Sunrise, Sunset

After a later than usual night last night, Jeff and I were awakened in an unpleasant way just before 5am this morning. Rose walked into our bedroom and said "I need to throw up." You don't need permission to throw up! GO TO THE TOILET AND DO IT! She dashed to our toilet and the rest of the sleep fled from our eyes as we listened to the unpleasant gagging noises emanating from the open bathroom door. Just like that, the rest of my week changed. I was going to babysit for a friend on Wednesday and Thursday, but I cancelled that just in case. I was going to go to the grocery store today, but I stayed home. Movies and rest all day at our house! Even though I am not sick, my miniature night sleep has made it easier to take the day slowly. I am dressed in a loose flannel shirt and leggings with large wool socks pulled up over top. I finished my piano practice and businesslike bill paying by 9am, and then snuggled in for a Cozy Home Day. I turned on a movie for the kids and faced with two hours of free time I found myself thinking "now what?"

Soon after that pause, my best friend on the whole entire planet (Laurs) called and we TALKED for an HOUR! It was the absolute BEST. Her family moved to the U.K. a year ago and that 8 hour time difference has made phone calls tricky. But today was one of those rare times where the stars aligned and we got to talk for a solid gold hour. We jumped past the "how's the family?" stuff straight into the Life and Its Challenges stuff. We discussed Things, Problems, Plans, and Dreams. We encouraged each other. We listened to each other. We sympathized with each other. We shared thoughts, feelings, hopes, and concerns with each other. Eventually we zoomed back out to the "guess what Amber did?" stuff. The entire conversation was soul-feeding and uplifting. Friendship with a true kindred spirit is such a gift! My heart is still glowing and happy in the aftermath of our phone call.

These happy vibes make me feel brave enough to share a bit of my journal entry from last night. I have a bosom friend, so I don't care if the wider world thinks I'm weird! Hah, lately I have been reflecting on getting to know people, feeling a part of groups, and the role that vulnerability plays in that process. Sometimes I think deep thoughts for fun, and I spent and hour chasing these ideas onto paper last night:

In the wake of my debut as primary pianist, I was semi-joking with Jeff about how at least 75% of my most terrifying experiences have been at church. I also pointed out how being put in a vulnerable position--whether by giving a talk, falling desperately ill, running exhausting workouts, or serving in a tough position--has helped me feel more like a part of a group/team/ward than anything else. What is it about that vulnerability that integrates me into a group/ward/team family? I have a few theories:

1. Being vulnerable dampens my awareness and concern over my social awkwardness. I can't think/worry about what to say and how to interact with people when I am too busy dealing with the more pressing vulnerable dilemma at hand (church talk, sickness, hard calling, hard workout etc.). 
2. Being vulnerable shows my "extremity" to others and lets them know that I am weak/accessible/not invincible. People can relate more to weakness more easily than they can relate to intimidating displays of talent and strength. I know I do! 
3. When others see that vulnerability/extremity in me, and watch me work through it, we create a shared experience. Whether they are serving me, serving with me, or simply watching me, they go through my journey of dealing with the challenge right along with me, and that forges a bond. Shared experiences build relationships, and it seems that the more challenging the experience, the deeper the resulting bond is.
4. Vulnerability strips me down to my essence. This is who I am. This is how I am. This is the best I can do when I feel inadequate. I am too cornered to be anything but my SELF. It's a fast track to getting to know the "real me." There is no room for fluff or superficial small talk during vulnerable moments, just a spotlight on my soul. 
5. Upon learning that I am feeling inadequate/vulnerable, others' response is nearly always sympathetic and encouraging. Cheering each other on is what teammates do. It creates a "kindness loop" where you cheer for me, and I encourage you, and the positive cycle keeps on rolling along. Kindness strengthens respect, and respect encourages kindness--all good things for feeling a part of the group.
6. Multiple vulnerable moments within the same group (e.g. a ward, team, or one-on-one friendship) stretch my social rubber band to the limit. The post-vulnerable relief relaxes the rubber band and that extra elasticity makes subsequent social interactions within that group (ward) feel less tense/awkward for me. (Too bad knowing this "social rubber band" trick does not make those stretching moments any less tough!)

How's that for a clinical self-evaluation? I wanted to jot these theories down because they amuse and intrigue me. While I never took a psychology class (unless you count sports psychology), I still enjoy learning about my own personality classifications: introvert (99%), HSP (highly sensitive person), INTJ (Introversion, iNtuition, Thinking, Judgement). INTJ is the rarest Meyers-Briggs personality type. Learning about these basic personality traits helps me gain self-perspective, learn invaluable self care, and continue on my self-empowering quest to treat my uncommon inborn traits as strengths rather than weaknesses.

It's fascinating how many times the vulnerable, humbled feeling I get when I: 

• am in front of people, 
• do something hard/scary, 
• need service 

...has transformed awkward social discomfort to calm social comfort. It happened way back on my college cross country team, with an emphasis on the physical exhaustion end of the vulnerability spectrum. It happened in our previous ward family when I went through two debilitating pregnancies and needed constant daily service from the Relief Society. It happened in my beloved old book club where we ventured to keep showing up and sharing opinions and eventually getting so used to each other that we were comfortable with pajama movie nights. Stretch, relax, stretch, relax--following this pattern regularly over and over loosens muscles over time: leg muscles, arm muscles, and social muscles. 

[end journal entry] 

Last weekend we had some glorious displays in the sky. The sun set one night and rose the next morning with such depth and beauty that I brought the good camera outside twice, back to back and tried to take pictures of it. I had planned to share some insight from General Conference with these pictures because that kind of thing seems to GO with glorious skies, but I am still studying and digesting the conference talks and have not emerged with any profound inspirations beyond favorite quotes yet. "Remember to put Jesus Christ at the center of your day today." was an unlikely favorite sentence from the conference. It seems so obvious, but that last word, TODAY, tacked onto the end is what makes this line stand out to me. Putting Jesus Christ at the center of my life in general is more of a general good idea than a specific call to action. But remembering to put Jesus Christ at the center of my life TODAY demands an immediate response, a decision to act right now. How will I do that today? 

Sunset on October 1, 2017:

Sunrise on October 2, 2017

{shivering in my Crocs and llama-mama-pajamas}

I am thankful for the daily reminders of God's love written in the sky.

Debut

Today was my debut as the primary pianist at church. It was messy and equal parts terrifying and embarrassing, but I survived. Notes were played. They weren't anywhere close to all the right notes, but I did my best. Before church while I was working to keep my nerves toned to manageable levels so I didn't get sick to my stomach, I said a short prayer--a short desperate prayer that left me slightly in awe of how sheer desperation funneled into prayer has yielded some of my most meaningful personal lessons.

Instead of praying not to mess up (I believe in miracles, but I also know that God works with what he's got), I prayed for peace so I wouldn't be too tense or shaky to play the few songs I did know. Then I said "please help me do my best and be ok if my best is full of mistakes." When I said those words, their wider application struck me immediately. A quiet dose of love and understanding entered my heart. It was the Spirit, teaching me about Life. We go along through life, doing our best but still making mistakes. I have always accepted mistakes as a part of living and learning. I don't expect to be perfect in life; I only expect to give my best effort. When I make a mistake, I know I can keep on trying again and that's all that is expected--my best is all I can give, and it is enough. If my best efforts are enough for God, they need to be enough for me too.

Interesting how I never applied that knowledge to music before. I've always been too busy worrying about perfection because that's the golden musical standard that so many mere mortals actually achieve. Music does not come naturally to me and I have never come close to achieving perfection with anything musical. But I have always kept on trying because I expected that it was bound to happen eventually. One day I would arrive at that mysterious destination, and suddenly music wouldn't be hard anymore. I have always felt like a second-rate musician because I never got past that expectation of eventual perfection. It is important to work hard toward my goals, but if perfection (or even near-perfection) doesn't come, it's equally as important to embrace those imperfections and do my best to move forward anyways. 

"Please help me be ok if my best is full of mistakes." The answer I felt didn't tell me "it will be ok because you won't make mistakes." It wasn't an empty "you'll be fine--stop worrying about it." Instead it was "I love you for doing your best even though it terrifies you to make those mistakes in front of so many people. You will be ok, and you will learn to handle it little by little, one week at a time."

A divine vote of confidence not in my skill, but in me and my ability to try my best, to keep on giving my best even if it was full of mistakes, gave me peace. I did not feel completely cool and collected sitting at the piano during primary, but I also did not have that quaky gut-clenching tenseness that impedes my piano playing. That is enough peace to be getting on with for now.

The sister missionaries came over this week to help me practice by singing while I played primary songs. Everybody needs to practice piano with sister missionaries behind them, encouraging and saying good job after every song. It was so nice, in spite of my crippling nervousness! They were so sweet to leave me a note on the piano at church today.

These three looked especially bright and sweet walking into church today.

Now if I can just stop replaying my myriad of awkward piano mistakes from today over and over in my head, I will be able to get back to practicing. 

Sunfair, State Fair

Amber is an only child on weekdays again. I am no longer babysitting--the family found a more flexible babysitter who could come to their house, and my last day on the job was Friday, September 29th! Life moves so fast: a curve here, a mountain there, some bumps, sometimes followed by a long breezy downhill. Amber and I are absolutely loving our time together once more. I didn't realize how much I was leaving undone during the five and a half hours of babysitting each day until this week when that time was my own once again. I have been bustling and busy trying to catch up on little things like laundry folding and thrift store visits. After four days of figuring out our new normal, Amber and I are finally beginning to settle into a pleasant groove. She is such a lively little companion, always making sure I know she's HERE. Yesterday I was buried in cub scout activity preparation and she resorted to painting the bathroom cabinets with toothpaste to get my attention.

Saturday, September 30th was another cross country meet. It was at Franklin Park in Yakima, called the Sunfair Invitational. The races coincided with the final weekend of the Central Washington State Fair, so even though the kids and I were still tired from our day trip to Seattle two days prior, we got up early and spent the day in Yakima to support the Grizzlies and their smokin' hot head coach, and also to explore our first state fair. I have been putting this post off all week because I was just so tired all that long day on Saturday, and it makes me tired to think about it. But the meet included a kids' race as well as an adult community race so we simply couldn't be passive bystanders. We warmed up our tired legs and raced!

The first race of the day was the kids' race, at 8:45am. We left home at 7:30am and cut it very close, arriving at the last minute and grabbing their bib numbers. A race official ran us toward the start line. I pushed Amber in the stroller across the bumpy grass as fast as I could, but the race started before we reached the line. So the nice race official had Jay and Rose wait at a gap in the fence until the main pack of kids in the race had thundered past, then she had them merge into the river of runners so they still got to race. I figured since we were running across the park when the gun went off, they still ran the full one mile distance, even if it wasn't exactly the same course as the rest of the kids.

 Rose beat Jay. Always a bit of a touchy subject between them...

 Jay did have a waistband problem: his pants were too loose and kept sliding down! Poor guy, but we were laughing our heads off (quietly, when he wasn't looking of course). The first thing Jay asked when he saw us cheering for him was "is it almost over?" The race was barely half done! He asked in such a miserable voice, with one hand on his waistband, that I started laughing all over again. Cute boy.

 Finish chute chaos.

 Ribbons! Rose got a "top 50" finisher's ribbon, and Jay got a participant ribbon.

 Stroller/lawn chair

After the kid race, we played on the playground and hung out with the cross country team, occasionally catching glimpses of their amazing coach as he dashed around getting people in the right places and recording mile splits. A few hours later, we moseyed across town to the fairgrounds to check it out. Jeff had procured a set of free entry tickets from the ag teacher across the hall at school, and I figured with a free entrance we had nothing to lose. I figured wrong. It turns out we are not "fair people." (no pun intended) People were swarming the gaudy crowded stands lining the road, and all five senses were accosted the minute we turned down the first isle. I wanted to turn around and leave the minute we entered with the throng, but we had walked so far from our parking spot, and the kids had never really seen a fair. So we persevered. It was lunchtime and I had failed to pack us a modest set of PBJs. My poor planning drained my cash supply and I took a quick wallet inventory as the kids ate their greasy fair food. I did not get anything to eat because I had a 3 mile race looming on the afternoon horizon. Arg, I delayed writing this because I know there are plenty of perfectly respectable people who really enjoy fairs, and I don't want to sound snobby or grumbly or rude. Fairs are just not my thing. Ugh. I'm feeling peeved just writing about it.

So I forked over half a week's food budget for a couple of corn dogs and then we walked around seeing what we could see. I had just enough cash left for the kids to choose one ride. Rose wanted to do the Ferris wheel, but Jay is scared of heights, and I couldn't bring Amber on it anyways, so we landed at the merry-go-round. First a long line at the ticket window. Then another line at the merry-go-round. At last we were spinning around in dizzying tight circles on the small junky contraption--music not included, though the loud blaring speakers and screams from the ride next door were. I think the kids liked it ok. I felt motion sick after the first revolution!

After the ride we walked over to the place we should have started: the barns. We went through several barns, admiring the cows, horses, sheep, pigs, chickens, bunnies, turkeys, pigeons, etc. They actually had pigeons at the fair! In spite of my significantly lightened wallet, we were all feeling pretty tired by this point so we hiked back out to the car and drove back to the cross country meet. The parking attendant was surprised to see us. Well, she was actually a citizen selling spots in her yard for $5 parking. "Leaving already?" she asked. "YES!" I replied emphatically. When she looked affronted, I softened my response with a "we have to get back to the cross country meet at Franklin Park." And with that, we were outtathere in a cloud of dust.

It felt so heartland-ish and yet so...bleh. Haha, I just don't like crowds of people and ridiculous pricing.

 Merry-go-round! Jay called it a car-oh-sell. I love when he pronounces words wrong from reading them rather than hearing them.

 Amber's curls were blowing in the breeze created by the surprisingly fast spinning of the merry-go-round.

 We concluded that our Rose is cuter than theirs.

 Unfortunate name of this poor creature. Why not just call it a hamburgerlo and get it over with?

 Rose loved the fuzzy bunnies.

 Jay called the turkeys bird-zillas. They were so huge and fascinating to stare at. From a safe distance--the kids would not get close to any of the fences or cages! Their caution cracked me up. Maybe my horse-full childhood made me brave.

A bunny girl and her Ferris wheel dream. It was a gorgeous day and I joined in her wishfulness over riding the wheel into that big blue sky. 

 If we ever go to the fair again, we'll bring backup so I can ride the Ferris Wheel with Rose.

Back at Franklin Park, the meet was well underway. The grassy course was flattened, well trampled by hundreds of toiling feet. We arrived just in time to watch our favorite freshman girl race (she's in our church ward). I taught Amber how to say "go Kaylee!!" and "you've got it, Kaylee!" and we made her smile when she ran past. Eventually the last race of the day rolled around, and I found myself in a well-used port-a-potty changing gingerly into my running shorts. Jeff and I left the kids on the playground with dire commands of "don't let Amber escape!" to Jay and Rose. Then we toed the faded start line and used the last of our energy racing on the hilliest cross country course I've run since college. Ok, it was one of the only cross country courses I've run since college, but it was very hilly and the hills were reflected blatantly in my less than speedy time. Jeff's 17:15 beat my 24:02 by over seven minutes. Seven minutes over three miles...yeah.

Every time I passed the playground area on the curvy loop-de-loop course, I searched out Amber's curly head to make sure she hadn't run off or been kidnapped, and after the first mile, Kaylee's mom/my friend saw my craning neck from the sidelines and assured me while cheering me on that she had her eye on Amber. My mind was set at ease and I was free to consider the hills ahead. While we ran, the hosts were dismantling the course. The path was lined with orange plastic construction fencing and they were unhooking it from the posts and rolling it up. The whole race had a very last-minute/hurry-up-go-home feel to it. We finished and left for home soon after--Jeff in the team van, and me with our kids in our van.

Playing with friends in the dirt. I'm pretty sure they found a half-drunk cup of soda and made mud out of it. Urban explorers! This dirt pile was right in the middle of a main area and runners and spectators were constantly flowing around these cute kids like a river around a big rock.

 There's nothing quite like a top 50 finisher's ribbon in a race with less than 20 runners! It's a treasure to be sure. Even though I'm getting older and slower, it's still fun to do community races with my husband. It takes us back to our courtship, much of which occurred at track and cross country meets.

We arrived home at 5:30pm, ten hours after we left. It was a LONG DAY! Amber had popcorn and marshmallows for dinner in the car. I told Jay and Rose to get themselves some dinner if they were still hungry after all of our snacking, and I went downstairs to take a shower. Eventually I herded the tired kids into bed and collapsed onto the couch to await Jeff's arrival. It is always good to finally have a conversation with him after a day of seeing him from afar.

We spent Sunday lounging on the couch watching General Conference, and it was restorative in every way.

 zzzz...