Sunday, October 28, 2007

CONGRATULATORY

Lane is 15!



Sweet! (His word, not his temperament.)


To celebrate his birth, Lane had a party:



(Too bad we don't have a picture of the girls he invited: they were GORGEOUS. I didn't even know that it was possible for girls to be so pretty in junior high.)

He went out to eat with his Grandma and Aunt:



And spent the day at Lagoon Amusement Park with us:


(playing hackey sack with brothers and best friend Cody)



HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LANE!


Friday, October 26, 2007

HYPOCRITICAL

I was just enjoying a few quiet moments by blog-surfing this morning. I visited a few friends' spots and was slightly disappointed to find no new material to read. What? Are you busy or something? Do you think there's nothing going on in your life that I might be interested in reading? Is your camera card devoid of pictures upon which to found your posting? No jokes? No stories? Friends, don't you know I need even the minute-est of musings for added meaning in my life?

Then I realized that I haven't posted anything for a few days, either.

(Hope you weren't hoping for anything more than that!)

Well, as long as I'm here...

I've been at rehearsal. As much as it may interfere with things, I do have to say how much I love rehearsal. I love it truly, deeply, immensely. It fills me up. It is practically my favorite part of being in a play. My truly favorite part is getting to wear a wig and have beautiful hair for at least some part of my life. A few examples:

"Crazy For You"



(can you find me in the blondie line-up?)



"Man of La Mancha"
(a true travesty, having to put on that beautiful hair, and then mess it up to be a prisoner!)



"A Christmas Carol"
(I love my Little Bo Peep outfit!)



I wish I had pictures of me in my "Thoroughly Modern Millie" secretary wig and glasses. That was amazing (in a nerdy, hilarious sort of way). The best wig in that show was Millie's bob. I was jealous. Our Millie could flip that bob like nobody's business. Ah. Hair. I wish I really had some.

They tried to make me a blond in "42nd Street." I looked awful, though, so I've been brunette ever since. I got to see my new "Christmas Carol" wig last week. Dark brown. Love it. Too bad they can't just let me have it, minus all the ringlets and twists, etc. that are soon to go into it.

Bet you're so glad you just spent time reading about my hair fetish. Maybe I should have stayed away a little while longer!



Friday, October 19, 2007

BIG...

Boned? No. Breasted? No. Mouthed? Maybe.
Get a load of the conversation this morning with Joshua as I cut his incredibly fast-growing, disgustingly long fingernails. He's the one with the big mouth!

Joshua: Mom, you know how fingernails and hair come from your dead cells?
Mom: Uh, huh.
Joshua: If that's true, and my hair and fingernails grow so fast, does that mean that I am dying faster than you?
Mom: I'm not sure that one thing equals the other, but it does seem unfair that you, being a boy, have hair that grows so fast, and I don't have anything that grows fast. So where do you suppose all my dead cells go?
Joshua: Well, there's always your butt...

Lovely.




Monday, October 15, 2007

NOT A GOOD CONFIDANTE

Here's an email I got from Mindy-Mindy-Bo-Bindy this morning (sorry for all the wierd fonts...I haven't figured out how to fix it...):

Hey Ker,

I saw your blog. Is the ‘mad’ thing about me?

(Yes.
Mindy was diagnosed with a brain tumor on Friday. She is scheduled to see a specialist later this month, which I think equals good news because the doctors aren't rushing her to the hospital in an ambulance just yet, and also because it is a unique way to celebrate her October birthday...)


Here’s how I’m looking at it: I’m gonna wring every last advantage out of this. People are gonna feed us, pity us, love us, and be our friends out of the sheer responsibility they feel. In fact, you know how they have baby showers? I’m thinking of having a ‘tumor shower’. What do you think? Good idea, right?
J

You can mention me on your blog if you want. I’ll take any prayers I can get. I really think this is going to all be ok and that I will get some big, huge, fat blessings from it (no, not my big butt).

I love you!

min

Okay, people. You heard the woman! Start praying!

Mindy, I saw this yesterday and thought of you, with the whole eye thing and all...
"...Faith is things which are hoped for and not seen; wherefore, dispute not because ye see not, for ye receive no witness until after the trial of your faith." Ether 11:6
Get it? Because ye see not...Ha! You didn't say this was affecting your vision, though, so I probably just made a really bad joke. I like the scripture, though!
And a joke for Grant. You really might consider the whole eye patch thing...

Pirate's Eye Patch

A seaman meets a pirate in a bar, and talk turns to their adventures on the sea. The seaman notes that the pirate has a peg-leg, a hook, and an eye patch.

The seaman asks "So, how did you end up with the peg-leg?"

The pirate replies "We were in a storm at sea, and I was swept overboard into a school of sharks. Just as my men were pulling me out, a shark bit my leg off."

"Wow!" said the seaman. "What about your hook"?

"Well...", replied the pirate, "We were boarding an enemy ship and were battling the other sailors with swords. One of the enemy cut my hand off."

"Incredible!" remarked the seaman. "How did you get the eye patch"?

"A seagull dropping fell into my eye.", replied the pirate.

"You lost your eye to a seagull dropping?" the sailor asked incredulously.

"Well...", said the pirate, "..it was my first day with the hook."


Sunday, October 14, 2007

ON A HAPPIER NOTE

This past week two of my friends got engaged.

On Tuesday night I got a text message from Clarissa, telling me that Eric had proposed to her at rehearsal, and she was out and about showing off her ring and getting lots and lots of congratulatory hugs. Eric and Clarissa met last year during the run of "Beauty and the Beast" at the Hale, so it was an appropriate place to celebrate their engagement, as well.




That same night my dear Carly was out to dinner with her beau, Dillon, to celebrate his birthday. Dillon began a conversation about what a lovely day it had been, and then told her there was only one thing that could make it any better. At this point Dillon walked over to where Carly was sitting, tripped on the way over, and then recovered enough to kneel and propose marriage.


What happiness! What bliss! I'm glad they shared it with me (and through me, us!).

Speaking of happy notes, last night Michael and I had the chance to attend the Utah All-State Choir Concert in the Tabernacle. I'll admit, initially I was there as a responsible parent, but not a very interested one. I was tired, the benches were hard, and there were other things that I wanted to put first on my agenda besides searching for Evan among hundreds and hundreds of high school singers.



Well, Evan was actually easy to find (he got to sit next to the girls, lucky boy!), and once the first notes of music began, I was captivated.

I have heard about the amazing acoustics of the Salt Lake Tabernacle, and I have attended countless performances there, so you'd think I'd have noticed them before. But never before have I been surrounded and saturated by such beautiful music. It was magical. I had to look around me a few times because it sounded as though there were people singing behind us! The acoustics were just so spectacular. The dynamics were astounding. The diction was exemplary. The music was glorious. The concert was mesmerizing. Afterwards Michael teased me about the tears in my eyes. And although I do cry at most anything, music concerts have really never done it for me. But WOW! What an experience it was last night. Thanks for the music, Evan.


And, finally, here's a little bit of music to share with you. It may bring tears to your eyes, but not for beauty's sake! Enjoy!

Saturday, October 13, 2007

MAD

Some things are just plain rotten. No two ways about it. Some things just stink. It makes me a little bit mad.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

CONTEMPLATIVE

It is no secret that Evan stutters (in fact, that would have been a nice thing for Michael to have mentioned to me before our first "date" with the boys...another story, another day...). If you have ever spoken with Evan, it is no surprise for me to tell you that he stutters, either.

What sometimes surprises me, though, is that Evan doesn't think he stutters. I heard him tell his speech therapist on the phone last week that he doesn't need to see her because he doesn't stutter anymore...

Interesting.

What is also interesting, and what has been a bit surprising to me of late, is that Evan's stuttering could also be a gift.

Seriously, I must be nuts to say that, because who in their right mind would want to stutter? Or to have a child that stutters?

Nobody. Except maybe the silly kids who play that game, "Which would you rather have: a hole in your head or a hole in your chest?" It might go something like this: "Which would you rather have: trouble with speech, or trouble with walking?" How do you pick?

So maybe it's a good thing we don't get to pick (or do we...?). I certainly wouldn't have picked it for Evan, but then I also wouldn't have just had the conversation with Natalie about how Evan's stuttering has helped her young son Cameron realize that he's not alone with his own speech problems. I wouldn't hear people at church commenting and complimenting Evan on his guts and gumption for saying the Sacrament prayer every week, stutters and all. I wouldn't have learned about sweet, beautiful, popular Ellie telling Evan he was special because everyone can talk normally, and not everyone can stutter.

Interesting.

It is true that people seem to listen harder when Evan speaks. They care more, probably because they have to work more to understand, and also because they start inwardly rooting for him when things start to get bumpy. I think, then, that stuttering is a gift to the listener, because we usually get more out of things when we have to put effort into them.

I think stuttering has been a gift for Evan because he has sweet, nice people for friends. They are kind teen-agers who look inside of Evan and enjoy him without haste or judgement. Stuttering kind of weeds out friends who aren't able to look past the outside garble. And who wouldn't want the nice kids to befriend their child?

I think Evan's stuttering has been a gift for me. Lots of people come to talk to me about how great Evan is because he has touched them in a special way, and I like hearing good things about my kids. Additionally, Evan's example of no fear has been really good for me. Most people don't believe that I am shy, but it's true--just ask my mom or dad about all the years of tears and fears that people were looking at me, listening to me, laughing at me...I think I've come a long way, but sometimes I still take a backward step or two. Evan has helped me to keep going because he has always been able to talk to anyone, anywhere, anytime, and never thought twice about his stuttering. So what's my excuse? I want to be like Evan.

I think of Moses, in the Bible, who described himself as "slow of speech." I love the Lord's answering reply to Moses (and to me):

And the LORD said unto him, Who hath made man’s mouth? or who maketh the dumb, or deaf, or the seeing, or the blind? have not I the LORD?
Exodus 4:11

Moses did great things in spite of (and maybe sometimes because of?) his slowness of speech. Evan is doing great things, too, and I bet he'll keep them up! The Lord is in charge. He made Evan, and no matter why it is that Evan stutters, there are compensatory blessings. There are gifts.

I would be wise to end this post now, and not delve into something even more personal to me...but since when have I been wise? So here it is:
Admittedly I still hurt sometimes over our inability to have more children.
There.
I said it.
It's been a lot of years. You'd think I'd get over it. And sometimes I think I am.
I do wonder, though, at the idea of compensatory blessings, and at the prospect of taking something difficult, like Evan's stuttering, and being able to make it something worthwhile. Lemonade for your lemons. And though it might show true weakness in me for finding a relatively easy trial to be so difficult (which would you rather have: no more children or to lose them all in a car crash...), it still is what it is. I want to know what the gifts are.
In six years I've come up with this much: gratitude for what I've got. A little more sensitivity to other's inside disappointment. A learned avoidance of the questions: "So, when are you going to have another one?" or "So, when are you going to get married?" or any other "So, when are you going to ..." question that's really not my business. A glacially-paced but growing knowledge that I am good enough just as me. An up and down acceptance that the Lord is in charge and really does care. A slowly traveled pathway back towards believing in prayer.
Do you know too much about me now?
Probably.
I should stick to junior high stories. They're funnier.

P.S. No need to comment on this. I really just had to get it out in the open to see and look at. Let's just share it in quiet, for now. Thanks.