From the Salon

I finally got a hair cut last night.  If you've seen me lately you're probably as grateful as I am.
An hour is a long time to think when then girl cutting your hair isn't very chatty.  Here's some of the randomness:

• When I'm old I want to get a pedicure once a month.  I'll sit in the chair and chat with the young girls and sip my Diet Coke.  Maybe I don't want to wait till I'm old.
• Why is it that every girl I've found in Logan to do my hair that I love moves to Vegas?  Will this new girl get married and move to Vegas too?
• Why is it that a hair cut from a fancy salon always feels better than a haircut from a cheaper salon?  Even if the quality is the same?
• I'm a salon snob.  Even if I can get a cheaper, just as quality cut, somewhere else, I want the fancy decor.  And I'm generally fine paying for it.  When did that happen?
• What determines what we talk about with people who are close to us when we know complete strangers are privy to the conversation?  
• How in the world does she get her hair so big?
• Fluorescent lights always make me look awful, but the girl doing my hair always looks great in the mirror.  What gives?  Is there some trick they teach at hair school?  Do I really just look like that all of the time?
• I think I look like a mom.  When did that happen?
• It's gotten much harder to leave M with a sitter now that I don't do it all the time.  Ironic.
• The amount of dye and product on that really huge, blonde blonde blonde hair must be poisoning her baby.

Jacob was a good dad

There are a lot of things I enjoy about Jacob, the brother of Nephi, in The Book of Mormon. But perhaps my favorite thing I have learned about Jacob is: he was a good dad.  And I didn't even learn it from reading his teachings.  I learned it from reading about his son, Enos.  Don't worry, this isn't a lengthy post about scripture, but rather some things I've been thinking about parenthood, and childhood for that matter.  But the story of Enos helps me get there.  So stick with me for a minute.  Thanks.

We often read the story of Enos as an example of the power of prayer, the miracle of forgiveness, or an example of perfect faith.  It is all of these things.  But it's also a lesson in parenting, and childing (just made that up, you like it?).  In verse 3 Enos says, "Behold, I went to hunt beasts in the forests; and the words which I had often heard my father speak concerning eternal life, and the joy of the saints, sunk deep into my heart."  This tells me that Jacob talked to Enos about the gospel (and probably a lot of other things) a lot.  It also tells me that Enos didn't get it right away.  Maybe he was a typical(ish) teenage boy who rolled his eyes, or maybe he pretended like he wasn't listening or didn't care.  Maybe it was many years before he showed any signs of internalizing the things his father taught.  Maybe Jacob got frustrated, but he kept teaching (often!).  And when Enos finally did get it, he wasn't sitting at the dinner table with his dad.  He didn't tell his dad, "guess what I just figured out!  Thanks for teaching me all that stuff."  He was by himself, in a place where he could commune with God. 

I wonder how often my parents became frustrated thinking I just wasn't getting what they were trying to teach me.  But let me tell you, I think all of the time about the things my parents taught, and still do teach, me. Whenever I see a pile of stuff at the bottom of the stairs needing to go up, I think of my dad telling me how much easier it is to just take it with me when I go instead of stepping over it 800 times.  And sometimes I even take the pile when I go.  My dad may never believe that.  My mom taught me, mostly though example, that cooking isn't rocket science and yeast isn't going to explode and take over my kitchen.  She never saw the fruit of that labor at home.  There are a million more examples, but I'll spare you.

M is only one and I already worry about what I'm teaching her.  Do I talk to her enough?  Do we read enough books?  How can I teach her to share? (Seriously, if you have any ideas on that one, let me know).  Am I teaching her good eating habits?  Does she even know we're reading scriptures?  Worry, worry, worry.  But, Jacob's experience parenting, and my own experience childing, tell me not to worry so much.  Maybe she won't get it now, but she is getting it.  One day we prayed before dinner and she folded her arms, all by herself.  I was so proud.  

I'm thankful Jacob was a good dad and Enos took the time to write about it. 

Count Your Blessings

Sometimes I'm a whiner.  And sometimes it's easier to blog about things that are whiny or hard.  Just easier to write about I guess.  But these things are only a part of my life.  I'm grateful for lots of things too.  And I've been thinking about those things a lot lately.  Thought I'd share some:

I'm thankful I have a baby who:

• Showers me with hugs and kisses.
• Occasionally humors me for a good snuggle.
• Likes books as much as I do.
• Is developing normally.
• Is (typically) not a picky eater.
• Is happy more than she's sad.
• Likes to be outside more than in.

I'm thankful I have a husband who:

• Loves me.
• Respects me.
• Supports me.
• Is home for dinner every night.
• Was there when our baby learned to walk.
• Is happy to come home everyday.
• Changes diapers.
• Does the dishes.
• Loves being a dad.
• Supports our family.

I'm thankful I:

• Have the choice to be a stay at home mom.
• Get to spend my days with M.
• Have a husband who would support me working or staying at home (and live in a time when that's ok).
• Have so many educational opportunities (and a husband who supports me in that...catching a theme here?)
• Have the opportunity to serve in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.
• Have never known what it's like to really go without.
• Am blessed to be able to have more things than our apartment can hold.
• Have friends.
• Have parents who taught and still teach me good things.
• Have amazing in-laws (like I can actually say (and mean) I'm excited when they come visit).
• Learned how to use a library so we don't go broke.

There are a million more things, but I'll stop now.  I guess I live a pretty charmed life.  And I'm thankful for that.

Clueless

It's no secret that I'm typically behind the times in trendy technological developments.  I just got my first iPod last Christmas; I didn't join facebook for an internet eternity, and then waiting a year to actually use it; I didn't even know what a blog was when all of my friends started reading and writing them; I finally gave up using floppy disks in 2006; and I didn't have a cell phone in high school and didn't start texting till, well, that's embarrassing to say. 

Even though I'm generally behind the times, I eventually figure things out and catch up.  But I have to admit that there's one trend I just can't figure out.  What the heck do @ and # mean?!?  So I get that you put @ before a person's name in facebook or a blog comment to signal you're responding to that particular person.  However, I don't see why this is at all necessary.  So I don't do it.  Call me old fashioned.  But the lack of # in my facebook statuses is not a statement (although I don't ever see myself using it), it's a complete lack of understanding.  I don't get it.  I can't figure it out.  I need someone to explain it to me.  Help!  I must be getting old.

Paralyzed

When I worked at the insurance office I would go to work everyday with a specific set of tasks that needed to be performed.  I knew exactly what needed to be done before lunch, by the end of the day, and what could be put off until tomorrow if I was too busy.  I knew I was getting paid $10 an hour to do those things (and I thought I would do anything for 10 bucks when I was a kid).  I knew if those things didn't get done, no one else would do them.  We would get in trouble with underwriters, clients would be upset, and I could lose my $10 job.

When I was a student I knew what I had to do each day to get my work complete for school.  Everything had a specific due date with a specific amount of points attached.  I knew what was most important and what could be put off till later.  I knew I was earning grades that would eventually earn me a piece of paper that would allow me to pay for another piece of paper from the state that would say I was legally qualified and background checked enough to get a job at a school that would pay me more than $10 an hour.  I knew if I messed up I would get bad grades hindering my ability to earn said pieces of paper.

Now I'm a stay at home mom.  I know what needs to be done everyday.  But there aren't enough hours.  I'm not getting paid $10 an hour and no task has a point value attached.  Sometimes I'm paralyzed.  My work is never finished so I don't feel like I can do anything else.  But I don't always feel like working (read: doing the dishes).  So then the work's not done and I'm not doing it and I'm not doing anything else that I want to do.  I had to overcome said paralysis to even write about it (although the my kitchen and living room are clean to total cleanliness right now.  Wait 10 minutes, it will change).  I love structure.  I love having a work day with set hours.  I love due dates and prioritizing with points.  I'm learning how to prioritize and balance a day when I have charge over my time.  Although I've been tempted to set point values to housework I've resisted.  But it's hard.  And it can be discouraging.  And redundant.  And super awesome at the same time.  I guess this whole balance thing is something we have to work on forever.  Because something will always change.  Something else will always need to be done.  And needs and wants will fluctuate till the second coming.

Maybe this is part of the reason my time budget experiment failed.  Because time isn't exactly like money.  You can't save it for something big.  It just keeps going even if you're not doing anything.  You can't predict when you'll be sick, or when a baby just needs to be played with way more than the dishes need to be done.  And some days you'll just spend the whole day in the kitchen.  Or be busy all day and look back wondering what you accomplished.  Or ditch everything and play at the park instead.  And there are no receipts to keep and track.  No accounts to balance and reconcile.  And sometimes you do so much at once you don't know how to write it down.  There is no time credit card or signature loan.  And it's beautiful.  Because it's not the time that matters, it's the people and relationships.  I'm really rambling now and wondering into different posts.  But my brain can't wrap this up all neatly yet.  Maybe it will all come together neatly later, but not right now.  So I'm going to stop.  Just like that. 

From My Pillow

I think I may have solved world hunger, or even cured cancer, this morning.  I was lying in bed after M woke me up to change her diaper at 4am and couldn't get back to sleep.  I do some pretty deep thinking in the dark on my pillow.  And this morning I swore I would remember it all.  I thought my thoughts repeatedly and clearly so as to burn them into my tired brain.  I knew when I woke up at the regular hour this morning I would be full of good things that needed writing.  I guess I need to start keeping a pen by my bed because when I did wake up all I remembered was the need to remember.  Maybe next time. 

p.s.- my time budgeting experiment failed.  Did any of you participate?  Were you successful?  More on that later.