Wicked

My mom called a couple weekends ago to offer me a ticket to Wicked in Portland with her, my sister (in the picture with me) and loads of extended family. What a treat!! The only catch? I'd have to arrange babysitting and drive down on a Friday afternoon. I hemmed and hawed and debated if it was worth the hassle of asking favors of friends. In the end, I went for it. And by the time Derek got home from work to collect all the kiddos, Ellie had a fever and went straight to bed, the little ones had runny noses and Carver turned croupy again the next morning. I feel TERRIBLE about that part. I made cinnamon rolls today as peace offerings to try to keep those friends, despite unintentionally sharing our germs.

But the musical - WOW! It was fabulous, as good as everyone said. I intentionally didn't listen to the music first and it was really fun to let it just unfold on stage. What a great story! As an avid lover of all things literary, I was impressed with the many, many clever lines, meaningful themes and the depth of the characters. I loved the costumes, the music, and especially the tight harmonies. And holy smokes - Elphaba (the lead) had the most amazing voice I've ever heard (way better than the CD!!). I never wanted her to stop. No wonder all my favorite songs were her powerful solos.

And on top of that fun night, I was able to wish my grandma a happy 80th birthday the next day. I didn't stay for the party because it would've put me driving in the dark and in the rain in a little old pick-up truck, but it was great to say hello to the family before heading back home to all the sick munchkins in my own house.

A little change is good

Can I just say that I'm feeling enormous pressure to write something interesting? Who knew so many of you would respond to my confessions of lame-ness!? I'm not coming up with anything fabulous but the honest truth of right now. And the picture of Lydia has nothing to do with it. I just like it! It makes me think of warmer days and being outside.

Our ward was split on Sunday and we're in the chunk that has been cast off to another ward, another church building, another opportunity to bloom in an entirely different garden. I loved hearing the kids respond. Lydia was all excitement - "we get to meet a whole bunch of new friends!" Ellie kept asking probing questions like - "does that mean we keep the same house and all our stuff?" Clearly, she's not only missing the definition of a ward but she's also confused about the boundaries. I heard her tell a friend on Sunday after church, "well, Kayla, I guess I won't be seeing you at church anymore. I'm going to a new ward." Yep, Kayla's only a couple streets over in our same development. She's coming, too! :) Actually, both Ellie and Carver are bringing most of their friends with us. Lydia was the only one in her class leaving, so it's a good thing she's the most well adjusted. I might take that back. We drove by our new building after the meetings ended and Carver wanted to get out right then and there and find his new sunbeam class!

It's bittersweet for me. Derek'll laugh at that and say I've been a wreck. But crying is just the way I feel things. If I'm happy, I cry. If I give a talk in Sacrament meeting or a lesson in Relief Society, you better bank on tears. If I'm really tired, I cry then, too. I've cried my fair share this weekend, too, but not because I'm afraid of the future or because I'm not excited to be part of a new ward. I'm really grateful that we can share our over-abundance of primary age children with an older ward. (We're doubling their primary overnight!) But being in a Relief Society presidency means that I've build strong friendships with ladies I've grown to love. We've served day after day, through many meetings and visits, phone calls and emails. And it's tender to think of that ending. Sad in a way, but like we told Ellie, "we're not MOVING. It's just church on Sunday." We'll just have to find new ways to keep those old friendships, of course. Playdates, blogs and crashing ward parties come to mind. I think I'm all done crying - no guarantees, though, Derek! I'm just getting ready to bloom where I'm re-planted.

hypothetically speaking

So let's pretend for a minute that you lose track of time one afternoon. Time passes so quickly when the little ones are sleeping and you're working on shutterfly. It could happen easily, right? Pretend you look up and it's a solid 10 minutes past bus stop time. What should you do? I think I'd probably hop in the van and zip to the bus stop without even getting the little ones up, noticing on the way that the neighborhood is completely dead of all parent and student stragglers. I think I'd stop by a friend's and check to see if my kids went home with her, since I turned in a new emergency form with the names and phone numbers of 3-4 moms in our neighborhood. That makes the most sense. But what if she says the bus driver couldn't FIND that list and decided not to let the girls off? Then what? Maybe you'd think that they were back at the school. You know, the bus comes from the school - maybe it'd go back there. Of course, hypothetically speaking, the little ones are still sleeping so you'll have to go back home and get them out of their beds to do this rescue mission. The school might not have them, though - the office closes the second the last bell rings, making them less than helpful. There might be a Dean of Students to confess to, I mean ask for help. And then you'd find out that lost and found children actually go to the bus barn on the other side of town.

By this time you might be repressing a giggle at the absurdity of the whole situation, but there is always the worry that your kids might be scared and that probably keeps you from actually laughing out loud. The bus barn smells like stale coffee and feels like a truck stop, but there your kids would be - waiting with their bus driver who lost the right emergency form and is ready to write it down again. You might even get permission for an older child to walk a kindergartener home from the bus stop but I can't be sure that's available. It might be surprising that your 2nd grader was scared and your kindergartener wasn't phased a bit. I bet there wouldn't be any tears, but they might wonder if their mom is completely nuts.

And if all of that were to happen, I bet you'd feel like you just won the "Lame Mom of the Year" award and make it up to your girls with a "no homework day," a movie and Girl Scout cookies. Just hypothetically speaking... :)

starter of all projects, finisher of none

I am a really, really good "thinker-upper of projects." It's one of my many talents, along with "pile making" and "running like crazy to the bus stop because I'm late again." I have so many plans for my pieces of wood, totes of fabric and boxes of scrapbooking supplies. I'm going to make a t-shirt quilt with the family's old t-shirts, a jean quilt with old jeans and maybe one out of my old sweatshirts. Waste not - want not, right? And that's just a sampling from the textile department. Add in all things painted, sewn and glue-sticked and you get the idea.

I've been saying that I just don't have TIME. And that's true. I'm too busy blogging and reading and cleaning and shuttling kids and feeding kids and all that good stuff. But that's just an excuse. I'm not a good finisher and I've come to see a piece of what holds me back. It's in this clip "Create" with words by President Uchtdorf:

I LOVE it. I should watch it every day to reinspire me. What struck me as I watched it this time is that FEAR is what stops me from finishing sometimes, maybe even a LOT of times. I gather the supplies, I have the idea, I worry it won't turn out and I just give up. Derek can attest to the number of those projects lying around.

How 'bout those fabric yo-yo's that flopped? Great idea and I even followed through making a couple before giving up. In the end I didn't like how mine turned out because of the fabric, but nothing bad happened. My mom recently finished a quilt top that she doesn't really love. And we talked about how she probably won't ever make a quilt out of it, she might even just donate it to DI or something. At first, I thought "what a waste!" And then we talked about what a good experience it had been making it, all she'd learned. The process of creating it was worth the effort, even if the finished product isn't her favorite. I've got to be willing to try, even if the true value of the project is in learning as I go.

And it's opening up so much exciting opportunities to me! I heard the coolest interview on NPR with singer/songwriter Andrew Bird. His music is a little quirky, but I really like it. He talked about how he gets a melody in his head and then finds words to fit it. The sound of the words, the feeling of the words is what matters. Not the meaning quite as much. He's flexible about that part. :) It was inspiring to hear someone talk about their craft and remember my desire to create something tangible - whether with words or paper scraps or fabric yo-yo's.