Other fruits

You'd probably have to be from here to understand, but when we moved to the Basin, music was NOT cool.
The high school band was really small - but growing! - the orchestra was downright pitiful.  And the choir? Well, I wouldn't have been caught dead in the high school choir.  Me.

You recall that I was part of a show choir of sorts during high school.  Yes I was; it was sponsored by the college, directed (in part) by my mother, and was one of the best experiences of my school career.  Stagelight has a long history of service, entertainment, music education, and, of course, relationship drama in this community.  One time we tried to count up all the marriages born ....
Still, we were not "cool" by any means, and we had to do quite a bit of convincing to get our peers to even come watch our shows.

Imagine the time we had getting boys to actually join!  Like pulling teeth!  Year after year, we begged and pleaded and bribed.  It was a fantastic success when we had twelve boys and twelve girls to make up a group.

Fast forward seven, eight years.

Things is changin' around here, Laurey!  Maybe not with the high school choir (I wouldn't know), but I'll tell you, a grassroots movement has begun.  And I'd like to take the credit.

Mom, Lana and I are directing Center Stage again, and in four rehearsals we have had EIGHTEEN BOYS sign up to be in the group.  Eighteen. male. high school juniors and seniors.  What are we going to do with them all??
For the first time in history we have more boys than girls.
(And many more boys and girls than we expected.)

The best part is, they can actually sing.  Some are beginners, to be sure, but many others are capable of reading and holding a part.  They're learning the music so quickly we might need to add more.
We are literally shaking our heads, wondering what to do with this group.  We've got to decide soon, because our show is scheduled for December 2nd.

Want to come?


Fruits of our Labors

Despite the sleepless nights and compulsive Pinteresting, I've decided that the nesting instinct is a real blessing.  For a few consecutive months I am motivated to do any and all projects that have been cluttering my brain/house for weeks, months ... even years.
('Cause after the baby comes, you better believe I am doing nothing for half a year. Or longer.)

Case in point: this chair. 

Slice and I bought this chair maybe two years ago at a freight-damaged place in town - still one of the few pieces of furniture we have actually bought.  While we loved the look (and the chair has gotten us more compliments than anything else in the house!), it just didn't match anything we own.  So I've been planning to re-cover it ever since we brought it home.  

Last week I finally did.

My trusty handyman helped with the dismantling: 

Slice helped with some of the stapling and reassembling.  The job did take a little ingenuity - but don't be like Slice and get all surprised at my sewing and problem-solving skills.  Just because I keep them well hidden doesn't mean they aren't there!
The fabric is quite boring compared to the original (I know), but it's also neutral, which is what I wanted for now.  I still have another chair waiting in the garage, and some other ideas up my sleeve.

Not a bad piece of furniture for about $50 total.

Who am I kidding? We LOVE this chair!

Item #2: Right side-view mirror that has been broken since the elk ran into us almost a year ago.
Slice replaced it all by himself.

Item #3: Two bushels of peaches, canned and put away in my cute little pantry.
I have many many fond memories of canning (especially peaches), and this time was no exception.  It is just so fun!  Also, Slice and I doubled our yield from last year so we don't have to ration them quite as carefully.


on Coming to Terms, and Pearls

Years ago I attended a lecture at BYU about the concept "to be."   Yes I did.
The speaker talked all about and around being - for one thing, the admonition "be ye therefore perfect" - and at one point he said something like, "But who ever said that you'll be happy if you achieve your dreams?"

Uhhh, what?

Here's the thing:  I got it.  I understood what he was saying then, and I've understood it ever since.   Dreams aren't everything, and achieving them won't necessarily bring you happiness - especially if they're the wrong dreams in the first place.  Subsequent years have brought poignant reminders of where my true happiness lies.

Which isn't to say I have followed his counsel faithfully.  Indeed, a couple months ago I read this article (thanks C. Jane) and was surprised to find myself in it:
 “They can’t bear the thought that saying yes to one interest or opportunity means saying no to everything else, so they spend years hoping that the perfect answer will emerge. What they don’t understand is that they’re looking for the perfect answer when they should be looking for the good-enough answer.”

Folks, that's me right there. Was? Is?  Hard to say.  I like to keep my options open.  Throughout my school years I was waiting for the perfect answer to present itself, the one career choice (or multiple career choices) that would challenge and fulfill me in every way, while still leaving room for life changes and family.  And, hey, I wanted it for my husband too.

(Newsflash: Doesn't Exist! Work is work and Tiger Woods has problems too!)

Over the last year Slice and I have come to grips with multiple realities: money, time, family, opportunity.  We've had to let go of prejudices and dreams in order to find answers and build other dreams.  It's been a long, slow process.  Often painful.

But we are doing it.  Slice loves his new job.  He really does.  Which is a FAR cry from the misery that was last summer at the golf course BEFORE he got fired.

And, I'll admit it, I love the paychecks.  I love having Slice home almost half the time and seeing him happy the other half.  I love planning dates and trips and investments.
I love the string of (real!) pearls that he brought home for me Saturday, completely out of the blue....



Monday at my check-up the doctor told me I am measuring a few centimeters small.
No big deal, but at this time last pregnancy I was almost a week "big" and so far during this pregnancy I have measured normal.  So I have another check-up in a few weeks to measure again.

I know I've said this before, but I really feel like I should be getting fat by now.  With little exercise and no dietary restrictions whatsoever (quite the opposite!) it is just not fair that I'm staying semi-skinny.  Not fair, I tell you.

BUT - when I stopped to think about it, I realized that I eat most everything in small quantities.  Small meals, small drinks, small snacks, etc.  And we can't disregard the metabolism-power of the Synthroid.
So there's that. I guess.

(Pics from Provo Town Centre mall last weekend.  The kid ran out of Motherhood Maternity and climbed right in this car ... and proceeded to wave at everyone who walked by.  What a celebrity.)


the Mother and the Media

I have watched a grand total of three movies in the theater since I became a mother.
(One was True Grit, and although an excellent movie, is not pertinent to this discussion.)

The others both contain central scenes with babies crying in their beds/homes, watching parents/caregivers die/leave them forever.
Hollywood?  Do you have it in for the mothers out there?

I don't know about you, but motherhood has given me a different perspective on everything.  Media included.  I always find resemblances between these darling movie-babies and my own darling baby, and I'm telling you, it is not pretty.  My heart tears in two.  I leave the theater a wreck, and afterward, the baby scenes play themselves over and over in my mind.  I find myself wanting to run into my baby's room, scoop him out of his crib, and hold him forever.  I want him to know that I will NEVER do that to him.


I know they're just stories -although these things DO happen in real life- and eventually the images in my mind will fade.  But darn this mother heart, it can be a pain sometimes.

(P.S. The Help was great.  As we all expected.)


Unforeseen Consequences

I was browsing through the kids' shoes at Kmart a few days ago, looking for something for Liam.  He's outgrown his sandals and we lost half of his only other pair of shoes (darn those little things), so he has really been needing something.

I looked .... and looked ... and looked ... and found nothing in his size.  NOTHING.  Not a single pair of boys' shoes, that is.  I dug through the mounds of clearance shoes, hoping to find a box with a "5" or even a "6" on it.  Nada.  I scanned over the wall of regular-priced shoes, wondering just what might have caused this strange phenomenon.

And then I remembered.

There's an army of little boys exactly Liam's age.

And, by the looks of it, a horde of girls exactly my little girl-fetus's age ... to come.
(How and why does this happen?? Anyone?)

Good-bye, clearance shopping!



Last week I turned 24 on the 24th.
It was a typical mom birthday, complete with a Subway lunch (thanks Ang!) and Velveeta shells & cheese dinner (thanks honey!) and brownie/cheesecake desserts (thanks Pinterest!).  I made some delicious new recipes and will post them on the Edd blog post-haste, for those who are interested. 

We also had some friends over in the evening to help us eat them (thanks friends!).

I contemplated piercing my ears for the occasion - you know I've been thinking about doing it forever - but of course I didn't get around to it.  Now I'm wondering if this is just the wrong stage of life for it.  Babies pulling on my ears?  More stuff to buy and try to keep track of?  Ouch.

Today I am 26 weeks along, and looky here, I took a picture of myself:
I think I'm about the same size as last pregnancy.  In fact, I FEEL smaller, but probably because the first time I was like "My body!! Not my own anymore!!" and stuff ... you know how it goes.  This time I'm just feeling lucky that I've had it so good.

And speaking of good, I'll have you know that I am staying busy.  The projects this week included sewing some curtains, picking upholstery fabric for my chairs, reorganizing a little, and wall-papering the inside of our bedroom closets.  Why wallpaper, you ask?  Well, why not?

The doors were ugly, the wallpaper was cheap, and the makeover took very little time because I am a wallpapering expert (thanks Mom!).  Also, I love the results.

Please, ignore the clutter because IT WILL BE GONE and/or completely reorganized within a few months.  
Don't you worry.

When the rooms are all done and I am happy with them, I'll post more (and better) pictures.  These are just the in-between pictures, got it?