Things to Think About #3

• A gorgeous New Balance commercial by my friend Cole Webley; like if Terrence Malick made commercials.  Just watch him play with the light, it's like a tangible medium for him.  All of which is made more enjoyable by knowing what an awesome husband and father he is. (So proud of this guy!)
• Being healed of being a big deal. (I just discovered deeperstory.com, and I am so a type 4.)
• The daily routines of famous creators. 
• " I’ve begun to think love is a more pliable thing than we make it out to be. Arthur Aron’s study taught me that it’s possible — simple, even — to generate trust and intimacy, the feelings love needs to thrive." - How to fall in love. 
• The perspective of astronauts: The overview effect. 
• A compelling counter argument to men who feel threatened by feminism. 
• And people besides me noticing the cultural trend to treat children like a luxury item, and the lack of support to parents that follows. 

• Some awesome poster art about great women in science (by Hydrogene)
• Hopefully some good news on the Alzheimers front.  My great-grandmother, a remarkable woman, was debilitated by Alzheimers later in life, and died from complications related to it.  Bunny is named after her.  I'd love to see fewer people go through that wrenching experience. 
• PRI story on the first female doctors in the world, from around the world, who studied at the Women's Medical College of Pennsylvania in 1885. 
• I love the way Jordan sets goals.  And she always, always achieves them, or comes close enough that it's still a successful experience.  She's got the science of using goals to one's benefit down-pat. 
• The (politically charged) tragedy of Jean Seberg.  She was so, so transcendent in Breathless, it's hard not to care about what happened to her. 
• And learning how to grieve in our grief-illiterate culture.
• Speaking of which, Brené Brown is brilliant, even in 3 minute snippets. (The Power of Empathy, illustrated.)

Life Hacks

I am not an expert in efficiency or homemaking, far from it.  But what I am decent at is confronting my shortcomings head-on and finding workable ways to live with them.  Most recently this meant confessing that I would never master an exercise routine until I signed up for classes that require showing up on time. I can show up on time (or at least close to on-time) to a set appointment, but I cannot muscle exercise to the top of my to-do-on-my-own-time list.  As soon as I stopped fighting against my own temperament and weakness, I was able to find a solution that actually worked for me.

So, along the same line of thinking, here are some other life-hacks for Emily.  Things that make my life work for my own often unmotivated or overcommitted self.

     Apps

There are three Apps I rely on profoundly to free up brainpower.  I read once that the best practice is to relieve your brain of having to remember things.  Have a trustworthy system that is outside of your brain that does all of the remembering for you, so that you can use your brainpower to do things your brain is actually good at, because brains are lousy at remembering.

Hence: Cozi Gold.  There is a free version of this app, but I quickly figured out that the paid version was worth it for me. It keeps track of calendaring for each member of my family and I can have it send up to 3 reminders for any given event (sent to any mobile device.)  So I get a buzz from my phone 10 minutes before it's time to pick our gentleman up from preschool, and am only a few minutes late instead of half-an-hour.  (Not that that's ever happened.......er..) I love knowing that my phone will remind me of anywhere I need to be or anything important I need to get done.  It also keeps track of meal planning and shopping lists and birthdays and Christmas card addresses.  It has an option for to-do lists, but I prefer:

Teux Deux (which I use in tandem with Evernote).  Teux Deux lets me list my to-dos in a calendared style, which lets me construct a list for each day, along with options for un-calendared lists.  When I start breaking down larger projects, they usually turn into evernote pages, or sometimes google docs (if they need to be shared with Mr Renn).

Lastly: 1Password.  It's not cheap, but I highly recommend finding a way to keep your passwords diverse, long, and secure, and that does not require you to remember very much.  It makes life so much simpler when you never have to guess what your password is.

     Other things that make my life infinitely less painful

Laying out clothes for Sir O the night before - it just prophylactically avoids fighting against his temperament.  If he lays out his own clothes before bed, then he gets himself dressed first thing in the morning.  If he doesn't, then I'm forcing him into clothes 5 minutes before his friends arrive to walk with him to school.  Sure, it'd be smart to lay out everyone's clothes the night before, but he's the only one for whom it's important enough that I make it happen every school night, come hell or high water.  (Though I do have to lay out my workout clothes the night before for my 6am workouts... having to pick out clothes might be enough of a deterrent to keep me in bed when my 5:25 alarm goes off.)

In an effort to keep my skin and immune system happy, I currently take a lot of supplements.  (Some probably more effective than others).  I have to sort them into an octogenarian-style pill dispenser box and keep it on my kitchen counter in plain sight.  Or I would never ever remember to take them.

In an effort to not have the crepe-y skin of someone 3x my age, I am trying to drink a gallon of water a day.  I rarely succeed, but I start each day with 2  32 oz contigo bottles of water. The first has a scoop of Scivation Xtend (to help me not be stiff as a board after each workout,) and the second usually has some crystal light,  because I stopped fighting myself over my inability to drink a lot of straight water.

Also: epsom salts, in a hot bath, post-work-out.  Usually at least one kid wakes up before I can finish and get dressed, but along with the Scivation, it helps me avoid the crazy muscle stiffness I was battling back in July when I started exercising. Plus it feels indulgent, and sometimes that is a good thing all around.

My routine has an obvious dearth of self-grooming time, so dry shampoo is my savior.  Lots of buns, twists, and ponytails, I try to spray a dry-shampoo on my roots before bed, then again before I brush it out and pull it up.  Far, far from ideal, but since I only manage to wash my hair about twice a week lately, it's being sufficient.

Speaking of buns and twists.  Two words: spin pins.  Game changer for someone with hair as stubbornly straight (and thin) as mine.  Though from what I gather they are amazing no matter what your hair type.

Lastly, to survive 0% humidity in Utah winters I have to have products that work, and have them handy in lots of convenient places.  I own about 40 tubes of Blistex Medicated Lip Ointment, and have one in every coat pocket and purse or diaper bag, plus several for pockets of pants. It works wonders for me and is cheap enough to buy ridiculous amounts of.

I also have to keep tubes of Remedy Nutrashield on hand, because my kids' hands get so dry they crack and bleed if I don't stay on top of them every.single.day.  (Usually last thing before I send them off to school: comb hair, brush teeth, tallow hands.) This stuff is amazing for keeping their hands and mine happy and supple as long as I persist in using it at least once daily. (We also love Remedy's Skin Repair Creme for the Captain's eczema and use it on every single one of us after every bath or shower, year-round).

So, those are some things keeping us all in reasonable order this winter.  What's working for you?  I love nothing more than life hacks that work for those of us with finite energy.

Things to Think About

Another week, and another handful of links I want to remember and share.


image via: Library of Congress

• Tricking yourself into greater productivity. 
• Imogen Heap's first post as a mother.  I love seeing how it changes everything for everybody. 
• Tips for promoting family-friendly-flexibility in the workplace. 
• Lovely thoughts on Epiphany. That quote from Evelyn Waugh was just what I needed. (And Epiphany is our Captain's birthday, so it's a lovely holiday that we don't quite manage to celebrate around here.)
• I liked how this list addressed ethos (emotional/moral as opposed to logical) issues women have with money.  I know this is a reality at my house! 
• Heather Farrell on three Biblical love stories. 
• How to scale back a career (without shooting yourself in the foot... ahem, memo to myself 8-10 years ago.) 
• The open house for this new installation at the BYU Museum of Art is tonight.  It's pretty incredible in person.  
• Better ways to introduce your friends. 

Things to think about.

I have decided that a cliche link round up is useful enough to adopt, even if generic conventions make me uneasy.  How about I keep a record of all the things I read during each week that give me pause and help to shape my thinking?  That doesn't mean I agree with everything I share, it just means that I felt it stretch my mind in some constructive direction.  I hate to risk vulnerability if someone dislikes or agrees with something I share, but hopefully more good than ill will come of it.

*An old TED talk on regret that I found awfully freeing and compassionate.  Plus I've never believed that living without regret was a viable possibility.

*A crystal clear template for setting achievable goals and resolutions.

*Why the World is Not Falling Apart, and statistical validation for my inability to be a news junkie.

* And there were no poor among them. (My opinion on welfare is crazy complex, and still developing.  This was good food for thought).

*This video had me weeping, in the best way.  I suppose it's about the power of music, but more than that the power and gift of interpersonal connection.

* "Our job is to love others without stopping to inquire whether or not they are worthy." Some stunning thoughts on maintaining a Christ-centered home over at Tollipop, where Kirsten is perhaps the most generous spirit in the blogosphere.

*My favorite posts at By Common Consent were both by Russel Arben Fox last week.  Blessings from (really) reading the pentateuch, and an adult's belief in Santa Claus.

*Almost precisely the type of resolutions I need to be making (especially #1!)

*My friend Heather is so awesome that even when she has life shattering experiences, there is still awesomeness in her version of it.

The oddest collapse - in which I obsess over Jane Eyre.

Last week Mr Renn was out of town for a Dental Convention and a convenient visit to his sister and her family.  It was not a huge ordeal, unless you were Bunny, then it was cataclysmic.  (Though I think she has recovered by now.) I got behind on my homework a bit, but I can't really blame it on Mr Renn being gone (directly).  It happened because I let my guard down for a moment of guilty pleasure, which turned out to be dangerously addictive for me.  Suddenly I found myself devoting all sorts of ill-afforded spare moments to the pursuit of it, in a manner that felt totally beyond my control.



So what is it that drug-like guilty pleasure of mine?  I entered the gothic spiral of watching Jane Eyre adaptations.  Over and over again.  As many of them as I can get my hands on, which is at least 8.  Anyone who's ever gotten lost in 19th century chick-lit knows how euphoric this stuff is.  There's a reason there are dozens of Jane Austen festivals the world round, where grown women dress in regency attire and play at belonging to a more autocratic class system (but only in the top tiers!), and women the work over brood endlessly over the moody declarations of love made by upper class, usually wealthy men toward the financially strapped girls they flip over (who are always well bred enough to avoid pursuing even men they love for any reason, certainly never for money, despite the necessity that it is.) 



Frankly I find myself in all sorts of delicious internal conflict as I greedily scroll through various versions, skipping to the most reactive parts. On the one hand, I'm smart enough to know that pretty much all of 19th century British literature is necessarily steeped in empiricist apologetics.  There are more examples of "good masters" and "happy, humble servants" than you can shake a stick at.  The female protagonists manage to do very little, besides wait around for men to do most of the "doing".  Until you get into the social criticism of Hardy, Thackeray and Dickens (and a little bit of it from my dear friend Mrs. Gaskell), most of the popular literature seems pretty overwhelmingly, quietly supportive of the status-quo of its time.  There are usually examples of good and bad nobility thrown in the mix, like some sort of admittance that there are bad ones, but look at how beautifully the system works when our nobility is actually noble!

The social critic in me ruffles at all of that.  The aristotelian pattern of telling the stories of the virtuous nobility over and over again, engraining a system of privilege and oppression soul-deep, it feels inescapably problematic.  There's no way to sit with it as a comfortable friend.And yet, I grew up inhaling these novels like they were gasps of air for my drowning self.  British literary folklore strikes a crazy-deep chord for me, and tends to feel more like home to me than any physical place I've ever been.  The way it struggles between civility and desperation, speaks to my own inner conflicts.  The way that social conventions are usually the source of all narrative woes, especially for women, and yet the solution is never found by defying social conventions.  (Though both Hardy and Thackeray will show you people who try it  and ultimately wind up the worse for the attempt).   There is something about the calm and civilized balance of high spirit and sapience in the heroines that feels so honest to me, living in a more laissez-faire time.  I fear that in my culture, that values freedom as its favorite pet, the very real benefits of gentility, civility, and tradition get chucked like a baby in so much bathwater.  




There are the things that appeal to the Anglophile in me: 4pm teatime, using (real) silverware properly, moving things from place to place on trays in a dignified manner, sitting by fires and having conversation, learning penmanship and social dances, and sending and receiving beautifully hand-written correspondences.  Strolling through gardens, wearing clothing restrictive enough to improve posture, wearing hats, owning very few, but impeccably hand-crafted dresses, and even having the time to pursue talents like fine embroidery, music, and art. I hope I'm allowed to find those things attractive while still acknowledging the silent underbelly of the class system that seems to have supported them.

Then, don't get me started on the dysfunctionality of the relationships presented.  I've been watching Edward Fairfax Rochester mistreat Jane Eyre in 8 different flavors, and all of them taste a little abusive.  The way he's allowed to rant and swoon like a crazy person, but Jane's most redeeming quality is her stoicism, it's a pretty odd paradox that's an easy set up for an abusive relationship, were someone to use it as a pattern.  Of course the way it is written everything works out fine (with phenomenal convenience) but the pattern it sets for real-life people is more than a little bit dangerous.

And yet, there I sit, watching the same three passionate fits of Mr. Rochester performed by 8 different actors.  And finding it ridiculously pleasurable.  It was, I think, the first bout of inedible self-indulgence I've made room for in my life since I went back to school.  I suppose I hadn't noticed how starved that part of myself was becoming, until it caught it's chance and took off running.  And suddenly wearing jeans and a t-shirt feels ridiculously sloppy.  Suddenly I feel like using my best dishes.  Suddenly I'm much more reserved in public because I can't think over top of the melodrama that's pacing circles in my head.  Suddenly I've a nearly irresistible urge to see if I can pick up millinery as a hobby.  Suddenly I've started wearing aprons again.  For all it's sociological folly, a cinematic foray into chick-lit is also fun.

And I'd be remiss to ignore all the protofeminism in Jane Eyre itself.  Despite it's utter embodiment of all things gothic, it did revolutionize the inner life of protagonists.  There's just so much of feelings in it.  Lots and lots of feelings. (Which, really, prove really un-cinematic in some film versions)  Always poetic and inflated and dramatic feelings.  It feels like such an indulgence to me.  And yet there's this centered voice in the midst of the piece.  Always searching for a way to balance happiness and love with duty and morality, it can feel at times so much like my own inner voice (which is also, by the way, prone to dramatics).  Besides of which, Jane's assertion that “laws and principles are not for times when there is no temptation: they are for such moments as this,” is prescient through the ages. 


I commented to Mr Renn that a novel like this could hardly be written anymore, there are so few universal indomitable social laws left that you'd be hard pressed to hold one of them up as an antagonist.  And yet, if there is a place anywhere that has a strict enough socio-moral code to cause the kind of tension that the Brontes weaved into their moors, it'd be right where I'm living, in happy valley, Utah.  Seeing how restriction actually fosters creativity and story, it makes me suddenly more tolerant of some of my least-favorite Utah-isms, if only for the stories their oppression is bound to catalyze. 


So you see, I'm in a peculiar pickle.  Even my guilty pleasures are laden with meaning, making them both more and less guilty at the same time.  But hey, if anyone wants to start a passionate discussion about who makes for the best Mr Rochester, I'm on it. (And my initial reaction is being torn between Timothy Dalton and Toby Stephens, though Michael Fassbender was really great, his version just kept cutting him off, it moves too fast and ends too abruptly. Should I feel guilty for not choosing Welles?) 

Dahl and boys

I have been trying and hoping for an addictive reading experience with my children since before I had any other thoughts about parenting. I was a compulsive reader as a child, utterly addicted to reading since before I could actually read.  It seemed natural to me that I would someday live out the picture of a mother reading to enraptured children.  Until I tried to do it.

I've been reading to my kids their entire existence, but their attention span for it has generally been dicey.  While we easily make it through a Mo Willems book, anything with fewer pictures or more words is apt to lose somebody along the way.  I've read a number of children's chapter books to the boys, but the only person who is engaged for the whole of the story is me.  (Charlotte's Web, all of P.L. Travers' Mary Poppins' books, all the Mrs. Piggle Wiggles, Half Magic, Young Buffalo Bill, etc.)

But just before Christmas I saw the giant boxed set of Roald Dahl books at Costco, the Phizz-Whizzing Collection, and I remembered having heard a comment about how the potty humor in the BFG was more effective at getting boys to read than anything else anyone's ever tried.  I bought the whole lot, knowing I'd have absolutely nowhere to put them (we are pretty direly out of bookshelf space at this juncture) and they were one of too many gifts under the tree Christmas morning.

It happened that a few days after Christmas one of the boys wanted to read one, and Sir O picked Charlie and the Chocolate Factory to start.  2 pages in and the magic finally happened.  Every one of the boys was utterly engrossed.  At the end of each chapter they begged me to go on.  Hours slipped past us like minutes.  They would have read it all in 1 sitting if I'd let them, but it worked out to be just more than 2 sittings.  Then they immediately demanded Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator,  (You should have seen them sitting still and barely breathing through those Vernicious Knids!) which we've almost finished.

I am having so much fun with this that I can hardly stand it.  I have to hide my excitement for fear of jinxing myself.  (Because you know if Sir O realizes how much I'm enjoying this then my uncool mom-ness will taint the experience for him.) But to finally experience really reading a book with my kids feels like I'm checking something pretty major off of my bucket list.

Never mind how much my pragmatic mind resists Dahl.  I have a dozen, "but that could never happen because x(physics),y(biology),z(chemistry)" thoughts every chapter.  Then I have to reign in my natural killjoy and remind myself that it's a perfect level of literary freedom for little boys of 3,5, and 7.  They're at a perfect place to thrill at the idea of not being bound by laws of nature.  They laugh at all the joyfully naughty parts.  It's really a match made in heaven.  A perfect gateway drug.  This odd duck Dahl understood little boys like mine better, perhaps, than I do.

Let me entertain you

You know what is magical?  Free babysitting.

It's also mystical and scarce. Trickier to come by than a leprechaun.  Says me.

So, I am not above recognizing this recent conglomeration of circumstances for the miracle that it has been.

Some neighborhood preteen girls decided that they love to dance so much that running a (free) dance camp for all the neighborhood short people was a good idea. (?!?!) For 2 hours a day for an entire week I got to drop off ALL of my boys for 2 hours and then pick them up happier and more tired-out than I'd left them.  It was awesome.



The cherry on top was the "recital" at the end of the week.  Just try to imagine the scope of this project and the end result is pretty impressive.  Way to choreograph, girls.


And coincidentally, watching our gentleman "dance" is one of my favorite small pleasures in life.  Luckily the kid busts out bouncing anytime he hears anything remotely musical.




This has definitely been one of my favorite tender mercies of the summer.

The Perfect Swaddle

This little trick has saved my life and my sanity during the newborn stage.  This greatness must be shared.  (Pardon my inability to get my kids to behave like professional models and cameramen.)  It works best with a gauze swaddling blanket, but I was taught how to do it with a flannel one, so it's flexible!

And because that might be confusing - yes we attempted a video version.  No, it did not turn out in the polished version my mind had envisioned.  But when does anything ever turn out the way I envision?  Still, it may prove demonstrative.

Sneak a Peek: My Makeup Bag -part 1

I am no expert, but I have had a few questions in this direction lately.  I gave myself permission to take my skincare and makeup routine more seriously after our Gentleman was born.  If you're not an adult after you've had three kids, then I don't know what you're waiting for.  I decided I didn't know what I was waiting for, and I began to search in earnest for products I actually love.

First up is skincare, and I have the moodiest skin in all the world.  The smallest blips of sleep deprivation, stress, germ exposure or changes in hormones or climate cause me embarrassing breakouts and ample scarring.  Here's what is working well for my sensitive skin in Utah's dry climate:



1. My Clarisonic Mia.  It took me a long time to decide to bite this bullet.  It is not an inexpensive tool, (especially with buying replacement heads every 3 months) but with skin as high-maintenance as mine, I decided I ought to be doing everything I can to reduce scarring.  While it doesn't altogether eliminate breakouts, it has made a remarkable difference, especially in the severity of breakouts and the length of time they are camped out on my face. (I've been using mine for about 8 months now.)

2. Clarins Gentle Foaming Cleanser.  I got a sample of this with a Sephora order last year, and in conjunction with my clarisonic it leaves my face oh-so-happy.  I never have any makeup residue left behind after this gentle but effective combination.  It lathers up so well that I only need a tiny bit and it works great and smells great - clean but not like it's laden with artificial "clean" scents.

3.  I make my own eye-makeup remover.  It works nearly as well as anything I've purchased and is nearly free to make if you've got a baby floating around.  I fill this 7-ish ounce container with water and add two squirts of tear-free baby wash, then shake really well.  If I find it's not working well enough, I add a bit more soap.  I use the cotton-rounds from Costco for this - they are remarkably solid and never shed or pill or fall to pieces on me.

3.5  Not pictured here is my sensitive skin astringent.  I am trying to wean myself from the stuff because it dries out the less-oily portions of my face (I do live in a desert...) I'm hoping to try this as an alternative soonish.

4. Eye cream - I'm currently using Lanocreme Eye Cream, but I'm not married to it yet.  I've yet to fall in love with an eye/skin product, but I do believe in using one!  I usually pick something out at TJMaxx when I'm running low.  It's a cheaper way to experiment with higher-end skin care products.

5. For Day - Origins VitaZing Moisturizer.  It was very highly recommended to me and I've liked how my skin responds to it.  It is expensive enough though that I'd be willing to try something else if it sounded like a good fit for my finicky skin.

6. Sephora Age Defy Night Moisture Cream.  This stuff is about the consistency of cold cream, but it smells way better.  My skin practically purrs at me after a light application of this, and I do mean light. The jar will last me for.e.ver.

7. Bio-Oil - for really dry days and for trouble areas.  It's also purported to help reduce scarring, I haven't been using it long enough (or paying enough attention) to say how effective it is at that, but it's remarkable to me that I can use an "oil" product without my skin flipping on me.  (Coconut and almond oil both sent me into an acne blitz)

8. I am a huge proponent of all the products from Medline/Remedy,  they are the very best form of preventative skin care out there.  My mother, who works for a homecare and hospice company, was introduced to them as an aid for preventing bedsores, they have been a huge help for my dad's skin (he was in an explosion years ago that caused severe burns and necessitated skin grafts) and I cannot tell you how much their products help with the Captain's eczema.  We buy their skin repair cream in giant 32 ounce bottles and it's our go-to body lotion for every member of the family.  It's safe for babies too, so I use it instead of baby lotion, and the repair cream has a nice citrus smell to it, though no ingredients are added just for the sake of scent.

9. Mentholatum Ointment - My mother has been using this stuff for ions, and I have found no better multitasker.  Mr Renn and I both use it on our lips at night preventatively and never have any problems through the bone-dry winters.  I also use it in lieu of vapo-rub and the menthol in it will clear up stuffy sinuses pretty well too.   It also tastes awful, so I've been rubbing it on our Captain's fingers in a desperate attempt to curb his most recent bad habit of chewing on them.

10. On days when I find my hands in water every hour I am really glad I splurged on some L'Occitane Hand Cream.  It definitely is a spurge, but one that determinedly pulls its weight.  If I use it at the first sign of dry knuckles or tight sandpapery skin, everything seems to smooth itself over so that my hands never get a chance to turn raw.  And it's so prettily packaged that it's always a pleasure to pull it out.  If I'm careful I can make a 5 ounce tube last 6 months.

One particular little moment

FYI all...
I got my hospital pictures from Sam, and they are the coolest thing ever.
Well, other than the part where it's hard to look photogenic when one is in labor.  (Understatement, anyone?).



Mr Renn has declared them to be the Gentleman's Christmas present.



Worth every penny.

Every Little Moment

(My apologies for the redundancy to my facebook friends)

A mere 10 days ago, I was lucky enough to have a whirlwind maternity session with Samantha and Aubrey of Every Little Moment Photography.  They were nice enough to squeeze me into a very full day, probably because  Samantha is my cousin and it's hard to tell a massively pregnant lady no.  My friend Leith spoiled me with a professional make-up session (a.k.a. miraculously erasing both my pregnancy acne and the perma-circles under my eyes) and we trekked out to a quasi-spooky abandoned farm in Pleasant Grove.

I have to admit that I look at these and think "Whoa, I am huge."  This is why I've not been posting many photos of myself lately.  I'm not that secure.  Luckily, despite my hugeness, these are pretty.  I lurve the talented people that made them so, because gobs of talent were involved, and required, to get this result.

Tender Mercies: Sir Wonderful

Amidst lots of craziness around these parts of late, Sir O has really stepped up to the plate. He's started surprising me with his empathy, thoughtfulness, and capacity for self-containment. He's still thoroughly a preschooler and a boy, and that's just as it should be, but I'm getting glimpses at the person he can become, and it makes me swell up inside with pride. (good pride)



He's taken to coloring with fervor, tucking his stuffed animals in at night, and taking a keen interest in keeping his brother pacified.



He's been making me feel like my job is do-able, and that there are short-term rewards for me while I'm in the trenches. They're just moments, but they're wonderful!

my squee

image by pgjennielove

I'm so excited I can hardly stand it.
And nervous.
After a tremendous amount of hemming and hawing and mulling over and vacillating between being excited and feeling way too insecure..... I am going back to school.

Sort of.

I'm officially registered for all the core courses to complete a Certificate of Merit in Floral Design.
Which is a very different direction from my previous formal education.
But oh my goodness how good it feels in my soul to think about the tactile experiences that await me!
Although I'm nervous about memorizing scads of flower types. I haven't used that part of my brain in a long long time.

I'm so happy that there are people who love me enough to facilitate such an awesome opportunity. I threw the idea out into the world of things-said-out-loud with very little hope for actualization. It's my own mini-miracle. Even class times have mysteriously changed to work better with our schedule so we won't need as much babysitting.

Come June the flowers may take over my blog.

In 1979...

Not only was Mr Renn born, but the movie The Black Stallion was released.
Yesterday Sir O watched it 3 times in a row.
I think he's in love.

I always hoped my kids would love this movie. It's perfect for the not-entirely-verbal set because the first 40 minutes of the movie contain less than 5 minutes of dialogue. It's all visual communication, which is exactly what they understand.

Besides which, it was fantastic to have something non-{obnoxious &} animated hold his attention.

Tender mercy, wanted to share.

Preggo Eye Candy

Sweet Chell offered to do these fabulous maternity shots for me, and I had to go and wait until it was 20 degrees outside to take her up on it. Sheesh, self!
At least I made it happen while I was still pregnant, right?!


Didn't she make me look good?! I love people who can make me look good! Especially when they are willing to do it in stocking feet in the snow! (Okay, that was only for a moment, but I was feeling the love!)

On marriage in general, and mine in particular

The nice thing (okay, one of them) about being married is that it matters less what everyone "else" thinks. You really have just one person to please, and one person that you need to have agree with you (on important stuff). Once you've got that one person on your side it doesn't really matter if anyone wants to disagree from the outside. The inside is all solidarity.
Mr Renn and I generally do a great job of agreeing about important things. There are a few issues that still rear their heads on a near-daily basis, but the vast majority of these are typical gender issues. (Like the "If you were listening when I was talking then why can't you remember what I just said?" issue.)
Luckily, we also agree on some bonus stuff, and that is just fun.

And we complement one another terribly well. Mr Renn can make up for my total inability to make small talk, and I can make the effort to maintain deep and meaningful long-term friendships. Mr Renn can tackle the messes I'm too tired to even see at the end of a pregnant day. And generally, if one of us is losing patience with Sir O, the other of us just happens to have a generous amount of patience on-hand. It works great.

It's kind of crazy to think we've been married almost 5 years. On the one hand we can't quite remember what it was like not being in the middle of each other's lives. On the other hand, we both still feel like we're in our early 20's, until we realize that the people we know in their early 20's seem awfully young to us. I guess we are getting old and we're okay with it.

Mr Renn and I back in the early days of dating. You know, the kind without kids or babysitters.

I'm smart enough to know that I'm lucky. I'm not smart enough to remember to feel lucky all the time, but very few people are. I'm learning, I expect that's what I'm here for.

I remember having a distinct impression (in the Temple actually) during the time when Mr Renn and I were hemming and hawing about taking the plunge and becoming parents. We're going to be good parents. Our kids are excited to belong to us, and they are wondering why the heck we aren't more excited to belong to them too. There are so many sad conditions that so many children are born into. The world needs more people raised in homes like ours.

Yeah, I realize that sounds potentially big-headed, boastful, and even ignorant. But hey, they weren't thoughts coming from me. They were put there by Somebody else. And I'll be the first person to volunteer that good parenting does not necessarily equal children who make good decisions. And to me "good" parenting boils down to more or less a matter of trying. If you actually care whether you're a good parent or not, you probably are one. Still, that impression is what got the ball rolling. And it was a good thing, because it turns out we aren't the sort of people who can "pick" what month or season our kids will be born. (Do you think a sane person would choose to have a baby in January in the frigid NorthEast?) God is just so dang good at His job. I love knowing that He knows exactly what I need, and gets it to me. (whether I want it or not)

Mr Renn just came in to get ready for bed. He checked on Sir O in bed first, and commented to me, "We have a sweet boy."

That about sums up my life, and everything I love about it.
I hope your life is sweet too.

30 Weeks: ginormous + grateful = ginormously grateful

The expansion of my middle region marches on.
This is a good thing.
It is also remarkably uncomfortable. But it doesn't involve much puking, so I am not terribly inclined to complain. Although it is a quandary how to respond to the ever-asked "how are you feeling?". Um, pregnant?


Other than a few little things I seem to handle late pregnancy quite well. Running out of breath constantly, struggling with getting up and down, braxton hicks contractions, and less-than-stellar-sleep are pretty much part of the package deal for anyone's pregnancy. Nobody loves them, but they don't render your entire being useless and miserable like nausea does.

I guess it's the perspective that makes all the difference.


Isn't that always the case?


I've had a decent dose of perspective lately, and Sundays are always marvelous for calibrating perspective, and it's November to boot. AND I've decided that perspective and gratitude are two sides of the same coin.


So I'm going to wax grateful. I know, everybody's doing it. So what? Can you think of a more awesome fad?

I have decided that I'm incredibly lucky that Mr Renn loves what he does. He still comes home and is excited to tell me about his day and what he's learned and been able to do. He still thinks dentistry is cool, and after all the hours and dollars that are going into this dental school gig, that makes it all worth it.

I have decided that I love Sir O's rambunctious nature. I love it all the more because he has to try so hard to be a good boy. And he does try. I love him for trying, and I love him for failing sometimes.


I love it that Sir O and the belly monster have such a great dad and male role model. I really believe it makes such a difference for a boy to learn what a man is and does and should be from someone who is actually doing their best. I love it that Mr Renn is teaching our boy(s) that real men give their boys hugs and kisses and say "I love you" a lot. (And also that real men make their wives breakfast in bed, do the dishes, sing in choirs, and write thank-you notes). Very manly, don't you think?


Mr Renn and I spent our Sunday afternoon reading an article in Seeing the Everyday Magazine. (Which I have decided is practically perfect in every way. If you're looking for Christmas gift ideas for a thoughtful parent-type person, look no further - Design Mom raved about it here and here). The article was about family work - how imperative work within the home is for building family relationships and character. Then I remembered an article on family work from this book, (from a class I took at BYU) and we started reading that too.

As much as I know that no amount of planning and setting goals can prepare you for what life brings, I still feel like it's important. And I like it that Mr Renn and I are able to discuss details of how we want our family to function, knowing we will fall short of our ideals. It fills me with faith instead of fear.

It also gives me the strength to pop a squat on the floor and play trains one more time. And that's saying something.

An important service announcement

Way back in April I mentioned this documentary. My college friend and bridesmaid started documenting Soldiers who'd returned from the first rotation of service in Iraq way back in 2003 (including my cousin). This turned into a massive, massive project as she realized she'd stumbled upon something important and perhaps unexplored. What's the best way to support our troops? How's that for an important question? So check out Reserved to Fight.
I'm super-excited to watch this. It's already started broadcasting in some places. Check out your local PBS listings and make a note to watch it. It's gonna be good.

As for me, it already aired on the 28th here (which is technically before it was supposed to... but oh well). The only other time it's playing here is at 5am on Sunday, so I'm going to have to find a friend with a Tivo. Any volunteers?

Confession

I listened to Christmas music today.
But hey, when it's something as lovely as this it seems wrong to limit the listening to one month of the year.
Besides, I needed to get myself in a warm-fuzzy happy place. My new (not particularly friendly) downstairs neighbors have started smoking indoors and I'm all sorts of worked up over it.

But that's all I'm going to say about that. Back to the happy thoughts and Christmas music... la la la la I can't smell you.... la la la.

It almost works.

27 weeks and scrabble tiles

Haven't been sleeping well. Funny how that colors every other aspect of your life.
And boy howdy have I had some wild pregnancy dreams! Disturbing and stressful ones generally. Oftentimes involving adults in my life throwing tantrums like 2-year-olds.


How many times have I mentioned how much I love Etsy? Especially for jewelry?
Checkout my latest favorite, made by HomeStudio. (It's a scrabble tile... coolness).