Mystery Solved

A few times in the past month or so, I've noticed bits of something in Jack's hair. I wondered if he had a dry scalp. Or maybe he wasn't rinsing all of the bubble bath or shampoo out of his hair properly. I even asked for a professional's advice when he got his hair cut this week, but she didn't notice anything unusual.

At church this morning I glanced over at Jack and noticed bits of something in his hair that I hadn't seen while we were getting ready. Then he leaned forward, and I gasped when I saw a huge swath of bits across the back of his head.

I pointed them out to Roger. He laughed when he realized it was dust and put two and two together. Jack had crawled under our bed just before we left for church to drag one of the cats out. He's been doing that for ages--we can't leave the cats alone in our room while we are gone because they climb the curtains. But I think in the last few months Jack's grown enough that he can't do it without whacking his head up against the underside of the box spring! (And who cleans that? Well, I guess we might now!)

I tried to brush the bits out of Jack's hair with my hand, but they were stubborn. Roger and Jack slipped out of the chapel to work on it (luckily we were in the back row because we were late). I thought they were just headed to the restroom, but Roger ended up taking Jack home to vacuum his head. Whatever works!

Airing Our Dirty Laundry

Note: This post should especially appeal to people who like websites like this.

Here is a picture of the way my closet looked when I woke up this morning. I've had trouble with the front of my sock drawer falling off, and my hanging clothes need a bit more breathing space.

So I got some nifty bins for my socks and underthings that fit on the shelves (unlike the drawers that I had hoped would when I got them years ago).

Now my hanging clothes have a lot more breathing space.

Flipping my shoe shelf on its side means that a couple of pairs of shoes have to rest on their sides now, but it also means I could fit some pairs of shoes in single cubbies. Hmm. What can I do with that extra space?

And yes, that is our family's dirty laundry in the baskets.

Music Therapy

I picked up my guitar while I was waiting for Jack to come home on the school bus. It's probably been more than a year since I've played it. While I only know a few chords--even though I've owned it for a dozen years--I have fun with it. Creating music is good for my soul.

This week has been a roller coaster. Dad flew to Nairobi to help my brother, who has been hospitalized for more than a month with Guillain–Barré syndrome. He's in the ICU and keeps suffering complications and set backs. I started a new semester. I found out that our community would not be getting a grant that I had worked hard on applying for and was especially excited about. Someone I was really rooting for got the news that she may be separated from her young children for years (which sure puts the whole grant thing into perspective!).

I need to remember more often that creating music is good for my soul.

Update: Roger just told me he heard a story on the radio yesterday about a woman who donated guitars to the troops in Afghanistan. She said "Music is my passion, and I know how important it is for me to play the guitar every day. I can't imagine being deployed overseas and not having your guitar." Click here to listen to the story called "Donated Guitars Lift Spirits of U.S. Troops."

A Cabinet of Curiosities

This afternoon Jack and I went to see the special collections exhibit Roger curated at the BYU library. Click here to read the press release, which starts: "Hippo teeth, sharp daggers and a window from Hitler's bunker are just a few of the unusual artifacts that will be featured in the Harold B. Lee Library's new rotating exhibit, 'Cabinet of Curiosities,' opening Wednesday, Jan. 5, 2011, to celebrate the library's semicentennial."

Such a fun project for Roger! He did a fabulous job selecting items, writing exhibit signage and pulling it together. And if you're wondering why he included the hippo teeth, let me just ask: Have you ever actually seen hippo teeth?!

Megan Loves Bollywood

I met 40 new people today. Teaching at Utah Valley University is awesome like that.

On the first day of class, I ask my students to share one interesting bit of information about themselves. I think we're in for a rollicking good time this semester!

Megan loves Bollywood. Cory is a wedding deejay. Jimmy was voted "most likely to die laughing" in high school. Natalie is double jointed. Nadia was born in Ukraine. Cameron loves Irish sports. Sammy taught English in China last semester. Conner plays the French horn. Christopher has never had a cavity. Chandelle is an aspiring country singer. Christy once shaved her head on her brother's dare. Brooke was mute as a child and would only communicate using signs. Caitlyn is a vegetarian. Collin is a sky diver.

My new students represent 10 different states, including Hawaii and an unusually high number of southeastern states, and 5 different countries, including Taiwan and Brazil.

Jealous?

Manga

One of my former students who loves manga gave me a copy of this book to introduce me to the genre. I read it today. It was darn serious. Three angry teenage boys. Lots of trauma. Real.

I'm not sure why, but I have to work hard to follow a story when it's presented in comic strip format. And even harder when it's read back to front and right to left.

I suppose I could get used to it. But I don't think I'm going to try.

Even though I'm not a manga convert, I'm glad for the experience. I especially enjoyed translated lines like: "What's with that fro?" and "Japan's so messed up! There's no place to play ball except at school!" and "How'd that cute kid turn into ugly with attitude?"

I also learned interesting stuff in the editorial notes. For example, "takoyaki is a savory snack filled with bits of octopus." If I come across takoyaki during this year of adventure, I promise I'll try it. A little bite at least.

Outside the Inside World

I woke up this morning to the pain and comfort of the old routine. Roger went to work, I took Jack to school, and then I piddled around on this and that, avoiding the work I need to buckle down and do to prepare for a new semester. I scrubbed the bathroom counter and wondered what I'd blog about on such an ordinary day. I emptied the dishwasher. I cooked up scrambled eggs for breakfast. I made a phone call. I let the cats out to play. I got the mail. I put in a load of laundry. I ran some errands. Same, same, same.

And then suddenly I witnessed something I'd never seen in person before. I saw a man get out of jail.

As I was coming out of the main lobby of the jail after taking care of some school business there, I noticed him walking toward the parking lot wearing a short sleeve polo shirt and jeans. I thought, "Man, it's barely twenty degrees out here! Where's his coat?" And then I realized that he had just been released. The only clothes he had were the clothes he was wearing the day he lost his freedom.

His excitement was palpable, especially when he caught sight of his family coming toward him. His children were grinning wide grins as they broke into a run. I smiled to myself and headed to my car. I turned and looked back at the man and his family. They were walking with arms around one another, he in the center.

He didn't need a coat to feel warmth today.

Inside the Outside World

Today we went to the Ansel Adams: Early Works exhibition at the Kimball Art Center in Park City. A perfectly inspiring activity for a new camera owner.

Did you know that he had to choose between being a photographer and a concert pianist? That is the something new I learned today.

As we drove home through Provo Canyon at about sunset, the sky was overcast and the mountains and trees were blanketed with snow. Except for occasional tail lights, it felt like we were living in Ansel Adams' black and white world.

I'm guessing he would have stopped the car to get a better picture.

Say Cheesy!

Roger gave me a new camera for Christmas! As many of you know, I have completely depended on Roger for more than 20 years to take the pictures in our family. He's very good at it. I'm not so good. Here, for example, are the first two pictures I took with my new camera on Christmas day:

Yeah, I need some practice.

Today I sat down with the manual and learned how to use my new camera. I wanted to take a picture of the camera to include here, and told Jack it was ironic I'd have to use another camera to take that picture. He said, "Just take a picture of it in the mirror." I said, "You are brilliant!"

So here is a picture of my new camera taken with my new camera. I'll need to work on proper focus, but I did learn (1) how to turn off the automatic flash so I could snap the shot in the mirror, (2) how to download the picture to my computer, and (3) how to reverse the image so it shows up properly here.

I'm feeling optimistic about documenting many of my new adventures this year with photos. Or, more precisely, I'm feeling optical-istic!

En Francais

Thought I'd get a jump on my 2011 resolution to blog about something new (to me) or out of the ordinary (to me) every single day in 2011. Usually I will focus on just one thing, but today I have trois poules français to share.

1. Due to my general lack of enthusiasm for house cleaning, I have struggled--and failed mightily--to keep our tile shower clean in a satisfactory way. I am hopeful about every product I try, but the ones that actually do work as advertised are the most unpleasant to deal with. A couple of weeks ago I picked up this lovely solution at Target:

I keep a scrubbing sponge in that nifty little holder designed right into the bottle so it doesn't get scummy. It handles our hard water, it makes my shower smell like a spa and it's way easier to rinse off than other gritty cleansers. C'est un miracle!

2. Roger always makes me smile on Christmas with thoughtful gifts, and this one will keep me smiling as long as I can make it last:

While I love my Kindle, I truly love a real book. Especially a book about/by Julia Child, who I find vraiment fascinant.

3. We discovered the baguettes and croissants and all of the other wonderful things you can find at a real boulangerie at Eliane French Bakery in Orem. The friendly man behind the counter speaks French and assembles pastry orders on a silver tray before packing them up for customers. It is dangerously close to the UVU campus where I teach. Particulièrement dangereux!

Resolved

I've missed blogging. I blame it on facebook for making updates so quick, easy and appealing to my lazy--er, efficient--nature.

I am also itching for adventure, but I lack the kind of travel budget that could really scratch that itch in the way I'd like. I need to figure out how to have the spirit of adventure in my everyday life.

So here's what I'm going to do to address both issues. I am going to stretch myself with this commitment (yikes!): I am going to post an entry on this blog every single day in 2011 that reflects a new or out-of-the-ordinary experience I have had that day. It might be visiting some place new, meeting a new person, or learning something I didn't know before. It might represent a change in routine, a change in perspective, or a change in attitude.

Please start sending me lots of ideas. I'll be needing 365 of them!

A Boy, a Snake, and a Rat

The other night Jack's friend Cameron invited him to go rat shopping. Cameron and his family were going rat shopping to feed their boa constrictor. I would have let Jack go, but he had another obligation (and, by the way, I am proud of Jack for giving up doing something really, really cool to meet his obligation without whining).

The next night I learned from a neighbor that Cameron once showed up on her doorstep with the boa constrictor wrapped around his arm.

The following day I sat Jack down for a serious talk.

"Jack, you know that your friend Cameron is always welcome in our home, right? But you have to know that your friend Cameron with a boa constrictor wrapped around his arm is not welcome in our home."

This statement of mine didn't really come as any surprise as Jack. Roger and I have had a long-term understanding that snakes are not welcome in our home. (I choose to ignore their addendum "that you know of." I know they love me and will always respect my wishes on this point. Right?!)

Anyway, as soon as I laid down the law I saw Jack's wheels turning. I saw that gleam in his eyes. I smelled a rat.

"I'm coming up with lots of loopholes, Mom."

I'm sure.

"What if the snake is wrapped around my arm? What if Cameron is carrying the snake on a board? What if . . ."

"What if we talk about the spirit of the law?" After all, a boy who is smart enough to know about loopholes is smart enough to wrap his brain around that concept. Right?!

The Pizza Thief

The other day we had a bit of a pizza party. Since our dining room table is permanently covered with Lego and Jack and his friend took the kitchen counter, Roger decided to sit on the couch and use the coffee table.

He gets all set to eat when Doublestuff the cat jumps up on the table and starts eyeing his plate. Roger shoes him away. Doublestuff basically ignores him and settles in about a foot away. Roger starts eating. 

Then Roger notices Doublestuff's front paw inching toward his plate. The cat is not looking at the plate; in fact, the cat looks like he is actually trying to be discreet by looking away.

Roger takes another bite. Doublestuff continues to look away nonchalantly. His paw creeps closer. Roger continues to eat. The paw creeps closer. The cat is still looking away. The paw creeps closer. The paw actually slips under the edge of the plate. Roger takes another bite.

Then whoosh! Still looking away from the plate as if him not seeing it means Roger doesn't see it either, Doublestuff whips his paw out from under and aims for the pizza. 

He didn't get his prize, but we sure had a laugh. That darn cat.

Society, not socialism. Community, not communism.

Before class last night one of my students came to me with a copy of the daily paper. She pointed to an article about health care reform and told me it said that children with pre-existing conditions would no longer be barred from getting insurance. She looked me straight in the eye and said, “Is this really true?” I said that it would be soon, once the details get sorted out.  She visibly shook with relief as she told me how she had been unable to insure her six-year-old son due to his mental health problems. Her eyes were wide with hope.

So many people I know are angry and resentful, even downright fearful about health care reform. Though I reserve judgment about the specifics of the plan, I've done lot of research from a variety of sources to cut through all sorts of misinformation, and I am honestly hopeful.

What I see when I look at health care reform is an attempt to solve a serious and growing problem in a humane and pragmatic way. Will it actually solve it? Can’t imagine it will, but it’s a start.

I see a messy and imperfect product of a democratic system we cherish (and that thankfully includes an amendment process).

I see an attempt to preserve stellar private health care delivery while reversing the trend of increasing exclusion from a health insurance system that (for good and bad) has essentially become the gatekeeper of access to health care.

I see a law that, though passed without bipartisan support, is full of bipartisan substance. Two of the key components—the individual mandate and the exchange—originated with Republicans and were supported by Republicans until a Democratic majority chose to embrace them.

I see a call for citizens to step up on behalf our nation—a reminder that civilization involves responsibilities, not just rights. I see value for all of us in having a healthier population in much the same way as I see value for all of us in having an educated population.

I see more freedom to pursue career and entrepreneurial dreams instead of being chained to the wrong job for fear of losing coverage. (And maybe, someday, if the exchanges work, we'll have a system that untangles health insurance coverage and employment.)

I see more women with access to prenatal, obstetric and pediatric care that may feel freer to choose life for their children.

I see “we the people” leveraging the power of joining together and pooling our resources to spread risk and to increase access to health care, especially when we—and it could be any one of us—need it the most.

I see my vote as my willingness to participate.

I see society, not socialism. I see community, not communism.

If it helps to ensure that my student’s six-year-old son can have access to health care, I am happy to make sure that I have insurance myself. 

Snapshot

I realized that this blog may not exist in the virtual world of the Internet forever and so I spent some time today copying blog entries into a file on my laptop. My blog entries represent some of the only journaling I've done in the past few years. It would be sad if I lost them. 

Anyway, I got up to April 2007 and came across an entry called "Snapshot," in which I made note of a few details of my life at that moment. I've been meaning to get back to blogging more regularly, and thought a snapshot would be a good way to start. I make no promise, though, that this won't be a false start. 

Here goes:

Favorite moment of the week (besides when Jack's teachers told us how much they enjoyed having him in their classes at parent teacher conference): Watching Jack and his friend Brett perform a puppet show--written by Jack--at Cub Scout pack meeting. Here's his synopsis: It's about a nerd named Steve who built a hypersonic laser to "make him not a nerd" and it accidentally turns him into a piece of cheese. The last line: "Oh no! I've turned into a piece of cheese! But at least I'm not a nerd anymore. My invention is a success!"

Current mindless time waster: Playing FarmVille on Facebook. Jack got me started, but I have to confess I play more than he does now. I even talked Roger into letting me be a tenant farmer on his Facebook page so that I could have another neighbor to trade gifts with. It feeds my entrepreneurial spirit.

Book that Jack and I are currently reading together: The Single Shard by Linda Sue Park. I loved this book when I read it a few years ago and am happy Jack is old enough to appreciate it now. I will keep reading to Jack as long as he wants me to. It's one of my favorite parts of each day.

Current paying job: Teaching English 2010 at UVU. I was assigned to teach night classes this semester, which tend to have more older students in them. Class discussions are always better when there are some older students. Classes full of 18-year-old freshman tend to just stare at me.

Current church calling: Teaching the six year olds in Primary with Roger. They are cute and funny and have gotten to know us well enough now that they feel free to be rowdy in class. We prefer to take that as a good sign. 

Current daily irritant: Cats running into the pantry every time I open the door. Sheesh.

Last out-of-town trip: Roger, Jack and I spent four days in San Francisco in January. We toured a WWII cargo ship, shopped in Chinatown, spent hours in the Exploratorium while it poured rain outside, walked on the Golden Gate Bridge, and hung out on windy beaches looking for rocks and shells and getting wetter than we intended. We loved the neighborhood around our hotel, especially the pet store where we bought souvenirs for the cats, the grocery store with racks out front overflowing with fruits and vegetables, and the fabulous bakery where we ate croissants and washed them down with exceptional hot chocolate. 

Greatest success of the day: Doing three whole loads of laundry without forgetting about them. I'm embarrassed to confess just how often I put a load in, go off to do something else, then remember the wet load after I've gone to bed.

The Family Letter 2009

Christmas greetings from our house to yours!

It’s been a fairly peaceful year for us. All of our lives revolve around school these days. For a while there we were up to three different campus parking tags hanging from our rearview mirrors! Roger continued working as the communications manager for the library at BYU. Margy finished up her job at the local high school library, finished up a stint as PTA newsletter editor, and taught freshman writing at Utah Valley University both spring and fall semesters. Jack finished fourth grade with flying colors and is now thriving in fifth grade. We can’t quite believe he’s only got one more year in elementary school.

Roger and Margy got a new job at church teaching a great group of eight year olds (six boys and one girl, who holds her own quite nicely). We’ve had to dig deep into our bag of tricks to keep them engaged. Well, we aimed for keeping them engaged. Sometimes we just managed to keep them captive. Jack’s class is the complete opposite (nine girls and two boys, who both hold their own, too).

We took our apparently annual pilgrimage to Legoland and the Pacific Ocean in the spring, and then Jack and Margy took a huge, nearly six-week trip to Wisconsin and New England in the summer. Roger flew out to meet us half way through for a week. We had so much fun connecting with family and friends along the way, and only wish we could have seen everyone. Our goal was to swim every single day, regardless of weather. Jack only missed one day (thunderstorms were the one weather exception) and Margy only missed three. We swam in Lake Geneva (even when it rained and the temperature dropped into the sixties), in Nana and Gramp’s pool, in the Atlantic Ocean at four different beaches, out in the middle of Long Island Sound off a sailboat, at the Connecticut beach Margy enjoyed growing up, in Lake Sebago, and in Walden Pond. And I think we counted a dip or two in Uncle John’s hot tub. It felt very good to have our priorities straight! We also brought home all sorts of sand, rocks and shells, including two large horseshoe crabs. The whole lot of it sat baking in the sun on the front porch for a week before we dared to bring it inside to display.

Our biggest news of the year is not that we’ve all three been sucked into facebook (to varying degrees and we’d love to be your friends there if we aren’t already). No, the biggest news is the addition of two crazy kittens to our family. They are siblings, but Fluffy takes after her Siamese father and Doublestuff is mostly black like his mother with white markings, including a ring around his neck. They don’t train easily. Okay, they don’t train at all. But they are sure entertaining and they haven’t knocked down the Christmas tree yet.

We wish you the happiest of holidays and all the best this coming new year!

Love,

Roger, Margy and Jack

 

Five Ways in Which Our Cats Are Opposite

I am taking inspiration from my friend Shelley's blog, in which she outlines several ways her nearly six-month old twin girls are opposite (I'd link to her post, but it's a private blog). While Shelley has been getting to know her two little ones, we've been getting to know our two little kittens: Fluffy on the right, Doublestuff on the left (Jack, by the way, is in the middle. We've known him for years.)

Here's how the kittens differ:

• Fluffy is female and Doublestuff is male. It took a surprisingly long time (and multiple consultations with neighbors, an internet search and ultimately confirmation from the vet) for us to actually figure that out. Who knew it was so tough to identify a kitten's gender?
  
• Fluffy has a light colored coat and blue eyes. She takes after the alleged father, who is Siamese. Doublestuff has a mostly black coat and green eyes. He takes after his mother, who is completely black.
  
• Doublestuff is the one who is constantly underfoot. I have kicked the poor guy in the head and stepped on his tail more times than I can count. It's downright dangerous descending the stairs with an armful of laundry.
• Fluffy is the one who runs to the food first and will eat anything. This may be due to the fact that she was the runt of the litter.
• Doublestuff thinks he's the tough one, but Fluffy is actually tougher. Doublestuff is always the aggressor in their kitten battles, but Fluffy completely holds her own and often wins. Doublestuff is a good climber when he wants to sneak onto the kitchen counter (so against the rules and he knows it!) or when he's terrified of a dog at the vet and tries to get to safety on top of my head. Fluffy is the one who climbs for sheer adventure. My bedroom curtains have the scars to prove it.

Tagged! Seven Random Things About Me

1. If left to my own devices, I stay up later and later every night.
2. I feel better if I breathe in ocean air at least once a year.
3. In another life I’d be a songwriter or an architect. Or maybe it’s not too late?
4. I love going barefoot.
5. I dream about going to Spain.
6. The idea of getting a dog for Jack in the fall is growing on me.
7. My favorite reading genre: memoirs.

I tag Shelley W., Luann H. and Ann C. (who I think check my blog from time to time and who have blogs of their own).

Missing the Exit but (Hopefully) Making the Point

Yesterday Jack and I drove about 30 minutes north on I-15 to pick up a good friend of his for a day of fun. There are several exits we can take to get to her house. 

I missed all of them.

Jack and I were too busy having a serious conversation about civil disobedience. The subject came up because he's been watching Whale Wars on the Animal Planet channel, in which the crew of the Sea Shepherd tries to thwart the efforts of whalers. Sometimes their techniques put people in danger.

While I tried to help him understand the fine line between fighting for something worth dying for and failing to use good judgment, I was walking a fine line myself--teaching Jack to understand the consequences of our actions without squelching the budding passions of a boy who will one day be a man who believes in something worth dying for.

So I balanced my "lecture" that maybe throwing stink bombs onto the deck of a Japanese whaling ship could be misconstrued and result in the firing of deadly weapons ("But the captain didn't actually die," said Jack) with stories of my grandmother, who went to Nicaragua on a peace mission the year she turned 80, and my sister Maryann, who once took a class on how to handle being arrested at demonstrations.

And we laughed at the irony that the exit where we made our u-turn was the exit for the state prison.

I hope it was worth being late for Jack's friend.

Who Am I? Part Two

So months and months ago I posted the first in what was to be a series of blog posts pondering the question of who I am (click here for the first post). 

I'm finally getting around to exploring another answer to the question: birth order. According to Wikipedia, "birth order is often believed to have a profound and lasting effect on psychological development."

Technically I'm the second of four children. 

But here's the thing: I believe I have played the role of oldest, middle and youngest child in my family. And if there is any credibility to the birth order theory, it's no wonder I'm a little screwy sometimes!

I am nearly three years younger than my brother, the oldest child. He was a bit of a societal dropout. I was the first one to get a driver's license, the first to get a job, the first to graduate from high school, the first to leave home. I have a distinct memory of hearing my mother--in an effort to expand his self-sufficiency--offer to pay him a dollar if he'd break an egg into a pan. It was hard for me to understand why I couldn't have a dollar because I already knew how to do that. (He eventually did get a license, left home and learned how to break an egg.)

I am nearly nine years older than my next younger sister. Which meant that I was the baby of the family for all of my formative years and beyond. I didn't have to be a responsible older sibling. I didn't have anyone getting into my stuff. I didn't have to compete for attention with someone cuter than me.

But as soon as my sister was born I became a middle child. With an older brother in the throes of puberty and a needy infant, I felt an unspoken responsibility to lay low and not cause any additional stress in the family (not that I was always successful!). 

Then to top it all off, my youngest sister was born when I was fourteen and I became a second mother! I'm not complaining--we had a lot of fun together! But I do remember lots of diaper changes and babysitting.

A possible explanation for thinking I need to be all things to all people? The kind of thinking that can make a person crazy?