Love

I love this man.  I really do.  He's my kind of perfect.  This picture was taken last Christmas, and when I stumbled across it today...not only was I happy to find a picture of us together, and all those wonderful thoughts that went through my mind of how much I love him...but I also thought "Where in the world is that shirt?"  I had completely forgotten about it, and I have no idea where it is.  See, I'm missing a lot of clothes that I can't track down, and it's getting more and more frustrating by the day.  So, there's a lot of love going on in this picture.  For my husband, for my clothes.  At least I know where one of those things is!

My Saturday Night

It's 10:00.  Saturday night.  I'm sitting in the living room using Bryan's computer.  Analisa left to go back to school today.  I didn't get to hug her before she left because I was still asleep in bed.  I'm sad Bryan will be leaving tomorrow.  I like Bryan.  And, I'm sad Chris is leaving too.  I feel like I'm slowly getting to know him.  Last night, while we were waiting for our movie to start in the theater, I talked to him about a family vacation down to visit him in San Diego, and I got really excited thinking about it.  I like Chris.  I'm not sad like, crying sad.  But...just sad like, bummer sad.  We'll all start life up again on Monday.  But we'll be in holiday mode, and that's always a little happier isn't it? 

It's 10:03.  Marcus, Bryan, Colin, and Chris are watching Futurama (I think) in the computer room.  Callie, even after telling me over an hour ago, "I think I'm tired.  I think I need to go to bed," is playing something in her room -- saying "shew" to the birdies.  This means her imagination is in full swing and functioning well, or she's hallucinating.  Samantha is hopefully sleeping undisturbed by the drama going on in her room.

It's 10:05.  I should go to bed.  I need to finish preparing my lesson for tomorrow -- Financial Responsibility.  I just got an email from someone who read my post on Kidz on the therapy we're doing for Samantha and I'm so tempted to stay up writing her a long email answering all her questions, but I know now's not the time.  So, I blog instead.  I need to get up early to attend BYC.  I need to have my lesson ready.  I need to pack the diaper bag and lay out the clothes for the girls.  I need to do so much, but I'm feeling so unmotivated.  I just want to sit and relax...do nothing and have no consequences for it. 

10:12.  I just went in to tell Callie no more playing...except I had to bring out the stern-mommy voice.  There are clothes scattered all over the room, mixed with a few books.  We'll take care of that tomorrow.  I still hear her...singing to herself...but that's ok.  If she only knew how often I smile thinking of her after I have a stern-mommy moment. 

10:15.  Callie is now meowing.  Very loudly.  Very very loudly.  

Thankful for Family

Callie (5 months old) with Great Grandpa Bud

This year, I've tried to explain to my almost 3 year old what "thankful" means.  She says the words "thank you," but she's never used "thankful."  I told her that to be thankful was to be happy for the things she has.  She seemed to get that, though her thankful/happy list definitely changes based on her mood.

One thing that I'm happy for is my family.  I live with my in-laws.  I'm surrounded by extended family.  Only miles away are Marcus' grandparents -- so Samantha and Callie's great-grandparents.  This week, for Thanksgiving, we have all of Marcus' siblings in town.  It's fun.  I love it.  The only thing that would make it better would be if my family moved out here and were only miles away.  I sometimes really miss them and wish they were closer than just a phone call away, but I feel so blessed to be surrounded by the Green side.  I'm thankful for them -- I'm happy I have them nearby.

Lessons Learned at the Mall

I love the holidays. I do. But today, when I went to the mall, I left feeling imbalanced and frustrated.


After a lovely lunch with family, Callie and I departed ways with the crew to head back for a nap (for Callie) and work (for mama). I was stopped by a man at a kiosk selling hair products.

Lesson #1 -- don't stop. Don't ever stop. When they see you and start walking towards you, do what you need to do to avoid stopping. Smile and quickly avert your eyes. Ignore them completely. Pretend you're about to vomit. But don't stop.

I wasn't interested in his product and told him. But he was persistent, insured me it would only be one moment, and let's face it, I have a hard time saying "no."

Lesson #2 -- It never takes one moment.

He wanted to put some serum in my hair to make it shine. Ok, fine. Who doesn't like shiny hair? He asked me to sit down for a minute.

Lesson #3 -- Don't sit down, and if they repeat "for just one moment" it certainly will NOT be just one moment.

As he combed through my hair, in disgust, he told me how dry my hair was.

"What is wrong? Why is your hair so dry? Look at this."
I responded with a classy, "Yep. Well." I mean, does he want me to get into the whole story of why my hair is too dry?
"Look at this," he continued. "It's so dry. Why?"
I guess he does really want to know why. "I haven't cut my hair in over 6 months." And maybe I should be embarrassed by that, but I was more annoyed at his disgust for my hair, that I said it with almost a sense of pride.

Lesson #4 -- You've been there far too long when you allow yourself to go into the ugly version of yourself mode -- it's never ok to feel good about such a bad bad thing. One should always take care of the hair.

He smiled. He said he wanted to use an iron on my hair. I, surprise surprise, actually washed and dried my hair today and so had no desire to flatten it out. In fact, most of my desire at this point was to leave. I'm sitting down, Callie is playing with the pink flat iron, and I keep looking over at this over kiosk of guys who are looking at me, clearly enjoying the fact that I'm stuck.

Lesson #5 -- You got yourself into this; noone can save you. So yes, high desire to leave.

As Mr. SuperSkinny reached for the flat iron, I told I didn't want him to use it on me.
"What?!"
"No flat iron please."
"This. This. This flat iron?"
"Yes."
"Use?"
"No. No flat iron."
"Flat iron?"
"Yes."
"Ok."

He takes the flat iron to my head and flattens out a HUGE portion. Oh my.

"Look how shiny. Look beautiful."

I had no idea how long my hair really was. I'm a bit shocked, but annoyed nonetheless.

"Isn't it beautiful and straight, and shiny?"
Oh brother. "Yeah. It's shiny. And straight. Thanks. I have to go now."
"Just one minute." (Refer to lesson #2)

He proceeds to give me the sales job on the ceramic straightener and I look over and see the 2 guys still looking at me with amusement. I pleadingly look over at them, but what are they going to do? Perhaps save me with their Christmas Cell Phone Saver-deal-thing they have going on over at their station? I politely try to tell Mr. SuperSkinny that I'm not interested in a hair straightener and he looks at me as if I'm the least fashionable person on the planet. He may have me there.

"You not straight?"
Is he talking about my hair still or my sexuality? "It's fine. I use a straightener sometimes; I'm just not interested." I feel like I'm going into the whole it's-not-you-it's-me routine.
"You like curls?"
"Ya know, I normally don't even do my hair." And when the guy doesn't get the hint, start fabricating the truth. I mean, ok, I do my hair...not everyday, but I'm starting to think I should play up this "least fashionable person on the planet" persona. It could work for me at this point.
"Let me...let me..." He takes a section of hair, on the other side of my head, and curls it with the straightener. (sigh) "Beautiful?"
"Yeah, it's pretty. Thanks. I really have to go now."
"Just one more minute."
"No. I really have to go. I'm on my way out. I have to get my daughter to bed. I start working in 1/2 hour. I have to go. Thank you."
"You want me to straighten it out?"
"No. I'm fine. This is great. Thanks."  It's not great.

And I leave the mall, with a curly right side and flat left. Imbalanced. Frustrated. I get Callie in her seat and notice that the burned rubber smell I keep getting whiffs of is my hair.

On a good note, my hair is soft...and probably shiny.

Lesson #6 -- There's always a positive that will come out of a pile of negatives.

At the time, I was rushed and frustrated. I was even more frustrated knowing it was all my own fault. But in the car, I found it quite comical. It was a nice afternoon.

Happy Holidays!

A Prediction

Hear ye, hear ye.  Let it be known that R. Marcus predicts the following:

Within the next few years, there will be a Kate boom.  In other words, many people will be naming their baby girls Kate. 

And Jenny agrees. 
(Though I think read somewhere Kate's full name is Catherine Elizabeth.) 

And I so love that name, and now, it will be ruined by trendiness.  But can the name Kate really ever be ruined?  I guess we couldn't really ever have a Kate anyway.  Samantha, Callie, Kate.  Too many "ka" sounds?   

Anyway, I'm quite excited for their little wedding.  I remember watcing Princess Diana walk down the aisle.  I sat in our family room watching the entire thing.  I think I was 8 or 9.  It was so magical to me.  So, yes, I'm cheesey enough to not only be excited about this wedding, but to create a blog post about it. 

Conversations with Samantha

These are actual conversations that took place today after church.  I repeat...these are actual conversations that took place today after church.

Conversation #1
While Samantha sits in her high chair, her mother feeds her an extra buttery grilled cheese sandwich.  The mood is lighthearted and happy. 
Mommy:  Sammy, do you want more?  Mmmmmmmmore?
Samantha:  mmmmm
Mommy:  Mmmmmoooore?
Samantha:  Mmmmmmmooooore.
Upon hearing Samantha's request for more, Mommy gives Samantha more to eat.  This conversation repeats 3 times.  Enter Daddy.
Mommy:  You've got to hear this Marcus.  Ok.  Sammy, mmmmmmmmore?
Samantha begins to kick her legs with excitement.  And though she hesitates to cooperate, decides she will after all and asks for "more" to eat.  All rejoice by clapping and cheering.

Conversation #2
Mommy, trying to multitask, begins to do some therapy during lunch.  She takes a flashlight and flashes the light in Samantha's eyes.  Samantha moves her head away and squirms in her highchair.
Mommy:  Samantha, if you want me to stop, you'll have to say "no."
Samantha:  NO!
Mommy:  Very well then.
Mommy immediately puts the flashlight away and continues to feed Samantha lunch. 

Conversation #3
 Mommy continues to give Samantha parts of the extra buttery grilled cheese sandwich.  Samantha begins to not accept the food anymore and Mommy senses thirst.  She picks up Samantha's cup and offers it to the child.
Mommy:  Sammy, do you want water?  clearly annunciating Wa.  Wa.  Wa-ter. 
Samantha:  reaching for the cup Wa.  Wad.  begins savagely drinking from the cup
Mommy:  Very good Sammy.  Water.  Water.  The sky opens to the heavens and angels descend, singing songs of praise...or at least it feels that way.

We are so excited about Sammy's progress lately.  We all, therapists included, have noticed how much Sammy's been "talking."  The other day, it occured to me that if I didn't start working on this with her, responding to what she was saying and using the opportunities to guide her speech, she'd lose it; she'd begin to connect that what she's saying isn't getting the response she needs/wants.  So, I've been working really hard to help her realize that what she says is meaningful and can help her get what she wants.  And, today, well, it was a pretty awesome day.  Our computer is down, so I haven't been able to upload pictures in a while and it may be some time before I can, so until then, yeah for progress!

Utah: Economic Zion

Well, according to Newsweek, Utah has become "an economic Zion."  In their short article "Promised Land," they give quite the complimentary review about Utah's economy.  Over the years, I've known many people to say that they could never live in Utah.  But, with unemployment these days...and how great Utah seems to be doing...they just may reconsider that.

Cameras

Before Samantha was born, I looked for a carseat and stroller.  This caused me such stress.  I wanted to get the perfect ones.  I didn't want to have buyer's remorse over something that I would be using everyday.  I hated that feeling.  I ended up buying what it was I bought, and I was happy with it.  No big deal. 

I have that feeling again and it's making me sick.  I'm getting ready to buy a camera.  A good one.  In the past, I've asked around.  I've asked what people like.  I've gone back and forth.  I decided: I'm just going with the Canon Rebel because I can get more for the $.  But, as I searched today, I couldn't keep from looking at Nikons again.  Truth is, I don't know what I should want in a camera.  I'm uneducated in the way of the camera, and it's so frustrating.  Whatever I read, I don't understand.  And I'm looking to purchase this camera in the next few weeks.  I want this camera Christmas morning.

Picking out a camera is more stressful than picking out my stroller.  This is liking finding the right guy.  I'm finding a hard time committing to a decision here.  Rebel?  Ok.  But there are many different Rebels.  Nikon?  Ok.  I know I like Nikons.  And I found one that was a good price....but should I go with the Rebel instead?

What is the most important feature of a camera that I should be looking at?  Do I want video?  Will I regret not getting a camera with video on it?  Down the road, will an extra $100-200 make a difference?  Is it really ok to get a used or refurbished camera?  Will I get an ulcer trying to decide all of this?  And when it comes down to it, won't I just, most likely because I don't know anything about cameras, be happy with whatever I end up deciding on?  Probably.  But maybe not!  These are the questions I'm dealing with these days.

I wish someone would just say, "Look Jen, just get the _______ because ______, ______, and ______.  Oh, and by the way, here's $$$$ to purchase the camera."

I'm sure I'll figure it out.  But I hate the process!  I just need to relax and decide, right?

The Screen Door

Samantha loves doors.  She always has.  She loves throwing them back and forth with all her might to watch them swing open and shut.  She loves slamming the door shut...hearing the loud bang...but then is annoyed when the game is suddenly over.  So, naturally I open it again for her.  Most of the time a wedged pillow keeps the game going for long enough to keep her thrilled. 

But Samantha also loves screen doors.  Yes.  She has figured out she can slide the screen door open and shut (and she's probably the reason we had to replace the old screen door that kept coming off its track.  I'm pretty certain we should have bought the replacement for that.).  The other day, while in the kitchen, I was hearing her at the door while I was busily working on something, when it became quiet.  I stopped, looked over, and found this pig face staring at me:

What a delightful face!  I laughed quite a bit and took a picture. 

After, she gave this face.  I'm not sure, but I think her tongue was starting to feel a bit strange after licking a screen door!  It'll do that ya know? 

I'm so grateful for my little Sammy.  She most always keeps me laughing.  What a funny girl.