Time for a Trip

In the middle of all the fixing up and cleaning of our old house to sell and the renovating our new house to move into we had a trip to Spain that had been planned for a while. Austin's mom flew into town to watch the girls and off we went! I felt like it was really bad timing as we had a lot on our plate, and it took me about half the week to relax, but on the plus side we went to Spain! We also got an offer on our house while we were in Spain and I got to practice my Spanish with Austin's old mission companions and families. (Okay, actually I was super nervous about this and it was one of the reasons I was stressed about the trip. I thought it went well though). I fell in love with the Alhambra and Austin and I soaked up the sun on the beaches of Southern Spain while trying to avoid the naked old men also enjoying the beach. As a fun bonus we got lie-flat airplane seats going there and back! I feel like I'm in the Golden Age of airplane travel with those bad boys. Also I'm pretty sure some famous/rising-to-fame band sat in our section on our flight from Madrid back to L.A....only musicians could get away with that hair and those outfits.

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Beach day in Spain...they have historic buildings all over the place so we walked out on a causeway from the beach to this old fort.

 

 

We stayed for a few days with Austin's old mission companion Israel and his family. (On the left). They were very nice and hopefully our 6-year-olds meet someday! I also got to meet Austin's other companion from Southern Spain, Jose, and his wife and baby.

The Three Amigos

 

The Alhambra. I'd like to go back sometime.

 

I wish I could read Arabic.

 

 And I wish my sister had been there to take some gorgeous pictures. My little point-and-shoot only goes so far.

It's Spain, but it felt kind of like Agrabah from Aladdin.

I think I loved the Alhambra because it was so cool and restful after hot tourist-y activities. (Although obviously still a tourist attraction). There were shady courtyards and fountains and gardens all over the place. Austin actually stepped in one of these fountains...I would have gotten a picture but I was too busy pretending like I didn't know him.

 

 

Another successful trip instigated by Austin!

 

New House Renovating

 

The new renovation project has been occupying a lot of my thoughts recently, so I'm going to post more pictures. Now if I was going to do flip houses as a thing I wouldn't do any of the work myself, because with Austin gone most of the time and three little girls I didn't have as much time to help out as I thought. I had to put the girls down for naps at my mom's a lot then run down to the new house, paint and stain my little heart out, then run back about the time they woke up. I missed a lot of afternoon naps, which as a pregnant woman made me grouchy because I like/need naps. On the plus side, I did get a lot of sunshine and fresh air and alone time.

 

 

Covering up the blue on the wood siding.

Dad putting in new deck.

 

New garage door

Master bath

 

Fireplace with old rock off and drywall on top half

 

Rock going on

 

Trying to find the perfect beige to paint the whole house

 Kitchen a little more put together and opened up

And Everything Nice

And now for an important part of The Flip House story:

We have three girls who are all so very different but all wonderful. Raising them is hard work sometimes, but I consider them our most worthwhile investment. In February we will be adding another girl to our family, bringing the grand total to four!

New Baby Girl

 

Usually I just get one ultrasound to check for medical problems and gender, but this time I got an early gender ultrasound before I told people. (And I just went in for my full one today). When I told people I was pregnant with Charlotte I had to endure a lot of annoying comments like, Family member: "Let's hope it's a boy!" Me: WHY, DON'T YOU LIKE GIRLS??? or Family member: "We need a boy!" Me: WHY, DON'T YOU LIKE OUR GIRLS?? I didn't actually yell these responses, although I probably wanted to, but as a pregnant woman I am a little more on edge emotionally and sensitive to things such as gender comments. Earlier this week I saw the first leaves of autumn falling and it sent me into dry-heaving sobbing mode.

Anyway, I figured I'd dodge the annoying comments by just telling people it was a girl at the same time I told them I was pregnant. (Or that it was a boy, but that was always a slim possibility). This wasn't actually 100 percent successful, but it did go better than last time.

I had to wait 4 months to find out the gender so we kept the pregnancy under wraps for awhile. My brother Ammon was actually the first to guess, kind of. We were sitting around chatting talking about clothes sizes for kids I think, when he suddenly joined the conversation, "Wait, are you pregnant?" Me: Ammon! You can't just ask women that! Him: "Oh, I thought you were talking about pregnancy clothes." Me: No! We were talking about kids' clothes! (Or a similar topic, I can't really remember now). Notice how I sneakily didn't answer his question?

Me getting ready to skydive at 4 months pregnant. I was horribly nauseous on the way down because my dumb instructor thought it was cool to do loop-de-loops and flip upside down even after I told him it was making me ill. I didn't tip him. We also had to pull over a couple times so I could puke on the way home. I was denied the satisfaction of sharing this with people at the time so I'm sharing it now.

My pregnancy is an important part of The Flip House story because it's one of the reasons we decided to move out of our cute old house into what shall now be known as the New House. The extra room, (Charlotte can move out of her closet!) absence of stressful problems, (What's going to break next?) and financial wisdom of moving (Good-bye money pit!) are/will be great things about our new place, but I am still really emotionally conflicted about moving out of our old place. I'm pregnant. I can be emotional.

More on that and the After pictures of the Old House later.

A week before I told people about the new baby my sister Charity called to chat and asked me if I was pregnant. (Not sure why? Because we were moving?)  Me: "Charity! You can't just ask women that! A woman's age and if she is pregnant are the two forbidden questions!" Unfortunately sisters are not put off as easily as little brothers...she seemed to think that she could ask me that because she was my sister.... It was nice to finally be able to tell someone the exciting news.

 

So the upshot of all this is, I still can't tell you if flipping a house is everything I thought it would be, because we are no longer flipping a house. (Austin's devious master plan? He's never really liked our old house...) Now we are redoing it to live in ourselves, which is a different beast entirely. I know this, because guess what I was doing last year at this exact same time? Yes, renovating a house to live in. Aaargh. Can I just live in a house for a while?

HGTV and The Flip House

One of the big things going on this summer has been The Flip House. I've always wanted to flip a house...ever since I started watching HGTV, that is. Back when I had cable I watched this show called Flip or Flop, (they almost always make a ton of money though, go figure) about a husband and wife who buy foreclosed or underpriced houses in California, have their contractor fix them up, then sell them a couple months later for a big profit. The wife's role seems to consist of dropping their child off with the babysitter, walking around the disgusting house they just bought and going "Ewww," shopping for pretty new flooring and cabinets to put in it, and then looking good for the open house. Sometimes she mops the floor with a Swiffer mop before the open house starts.

I'm sure she is more involved then that, after all it is only a 30 minute tv show, but the point is: I want to be that woman. What she does looks really fun and easy.

Long story short, Austin found a house down the street from my parents that he thought would make a great flip house. (Little did I know about his devious master plan...more on that in a later post.) It has good feng shui, is in a great neighborhood, my parents wanted to go in on it financially with us, and best of all it was a blank slate, totally gutted--a plus after spending a lot of time ripping things out of our charming colonial house. So we bought it and there went my relaxing summer/fall. But I was secretly excited because at last I would get to see what it was like to flip a house!

Not much to look at. Pretty bad actually.

 

 

Front entry

Looking into kitchen from entry. Note walls.

Fireplace and ceiling hole.

 

So the story is, the old-timer guy living here died and some relatives(?) moved in and let a huge leak in the middle of the flat roof develop. The whole house got water in it. The man's son took over the property and put a new roof on, ripped out everything, I mean everything except the fireplace, and ripped off and open pretty much every wall to check for mold. Then I think he ran out of money and it went into foreclosure. That's where we came in.

The kitchen and other side of the fireplace

Garage

Master Bathroom

Basement

 

 

I have a lot more "before" pictures but without walls or fixtures it's really hard to tell what the room is...all the pictures kind of look alike.

Next up will be "during" pictures and a report on if flipping is everything I dreamed it would be.

The Bad Hair

 

Lots to blog about after the summer hiatus! I will start as far back as The Bad Hair.

 

This summer Cici got a really bad haircut from Sammy. They found forbidden scissors in Grandma's basement, and with Cici's encouragement Sammy gave her this haircut:

 

 

Cici didn't care of course, but I gave Sammy the option of getting her hair cut exactly like Cici's or giving Cici the brand new birthday Barbie her best friend gave her. Just to play with, not for keeps. Sammy's obviously smart, since she didn't experiment with her own hair. Guess which one she chose? There was much weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth though.

 

Back to the hair, it's kind of hard to tell with the hair brushed to the side, but Sammy took a big chunk out of the middle of her bangs and some mullet chunks out of the side. I decided I would just bite the bullet and trim Cici's bangs all the same length, resulting in this:

 

 It's like a bad Tina Turner wig.

 

I've never been a fan of mullets on girls, so I lived with it for a day then decided I couldn't stand it any longer. We took a mom-daughter trip to Cookie Cutters and got the professional haircut:

 

 

Hooray! They couldn't do much with the bangs but they are growing out now and she's about ready to go in for a trim.

 

Stay tuned for the more important catch-up updates. Big changes have been happening.

Crazy Lazy Summer

 

I was hoping for a relaxing summer, but things go from super-trips-events to boring-lotsoflibrarytrips-unpacking so quickly around here, I'm in a constant state of nerves. There is a project in the works I want to blog about as soon as we get the green light on it, so stay tuned, but in the meantime, lots of pictures from our crazy, lazy summer!

 

 

"He's a big pig, you can be a big pig too! Woo!"

 

My precious. I just love to squish her chubbiness.

 

Our backyard just got a lot cooler.

 

All of us cramming into a seaplane in Alaska reminded me of "It's a Mad, Mad, etc., World."

 

Nature's Power Couple strikes again!

 

And again!

 

And again!

 

Our summer backyard camping trip always earns me lots of love from the girls. I'm hoping it's all they remember of their childhood.

 

Happy Birthday, Joseph! And for your gift, this delightfully chubby redhead!

 

Pretty much sums up our 4th of July.

 

The girls groom our neighbor's pony, Little Feather. (The pony is not actually kept in her backyard.)

 

 

Can we handle another month of summer? We shall see!

 

It's Finally Up!

At the Mystery Spot in California a couple of weeks ago.

Yay! My blog post finally got posted by the mayor!

This is it

I also did the behind the scenes version here.

But here on my blog, you get the behind the behind-the-scenes version.

My house looked amazing. I was so glad lots of people showed up. One lady emailed me the night before, asking if she could come, but said she would understand if I didn't want her to. I thought she was referring to the last minute notice. She was not. Apparently she is arch-enemies with the Mayor and pretty much everyone on the city council. She came in and took a seat right across from where I was planning on seating the mayor. Just what I want him to see when he comes in, someone who hates him. Fortunately, she had to switch chairs and move. I was worried she would try to dominate the meeting, because she has quite a few agendas, but since I love running meetings with a firm and powerful hand (I told the mayor one hour!) she just said a few comments near the end. She actually seems like a really neat lady--apparently she knows everything there is to know about politics in the city--and a potentially powerful ally. I'm curious to know the story behind her statement that she has basically made enemies of everyone in the city.

The night before the meeting, a news anchor from BYU asked me if she could film the evening and me puttering about the house pretending to get ready for the mayor. I politely said no. I was already super stressed about the evening and I didn't want to turn it into a media event.

Turns out my neighborhood friend Amie is also a reporter. I did sit down and talk with her after our women's meeting. She wrote a piece here. (Our neighborhood party got moved back). After she left, I worried that I had inadvertently thrown the Mayor under the bus. Bless Amie, she made me sound good.

I had a lot of family support, which was great. I think my mom and sister were expecting to attend a bash-the-mayor event with a group of rabid feminists, so they were pleasantly surprised that in actuality, it was just a tame little Ladies' Night with the Mayor.

Off to Alaska in a few days--always another adventure!

The Story About the Mayor

This is the long story about the Mayor coming to my house.

Due to the fact that I really like my neighborhood, and maybe a little due to binge-watching Parks and Rec, I have gotten a lot more involved in my community lately. I have a little neighborhood blog, I'm the block captain, starting a service committee, etc.

The mayor here is very responsive to the public, has made good use of social media, and even has a blog that I follow to see what's going on in the city. One day he posted about a local breakfast place and also posted this: "I had a great breakfast with a group of busy but involved residents. We talked about getting more engaged in local politics, transportation, school board, and the City’s future."

I took a second look at the picture. Hmm. I jotted off a quick comment: "Were any women invited?" I was concerned that to the mayor, "busy but involved residents" only equated to "white males of a certain age." But I didn't want to be too quick to judge. Imagine my annoyance when I checked back and someone else's innocuous comment about how they needed to check out that breakfast place got approved and mine did not. We middle children do not like to be ignored. Plus, was the mayor hiding something? Was my town really run by the good ol' boys club? I decided to write the mayor.

I was very nice. I told him that his group didn't look like the Provo residents I know, and that no one was more concerned about the issues he mentioned than the women in our community. I told him that I was confused as to why my comment didn't get approved and encouraged him to include women when he discussed policies that affect the community.

I guess three women were invited, only one showed up after the picture was taken. He was not sure why his social media person didn't approve my comment but he would ask, invited me to host a women's meeting, and lastly do a guest post on the city blog afterwards.

I think the outcome was good. We can talk about it! At first I tried to find someone else to host the group. Surely someone in my neighborhood group has a really cool house? But I finally bit the bullet and just decided to have it at my house. I have been going crazy finishing all my renovation projects that got stalled over the winter. Floors! Baseboards! Hang curtains! Paint trim! All the things I have been dreading doing but now have a reason to do.

I'm a little nervous. I hope people show up and the evening goes well. The mayor is pretty much as big a celebrity as it gets in Provo. My parents are wavering between being proud that the mayor is coming to their daughters' house and a little embarrassed that their daughter is causing trouble again. I'll update you!

Update: The Ladies Night with the Mayor went down tonight, but I forgot to post this because I was having so much fun on our cousins' trip this past weekend.

Review of Coal Harbour Lasik Eye Center in Vancouver, CA

Dry stuff, I know. But when I was looking online at this place there wasn't a ton of reviews out there. So here are the basics: They are a high-volume Lasik eye center open two days a week. That means they can keep their prices low because of the amount of people they are seeing on one day. Compared to the first place I went for an eye exam in the U.S., they were a lot busier. If you like special treatment, this probably isn't the right place for you. The assistants were all very friendly and chatty, but the surgeon, Steven Kirzner, is very to the point with a get-it-done attitude. No idle chit-chat here. I feel like people think that they should spend a lot of money on Lasik because IT'S YOUR EYES but statistically, your Lasik outcome gets better the more surgeries your surgeon has done, and Dr. Kirzner has done over 60,000. This is compared to the 20,000 the doctor I went to first had under her belt. So I felt pretty good.

I liked that they were more honest than the first place I went, which in retrospect skimmed over the actual procedure and just talked a lot about how cool it would be to just open my eyes and be able to see things after surgery. I also say that they were more honest because the first place I went said I needed Wavefront, which costs more, and that patients who used it had better night vision. They kind of made it sound like an upgrade to normal Lasik, which of course I should get since it's just a few hundred more. Since I'm a cynic, I wasn't convinced as to whether I should get it or not until I went to the Coal Harbour Eye Centre. According to their hand out:

"Some people can have irregularities within their optical system, i.e. cataracts. One abnormality or irregularity is 'aberrations' or irregularity in the way that light is focused onto the retina. These irregularities or aberrations can only be measured by sophisticated equipment called an Aberrometer....We analyze all our patients for the abberations and if they are present, we may recommend the Wavefront treatment. Wavefront treatment is only recommended in 5-10% of our patients and only for those who have High Order Aberrations."

So I totally was not a person who needed Wavefront, or who it was developed for. The Eye Center website is really great and has a lot of information about Lasik and PRK.

They did way more thorough testing than the first eye center I went to, then I came back the next day and got tested a few more times before the actual surgery. (We spent the night at the hotel next door).
The actual surgery was quick, but I felt like I was in a bad scene from a movie...just the surgeons, and the fuzzy red light and a laser burning off my eyeballs.... Austin was in the next room watching on TV, and he said it was really gross (he didn't realize they were going to cut the top of my eyeball off and peel it back to laser the inside of my eyeball). For some reason, I felt better hearing that he suffered mental anguish.

Then we tried to leave Vancouver, but due to horrible traffic gave up and just spent the night in the city, which we should have planned for in the first place. My eyes really burned putting my eye drops in that first night, but were much better the next day.

I was really confused, because I showed up early to my next-day check up appointment but no one was in the office. Then I noticed a group of people with dark glasses congregating in the lobby, and I joined them...my tribe of fellow eye surgery survivors. The Dr. showed up and the herd of shade-wearers followed him into the elevator up to the top floor...I guess only he comes in to do the quick check on all the patients who had surgery the previous day. Must keep costs down...

Anyway, that's my review! I can see fine now, a week later, but my eyes are still a bit sensitive to light and fuzzy for a few seconds when I first wake up. Polling my fellow patients, some people were doing awesome and had perfect vision right after surgery, and some were horribly sensitive to light and in pain. I think I probably fall somewhere in the middle.

*UPDATE: Six months later and my vision is great. I was sensitive to light for 2-3 months but now I'm back to where I was with contacts, i.e. normal. I feel like Lasik is such a miracle of science, and I frequently stop and think how neat it is to be able to see unassisted. Also my overseas travel packing has gotten a lot more streamlined in the toiletries department. So yes, I'm loving my results.

The Eye of Sauron is Upon You!

This is my eyeball on TV in Canada! I wish you could see it better, because it's really gross.

Earlier this year, on a sunny Saturday morning, I was getting ready to schedule my yearly eye exam and buy more contacts. This costs me a lot of money. Since my eyes became allergic to extended-wear contacts, I have to use dailies, which added to the eye exam, runs me about 600 dollars a year. More if I want new glasses.

That's a lot of moolah, so my financially-minded spouse suggested I go to a Lasik center that afternoon and see if I was a candidate for eye surgery. It's around 3800 bucks to get it done here, so we would break even in about 5 years.  I'm not big on change, but the idea slowly sank in and I went in the next week. The place I went was really nice and they were very positive about me getting the surgery. (But not too pushy, so that was good). I scheduled a date for surgery and went home, where a few days later Austin came up with the brilliant idea of getting Lasik in another country.

I rejected Istanbul as an option, (we are stopping there for a day in September) and we settled on Canada.  I ended up going to the Coal Harbour Lasik Eye Centre in Vancouver, which was just over the border from Austin's parents' house, a 2 to 3 hour drive, so it worked out well.  It was half the price of getting Lasik done here. Awesome.

Just a few random notes:

I thought I couldn't get Lasik until I was done having kids, but it turns out your prescription just has to stay the same for a few years. Since mine has stayed the same through a couple pregnancies, I'm not worried about it drastically changing if I have another kid.

Going to Canada isn't for everyone. Crossing the border was a pain, (at least coming back we had our Global Entry cards which helped us reduce a 2 plus hour wait to 1 hour), traffic was a pain, and getting a hotel costs money. For us it was cost-effective since we were already going up there for a trip, and Austin's folks were nice enough to watch our girls. It probably wouldn't be cost-effective for everyone.

I didn't know it would hurt. Ouch! I felt like I was in a torture chamber. Granted it only lasted 30 seconds but I would rather have another child naturally than do it again. No re-touching for me!

The place I went, Coal Harbour Eye Centre, wasn't quite as glossy as the first place I went in the U.S., but I feel like they didn't skim over important information/risks like at the first place. It's kind of hard to find reviews online, so I'll probably post a review shortly.

I feel kind of like I have dry contacts in a lot of the time. You have to use a lot of eye drops and it can take a while for your vision to stabilize. I can see great, but when I first wake up it takes a minute for my eyes to adjust.

Sunshine and Roses

aaargh

Blogging on an iPad isn't so easy. I just want to capitalize my own sentences, okay? Stop doing it for me! Unfortunately I'm on vacation and don't have my full blogger capabilities. However, I decided I needed to put my neighborhood blog online so I could stop thinking about it and enjoy my vacation. (I also need to change the template for this blog, but don't worry, I'll get around to it! And I won't worry about it.) So I put it up last night and immediately ran into controversy. 

The point of the neighborhood blog is to showcase interesting and positive things about the neighborhood that would be useful for someone moving here or living here to know. Actually the real point of the new blog is that I like writing and I felt like writing about my neighborhood. Unfortunately, someone didn't like my report of the neighborhood meeting which mentioned a couple annoying people. I thought it provided a much more interesting account of the meeting, which in turn would get more people to come to the next one, since no one likes a boring meeting. But apparently people don't like it when you call other people out either. It's like that little kid who blurts out in the middle of the most insanely boring sharing time on earth, "This is boring!" and no one knows quite how to chastise him because he's right. 

I don't really want to be that awkward kid. On the other hand my neighborhood blog is not a sanitized advertisement for Shangri-la. What do I do? I have to be willing to accept a little criticism--after all, writing by committee is usually as good as art by committee. But I don't know if my intended audience wants to hear anything negative, and Writing 101 is "Know Thine Audience." On this blog my audience is really myself, so my life observations usually go over better. As far as the new blog goes, Austin pointed out that I don't want people to be afraid to comment at meetings. I personally wouldn't mind less idiotic comments at meetings, but I get his point and took down the offensive half of the post.

So my new and improved sanitized neighborhood blog is joaquinprovo.blogspot.com.  

But it would make me feel better if I posted the second half of my meeting notes here. 

"Other not-so-important notes: 

The guy who digressed on parking as we were running out of meeting time until he was told politely that we needed to focus on the big picture. He exhibited no situational awareness, (a cardinal "meeting sin" in my book), repeated himself some more, and then was told not-so-politely that it was time to MOVE ON.

Then there was the lady who digressed about how there are a lot of UVU students living in the neighborhood, and maybe if Orem weren't such a lame city with no city center/personality that the students would stay there instead of invade our neighborhood. The real problem is Orem, people. Hmmm, not sure what we're supposed to do about that in our little Joaquin neighborhood meeting. 

And, of course, the issue of our absent neighborhood chair, which is a little hotbed of gossip that I'm not sure I care to get the full story on." 

Why Didn't I do this Earlier?

Charlotte is sleeping through the night! I read a bunch of baby sleep books before she was born, and though they didn't agree on what age a baby can sleep through the night, I seem to recall that all of the suggested ages were waaay younger than 1 year old. (Although I guess Charlotte is really only 11 months).  I've put off sleep training because she's been sick, teething, blah blah, excuses, but since we are leaving the girls with their Nana and Poppy in two weeks, I decided I needed to get serious.

Last week she woke up at her normal time of 11:30 p.m. I knew she wasn't hungry, as I had stuffed her at dinner so I wouldn't be worried about that, I knew she wasn't poopy because she didn't sound angry. In fact, if I were to do a little voiceover to her cries, it would sound like this..."Mom, why aren't you getting me? Usually when I wake up and cry I get a reward of milk or a long cuddle. Why am I not being rewarded for waking up? I'm so cute, you know you want to pick me up..." Yes, I know she doesn't need anything at night at this age, but it's so hard to resist a crying baby. That's why I went in every 10 minutes to give her a little cuddle then put her back down. "I'm here, I hear you, I'm just not going to give you a prize for waking up in the middle of the night." Of course, psyching Charlotte out by picking her up only to put her back down made her really mad, but it was more to reassure me than for her. After doing this a couple times she calmed down and went to sleep. Elapsed time? 40 minutes tops.

The next night Charlotte slept through the night. For me, sleeping through the night for kids is the solid 12 hours they need--7:30 p.m. to 7:30 a.m. Success? Not yet. The next two nights she woke up at 11:30 p.m. again. Old habits are hard to break. I just held her for a minute, sang her a song one night, then put her back down. Five minutes tops.

Now we are here a week later, and she is solidly sleeping through the night. I'm still pleasantly surprised when I wake up in the morning refreshed and energized. And I can't help but wonder...how many months ago should I have done this? How many nights was I needlessly disturbed from my sweet sweet slumber because I didn't have the gumption to listen to her cry for half an hour? Parents these days. So soft.

A Story from English Class

I'll never forget a story one of my English professors told in college one time. I'm not sure why he told it, except for us English Lit people like to shake things up, but it was about modesty. He and his wife brought their baby girl to church for the first time since she was born, wearing a cute little sundress without sleeves. An older man came up to them after the Sunday service and commented on how cute their baby was..."if only her dress was modest," he casually lamented. My English teacher then told the man to keep himself and his pedophiliac tendencies away from his daughter.

Why did this story stick with me? Mostly because I'd never really thought about the sexualization of young girls in church culture. After consideration, I think the terms "modest" and "immodest" are irrelevant to young girls. I refused to read Sammy this story in a church magazine about a little girl that wouldn't go on a field trip until she put sleeves under her dress, because then she would be modest and ready to go out in public. Let's see, that would make my little girls, who I occasionally send to church in sleeveless dresses...immodest?

A while back, I tried to explain to my sister that my girls could be running around naked and still be modest, but I'm not sure she got the point..."Well, you wouldn't do that, there are pedophiles, etc." Of course I'm not going to let my children run around naked, but little children are innocent. They are incapable of planning to use their clothing to turn people on or draw inappropriate attention to themselves. They have not made any covenants to God concerning what they will wear. Thus no matter what my girls are wearing, they will always be modest. The only reason to dress a certain way now is to practice for when they are older and capable of choosing to dress in the way that lets them stand with confidence before God.

(And lady in church who declared that "some standards will never change, like not wearing sleeveless dresses," go back to church in the early 1900s and see how modest they think your dress is and if standards have changed.) Standards of dress change, but principles don't. And why our pre-occupation with sleeves? Are they just an easy cultural marker of who is righteous and who is not? I heard a mom talking about how modest her daughter is--yes, she always wears sleeves and knee length skirts but frequently her cleavage is busting out the top of her shirt, which I think should be way more of a concern for a parent...but I digress.

How do I plan to teach my girls about how they should dress now and as they get older? "Dress like a lady." "That's not appropriate for this social situation." "Let's dress with sleeves to practice being covenant keepers." "Our family rule is no bikinis." "I would hate for you to have to throw away most of your wardrobe when you start wearing garments." (Too passive-aggressive?)

I've watched with interest as the media has recently exploded with articles about modesty and my concerns about how it is taught. I thought this article most closely matched what I would say:

http://empoweringldswomen.blogspot.com/2014/03/modesty.html

A couple months ago, I had a discussion with a guy in which he tried to explain how women have to take some responsibility for being raped if they're wearing inappropriate clothing. Yeah, that happened. It really bothered me, especially as one day he might be a bishop who, when a women comes to him for healing and hope through the Atonement after a sexual assault, could very well be asked by him, "Well, what were you wearing?" I didn't blame him for this viewpoint as much as the church he was raised in. The church sends out lots of positive messages to women, like "You are daughters of God, you have a divine destiny, etc." But then these are mixed in with the messages like, "Women, you are responsible for the actions of men," or "Little girls, you are being immodest by wearing certain types of clothes." These messages crowd out the good messages and make me want to leave the church and raise my girls elsewhere. Or maybe just blog about it so I can get my frustration and anger off my chest.

In Pursuit of Passion

Pursuit is a funny word. 

So I think I've talked about why I blog before--I love writing and sometimes I just have to write about something I'm thinking about. Writing in my journal is great for my private thoughts, but if I didn't blog about my more public thoughts I would miss out on the vague thrill that comes when I realize someone, somewhere, is reading what I've written. I am an author!

Lately I have been drawn to the idea of creating a blog for our neighborhood. I have all sorts of posts and ideas floating around that need to be written. My first main question is should it be anonymous or should it have my name and picture? If anonymous, I could be more honest about things such as crazy people at neighborhood meetings, but then it might be hard for people to contact me with neighborhood information they want to see on my blog. Also something to consider with going public is that it doesn't take much to propel a person to minor-celebrity status here in Provo. People would know who I was. (Again, good thing?) 

In any case, I want to do this blog because I feel there's really a need for it, whereas my current blog just fulfills my need to write and the needs of bored people to read something interesting to keep their brain from shriveling. I feel like I could influence a whole neighborhood and provide a forum to make real life change happen, and that's a cool thing. I hope this blog may have changed the way some people think about life, but that's much harder to quantify than a blog that boosts the turnout to neighborhood meetings by 50 percent.  

I'll write here on my blog when I just can't keep things to myself but I wanted to mention the current project on my mind...I'll post a link when it's ready! 

 

A Chance Meeting

It was serendipitous: I had decided at the last minute to drive by the library Friday night and drop off some books when I saw a sign on the corner: Neighborhood Meeting at the Library, Sat 9:30 a.m. The babysitting stars aligned and off I trotted the next morning, curious about what we were meeting about. Now, in my experience, 50 percent of meetings are a waste of time. They're just so long, you know? If only people could say what needs to be said and move on...in any case, I figured I could just leave if it got too boring.

 

Fortunately, from the opening minutes it promised to be an interesting meeting. The neighborhood chair (who apparently annoys people with his Luddite tendencies) started by introducing the fresh-faced BYU student who had called the meeting to discuss a proposed development. An indignant lady near the front immediately hijacked the meeting. "This is a neighborhood meeting! There's so much we need to discuss! Crosswalks! Etc!" The neighborhood chair tried to explain that it was a neighborhood meeting in that the meeting affected the neighborhood, but that the meeting did not belong to the neighborhood, it belonged to the BYU student who had paid for the room and for the advertising for the meeting. They went back and forth on this point for some time while the BYU student stood awkwardly at the front of the room and I sat with glee in the back of the room. Awkwardness and infighting? Excellent start.

 

The BYU student was eventually granted the right to talk at his meeting and he gave a little presentation about a four-plex he wanted to build on an empty lot around the corner from our house for single families. I could tell he was nervous...and rightly so. People don't go to a neighborhood meeting early on a Saturday morning unless they are really passionate about what happens in the neighborhood. I liked the guy though. He was a newly-married construction management major that won some money in a Dr. Pepper football throw-off contest and wanted to build something with it. (I could tell he felt silly about this and originally described it as a vague scholarship thing. I think he was pleasantly surprised when we all thought it was fun how he won it.) I could have warned him though about what this crowd would like and not like about his proposed plans. (Population density: bad, Green space: good. House design mixing old and new: bad, financing in place, good.)

 

After his short presentation he opened the floor to comments. Hands popped up all over the room, because basically, if you were there, you wanted to comment. The comments ranged from dumb ("You should build a single family home!") to thoughtful ("How is this being financed?") with a pinch of crazy thrown in.

Actual exchange:

Person A:You can't stop progress!

Person B: Do you own a house in the neighborhood?

Person A: Yes.

Person B: Do you have any rentals?

Person A: Yes, I have one over in Mapleton.

Person B: Ha! Well there you go! (With note of triumph in voice for ferreting out evil landlord)

 

At this point in the meeting I was definitely feeling superior for owning a historic home, living right by the proposed development, and not having renters. (Although the brunt of this group's wrath is really reserved for absentee landlords.) I knew this group would like me.

 

For some reason, I was really nervous when I finally got to put my two cents in, but I think my comment (speech?) went over well. I warmed up the room by stating that I owned a 100 year old house a block away and had three kids. (Home-owner-with-family brownie points.) Then I speechified about how no one was ever going to put a single home on the lot, because the land was too expensive to justify that, and that a well-thought-out development would increase the property values better than an abandoned lot. I seconded earlier suggestions for two parking spots per unit rather than three, more yard, and a historic look to the outside based on the jewels of the neighborhood rather than the old/new architecture which sounds good but pleases no one. (Cheers and cries of "Bravo!" Or maybe that was only in my mind.)

 

I felt comfortable talking about property/land values and design issues, but I am still pretty ignorant of the zoning issues and how you keep single students from taking over a family development, so I let other people speak to those concerns. I felt awesome though. The comments after me were very affirming of what I said and the two ladies sitting next to me* both started furiously writing their contact info down for me and asked me to join the neighborhood Facebook group. I felt so popular.

 

The BYU student promised to change things per our suggestions (looking at the Facebook group he has already started on that) and I left energized and full of ideas. Walk the boundaries of our neighborhood and become familiar with businesses and blocks in it! Start a blog about things I like in our neighborhood! Become Neighborhood Chair 2015! It's just fun to be involved in something bigger than yourself, something that makes you feel part of a community. I felt listened to, and like I was able to use my talents for shaping discussions and leadership, and that I Am Still A Person away from my kids and husband. I go in fear of becoming a boring individual, especially since as a homemaker it's easy to get lost in the constant demands of family and stop developing your interests and passions.

 

 Plus, I was reminded of one of the main reasons why we moved to this area of town. I like that it has a sense of place and a cohesive neighborhood. The meeting was a fun chance to meet some fellow citizens and see what living in this neighborhood can involve!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*It turns out they are on a Steering Committee. I wasn't aware a neighborhood could be steered. Did they make this up? I joined the Facebook page and saw a call for action to join the Walkability Committee...apparently I have much to learn about committees.