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.

The Glorious Symbol of Motherhood

Twice a week, I and six other widely assorted people gather for a Spanish class. Our teacher is really great--she's always well-prepared and very patient with our mistakes. (Although last week she just about gave us all heart attacks when she told us she had invited *real* Spanish-speakers to come talk with us.) Anyway, I've been wanting to write about this incident from class for a while...

A couple of weeks ago our teacher asked us all to come to class the next time prepared to talk about our jobs. As part of this assignment, we also needed to bring one object that symbolized our jobs. A nice fellow student in her 40's swiftly commented, "Oh, so like if you're a mom you could bring a diaper!" "Si," said our teacher. (Upon which I process for a minute...Ah yes, the diaper, glorious symbol of motherhood!) 

Now, I will not deny that being a mom means dealing with poop. Moms deal with literal and figurative crap from their children quite a bit. In fact I will boast here that at least the literal variety of defecation doesn't really phase me anymore, as long as it's coming from my own children. But would I choose a DIAPER to represent my career choice? Absolutely not! A POOP RECEPTACLE is not an appropriate symbol for MOTHERHOOD.

In fact, just before this incident happened, I had just written down some of my motherhood goals to give more purpose to my life.* Nowhere on my list was anything relating to diapers. So...what did I bring? I chose to bring a pack of ABC flashcards. Then in class, in my best Spanish, I explained how I am a teacher. I am a teacher because I am mother. I teach my children many things. I teach them reading, writing, cooking, and to speak Spanish. I teach them about morality, finances, gardening, to enjoy nature and traveling and about various school subjects. At times, my job is difficult, but it's also interesting and rewarding. And that's where my vocabulary ran out.

I like being a mom. It's not my whole life, but right now it's a lot of it. And it's not a poopy job.



*My Motherhood Manifesto

Teach them to love books
Teach them to love learning
Teach them to love the outdoors
Teach them to work hard
Teach them to eat healthy
Teach them to handle finances well
Teach them another language
Teach them to love the scriptures

Book Club Blues

I love my library. I love that it's 90 seconds from my house. I love that it's pretty and huge. I don't love the librarians, but the children's librarians don't seem to hate kids, so that's a nice start. Anyway...my friend is starting up a book club. I love books. I love getting together in small groups. I would probably love a book club. And yet, at the thought of joining a book group, (club sounds so 12-year-old-ish to me, like the Babysitters' Club), what do I do? I panic. Is joining a good idea? Can I handle a once-a-month commitment? Are the other members going to be a bunch of crazy conservatives? (I can't remember if this is the friend who compared Obama to Hitler on Facebook.) Is this club going to be an excuse to snoop around each others houses and impress each other with our snacks and feel bad about ourselves when we don't compare well? What if no one likes the book I pick?

 

Lame.

 

Me, I mean. Why am I such a worrier? Tonight I went to the first session of a Spanish class at the local rec center. I haven't been to a real class in a while, so last week I was stressing. What if the teacher is scary, what if I can't remember any Spanish, what if I'm the only one there and it's awkward, etc. Then I took some time for a re-think. I love learning. I love the first day of class when the teacher talks about logistics. I love a clean notebook and a fresh pencil. I really want to learn Spanish.

 

This is called "shaping your narrative." The way we tell stories about what has happened, is happening, or is about to happen changes the effect of those happenings. For example, the other day my siblings and I were up at my parents' house talking about epic road trips, in particular the epic-ly bad family road trips we have been on. These included trips with puking, portable toilets, leaving the vehicle to try and hitchhike home, gross hotel rooms, being rained out of camping at 3 a.m. and spending the next day sitting in a laundromat, etc.

 

We could have told these stories with a conclusion that family road trips are a bad idea and we will never do them with our own children. But we shaped our narrative with a humorous twist, and as a result, fondly look forward to similar character-building experiences with our own kids. (I think.)

 

So back to the Spanish class, I shut down my worrying. I changed my story from "Lady who hasn't been to school in a while timidly attempts to learn" to "Lifelong student gets chance to pursue passion."As I admitted to my husband, I was walking down the hall to Spanish class and had these frantic last minute thoughts of "Why did I think signing up for this was a good idea? I don't like new things. I would be happy never trying a new thing in my life," but it turned out really well. The teacher was a nice woman, not a pretentious know-it-all RM, the class had six students, the perfect size for me, and I was one of the better speakers there so I didn't feel dumb!  

 

I read somewhere recently that as immortal souls, we fear becoming stagnant. Motto for the new year: I will try new things!

 

 

 

Burning the Kitchen Down

 

 

 

 

Let me preface this by saying that I've never liked gas stoves. I know professional cooks prefer gas stovetops, but perhaps professional cooks have never experienced the joy of cleaning a flat stove top over gas burners. Or more importantly, considered THE DANGER OF HAVING OPEN FLAMES IN YOUR KITCHEN. !!!

 

I always thought that people who burned down their kitchens were idiots, but now I'm having to reconsider...perhaps they all just had gas stoves.

 

So here's what happened. You know when you turn the gas to a stove burner on, and the lighter doesn't catch for a sec? So it goes *click*click*WHOOSH and flames shoot out when it finally catches because of the extra gas that has come out? Yesterday that happened as I was starting some water boiling. No big deal. I grabbed some salt for the water and looked back at the stove.

 

Apparently, the *WHOOSH had ignited one of those highly flammable plastic bread bags that was sitting on the countertop by the right side of the stove. Aaah! I started pouring salt on the flames jumping around and trying to flick burning debris off my beautiful wood (!) countertops onto the stove. Then the flames ignited my crumpled bacon grease-coated paper towels I had just wiped the stove off with... (I'm sure I was just about to throw them away.) Thoughts: Not the wood countertops! How flammable is the varnish they're coated in?

 

The flames were dying when I glanced over and saw the large roll of paper towels that was sitting on the back burner of the stove halfway covered in flames. Agh! Maybe people who burn down their kitchens are idiots. Why did I put a gigantic roll of fire-starter on my stove? The girls gathered to watch and Cici gave dramatic high-pitched shrieks as I grabbed the towel roll and ran over to the sink, blasting the flames with water. Still holding the salt, I ran back and sprinkled the smoldering bits of paper towel and bread bag on the stove.

 

Then I just stood there for a while and gazed at the post-apocalyptic scene on my gas stovetop...mounds of burnt salt and charred remains floating ashy bits into the air. Cici came over to comfort me.

 

Cici: "Do you need a band-aid? You look like you need a band-aid."  

 

Thank you, Cici.

 

 

*I told Austin I lit our kitchen on fire. He was nice enough to ask if I was okay, but I know what he was really thinking was: Are the wood countertops okay? The answer is yes, only the salt I poured on the flames got burnt and not the countertops. My white cabinets weren't damaged either. It's a Christmas miracle.

 

 

Kitchen Reveal No. 1!

Okay, here's a quick review of what the kitchen looked like when we bought it...

 

 

note tile and lighting...

as well as funky cupboards and absence of upper cupboards...

 

hot dog sink still baffles me...

and finally the butler's pantry.

 

Much later...

 

*By the way, I would have to say that Austin really impressed me in the interim with what he figured out how to do in the kitchen. Recessed lighting, electrical, installing countertops, plumbing, undermount sink, etc. Underneath his suave exterior lies a rugged handyman.

 

Ta-da!

Hey, a real kitchen!

 

With lovely custom walnut countertops that everyone said was a bad idea... 

 

a classed up butler's pantry,

 

with the old chimney brick exposed for character. And for memories of the toasty bird skeleton.

 

This is Kitchen Reveal number one because there is still more to do. Backsplash behind the stove and kitchen sink, open shelving on the wall by sink, and definitely baseboards. Just finishing touches. Still, I think of the people without homes in the Philippines and can't be anything but grateful. Especially for a sink and a stove. Until you go without those two things for a month you don't realize just how nice it is to have them.

 

Fully Operational

I'm pretty sure that tomorrow my kitchen will be fully armed and operational! We got the countertops and sink put in on Saturday and will put the stove and dishwasher in tomorrow. Then...pictures! So, what have I been doing without a kitchen sink, stove, or dishwasher for the past month or so?

When we decided to just bite the bullet and move into our work-in-progress house, I had visions of me using my crockpot, toaster oven, and electric griddle to whip up home-cooked suppers, doing dishes in the bathroom, and spraying pots and pans clean in the hose outside. Glamping, remember?

Well, I still haven't found the box my toaster oven is in, and my griddle, which I did find, is missing its cord, which is probably in that same undiscovered box. These are just excuses, though. The truth is that I've had no time, energy, or desire to make homemade meals and wash my dishes in my bathtub.

People ask what I do without a kitchen, how I manage. My answer depends on who asks. Okay, to everyone but my mother I tell the truth: we eat out a lot. Like every night. Normally I feel guilty about eating out if we're not on a date or something. I wasn't raised that way. I think I ate out with my family twice before I left home for college, not counting McDonalds on road trips. I know that home cooked meals are cheaper and much more nutritious...and yet, we still eat out and use disposable dishes for the rest of our meals. That is how we are managing. I do feel guilty because it's not healthy or cheap, but also not guilty because hey, I don't have a kitchen. So, a breakdown of our daily menu:

Breakfast: Mini-Wheats or Oatmeal in microwave plus gummi vitamins
Lunch: Ham sandwich or Peanut Butter and Jam sandwich, chips, and carrots

(Do I ever get tired of eating the same thing for breakfast and lunch? Not really. I like consistency. In college I ate Malt-o-meal every morning for an entire semester.)

Supper: (Criteria are, can't be too pricey, too hard to take kids to, or too far away.)

Little Ceaser's Pizza (Austin used to hate their pizza. Mysteriously it has grown on him and he now likes it. Plus it's really close to our house.)

Wendy's (Really like their new pretzel hamburger thing, which is a little pricey but so good.)

Cafe Rio (Anything pork. Starting to get expensive though now that the free kids quesadillas aren't filling up our kids.)

Panda Express (Orange Chicken and Sweet Fire Chicken)

Arby's (Roast beef sandwiches for the girls and I, and then Austin has a strange infatuation with their chicken strips.)

Annnnd that's pretty much our rotation. To tell the truth, not having to cook supper or do any dishes for a month has freed up a lot of my time to work on the house and do things with the girls. It's been kind of fun. But it's gotten to the point where we're really sick of eating out. Really sick of it. Too much of a mediocre thing, I guess.