to a few rugby matches to watch my cousins play). Sometimes I joke that we need more shirts for Little Dude that say "I love books" or "English Major in Training" or even "Future Jeopardy! Champ". But then again, we're projecting. Maybe he will grow up to own a construction company, play football, or be a lumberjack. At least if he does we can just blame his baby clothes.
Friday, November 10, 2006
I never thought poop would be so important in my life
This week we moved S-Boogie from regular diapers into pull-ups (aka "panty diapers"). We still aren't to the official potty training point, because she's realized rather quickly that she can still just pee in her pull-up and it's no different from peeing in a diaper. We're planning on doing "potty boot camp" in a few weeks when Master Fob will be home for a while and can help out. It should go a little better for all of us with Daddy here helping. I mainly switched to the pull-ups because she's been asking more often to go potty and they're easier to deal with than regular diapers. I've been trying to remember to ask her to go potty often during the day, but I haven't been very good about reminding her. We are getting in the habit of sitting on the potty before naptime though. On Tuesday she pooped in the potty for the very first time, right before naptime. Yesterday and Wednesday she simply pooped in her pull-up rather than telling me she needed to go. Today the lesson finally sunk in. She declined to go potty before her nap (another reason I like pull-ups right now is that it helps me keep the pressure off and gives her freedom to say no without consequences for a little while longer). However, after hanging out in her room for a while she came out and announced that she needed to go. She sat on the potty for a while with a book and produced a poop! It feels so wonderful to just flush the poop down the drain instead of dealing with the lingering smell in the house and all the wiping involved. The system is working! I know it won't be totally easy, but we seem to be getting off to a nice start on the road to clean dry panties.
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Ten Reasons Why I'm Not a Fashionista
1. I don't wear any jewelry besides my wedding ring. Once upon a time I wore earrings and even sometimes necklaces, but I haven't done either for years. I've always hated bracelets.
2. Those tall leather boots with big heels really scare me.
3. Actually, I don't like to wear any shoes with heels. I prefer not to wear shoes at all, so the less shoe the better.
4. I like to wear jumpers. With white cotton knee-highs underneath to keep my legs warm. I don't really like to wear shirt and skirt combos, so I'm counting down until Little Dude stops nursing so I can wear dresses to church again.
5. I hate wearing makeup and I have no idea how to put it on. I will sometimes wear some powder, mascara and lip gloss if I want to be "fancy" and distract people from looking at my zits.
6. I don't like wearing black clothes. I don't like white clothes either, because I'm always afraid of getting them dirty.
7. I hate layering clothes, so I've never gotten into the whole "wear three shirts at a time" thing.
8. I only own white cotton socks and a few pairs of tights for Sundays. No fancy socks for me.
9. Even though I'm short, I don't buy petite pants, so all of my pants drag on the ground and get dirty and frayed at the edges.
10. I don't like three-quarter sleeves, shawl collars, loud prints, fancy glittery embellishments, or anything that will call attention to myself.
2. Those tall leather boots with big heels really scare me.
3. Actually, I don't like to wear any shoes with heels. I prefer not to wear shoes at all, so the less shoe the better.
4. I like to wear jumpers. With white cotton knee-highs underneath to keep my legs warm. I don't really like to wear shirt and skirt combos, so I'm counting down until Little Dude stops nursing so I can wear dresses to church again.
5. I hate wearing makeup and I have no idea how to put it on. I will sometimes wear some powder, mascara and lip gloss if I want to be "fancy" and distract people from looking at my zits.
6. I don't like wearing black clothes. I don't like white clothes either, because I'm always afraid of getting them dirty.
7. I hate layering clothes, so I've never gotten into the whole "wear three shirts at a time" thing.
8. I only own white cotton socks and a few pairs of tights for Sundays. No fancy socks for me.
9. Even though I'm short, I don't buy petite pants, so all of my pants drag on the ground and get dirty and frayed at the edges.
10. I don't like three-quarter sleeves, shawl collars, loud prints, fancy glittery embellishments, or anything that will call attention to myself.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Book Reviews: The Cone of Memory
In the Name of Salome by Julia Alvarez
I read Alvarez's other, more famous, book In the Time of the Butterflies a few years ago, and wasn't very impressed. For whatever reason, I just didn't like it very much. I saw this one on the library shelf the other day and grabbed it because it was the only decent-looking choice and I didn't have time to look for a better one. It turns out that I really liked it. Maybe it's because I've learned more about Caribbean history and women's writing; maybe just because it's a good read. I also found the format intriguing: it alternates chapters between the life of a mother and the life of a daughter, with the daughter's chronology running backward and the mother's running forward until they meet up in the end. I liked how anecdotes were alluded to and interwoven throughout the book, creating a full picture of the generations of a family. Sometimes the names and chronology can get a bit confusing, but this seems to reflect the messiness of life and history, as well as the poetry of the novel.
Snow Falling on Cedars by David Guterson
I actually saw the film version of this novel before reading it, which in some ways spoiled the experience a little. It's an excellent film, but the novel has such beautiful writing it would have been nice to experience it without the film images already in place in my mind. It also has an intriguing composition: the narrative is centered on a trial in a small town, but keeps flashing back to earlier events in the lives of the participants. The writing is gorgeous and the characters are all well rounded. There is also a fairly strong moral statement that manages to come through subtly. This is the kind of book that you can really get absorbed in and stay up late reading. (It does have bad language and several graphic sex scenes, so if you don't like that, don't read it).
I watched the film as part of a theory class and it was supposed to demonstrate some of the ideas about memory and perception as written by Bergson (memory is like an inverted cone) and Bataille (the trigger effect). Interesting stuff.
I read Alvarez's other, more famous, book In the Time of the Butterflies a few years ago, and wasn't very impressed. For whatever reason, I just didn't like it very much. I saw this one on the library shelf the other day and grabbed it because it was the only decent-looking choice and I didn't have time to look for a better one. It turns out that I really liked it. Maybe it's because I've learned more about Caribbean history and women's writing; maybe just because it's a good read. I also found the format intriguing: it alternates chapters between the life of a mother and the life of a daughter, with the daughter's chronology running backward and the mother's running forward until they meet up in the end. I liked how anecdotes were alluded to and interwoven throughout the book, creating a full picture of the generations of a family. Sometimes the names and chronology can get a bit confusing, but this seems to reflect the messiness of life and history, as well as the poetry of the novel.
Snow Falling on Cedars by David Guterson
I actually saw the film version of this novel before reading it, which in some ways spoiled the experience a little. It's an excellent film, but the novel has such beautiful writing it would have been nice to experience it without the film images already in place in my mind. It also has an intriguing composition: the narrative is centered on a trial in a small town, but keeps flashing back to earlier events in the lives of the participants. The writing is gorgeous and the characters are all well rounded. There is also a fairly strong moral statement that manages to come through subtly. This is the kind of book that you can really get absorbed in and stay up late reading. (It does have bad language and several graphic sex scenes, so if you don't like that, don't read it).
I watched the film as part of a theory class and it was supposed to demonstrate some of the ideas about memory and perception as written by Bergson (memory is like an inverted cone) and Bataille (the trigger effect). Interesting stuff.
Monday, November 06, 2006
Surfacing
I hesitate to even say it for fear that it won't last, but lately I'm starting to feel like my brain is stabilizing a bit. I know a lot of my struggles the last few months have been due to hormones and external stressors like having a baby, moving, and dealing with all the upheaval of Master Fob's jobs and school (and my school), etc... Life seems to be evening out a little more; if nothing else, I know we'll be here for a while and so I don't have the terrible anxiety about the future that I was living with for most of this year. Little Dude is still pretty cranky and I often feel kind of trapped by his neediness, but I'm learning to plan my days better and to do a better job of self-evaluation of my thoughts and reactions. S-Boogie's behavior is still a big source of stress, but Master Fob and I are searching for solutions. Getting to bed at a reasonable hour and going walking several times a week are proving surprisingly helpful. I still haven't made it in to talk to my bishop about counseling; it's on my list, since I have a strong desire to attend the temple and I need a new recommend. So yeah. Life isn't looking so gray on the inside anymore, most days. And, if you're wondering what depression feels like, this column is fantastic. He describes watching other people like they are in a movie and he can't participate; that's how I've felt too often lately. But more and more I'm able to step in and take my part. And I'm grateful for that.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Today we're happy
Well, I watched myself on camera and I did not die. I sound a lot like my sister, I think. I also didn't look at the camera much, but it was hard to tell where to look when they were filming. I was also relieved that our apartment didn't look too much like a dank little starving student hole (it's really not that bad, but it's kind of small and brown). Overall, I thought both segments were well done and that it was good coverage of this issue. I'm sure the Evergreen bit will be a little controversial--their position is hotly debated among gay Mormons. I like that she ended with words from Dr. Beckstead about how the important thing is to have realistic expectations going into a relationship and to explore all options.
One area of emphasis that I didn't like particularly was the fact that people keep focusing on the fact that we "struggle sometimes with intimacy". Um, which married couples out there don't? Sexual intimacy is a hard thing for partners to agree on and I really don't think that we are that different from other couples. The line about how I like kissing more than he does comes from Mr. Fob's essay, and he had a straight friend who read that point out that he and his wife are often on different pages when it comes to that too. We do have sex, sometimes not as often as one or the other of us would like, but we talk frequently about that aspect of our relationship and try to respect each other's feeling as much as we can. I just don't usually feel comfortable discussing that aspect of our relationship in detail because I feel like it's sacred and private.
The other emphasis that makes me a little uncomfortable is that people keep focusing on how we "make our marriage work". Again, who doesn't? Relationships don't just magically happen, they take work. Perhaps some of our issues and challenges aren't the same as those of other people, but I don't think we're forcing things any more than other people.
Overall, I do want to say that I feel good about the whole experience. I kind of wish I'd given her the contact info for the Straight Spouse Network so they could put that on the website, but hopefully the resources given will help people out. I don't know if we'll be on camera again any time in the future, but I think this was a positive experience for us. I hope it was for everyone who watched it.
One area of emphasis that I didn't like particularly was the fact that people keep focusing on the fact that we "struggle sometimes with intimacy". Um, which married couples out there don't? Sexual intimacy is a hard thing for partners to agree on and I really don't think that we are that different from other couples. The line about how I like kissing more than he does comes from Mr. Fob's essay, and he had a straight friend who read that point out that he and his wife are often on different pages when it comes to that too. We do have sex, sometimes not as often as one or the other of us would like, but we talk frequently about that aspect of our relationship and try to respect each other's feeling as much as we can. I just don't usually feel comfortable discussing that aspect of our relationship in detail because I feel like it's sacred and private.
The other emphasis that makes me a little uncomfortable is that people keep focusing on how we "make our marriage work". Again, who doesn't? Relationships don't just magically happen, they take work. Perhaps some of our issues and challenges aren't the same as those of other people, but I don't think we're forcing things any more than other people.
Overall, I do want to say that I feel good about the whole experience. I kind of wish I'd given her the contact info for the Straight Spouse Network so they could put that on the website, but hopefully the resources given will help people out. I don't know if we'll be on camera again any time in the future, but I think this was a positive experience for us. I hope it was for everyone who watched it.
15 more minutes of fame
Get your Tivo or your VCR ready: tomorrow night we're going to be on Fox 13 News at 9. I'm really getting nervous about this. We haven't seen the finished segment, but the taping did go well. The reporter who interviewed us was really nice and seemed genuinely interested in our story. I'm pretty sure it will be a positive segment, especially since she mentioned that already interviewed a man who tried marriage and didn't have it work out well (our section is part of a series about mixed-orientation marriages). I just hope that I didn't mumble too much or that I don't sound totally dopey. I sometimes feel a little uncomfortable because I don't think we have as much drama as people would like us to have. It's a pretty basic story; most of the turmoil has happened on the inside. But, I think that's also part of our point: we're normal people living fairly normal lives. I just hope that comes across on the television.
Friday, November 03, 2006
Happy Birthday Master Fob!
So I feel a little sad that Absent-minded Secretary wrote a better post about my husband than I did, but that doesn't mean I don't love him. He's pretty spectacular. Like for instance, I'm about to head out the door for my morning walk, and even though I know he'd rather sleep in, he's taking care of the other people in our house who have yet to learn the joys of sleeping past 7 AM. Thanks dear! I love you--I'll let you sleep in tomorrow. Happy, Happy Birthday!
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
The Bitter and the Sweet
My mom still likes chuckle about the fact that when I was four I announced one day "I don't ever want to get married and have babies--it's too much work!". Well, here I am, married and having babies, and it is a lot of work. There are a lot of days where I step back and can't believe that this is my life. I never really thought much about getting married while I was growing up. I found my journal from junior high, and in it I mused often about living alone on a remote island in Alaska studying whale migration patterns. I never babysat as a teenager and generally didn't like little kids very much. The honest truth is that I still only really like kids in small doses and am not a big fan of them, especially the ones who aren't related to me. Matrimony and maternalness weren't really part of my dreams as a youth. I think that part of this aversion to marriage was a defensive strategy; I've known since I was quite young that I'm not the type of person most guys desire. Too geeky, too unconcerned with my appearance, too clueless and too honest to flirt, too independent to see a need for guy in the first place. Not only do I not want to play the game, I have no idea what the rules even are or why we are playing it.
I also went to a high school where little dating took place. I know that people went to parties and hooked up and had sex, but that wasn't what I wanted to do. There were very few Mormon boys my age at school and I was too scared to date anyone else. I just hung around with my friends from the Knowledge Bowl team and the Future Business Leaders of America club. We had a lot of fun, but none of it involved boys or dating. I went on a grand total of three dates in high school. The first two were my junior year: I asked a boy I knew from my ward to go to the prom with me. I asked him in January just to be certain he would be free. In March I thought it would be a good idea to go on at least one other date together before the prom, so I called him up and we went to the movies together. My other date was my senior year after I moved to another state. That guy brought along his little brother to the movies with us. That was the first, and pretty much only, time a guy asked me on a date.
When I got to BYU I was terrified because everyone had told me about the predatory RMs that married freshman girls. Luckily I lived in Heritage Halls and there were only freshman boys in my ward. And I soon found out that, even at BYU, I was still not the type of girl that guys asked out on dates. My first semester I had a roommate whose boyfriend had a roommate that was just as geeky as I was, so they decided to set us up. We went on a few awkward group dates and got to the point of holding hands before I left for Christmas break. After we got back to school I never called him and he never called me. I think we were both relieved to never hear from each other again. My second semester of my freshman year I kind of dated a boy I knew from the College Bowl team (yep, I still hung out with the geeks in college). He lived in DT, so we walked home from practices in the Maeser building together. We had a lot of good times together and he was (and I'm sure still is) a very sweet person. Instead of buying me flowers or chocolates, he bought me a copy of Pride and Prejudice. My roommates all thought he was cool, and I think they were all frustrated that we never got anywhere besides one awkward hug before he left on his mission. We wrote each other during our missions, but after I got back to Provo several years later we never met up and I started dating Master Fob instead.
For the two years before my mission I lived in the same off-campus apartment. My dating life was still pretty pathetic. I don't think anyone ever asked me out, as far as I can remember. I would develop crushes on guys and occasionally ask them out or cook for them, but I still kept my reputation as the nerdy girl with the hot sister. (By the way, my sister is just a nerd in a hot disguise. She's smarter than I am and ten times as gorgeous). The summer after my junior year I decided to go on a mission and ended up in Spain. I endeared myself to the elders by kicking some of them in the shins (well, just one of them), beating them at belching contests, and occasionally making cinnamon rolls for them. I was too into the rules to be one of the "cool" missionaries, but I made a lot of friends, worked hard, and enjoyed my mission a lot. Now that I'm home I don't care so much that I wasn't "cool" and feel a little embarrassed that I ever worried about it.
For some reason the few months after I got home from my mission were suddenly filled with male attention. I was shocked; I still had no plans to get married. I wanted to finish school and either get a good job or go on to graduate school. I lived at home in Maryland for about three months before I went back to BYU. Shortly after I got home I emailed an elder I had served together with for a number of months back in Spain. I also tried to get in touch with a bunch of other people, but this particular elder emailed me right back. We began a regular correspondence that expanded into phone calls. At the same time I was also fielding phone calls and emails from my freshman year guy, a random Nicaraguan I'd met at a singles dance, the Nicaraguan's Peruvian friend, and a fellow missionary's ex-boyfriend who lived in DC. I went on a few dates in DC with the ex-boyfriend, and he was a very nice guy but "just not that into me". I also managed to shake off the Nicaraguan and his friends; I have nothing against Hispanic men, just the ones who invite me to go meet grandma in Managua after the second phone call. I looked forward to getting back to Provo where as a 23-year-old returned missionary I would now be even more undesirable to the male population.
While I was attempting to settle into my new home in Provo my very first day back in town I heard a knock at the door. It was my former district leader and phone buddy, although nearly unrecognizable in baggy red pants and spiky bleached hair. He took me out for Jamba Juice that night and showed up the next morning to walk me to the class we had together. The next day also happened to be my birthday, so he brought me flowers, a book, and an invitation to lunch together. I was astounded by the attention--after so many years of total rejection by men, here was one who was obviously crazy about me. Master Fob will tell you that I spent a while trying to resist the pace of our relationship. I wanted to go a little more slowly, but it didn't really happen. Those months of emails and phone calls had helped us get to know each other as friends, and now we both wanted to be more than that. As much as we tried to avoid it, the topic of marriage kept coming up. And then one night we went to the temple together and after the session he shared his biggest secret with me. I've already blogged about that. The truth is, we didn't discuss it too much after that. We did come close to breaking up several times before we got married. I remember one time after we'd been discussing things, he left and I knew he didn't want to come back. I was really conflicted because by that point I did want to get married. Part of it was the social inertia--the wedding plans were very much underway, but most of it was the fact that I loved him very much and wanted to be together. At the same time, I knew how serious it was to get married when you weren't ready and that marriage is a big decision. I didn't need to get married at that point in my life, but if I wanted to, it needed to be a wholehearted endeavor on the part of both people. That night I cried and prayed a lot. I finally felt some peace and knew that whatever decision Master Fob made, I would be OK. I was actually pretty sure he was going to come back the next day and want to postpone or even cancel the wedding. I was fine with that decision. It wasn't what I wanted, but I wasn't going to force him into anything. The next day he was happy, calm, and excited about getting married. From that point on we didn't have any doubts or difficulties (well, at least not before the wedding). On our wedding day I mainly remember feeling happy, calm, and excited. I thought I'd be nervous or anxious about getting married, but I wasn't at all. I didn't regret my decision to get married.
I still don't regret or question my decision to get married when I did or to the person I did. I do question most of my other decisions, like going to grad school and having kids. The funny thing is, though, sometimes I feel guilty about being married and having kids. Maybe it's because I know a lot of people who are still single or who are unable to have kids. I feel weird around them because I have the things they want but can't have, while I never thought I wanted them in the first place. It does seem a little unfair that someone who never seemed marriageable has become so domesticated while so many of my eminently more qualified friends (and my gorgeous, smart sister) are pining away in singleness. I do envy the singles sometimes; I wish I could move away to Morocco or even go out to eat on a regular basis. But I also don't have any regrets about the life I chose. It's a happy life. A fulfilled life. All lives involve choices, and while each choices opens some possibilities, it closes others. In some respects my choices have closed things off for me. But more than anything, they've opened more doors than I ever thought they would. It's now been nearly five years since we drove away from the Salt Lake Temple together, after we each said "yes" to God that we would give ourselves wholly to our partner. I don't think I knew then what kind of adventures we would have together. I still don't know what adventures we're going to have in the future. I'm still glad I chose such a wonderful person to share the ride with, and I'm grateful he chose me.
I also went to a high school where little dating took place. I know that people went to parties and hooked up and had sex, but that wasn't what I wanted to do. There were very few Mormon boys my age at school and I was too scared to date anyone else. I just hung around with my friends from the Knowledge Bowl team and the Future Business Leaders of America club. We had a lot of fun, but none of it involved boys or dating. I went on a grand total of three dates in high school. The first two were my junior year: I asked a boy I knew from my ward to go to the prom with me. I asked him in January just to be certain he would be free. In March I thought it would be a good idea to go on at least one other date together before the prom, so I called him up and we went to the movies together. My other date was my senior year after I moved to another state. That guy brought along his little brother to the movies with us. That was the first, and pretty much only, time a guy asked me on a date.
When I got to BYU I was terrified because everyone had told me about the predatory RMs that married freshman girls. Luckily I lived in Heritage Halls and there were only freshman boys in my ward. And I soon found out that, even at BYU, I was still not the type of girl that guys asked out on dates. My first semester I had a roommate whose boyfriend had a roommate that was just as geeky as I was, so they decided to set us up. We went on a few awkward group dates and got to the point of holding hands before I left for Christmas break. After we got back to school I never called him and he never called me. I think we were both relieved to never hear from each other again. My second semester of my freshman year I kind of dated a boy I knew from the College Bowl team (yep, I still hung out with the geeks in college). He lived in DT, so we walked home from practices in the Maeser building together. We had a lot of good times together and he was (and I'm sure still is) a very sweet person. Instead of buying me flowers or chocolates, he bought me a copy of Pride and Prejudice. My roommates all thought he was cool, and I think they were all frustrated that we never got anywhere besides one awkward hug before he left on his mission. We wrote each other during our missions, but after I got back to Provo several years later we never met up and I started dating Master Fob instead.
For the two years before my mission I lived in the same off-campus apartment. My dating life was still pretty pathetic. I don't think anyone ever asked me out, as far as I can remember. I would develop crushes on guys and occasionally ask them out or cook for them, but I still kept my reputation as the nerdy girl with the hot sister. (By the way, my sister is just a nerd in a hot disguise. She's smarter than I am and ten times as gorgeous). The summer after my junior year I decided to go on a mission and ended up in Spain. I endeared myself to the elders by kicking some of them in the shins (well, just one of them), beating them at belching contests, and occasionally making cinnamon rolls for them. I was too into the rules to be one of the "cool" missionaries, but I made a lot of friends, worked hard, and enjoyed my mission a lot. Now that I'm home I don't care so much that I wasn't "cool" and feel a little embarrassed that I ever worried about it.
For some reason the few months after I got home from my mission were suddenly filled with male attention. I was shocked; I still had no plans to get married. I wanted to finish school and either get a good job or go on to graduate school. I lived at home in Maryland for about three months before I went back to BYU. Shortly after I got home I emailed an elder I had served together with for a number of months back in Spain. I also tried to get in touch with a bunch of other people, but this particular elder emailed me right back. We began a regular correspondence that expanded into phone calls. At the same time I was also fielding phone calls and emails from my freshman year guy, a random Nicaraguan I'd met at a singles dance, the Nicaraguan's Peruvian friend, and a fellow missionary's ex-boyfriend who lived in DC. I went on a few dates in DC with the ex-boyfriend, and he was a very nice guy but "just not that into me". I also managed to shake off the Nicaraguan and his friends; I have nothing against Hispanic men, just the ones who invite me to go meet grandma in Managua after the second phone call. I looked forward to getting back to Provo where as a 23-year-old returned missionary I would now be even more undesirable to the male population.
While I was attempting to settle into my new home in Provo my very first day back in town I heard a knock at the door. It was my former district leader and phone buddy, although nearly unrecognizable in baggy red pants and spiky bleached hair. He took me out for Jamba Juice that night and showed up the next morning to walk me to the class we had together. The next day also happened to be my birthday, so he brought me flowers, a book, and an invitation to lunch together. I was astounded by the attention--after so many years of total rejection by men, here was one who was obviously crazy about me. Master Fob will tell you that I spent a while trying to resist the pace of our relationship. I wanted to go a little more slowly, but it didn't really happen. Those months of emails and phone calls had helped us get to know each other as friends, and now we both wanted to be more than that. As much as we tried to avoid it, the topic of marriage kept coming up. And then one night we went to the temple together and after the session he shared his biggest secret with me. I've already blogged about that. The truth is, we didn't discuss it too much after that. We did come close to breaking up several times before we got married. I remember one time after we'd been discussing things, he left and I knew he didn't want to come back. I was really conflicted because by that point I did want to get married. Part of it was the social inertia--the wedding plans were very much underway, but most of it was the fact that I loved him very much and wanted to be together. At the same time, I knew how serious it was to get married when you weren't ready and that marriage is a big decision. I didn't need to get married at that point in my life, but if I wanted to, it needed to be a wholehearted endeavor on the part of both people. That night I cried and prayed a lot. I finally felt some peace and knew that whatever decision Master Fob made, I would be OK. I was actually pretty sure he was going to come back the next day and want to postpone or even cancel the wedding. I was fine with that decision. It wasn't what I wanted, but I wasn't going to force him into anything. The next day he was happy, calm, and excited about getting married. From that point on we didn't have any doubts or difficulties (well, at least not before the wedding). On our wedding day I mainly remember feeling happy, calm, and excited. I thought I'd be nervous or anxious about getting married, but I wasn't at all. I didn't regret my decision to get married.
I still don't regret or question my decision to get married when I did or to the person I did. I do question most of my other decisions, like going to grad school and having kids. The funny thing is, though, sometimes I feel guilty about being married and having kids. Maybe it's because I know a lot of people who are still single or who are unable to have kids. I feel weird around them because I have the things they want but can't have, while I never thought I wanted them in the first place. It does seem a little unfair that someone who never seemed marriageable has become so domesticated while so many of my eminently more qualified friends (and my gorgeous, smart sister) are pining away in singleness. I do envy the singles sometimes; I wish I could move away to Morocco or even go out to eat on a regular basis. But I also don't have any regrets about the life I chose. It's a happy life. A fulfilled life. All lives involve choices, and while each choices opens some possibilities, it closes others. In some respects my choices have closed things off for me. But more than anything, they've opened more doors than I ever thought they would. It's now been nearly five years since we drove away from the Salt Lake Temple together, after we each said "yes" to God that we would give ourselves wholly to our partner. I don't think I knew then what kind of adventures we would have together. I still don't know what adventures we're going to have in the future. I'm still glad I chose such a wonderful person to share the ride with, and I'm grateful he chose me.
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