And they will be my people

I did it. I finally read the Old Testament! . . . okay, some of it didn't have the best reading comprehension, like Job or Jeremiah. And I just skimmed 2 Chronicles long enough to convince myself that the name Nephi would have fit in with all the other biblical names. (Oh hey . . . did you know Ethan is a name in the Bible? I never knew!)

But yes. I finally read it. And to be honest, it's kind of okay that I waited to read it until I was a little older. I mean, I had read some for seminary and Sunday School and I had read Genesis a few times, but a lot of it would have gone over my head had I not been married, pregnant, and/or lactating. Also, the way I read it was 2 chapters on weekdays, 3 chapters on Saturday, and 5 on Sunday. If you do that, I would recommend reading the prophets and Psalms on the weekends otherwise you just get tired of the same old stuff.

Anyway, even though it was difficult to get through, I still learned a lot. Here's a smattering:

• The Old Testament prophets used lots and lots of imagery. Lots of it. I mean, a way lot. Thing is, they didn't have a lot of stuff to choose from, so their images were usually from nature or from the human body. For instance, something undesirable or disgusting was menstruous. And Jeremiah 30:6 made me laugh out loud. Oldest joke in the book, huh? (Yeah, I know I'm not mature.)
• Some of the imagery was powerful to me having been through labor and currently nursing a baby. Can a woman forget her sucking child? Goodness gracious no. Once my milk comes in, all I can think about is feeding my baby. Having this experience made Isaiah 49 much more powerful to me. Come to think of it, that's probably why they used the human body for so much imagery -- it's something we are all familiar with.
• Another symbol they used a lot was that of a marriage to describe the covenant between God and Israel. I grew a little tired of Israel being described the flighty wife because it seems that men are more likely to be flighty. But that's the Old Testament for ya.
• Politics. The Old Testament had a lot more politics than the Book of Mormon. I mean, it makes sense -- there were a lot more civilizations there than just Nephites and Lamanites. It was hard keeping track of everyone, even coming in with a pretty good understanding of Assyria, Babylon, and Persia. You throw Moabites and Ammonites and Philistines and Edomites and Egyptians and Syrians in as well and it takes a lot of work to keep track of them all. But I felt like it was usually worth the trouble to know who Pekah and Remaliah and all these people were and what they were up to because then the symbolism was made more clear.
• Idolatry! Oh my goodness there was so much idolatry! Basically ever since Moses led the children of Israel to the promised land, they got sucked in by every practice of their neighbors. It was really disheartening. It led to the destruction of both the Northern Kingdom and Southern Kingdom. I had never realized before why exactly Jerusalem had been destroyed and why Lehi had to flee. It was idol worship! It was sexual perversions and fertility rites and murder and human sacrifice and Baal and Ashteroth and groves and the whole nine yards.
• But what was even more disheartening was when I realized how easily we get sucked into idol worship, too. We worship the almighty dollar and food and Apple products and sports and celebrities and smart devices instead of God. Really. (Complete with the sexual perversions, I hate to add.) Reading the Old Testament made me realize how often we (even in the Church) disobey the first commandment to have no other gods.
• I was surprised by how patient God seemed throughout the Old Testament. The Israelites turned their backs on Him as soon as something interesting came along, but He withheld judgment as long as possible. Then it seemed pretty clear that He just let other wicked people punish them, but He didn't smite them himself. It taught me that blessings we enjoy are due to God actively protecting us, and that without His help we'd be scrambling.
• The idea of the covenant was drilled into my head over and over and over and over over the 1184 pages of the Old Testament (perhaps repetition is a good teacher after all). The whole book teaches about the Abrahamic Covenant -- "I will be their God, and they will be my people." (Zechariah 13: 9) We learn what it means that "I will be their God" -- that he will make the rain come in a dry land, protect a tiny, backwards culture from their neighbors, and make His children strong (Isaiah 49:25). And we learn that He always considers them His people, even after their infidelity (Hosea 2).
• In short, the Old Testament is about the Atonement. It is about God rescuing us after we willfully disobey and break the covenants. It is about returning to the source of life, the fountain of living waters, the One who travailed for our souls who will feed us with the milk of everlasting life. 

Columbus in . . . September

So, if you've read this blog a little bit, you've probably noticed I don't do a very good job on keeping up with the stuff we actually do. Just old stories and videos of Joseph and rambling.

But I've been feeling guilty for leaving this blog post unwritten for more than three months. I've had no excuse. None at all. So here it is. (clears throat)

We went to visit the Toblers in Columbus for Labor Day. And it was awesome. And Megan did an awesome job documenting it so I'll just redirect you there.

Eh, and here's some pictures I took.

Fun sidewalks

We loved Columbus!

Techno-baby

The headless hacker

Now, I know what the research says about kids and screens. It's been around since I was a kid (as if we needed another reason not to watch Teletubbies [cute as the baby  in the sun was]). We all know that kids under the age of three shouldn't look at screens.

But whatever. Joseph loves my laptop.

g8n yt  gfcgv gjfzdfcv  i,iuigu6fgyyhgnb nb h     hniy nb8h v  h bnm99oijk  mcjn m m  jk;ghc6gv gj  gvv6

only nearly headless, I suppose.

See what I mean?

I have mixed feelings about it. I mean, on one hand, it's hilarious what kind of changes he can make, but there's an alarm that goes off saying "bad mom bad mom babies shouldn't look at screens."  But I figure, we do a lot of other stuff, like reading stories, singing songs, playing piano, playing outside, folding laundry, tickle torture, and playing with friends, so a little bit of time with my laptop is okay. And if it's not, oh well.

Anyway, back to Joseph and my laptop. They have so much fun together. Here are a few of my favorite tricks:
-He loves seeing pictures of people on the screen. I think skype and video chat have really reinforced that. What this means is whenever he sees a picture (especially of himself) he gets excited and lunges toward it. (Incidentally, I'm wondering how confused he'll be about movies being real since they show up on the same laptop screen as grandmas.)
-He likes to press the keys. And pull them, come to think of it. I've had to stick a few numbers back on. But if you press enough keys, you can get some really random ones. Special characters and whatnot. One time while in Microsoft Word he opened equation editor and the next thing we knew he had informed us that A=pi r^2.
-Another popular key combination is ctrl v. I find urls, printscreens, and pictures of Joseph pasted throughout the document I'm working on.
-Even though I only have a laptop mouse that I use with my finger, he's pretty good at it. Especially picking things from the right-click menu. To illustrate: He opened up a folder with pictures from graduation, selected one, and set it as my desktop background. Yeah.
-and while he was at it, he renamed an icon on my desktop "jmo 9ihumn8hmkn878uh   mnmn  mikh    ftfht bgv5h6f65gfe56dc vnh gctyctbf vhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhvb6h tf  z czs vcf vge54d55frt3" and I actually thought it was rather fitting.
-my favorite, though, is when I decide that he's had enough fun and turn the monitor off. Suddenly the screen turns into a mirror! He starts smiling and laughing at the cute baby, lunges toward hpesoJ, and the next thing we know he's pressed a key and turned the display back on.

But who wouldn't want to get close to this little guy?

Past Family Newsletters

After I announced on Facebook that I was planning on doing a family newsletter, I realized I didn't know what to say.

Deep down, I know it's super easy. Say this: Kyra got a master's. Kevin got a master's. Joseph was born. Kevin started his PhD at Michigan. We've visited a few new places (Kansas City Temple, Bloomington, Indiana, Columbus, and Detroit). And then commence with a hundred or so pictures of the most beautiful baby in the universe.

But the overachiever in me wants something more interesting. Problem is, my interesting is spread all over the year on Facebook and in my blog. So I kind of want to say, "Just reread my blog. Skip the long boring ones. Go through all the albums of Joseph on Facebook. And while you're at it, go ahead and like some old funny statuses, because I'm proud of them."

Eh, we'll see what ends up happening. In the meantime . . . I asked my mom last night what they put in family newsletters. She responded with the 2000, 2002, 2004, and 2006 editions. Some stuff made me laugh, so I'm going to share it here.

From 2000:
[Spencer] is very excited about his developing language skills and loves to play, “Repeat what I said and if you don’t figure it out I’ll just say it louder until you do.”

Jennie played soccer.  Her coach said there were enough aggressive and competitive people in the world and it was nice to have kids holding hands and giving hugs on the field.

From 2002:
If you come to our house, it’s assumed you’re an audience -- the girls enjoy planning and putting on “improv nights” and  “cousin performances” (Yes, yes we did. I feel so bad for my uncles.)

From 2004:
[Mom] even “volunteered” to coach Spencer’s soccer team.

Kaylie reached some preteen milestones: Young Women’s camp, contacts, and braces.  (Okay, this one isn't that funny, but the image that entered my mind as I read it was this [sorry Kaylie . . . I can take this down if you want]): 

From 2006:
We briefly went down to Capitol Reef and Grand Staircase Escalante for a few days of hiking.  It was wonderful and we were so proud of the kids.  In Peekaboo Canyon (a slot canyon), Spencer kept shouting, “This is so awesome!”  We got caught in a sudden thunderstorm and got to see how flash floods are created.  As we were hiking up to Hickman Bridge on a bunch of stone steps, Kiana asked if that was the “Grand Staircase.” (maybe you would have had to have been there to find it funny.)

[Kyra]'s a national merit semi-finalist, National Honor Society chapter president, science Sterling Scholar, Academic Olympiad team captain, and was 1st attendant for Senior Ball royalty.  (So the thing that makes me laugh to myself is that the thing I am still most proud of is the last one on that list. It feels good having won one popularity contest in my life.)

Currently [Mom] serves in Young Women as secretary, camp director, music specialist, and assistant Beehive advisor. (Okay, this one is funny because at the time my dad was a bishop in a student ward, and they still kept piling callings on my mom [she failed to mention choir president as another calling, or maybe they had released from that by this point]. One time she and I were on a walk and one of our neighbors rolled down the window of her car to yell, "Are you going to the church to get some more callings?" Good times.)

Hmmm . . . I didn't find anything funny that mentioned Leslie. Guess you'll have to send more, Mom!

Next stop, Vienna Boys' Choir

For years, I dreaded the day that Spencer's voice would change. He had such a clear, perfect soprano voice and it made me sad to think that he would be tall and skinny and deep-voiced.

Well, it happened.

Luckily, I've got another boy soprano to sing to me for at least a few more years:

Christmas songs

I have like 5 recent posts still in draft form which I ought to publish, but those all seem long and I wanted something to the point. The sooner I publish, the sooner Shel Silverstein will disappear from the top of my blog. Such a scary guy.

On Saturday, we had a Relief Society Christmas workshop. After the luncheon, they put together a little program which ended with us singing "Joy to the World." As I played it, I noticed that most people knew the first verse pretty well. But after the "rejoice rejoice" part of the 2nd verse, things fell apart. 1/3 of the women sang the 2nd verse, 1/3 sang the 4th verse, and 1/3 just kind of moved their mouths to the melody. It sounded great.

Then came the 3rd verse. Great, I thought. We all know this one starts out "No more will sin . . ." and then people should be able to figure it out from there. Nope. They didn't even start out there. It took just a few notes before the only sound was coming from the piano. That and people shouting, "We don't know this song! Stop playing!" Yeah. So I ended playing as gracefully as I could and scampered back to my seat, laughing.

Isn't it funny? We all proclaim how much we love Christmas songs, yet how many of us actually know more than one verse of the popular ones? I doubt I do. Maybe that will be a goal of mine this Christmas -- know all the words of at least half the Christmas hymns in the hymnbook. Wish me luck!

Shel Silverstein

I've been feeling rather alphabetical lately. Perhaps it's because Kevin's 26th birthday is coming up, and there are 26 letters in the alphabet (incidentally, does anyone know any alphabet-themed games which are age-appropriate for 26-year-olds?). Perhaps it's because I've been trying to find picture books to add to our library using this link from my sister-in-law Margaret, and the first page is all alphabet books (though I didn't see one of my favorites on there . . . does anyone remember the alphabet book where animals are the main characters and a carpenter makes all the letters in the school playground, but he runs out of lumber and takes apart his house for the final letters?).

At any rate, the alphabet has been on my mind to the extent that something that should have been eternally suppressed has now re-entered my memory.

Uncle Shelby's ABZ's.

Why did we own that book? Why was it with our other picture books? There were so many problems with that book. First of all, it's ABC not ABZ. He skipped letters and mixed them up, so it wasn't even educational. And then what the letters stood for . . . there was L for Lye. I learned that if you dumped lye down the toilet and told your mom you ate it all, then they would pump your stomach and you could get a free lollipop. I learned about Ernie who lives in the ceiling and loves it when you throw eggs to him. I learned that V was for voodoo doll, and that you should never make an Uncle Shelby voodoo doll.

If I had been an adult when I had first read this, I probably would have found it hilarious. Instead it just cements my fear of Shel Silverstein.

Yes, it gets worse. Worse than Uncle Shelby's ABZs.

The Giving Tree.

Oh, sure, the story itself wasn't all that scary, if you don't find extortion of innocent trees by ugly boys too scary. I'm sure there was a good message in there, maybe.

But what I remember most about the book is still the back cover. Every time I think about it, the theme from Psycho starts playing in my mind.

See what I mean? Uncle Shelby is scary beyond all reason! No wonder that in one of those Diary of a Wimpy Kid books, he says that his parents were able to scare him into staying in bed at night, otherwise the man from the back cover of the Giving Tree would get him. That would have worked for me, too.

Every time I read the book, I did my best not to ever see the back cover. But sometimes when putting the book away I would forget and then

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!

I think any psychiatric problems I may have in the future can probably be traced back to this man. Him or Roald Dahl. Don't get me started on him, too.

Step Aside, Mozart!

. . . or whatever genius Asian kid is currently composing music. They ain't got nothing on Joseph! Listen to his post-modern rendition of "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star":

Okay, so this post is just going to be videos of Joseph. In other words, if your last name or maiden name is not Moon or Rytting, you might be incredibly bored by these. Then again, I'm sure they'll lower your blood pressure, so you should watch them anyway.

This video is from early October and shows the kind of relationship Kevin and Joseph have.

And more stubble attacks about two weeks later.

This is what we did during Conference. Besides listening, of course.

And this is why we are grateful for the Conference Ensign.

You all should watch this one. Because it is amazing. It just is.

I love finding little fingerprints on the mirror.

Sometimes, Joseph wakes up from a nap cooing. It's a pretty fun sound, even if it seems premature.

Once upon a time, Leslie was told by an eye doctor to not wear contacts for a month. Then she came to Michigan, and this is what happened. (Note: I rewatched this and it's not as action-filled as I thought it was. But you can guess what probably happened after I turned off the camera.)

Hooray for rice cereal! It looks like he likes bowls more than what goes in them.

And last but not least, I conducted an interview with him. Didn't really get much out of him. I don't know what that says about my interviewing skills.

If you actually watched all of those, I am very impressed. I hope that your blood pressure dropped, endorphins flooded your brain, and your stock just went up. If you didn't watch them, then you're probably in really good company, and I wish all of those things for you, too.

Eh, here's one more. Just because it's short and to the point.

We sure love our Joseph boy!

Sad day

Sorry I never made it to 100 things I was grateful for. I probably could have if I had thought a bit harder, but with food to eat and company to entertain/boss around (thanks Leslie), it just never happened.

Besides, there's something more serious I need to blog about.

I went grocery shopping today. Since Kevin's birthday is coming up, I decided to get some ice cream. I saw some that seemed pretty cheap and thought, "Score!" Then I saw that it just said "frozen dairy dessert" and knew enough to not get it. So I felt very proud of myself having evaded nasty fake ice cream. I grabbed the bucket underneath it and didn't think twice.

You guys. It wasn't ice cream. It was frozen yogurt. Reduced fat.

It doesn't taste the same. I am so sad. I guess this is what happens when you are proud. You have bad judgment immediately afterwards.

Good thing we'll have birthday cake to cover up the un-ice-cream-y-ness of the frozen yogurt.

Thank you thank you thank you

51. I am grateful for shredded cheese. That makes me especially grate-ful, right? Har har har.

52. I am grateful I can still understand what people say when they use "it's" instead of "its" and stuff like that, even if it makes me wince.

53. I am grateful that most of my life isn't spent in a congested Detroit airport with Joseph crying in the back, because that's kind of a terrible way to spend an evening.

54. I am grateful that photosynthesis has oxygen as a byproduct. Wouldn't it be sad if trees used up all our oxygen instead of releasing it?

55. I am grateful for plastic.

56. Similarly, I am also grateful to live in a day and age where they know how to make really really really soft fabrics for baby blankets.

57. I am grateful most of my siblings are younger than me, because it meant that when I was their age I was still watching Blues Clues and the Wiggles with them, whereas they're watching, I dunno, Psych. This has prevented me from being too cool for my own good.

58. I am grateful for Joseph's gummy smile.

59. I am grateful that my last name is still Moon, because it's a pretty awesome last name.

60. I am grateful Kevin has other good qualities, even though having the last name Moon was almost enough to seal the deal.

61. I am grateful for WordPerfect, even though I have to convert everything over to Word to share with other people.

62. I am grateful that paper was invented.

63. I am also grateful that Gutenberg's printing press was invented.

64. I am grateful that Cooley and Tukey invented the Fast Fourier Transform in the 60s, because pretty much everything digital depends on it.

65. I am grateful that it was actually Karl Friedrich Gauss who invented it back in the 1800s, because I share a birthday with him and thus sort of can share all his accomplishments, too.

66. I am grateful human babies don't come out as mobile as a lot of animal babies.

67. I am grateful for my brush.

68. I am grateful Joseph has lots of hair because it makes people want to hold him.

69. I am grateful my parents didn't name me Erma.

70. I am grateful that my mom's sisters are on Facebook and that I can always count on them to "like" stuff.

71. I am grateful that, despite common usage, babies do not grow inside people's stomachs. That would be horrible all around.

72. I am grateful Cinderella had the other slipper in the Disney movie so she could put it on after the stepmother broke the first one.

73. I am grateful for lots of fonts, and that half my time writing a story as a kid was spent choosing various fonts.

74. I am also grateful for font names, since those were generally my inspiration for characters' names.

75. I am grateful Leslie did her 4th grade county report on Duchesne, Utah, because I've been partial to it ever since.

Okay. 75 silly ones is enough.

More Gratitude Attitude

38. I am grateful I am not the best at anything. That would be so much pressure. Could you imagine being the smartest person in the world? People would expect you to know so much! (Except, since you were the smartest, you'd probably know it all. But still.)

39. I am grateful Joseph's meconium days were short-lived.

40. I am grateful that I have siblings that write funny nostalgic things on my Facebook wall. (It is still a wall to me.)

41. I am grateful for the ticker so I can see the funny things my friends write on their siblings' walls.

42. I am grateful that my hair is longer than Kevin's, because it's gross finding other people's hair not on their head. (Sorry, Kevin.)

43. I am grateful Brahms wrote other music than his lullaby, even if Fisher Price doesn't think so.

44. I am grateful for cardboard.

45. I am grateful for the ads which come in the mail because they entertain Joseph.

46.  I am grateful that I can sing songs to Joseph however I want, and he won't correct me.

47. I am grateful for chlorophyll and carotenoids.

48. I am grateful for "grandma movies" at the store, because they make me laugh. (Kevin and I have defined a "grandma movie" to be a cheaply-made movie with characters and plot and title that bear an uncanny resemblance to the most recent Disney movie. Think "It's a Car's Life 2" or "The Frog Princess" or something like that. We call them grandma movies because it's not that hard to imagine a grandma accidentally buying this for a grandchild. [Excluding my grandparents, of course.])

49. I am grateful that there's no law saying that I have to be good at photography, even if I keep a blog.

50. I am grateful that I have mostly forgiven Jon Schmidt for writing music which hijacked (classical) piano competitions in high school, because it turns out I kind of like the Piano Guys.

More to come . . .

Because a thankful heart is a happy heart

My goal is to get to 100 by Thanksgiving. Maybe at some point I'll do serious ones.

In the meantime . . .

1. I am grateful that my arms are long enough that I can fold bath towels sitting down.

2. I am grateful I am not a baby.

3. I am grateful my parents took care of me when I was a baby. And later on, too. But especially when I was a baby.

4. I am grateful that lots of my friends on Facebook are posting videos of their babies laughing. Partly because I like to hear the funny sounds they make when they are making their babies laugh.

5. I am grateful that I have never been chased by a goat named Voldemort, or any goat.

6. I am grateful that the time I was in a pen with a bull, the bull wasn't mad.

7. I am grateful that no one has ever forced me to eat broccoflower. Look at that ghastly green color!

8. I am grateful that Kevin sees no need to ever own a TV.

9. I am grateful that the diapers from Amazon Mom arrived when they did yesterday, because we were down to 2 left and it was getting scary.

10. I am grateful I discovered how to make my own instant oatmeal instead of having to buy packets from the store.

11. I am grateful for onions and garlic and how they smell when they are being sauteed.

12. I am grateful that we now have a garbage disposal and our own washer and dryer.

13. I am grateful that our car is not in the shop like it was last Thanksgiving.

14. I am grateful that people eventually learn to say my name right.

15. I am grateful that some people even say it right to start with.

16. I am grateful for Draino.

17. I am also grateful that before we bought the Draino, I was brave enough to dry and unclog the drain myself, even though it almost made me throw up. It made me feel empowered.

18. I am grateful Kevin tried next.

19. I am grateful our ceiling is not caving in right now.

20. I am grateful that maintenance comes over in the mornings without warning, and often manages to come during my showers (well, twice), because it has shortened my showers considerably. Actually, I'm not grateful for this one because I actually like to enjoy my showers and not live in constant fear, but it's probably better for the environment for me to take shorter showers.

21. I am grateful that someday I will live in a house of my own, because maintenance can't come in unless I answer the door. And they will probably call ahead instead of showing up randomly.

22. I am grateful that I can get used to new layouts on gmail, Facebook, and pretty much every website. Timeline hardly even bugs me anymore.

23. I am grateful I am not using Firefox 2 anymore.

24. I am grateful that I can't remember the last time I was stung by a bee.

25. I am grateful I've never mixed up the barbecue sauce and chocolate syrup in the fridge.

26. I am grateful that most everyone is nicer as an adult than they were in elementary school. Including me.

27. I am grateful Joseph's fingernails do not grow any faster than they do.

28. I am grateful for all the people who called Joseph an easy baby, even though I didn't agree with them, because it gave me a new perspective. It's much easier to get along with an "easy baby" who has bad moments than a "difficult baby" who has happy moments.

29. I am grateful that I usually catch when I write "then" when I should have written "than" and that I am able to correct it.

30. I am grateful that 3 years ago today, Kevin took me on a treasure hunt with a diamond as the treasure at the end.

31. I am grateful that he's a pretty chill guy and doesn't overanalyze.

32. I am grateful I'm not 18 years old. I mean, it would be cool to be 18 and have the chance to go on a mission, but . . . ugh. 18 sounds gross.

33. Same with 7 or 8 or 11 or 12 or 16. Or any age except where I am.

34. I am grateful Kevin hasn't made me play chess with him since the time he checkmated me in about 24 seconds.

35. I am grateful I like more foods than I used to as a kid.

36. I am grateful that I never have to eat Cheese Nips or Cheetos or Easy Cheese or American Cheese or Goldfish.

37. I am grateful for the number 37.

Lessons I'm Relearning

I hope my last post didn't come across too angsty. Life is good and great here -- just some days are hard.  That's how life is. For the most part, life is good and getting better. But for my own sake, I'm going to list things that make transitions to being a stay-at-home mom easier. I'm not the best at implementing them (especially yesterday), but if I write them down, then at least I have a list of references!

-Service. Yeah, I'm starting with the most obvious one. If you are feeling lonely, chances are you're not the only one. If you reach out to your neighbors, friends, ward, community, and world, you won't have time to languish in self-pity. And you won't really need to pity yourself, anyway.

But it can be hard to find opportunities to serve outside the home when you have a little baby. I'm sure I could try harder and utilize babysitters more, but there are ways to feel fulfilled even at home, such as
-Focus on your baby. Now is such an amazing opportunity to make an impact in the world by playing with your baby, even if the results don't show up for another few decades. I find that the days where I really try to play with Joseph, rather than just bounce him on my knee while I try and do something on my laptop (this was what I did too much of yesterday, and I can't even remember what it was for, so it must have been pointless), we're both a lot happier. As an added bonus (though this may just be Joseph), once we've had some serious play time, he's generally more willing to let me do some stuff I want.

-Keep the house clean. Again, I often fail at this. But lately I've been trying really hard to deep clean one room each day. I figure I have just a few more months where every mess in the house is under my control before Joseph gets into everything, and I may as well take advantage of these days. Plus, it's hard to be happy in clutter.

But life gets tedious with just housework and baby. And even if you find time to do things you can do on your own, like errands, reading, piano, sewing, cooking, indexing, and blogging (not that I usually manage to do all of those in a day, but I try to do at least one a day), it still gets lonely. So you try to make it to mother's groups and sewing groups and dinner groups and institute, but then the baby has a blowout or your hair takes longer to dry, or stuff just happens. Much as I hate being late to stuff, I've learned,

-Show up to stuff, even if you're late. It is so important for me to get out of the house at least once a day, even if it's just over to the swing set. Better if it requires me to drive. And it's okay to be late to most stuff! People understand that it's hard with a baby. You just need to be there for your own sanity's sake.

-Recognize that a little bit awkward is normal. A friend of mine was recently placed in a calling which involves a lot of interaction with other women. She told me that she didn't feel adequate for the calling because she's not one of those nice people that everyone feels comfortable around. "Well, who is like that?" I asked. She responded, "Oh, I don't know, like Stacey." But here's the thing -- every time I talk to her about this sort of thing, Stacey is always her example of a nice person. What that says to me is that Stacey is an exception rather than the rule. There are some people anyone can feel completely comfortable around, but the rest of us just lumber along awkwardly, trying not to offend each other.

That's been helpful for me to remember as I go home from activities, feeling so stupid about some of the things I've said. I have to tell myself that yes, I might be the most awkward visiting teacher ever, but at least I'm doing it! Yes, I may have just broken every rule in How to Win Friends and Influence People, but at least I made an effort. Eventually, the awkwardness will wear off as I live in a place longer.

-Get as much sunshine as you can. Open windows. Go outside. Even if it takes 5 minutes to bundle up the baby and you're only out there for 3 because it's cold, still go outside!

Anyway, those are a few things that have helped me be happier making this transition. What other things have worked for you? Also, here's a serious question. My service of choice is to make cookies and give them to people. But you do that enough and you start eating way too many cookies (we listed all the treats we've made the past few months and it was kind of embarrassing). But I would feel so silly just giving people, I dunno, carrot sticks on a plate. And since produce is pricey, I don't feel like I can just hand out pineapples to friends. What can you give to people that's not lame, but not unhealthy?

Transitions

Note: This post is the first in a series about transitions. Sorry if it comes across angsty. I'm not fishing for compliments or pity, I promise!

At the beginning of my sophomore year of college, I think my bishop was concerned about me. In his first interview with me, I feel I came across as a shy, underconfident 18-year-old girl who was willing to fall into the arms of the first young man who showed interest in me. However, by the end of the school year, he told me that I had become confident and strong and he trusted my judgment when I said that I was interested in a young man who would soon be home from a study abroad in China.

And just like that, over the course of one school year, I blossomed into a confident young woman.

Except, that's not quite what happened. You see, about the same time (plus or minus one week), I walked into the office of a professor in the college of electrical engineering to ask if I could do research for him. I understood that he was a well-respected man and I felt intimidated by him. He looked over my resume and transcript and asked me a few questions, and then said, "Kyra, I'm going to hire you. And one reason I'm going to hire you is because it seems like you lack confidence. I'm going to help you gain confidence."

And then a few years later, "Kyra, you have changed. I remember when you first walked in you didn't have very much confidence in yourself. And now you do!"

What do these stories say about me? Who was right about my confidence level -- my adviser or my bishop? Am I really more confident than I was 4 years ago? And was it even a matter of confidence, or did I just become comfortable in my new settings? I suspect the latter.

Right now I am still at the beginning of a new setting. And you know what? It's been hard. I've been trying to figure out what has made this move to Michigan so hard for me. There are a few big answers -- I just had a baby less than six months ago, I'm not doing homework and labs with my husband anymore (and yes, I am jealous of the guys in Kevin's classes and research group replacing the position I held as Kevin's engineering buddy), and I'm more than 1000 miles away from my family as opposed to a few blocks away from my sisters and a few hours from my parents. Then there are little things, like not being very busy, so that even though there are tons and tons of social events I attend and host, they make up a relatively small percentage of my time.

But I think the main thing that makes this transition hard -- that's made every transition hard -- is that people just don't know me yet. I feel like I come across as a quiet, frazzled young mom who is 5+ minutes late to everything and who doesn't quite know how to keep a conversation going.

Will that perception change? Of course it will! It always does. People find out that most of what I say is tongue-in-cheek and that I do in fact have a sense of humor. As time passes, I learn how to reach out to people and learn how to really love them.  It's happened before and it will happen again. It just takes time to acclimate, time to recapture that confidence that seems to get left behind wherever I last lived.

Pictures from August

In keeping with my accidental pattern of posting pictures 3 months late, I figured it was time to post some pictures our friend Aura Maria took of us back in August that I've been planning to post for a while now. (If I keep this pattern up, you can look forward to pictures with the Toblers in Columbus in December, pictures of the cider mill and arboretum in January, and Thanksgiving pictures in February.) It's fun to see how much and yet how little Joseph has changed in 3 months.

 

First Memories

This morning has found me in a bad mood. But rather than complain about it (though I'm sure I could make everything sound quite entertaining and garner a moderate amount of pity), I'll leave my sorrows behind on gchat and wax nostalgic instead.

I don't know how old I was for my first memory of my mom, but I remember the feeling nonetheless. It was this realization that I loved this dark-haired lady who gave me Smarties when we went to the bank, who sang me songs and turned on tapes like "Sounds Like Fun." I loved Mommy, and I loved everything about her.

Nor do I remember my age for my first memory of my dad. I do remember him scratching my face with his stubble. He liked to whistle. One time when I was a toddler he took me out of Sacrament Meeting and I remember feeling embarrassed.

My first memory of Leslie is when I was 2 and she was 4. It was a windy day and the door slammed on her finger, breaking it. I was on the other side of the room and she still blamed me.

Right now the first memory of Kaylie is from when I was 4 and she was 2, though if I thought long enough I could remember an earlier one. The memory is of her biting my elbow. It hurt! I cried and cried and Mommy gave me a wet washcloth to make it feel better. The pain was still too much, so I fell asleep in my bed. When Daddy came home he saw that the pillow was all wet and he thought it was from me crying myself to sleep, and he wasn't very sympathetic.

Oh. here's something earlier. I don't remember it but it's worth mentioning. According to my mom, before Kaylie was born, I marched around the house announcing "His name will be John" like a mini Zacharias. Guess I was wrong.

But I was right for a few things about Jennie. When Mommy told me she was going to have another baby, I decided her name was going to be Holly and she was going to be tall and blond and basically look like Odette from Swan Princess. Considering there was no one blond on either side of the family, I find that rather visionary, even if her name wasn't actually Holly. When she was born I slept on the window seat and I think the Risenmays watched us. And/or Grandma Rytting. We went to the hospital the next day with presents.

Kiana was born when I was almost done with kindergarten. I woke up one day and Marival from across the field was at our house making breakfast. In the mornings I went to the preschool lab at USU, and when I got back I ate lunch at the Briscoes. I think Sandi was a little impatient with me being too picky for a PBJ.

"Don't do peanut butter?" she asked.

"Don't do jelly," I responded, worrying that I might actually have to eat this thing.

Just then, my dad showed up and rescued me. He took me home and made me delicious ramen for lunch. And then I went to kindergarten. And then I met Kiana.

The day my mom found out she was having a boy, I cried. I was in 3rd grade and couldn't bear the thought of having a boy like Brett or Brian or Corey living in my house. (I later learned that boys are the best, especially Spencer.)

In my 3rd grade class, my teacher would ask for current events. Most of the time the boys would share current events about the Packers or Broncos or Cowboys, all of which I hated because they liked them. One time Michael soberly went to the front of the room with a newspaper clipping with a picture of our substitute teacher. He had just been arrested for something. (Nice background check, Providence Elementary.)

But rarely did I have a current event worth sharing. One Friday in the middle of May, I announced that my mom's due date was today. Then Monday rolled around. Still no baby. Tuesday. Wednesday. Thursday. Friday. Another weekend. Monday. Tuesday. Wednesday. Thursday. Friday. Each day, my teacher asked if the baby had come yet. Nope.

That Friday afternoon, my parents headed up to the hospital for my mom to be induced and we all got to have sleepovers with the Tanner girls, even Kaylie and Kayley, who weren't old enough for sleepovers yet. Brooke and I played until midnight, wondering if the baby had come yet.

The next morning, we found out that baby Spencer had come around 11 that night! Our own baby brother. And then I finally got to share a current event in class, right before the end of the school year.

And those are my first memories of my family members. There. My mood improved.

Prove it!

Note: This post is mainly me talking to myself. If you're already a better person than I am, than wear that well-fitting shoe and don't be bothered by my remarks.

So, I'm voting for Mitt Romney tomorrow. Why? Well, a reason I'm voting for him and not just against Obama is that I believe that since he's a businessman, he'll understand firsthand how regulations can choke any business, and so he'll get rid of them. So businesses will be more confident, so they'll hire and invest more, yada yada yada, unemployment and underemployment will go away a bit. And the economy will improve!!!

But what is the economy for? For my book group, I just read a book called Radical Homemakers and the author asked that question. Is the economy a game where the point is to win as much money as possible? I don't think so. Studies show that money only buys happiness up to a certain point (I think $70,000), so what's the point of having a lot more? People eventually realize that having more stuff means having more to maintain and play with and store -- like they say, the second happiest day of a man's life is the day he buys a boat; the happiest is the day he sells it.

So what's the big deal with conservatives and money? Why are they such greedy money grubbers who turn pale at the thought of giving more to the government? Don't they care about their fellow beings? Don't they, like Harry Reid (but not Mitt Romney, according to Reid), want to serve the poor?

My automatic answer to that was yes, yes of course they want to serve the poor! Of course they want to donate to private organizations and donate their time! They just know that government has a habit of doing things wrong. They see the bureaucracy and overhead perpetuated by the government as a huge waste of resources. They can spout statistics saying that government has spent a trillion dollars fighting poverty and is still losing to a large extent. They've read Free to Choose by Nobel Prize-winning Milton Friedman who cites example after example after example of how government came in with good intentions but just left things a messier with no one happier (everyone, read that book. It is important.). They, like him, believe things are fixed when they are left up to the free market.

So that's my automatic answer. But then I asked myself, is that really how it is for me? Sure, Americans are the most generous per capita of any rich country. But am I being as generous as I can, as I ought to be?

Then came my conscience saying, Prove it. If you really believe that private groups are better than government for taking care of the hungry, the homeless, or those devastated by hurricanes, Prove it. If you believe that healing families through the gospel of Jesus Christ is the way to end so many of the ills plaguing the nation, Prove it. If you believe that you can do a better job than unions at protecting students and good teachers, Prove it.

Now, I'm certainly not sure how I'm going to go about proving all of these things to myself, but I'm going to try. Hold me to it. Hold me to the the words of King Benjamin in the Book of Mormon (Mosiah 4: 16, but you ought to read the whole chapters 2-5):

And also, ye yourselves will succor those that stand in need of your succor; ye will administer of your substance unto him that standeth in need; and ye will not suffer that the beggar putteth up his petition to you in vain, and turn him out to perish.


Whoever you end up voting for, whether you believe good is better accomplished via the public or private sector, never think yourself absolved from personal responsibility. That's not what government or the free market is for.

Star Wars: "Dis-ney"eds a sequel!

I was so happy when I found out Disney bought Lucasfilm yesterday. Best half-birthday present ever.

In all seriousness, I was a bit dismayed when I heard they were going to make a Star Wars VII because for one thing, that's getting a bit high in Roman numerals for me. For another thing, really, Disney? Are we back to the Michael Eisner days of spewing forth cheap sequels? Oh goodness. When I was a teenager, we would get little Disney ads when we bought new movies, listing all the great new sequels coming out and as I flipped through the catalog, I would furiously announce to the void, "Bambi 2? How can anyone make a sequel to Bambi?"

But if anyone could do it, Disney could. And they did. And did. And did. Which is good news for us, actually, because it means that Star Wars VII has a lot of sequel forms to choose from. For your convenience, I will divide them up into major categories.

The vignettes (Think Cinderella 2, Tarzan and Jane, and Belle's Magical World): Sometimes you don't need a whole big plot but rather just a few feel-good stories. If Star Wars VII takes this form, you can expect Han Solo and Leia to fight and make up, C3PO and R2-D2 to make a new robot friend, and a few ewoks to have a celebration. Hopefully they'll outsource any CGI to cheap animators to make it feel more real (I still have the image of Cinderella waddling up the stairs permanently etched in my cranium).

The unnecessary love story (Think Mulan 2, Hunchback of Notre Dame 2, and Pocahontas 2): Not every Disney story ends with a wedding. And that's why you've got to make the sequel! I mean, think about it. Poor Luke gets left out in the cold with only a bunch of Jedi ghosts to keep him company at the end of Return of the Jedi. He out of everyone deserves love, and I think he deserves to marry someone as beautiful as his mom. So this version would focus on him finding love. Somehow. Surely some girl in the universe would have him. I could see us spending 90+ minutes watching him search for love.

Since we already wrecked everything, let's go against canon some more (Think Hunchback of Notre Dame 2 and Pocahontas 2 again): Hunchback of Notre Dame was such a bizarre choice for Disney to start with. They had to completely change Victor Hugo's story to make it family friendly, and even then it still wasn't family friendly (unless you're comfortable with your kids hearing songs about lust). And Pocahontas? I don't think there was a single shred of truth in that movie, except that there was a girl named Pocahontas and a man named John Smith. But the good news is, since they wrecked everything, they could make some sequels! Instead of dying at the end of the first movie, Quasimodo could get a girlfriend. And as for Pocahontas . . . well, they can still pretend to be historically accurate by having her end up with random John Rolfe. I'm not sure how Disney can do the same with Star Wars, but I'm sure someone somewhere has made up a history for post-Return of the Jedi, and they can completely ignore it.

The sidekicks' stories (Think Lion King 1 1/2, Kronk's New Groove, Tinker Bell): Because you can never have enough of Chewie or C3PO or Jar-Jar.

The midquel (Think Tarzan II [different from Tarzan and Jane], Bambi II, The Fox and the Hound II): We can have this midquel set basically anytime between Phantom Menace and Return of the Jedi, so why not learn about Luke's adventures on Tatooine? I bet he had lots of fun with stormtroopers and learned a lot from Ben.

The next generation (Think Lion King II, Little Mermaid II, Peter Pan II, 101 Dalmatians II, and Lady and the Tramp II): What happens when Han Solo and Leia's kid doesn't want to fly spacecraft or be a Jedi? Can he still follow his dreams in a way that can save the galaxy again?

The Christmas edition (Think Beauty and the Beast: The Enchanted Christmas): Oh wait. George Lucas's wife already did this. Sorry, Disney.

Incidentally, is it just me, or do these songs sound similar? (For the 2nd song, skip to the 1:30 minute mark.)

Aren't you so excited now for Star Wars VII?

A few of my favorite things

I feel like making lists right now, so I decided to combine two lists into one blog post. And since I believe in ending on a happy note, I'm going to start with my current pet peeves.

A few of my not favorite things:

-Facebook statuses about snow. In October. Lots of them. Look, guys, it snows in October in Utah almost every year. Snow in September is something to announce. Snow in late October is not that interesting.

-Single-ply toilet paper. Worst thing ever.

-Postpartum hair loss. I thought I was all done with weird postpartum stuff. Nope. It's suddenly hit with a vengeance the past few weeks. It's like living with a cat . . . with 2 foot long hair. Gross.

-People telling Kevin and me we look like brother and sister. All we have in common is dark hair, dark eyes, and the same height. I'm a lot fairer than him (read: pale as death), we have different face shapes, different noses, different chins, different ears, different smiles . . . if one of us had blond hair then we would never hear this, I'm pretty sure. (And why does this bug us? Probably because we do know how we are related.)

I just don't see it.

Well, that's enough griping. Now onto happier things! Specifically, objects.

A few of my favorite things:

-This pillow. 

Front

Back

 To be honest, every time someone new comes over, I'm afraid they're thinking, "Why did Kyra make a pillow with her wedding announcement on it? How narcissistic can you get?" But that's not it at all. In fact, I didn't even make the pillow. It was a wedding present. From an 80-year-old man. Who made it himself. The pink back makes me cringe a little but it still has stolen its way into our hearts and onto our couch. So when you see it in pictures now you know where it came from.

-This couch. 

When we skyped with Kevin's family I think they were a little appalled at our choice (we reassured them it was cheap). But deep down . . . I kind of like floral prints, okay?

-This train.

We don't even have it anymore, so the fact that I remember it shows how much I like it. Kevin made it for his History of Creativity class and we had it on a shelf until we moved (we couldn't justify moving a piece of junk across the country). Luckily, my dad has it stored in his office, so it still exists somewhere other than our hearts.

-This napkin holder.

I'm surprised it's lasted this long, given that our first ceramic napkin holder lasted less than six months. If it survives however many kids we'll have, it'll be a miracle.

-This mug.

 If you future mothers are ever debating between giving birth in a hospital or elsewhere, pick the hospital. You'll get a mug like this. And its corresponding straw of awesomeness. I remember looking forward to having a mug like this way back when my mom was giving birth to my youngest siblings. And now here I am with one of my own. It's great.
-Our back door.

So we used to live along 700 North in Provo, which can get kind of loud. I was looking forward to moving to a more secluded spot once we got to Michigan. But as it turned out, our windows still opened to a somewhat loud road. But now that we don't have our windows open at night, I've found a great advantage to living in view of a road -- it keeps Joseph occupied. Now I can set Joseph in his swing to watch cars and pedestrians through the fence, and it keeps him happy long enough for me to, say, peel the potatoes. Hooray!

And . . . that's all for now.

Scouting and scheming

I started paying a lot of attention to Christmas newsletters my senior year. I'd toss aside the ones where the kids were too little or too old and instead look at the ones with kids my age.

"So-and-so is hoping to attend BYU in the fall." I would store so-and-so's name in my brain and hope to meet him/her (okay, I cared more about the "him"s . . . I was a teenage girl, after all) in a few months at BYU. By the time school rolled around, I had forgotten most of the names but still thought it would be awesome if I became friends with my parents' friends' kids.

And as a matter of fact, I met at least 3 of them. The first one was my RA Jennae (Rah-jennae, we called her). She was in the RA office the day I moved in. My dad saw her and said out of the blue, "Are you [her mom's name]'s daughter?" She was, and we always enjoyed having the family newsletter connection.

The second connection came my sophomore year. When I was in high school, my dad had had a picnic with some of his high school friends and I got to know their kids that night. So when I recognized Kyle's name in some Facebook group, I think I added him and we ended up being pretty good friends for the rest of that year.

The third connection came at a bridal shower for one of my high school friends who was also at BYU and getting married the week after me. She had invited a girl named Kate and I got to know her a little bit during the bridal shower. Imagine my surprise when 2 weeks later Kate showed up with her parents at my reception!

"I was at home and saw your face on the fridge!" she explained. Turns out her mom was one of my dad's friends from high school and so they had received my wedding announcement. And I think we had actually played together when we were little and had just totally forgotten.

Why do I bring these up? Because I have all these friends having babies and my reaction every time I hear the sex of the baby is either, "Oh! He's going to be Joseph's best friend at college!" or "Oh! She's going to marry Joseph someday!" (But then I have to think, "Well, she's going to be born in December, so she'll be a year behind at school, but with missions, they might meet up . . .") And I'm sure my parents felt the same way  twenty some odd years ago with their friends' kids. Maybe?

Of course, if social networking makes yearly newsletters obsolete, then kids won't have that chance to scout out their future friends the way I did. But a future mother-in-law can still dream. :)

A few songs

This morning, I remembered my magnum opus.

Okay, my real magnum opuses are my marriage to Kevin, my baby Joseph, and my master's degree. But besides those, I have another magnum opus. It's called "Mediocrity."

Kind of ironic, isn't it -- my greatest work is about mediocrity. But it is! It's a song I wrote 4 years ago about feeling mediocre at BYU. And today I remembered it. And I remembered that I wanted other people to know it. A few other people do -- my ward once used it in a little musical they made. (I wish they would have consulted me on things like the tempo or rhythm a bit more, but alas.) I sang it once at Acoustic Explosion. So it's not entirely unknown.

But the thing is, it's never been achieved on the large scale like I wanted. To be done right, it requires at least 4 singers as well as some dancers. It would sound better with a few instruments besides the piano. At the very least, I feel like it deserves to be sung by people who are . . . better singers than me.

Here are the words, at least. I have the sheet music in PDF form but I don't know how to add that to this blog post.

I come from a little town in Texas --

Only pianist in my ward.

I was helpful, I was needed,

At least, I wasn't ignored!

My high school was in East San Francisco --

I stood up, I stood out, was strong!

But here at BYU, I'm not different;

I'm just another Mormon in the throng.

Cuz Mediocrity is my specialty now

I used to be the very best but now I blend in with the rest

No one flocks to me as the special one now

I'd like to be important again, somehow.

They call me AP Harold --

I took 4 tests each May!

But now I'm here at BYU

That's not a lot to say!

Cuz Mediocrity is my specialty now

When all your ward got 4 point oh's I guess that's how it goes.

Please talk to me like I'm special somehow

Cuz I am feeling small and unsure right now.

I did ballet and racquetball,

Piano, tennis, band,

Was student body president

But now can't understand,

If I could be in NHS

And be first-ranked, no less,

With all my high school accolades

Why can't that save my Econ grades?

English and Chem 105

American Heritage, stay alive

Physical Science, Math 113

These classes make me want to scream!

(dance part)

Mediocrity is my specialty now

It stings, it bites, it's really lame to find out we're the same

But though mediocrity is my specialty now,

Someday I know I'll find my place

I'll help the world! You'll know my face!

Cecil, Karl, and Brigham will cheer when they find out what's in store

That mediocrity is not for me anymore!

The end.

So yeah, it needs music with it because the rhythm is a little tricky (some words have to held longer in order for the lines to scan, etc). But yeah. My magnum opus. I'm not ashamed to admit it. I am, however, too shy to demonstrate how it is supposed to sound because that would require me singing. Which is a scary thing to do on the Internet.

Anyway, my dream is that somehow someone somewhere decides to do something with this. Since I never got around to it. Surely there are some BYU students with too much time on their hands, at least in the summer.

Oh, and one other song. I realized this morning that with the changing demographics this other song won't even make sense anymore in a few years, so I ought to share it now. It's called "Freshman Reunion" and it's to the tune of "On top of Spaghetti."

At freshman reunion,

Each girl sports a ring.

You ask, when'd that happen?

Oh, two years last spring.

It started in April

When classes were through.

The girl who'd write weekly

Forgot about you.

The AP was handsome,

And he spoke Chinese.

Her little heart fluttered

When he fell to his knees.

She now has a baby!

And soon will have two.

But you should feel flattered -- 

One's named after you.

This may seem disheartening

But don't waste your time!

Those BYU sophomores

Are now in their prime!

The end. And thus ends my plea for recognition.

The Swing

How do you like to go up in a swing,

Up in the air so blue?

Oh I do think it the pleasantest thing

Ever a child can do!

Up in the air, and over the wall,

Till I can see so wide,

Nichols Arboretum

Rivers and trees and cattle and all

Over the countryside-- 

On the way to a cider mill

North Campus

Till I look down on the garden green,

North Campus

Down on the roof so brown--

Up in the air I go flying again,

Up in the air and down!

-Robert Louis Stevenson, The Swing