Updates on The Oddity

The FSA National Conference was fantastic! I had a wonderful time, as an attendee and as something of an event manager. I enjoyed in equal measure the classes for my own sake, as well as ensuring everything happened the way it was supposed to. But that's just me! For the longest summary EVER, please visit my other blog.

So now it's back to life, though with a few changes here and there.

The biggest such change is that I'm going to be teaching Taekwondo this fall. I've been given one class so far, an "all-ranks" childrens class on Tuesday and Thursday evenings. I got to visit that class for a few minutes on Tuesday, and it was fun. The kids seem to have a lot of energy, and they were excited to be there. I hope that I'll be a good teacher for them! I've never taught a childrens class before, so it will be an adventure!

In case you didn't know, I'm working toward my second degree black belt, which I am going to test for in January. That may seem far off to YOU, but for ME, it's coming up mighty fast! I'm still very out of shape, and it's going to take a lot of work to get in shape, as well as to learn and prepare everything I will need to test. Adventures!

As far as the works of me and my Muse, things move slowly. My co-authorship with Sam is still plugging along. I find myself frequently distracted, and it's difficult to focus long enough to be honestly productive. I seriously need a getaway, just for writing. But lacking that, I just plug along as best I can. (Still in love with Google Docs, by the way.)

Life is good. I'm busy, which is the best way to be. I'm happy with the things that I'm doing. Onward, ever onward!

Reverting to Childhood

This weekend, I discovered that Wal-Mart had sidewalk chalk for $1. You would not believe the giddy delight that spread through me at the sight of it (of course, it was about 10:30pm at the time, could have been an influencing factor). For a single buck? You'd better believe that I couldn't resist.

I think my dear Melissa may have thought the activity would wait for morning, but upon arriving home at approximately 11:00pm, I immediately cracked open the little box and went at it. For at least half an hour, Melissa and I went crazy all over my parents' driveway and sidewalk--everything from suns and flowers and mountain landscapes, to declaring our BFF status, declaiming the beauty of our parked vehicles, a hopskotch and a fully fleshed decoration of "Super Val" by Melissa. The only drawback to the entire glorious experience is that I scuffed the toe of my brand new shoe. Tragedy!

With spring coming in, I would definitely endorse a few enthusiastic childhood activities. It's immensely stress-relieving. For instance, my CIO is currently building a pinewood derby car in his office. (But don't even get our boss started on men building their son's pinewood derby cars...because he just finished his half-hour rant about it!) Spring is in the air, and it's infectious!

Sinking chair

I seriously have the cutest nephew in the whole world. His name is Ben, or my Benjabuddy. He just started kindergarten, and seems to be loving it. Apparently, they have a "Thinking Chair", where naughty students are sent to think about what they've done wrong. (With his lisp, I thought at first that Ben said "Sinking chair", and I was very confused!) My mom has a little stool in her kitchen, used to reach the high cabinets, but in the months since he's stayed with us rather frequently, it's also become Ben's time-out spot in our house. So tonight, after hearing about the kindy's Thinking Chair, my mom asked if her kitchen stool would make a good Thinking chair. Ben said yes, and promptly sat down into a "thinking" pose, with his head held thoughtfully in his hands. So cute!

Maybe I should get ME a thinking chair!

In for the long haul

So, I now work at a charter school in Provo as a receptionist/secretary/mailman/firewatcher/all-around-get-'er-done person. In fact, my first day on the job, one of the teachers brought all of the first graders out to the front office to meet me. I was introduced as "Miss Valerie", the person who can help you call your mom or give you a band-aid. :)

The first two and a half days were absolute chaos--phones ringing every five minutes, parents coming in equally often needing things I didn't know where to find or even if they existed, besides the fact that the building is still under construction, so there are contractors all over and people tracking dust in from the unfinished parking lot. And this is just first through sixth grade--the middle and high schoolers don't come until next week along with the kindergarteners!

Today felt a little more normal, despite the fact that our trainer wasn't here today. My coworker Sashalai and I kept things under control with only a modicum of chaos, and were relatively productive. I was quite proud of that.

A couple of the teachers asked me today if I think I'll stick around, or if I'm going to run away like the last girl. Every time, I smile and say, "I'm in for the long haul."

A Mormon girl working in the theatre on a Sunday afternoon

My mother complained to me today that I haven't blogged in forever, so I endeavor to remedy that. I'm pretty sure my mother is my only consistent reader, so I do try to keep her happy. You know, besides all of the OTHER reasons I try to keep my mother happy. :)

Part of the reason it's been awhile is that we have been kah-razy busy the last few days. I've talked about Site Specifics before. Basically, it's theatre based on the venue, rather than on a script. However, that means we don't have the base of a theater to work from--we're building from the ground up, creating scenery, lighting and sound effects, and anything else you can think of, to a PLACE--anywhere on campus the directors like and can get approved. Once we're past, I'll post more details and hopefully some pictures. But like I've said before, this is pretty much the coolest thing we do here. The most unique, anyway. It keeps our whole crew hopping for the week leading up to the shows.

At church today, I couldn't help noticing how many pregnant women there were. I kid you know, half of the Relief Society is pregnant. Granted, it's a pretty young ward, lots of toddlers running around. But still, I don't think I've ever been in such a group. All these crazy bellies! It was strange to see the age differences, too. There were expecting mothers who looked no older than me--their early twenties, if that. There were late-twenties moms with a kid or three already. But then there were a couple pregnant women who seriously had to be in their late thirties or early forties! Now, there's nothing wrong with this, of course, it's just funny to see the difference. The young mothers were spry and cute, with tight-fitting maternity blouses and chic skirts with expanded waistlines. The older ladies...heck, they don't care anymore, they were in loose, sack-like, flower-printed dresses to keep cool and comfy. I had to laugh. Those younger moms will learn!

Have you ever had a group of babies staring at you all at once? Toddlers, too, I guess. I don't know why I'm a target for this attention. Sitting in the congregation, surrounded by the aforementioned young families, I kept catching these young watchers. I would smile, then look back at the speaker, or my hymnbook, or the wall somewhere away from their wide, innocent eyes. There was the little boy next to me, his older sister on his other side, the little girl and her littler brother in front of me, and the four-year-old redhead in front of them. Hardly a moment went by where there wasn't at least one set of eyes on me. I didn't see them staring at anyone else in particular. Maybe I had Sharpie on my face? It was somewhat disconcerting, I'll admit. I didn't really mind, though. I like little'ns, as Sam would say.

It's hard to remember that it's Sunday, at work. That's part of the reason we (Mormons in particular) try not to work on Sunday, I suppose. Everybody's talking, everybody's in a rush, people are irritated and frustrated and tense and trying to make things work. Nobody around here but me is trying to focus on anything else, I suppose, but if they were, I'm sure they'd find it just as difficult as I do.

Part of the mission statement here is that we function as an artists colony, separate from the outside world and focused entirely on the kids' art. That's the biggest focus, really--the kids. Still, the atmosphere here is infectious. All of us have said at one point or another that we feel inspired here, that it affects our own artistic inclinations. I can't help but to write. One of the other women here broke out her paints practically upon arriving. There is just something about being surrounded by other artists that invokes the muse.

strange new grief

I can't even express how agonizing it is to be away from my family right now. My 'niece' Elaina is suffering, and the doctors are reaching the limits of what they can do for her. Her mother is trying to deal with the decisions she will soon be faced--whether or not to take her daughter off the ventilator, whether to stop the suffering. I'm glad that Hollie's parents are there with her, but I wish more than anything that I was there with her too. I feel so helpless. I can't express in words what I want to tell her, not over the phone or over email or blog. I want to hold her, I want to see Elaina, I want to be there with them. I've never felt anything like this before, and I don't know how to deal with it. I've never been incapable of supporting someone before. I've never been devoid of my own comfort when I needed it. This is why families are drawn together at times like this--they need the physical, nonverbal support of one another's presence. Right now, I can't offer or receive any of it.

I'm scared. I'm scared for Elaina, I'm scared for Hollie, and I'm scared for everybody that cares about them both. That includes me.

I wish I was there.

A stranger died today

His name was Charles, or Charlie. He was a baby, 9 months old, with a heart condition called HLHS. His parents love him very much.

I guess all I can say is...don't take life for granted. People lose loved ones all the time. Even when you know its coming it can take you by surprise. And its never easy.

A day for gratitude

I spent the day with my cousin Hollie at Primary Children's Hospital in SLC. Hollie's little daughter Elaina had a procedure today--a heart cath--in part to prepare for open heart surgery next week. It was a very stressful day for Hollie, waiting for news, getting only one progress report through the afternoon, and the procedure took a deal longer than it was supposed to. Poor Elaina has a big old bruise on her leg, but otherwise she came through fine, thank God and all those whose prayers have been with this little bug.

Primary Children's is an interesting place--it's bright and cheerful for a hospital, with lots of color, friendly nurses and doctors, and lots of support for families. The hospital reserved Hogle Zoo for the evening, just for the parents and families of children in the hospital. Ben and my parents went while Hollie and I waited for Elaina to get out of the PACU (Post Anesthetic Care Unit). But at the same time, its a hospital for children--a place where children unfortunately suffer. They suffer with the greatest care available, but they suffer there nonetheless.

I think we sometimes take a great deal for granted. Hollie and I talked about this a little bit today. I look at new mothers who walk around with their children, who stand in line at the grocery store with babe-in-arms, and I think of Elaina, who has spent nearly her entire five months of life chained to an oxygen tube and heart monitor, and often lots more than that. Elaina, who's usually on half a dozen medications or more just to keep her alive and as well as she can be. Elaina, who's going in for her second open-heart surgery at five months old. Elaina, who is the most beautiful, patient and good-natured baby ever.

I think sometimes we take a great deal for granted.

Hormones

God must've had a real laugh when he designed the menstrual cycle. Either that, or feeling particularly sadistic.

I've been craving chocolate for two days. Starting on the rag didn't make that go away. I think I ate five chocolate chip cookies this evening. Enough to make me feel slightly sick to my stomach, but not nearly enough to make the craving go away.

I think I was a little short with my nephew tonight. He's five, and his baby sister is in the hospital, which means their mom has been at the hospital with her as much as possible--which means little Ben misses his mom a lot. Which, in his case, means he acts out. He's constantly attention-seeking, which unfortunately means he's almost constantly causing trouble. I love the little bugger, but he frequently drives me crazy, and tonight I was probably a little harsher than I needed to be.

Cramps make it hard for me to concentrate. I wrote about 4000 words today, but I'll need to remember to read it over carefully in a few days--I kept catching my fingers typing things my brain didn't mean--words were missing, or misspelled, or misplaced, or a totally new one took its place without my brain ever thinking it. In fact, if this blog is a little topsy-turvy, you know where to place the blame.

Mood-swings are the worst. Tonight was especially bad. I had a great day--I sat outside all afternoon and wrote wrote wrote, listening to my music, watching my dad work in the yard, and the dog chase birds. She can do that for hours--and did. Great afternoon. Then my mom made cookies, which I proceeded to consume. Then we got to talk to my brother for a few minutes--he's on an LDS mission in Virginia, which means we don't normally get to talk to him on the phone. But he was in a bicycle accident, he got a concussion and possible a fracture in his cheekbone, so he was at the hospital, and his mission president let us talk to him for a few minutes. Ben told him he needed training wheels! lol. After finally getting Ben to bed, my parents and I sat down and watched "Pursuit of Happyness", which is a swell movie. And now, despite this wonderful day, I'm in a bad mood. I couldn't even begin to tell you why, except for one thing:

Hormones.

They are the bane of human existence. For women, because we have to endure them, and for men because they have to live with them. Force of nature, my friend.

A Day's Work

Today, I wrote. I'm working on a piece of what I like to call "contemporary fantasy". A novel, perhaps even a children's novel, but we'll see.

I started writing my second chapter today--my kids' first day at school. Its rather a special school, so I wanted to serve up the details, but I'm not sold yet on what I accomplished. The chapter is very long, and it covers all their classes, but not in any kind of depth. I skim through each class, introducing the topic, the teacher, and in most cases a bit of dialogue. But I'm wondering whether it wouldn't be better to skim a bit more in some places and a bit less in others. But I guess that's what revision is for, eh?

Today I also created 41 new characters--other children at my school. There are about 100 all told, but these I created to reference at need. You would not believe how difficult it is to create, at whim, 40-odd people from nothing, and have them all be different and in some way unique, especially when applying rules of a not-quite-normal world. But there they are, and hopefully they get a bit more fleshed-out over the years.

Tomorrow I begin the third chapter, where we meet the fourth (of four) protagonists. I'm very excited. Today I established what might be my favorite character, but that remains to be seen. I love writing! These are my babies, my children of the present. I watch them grow day by day with great excitement.

Oh, and today I decided that even though I really don't like Temple of Doom, I still really like Harrison Ford, and that I'm really excited for #4. Oh, and I decided that I like David Cook after all. I didn't like him at first, but tonight I decided I like him. I still think Archuleta will win (simply because he has thousands of teeny-boppers AND the producers behind him), but I can also support the rock-star career of David Cook. We hope, anyway.

The Meaning of "Family"

As you may or may not know, I'm adopted. I was placed with my parents at the tender age of four days old, and I went nineteen years having no more information about my birthparents than a medical history card. The summer right before I turned nineteen, I decided to look for them. Legally I wasn't allowed to confirm their identity until I was 21, but there were plenty of adoption-reunion websites to circumvent that restriction. So, I found an entry that matched mine, and a few emails later we had confirmed our relationship--my birthfather had been searching for me. He introduced me (via email) to my birthmother. We spent the summer emailing, then in August, my (adoptive) parents held a barbeque, and I met my birthparents, and my birthfather's three daughters and his wife.

To make a long story short, I have continued to develop a relationship with my birthfather's family since that time. I've had about three emails from my birthmother.

I got thinking last night after I left my birthfather's house. I have a relationship with him and his girls that I wouldn't give up for the world. They are my family. I may not have grown up with his girls, but I can now tease them and talk to them--if not like a sister, then at least a good friend. I love talking to Jason and his wife Jenny. And they love spoiling me, giving me things. I never leave their house without SOMEthing in hand.

It was my birthmother's birthday last week. He alerted me, and we both emailed--mine was more in the line of birthday wishes, but last night he told me he wrote and chewed her out. He's mad that she's missing a relationship with me--he thinks she's on a high horse. Long story. In the end, I just told him that I don't feel like I'm missing anything, because I have him.

I don't really know what most people think about adoption. I've always been too close to understand the general opinion. I see reunion shows on the daytime talk shows, and I just laugh--I can't imagine going through that in front of a television audience. Now it's even more complicated because I placed my own son for adoption two years ago. But I'll tell you this much--for me, adoption has just turned into a bigger family. Sometimes I even feel sorry for people who only have a normal family! I've got multiple parents, extra sets of grandparents, and more aunts and uncles and cousins than I care to think about, and I can say the same thing for my son--people he's never, and probably will never meet, love and care about him. That's the meaning of family--people who love and care without ever needing a reason to do so.

A short piece about today's experience at the internship

Drawing blood is interesting and engaging. On adults. Children, however, are intimidating, not merely because their veins are tiny and buried under layers of baby fat, but also because their parentals are hovering protectively, nearly as terrified as their child that you are going to hurt those little arms, etc. Moreover, I do not enjoy being coughed on by nine-month-old children.

That said, on to Day 2.

Meeting Expectations

I've discovered over the years that there are certain people whom I will always want to please or impress--some to a greater degree than others. I can pinpoint these people, and I have a good relationship with each of them, albeit a very different relationship in each and every case.

For instance, there is my best friend. I always crave her good opinion of me, and I simultaneously always crave her own happiness. At the core of our relationship, however, is our religion--I feel that the closer I am to my religion, the more peaceful our relationship is. HOWEVER, this is the one person who I can completely be myself with. There is no one else whom I so completely trust, with every aspect of my life. I think everyone should have such a person.

I have another friend, a very close friend. We've gone through four years of college together, pursuing the same career--sometimes a cause for contention or competition, but most often a source of mutual aspirations. Despite everything, I always want to impress this dear friend with my prospects--where I'm working for the summer, where I'm going in six months, my dreams and goals. We've shared them for a long time. But recently we've kind of met a fork in the road--he got into grad school and I didn't. But in addition to that, I've realized that this road we've been traveling together isn't one I want to be on anymore. But, because of the nature of our friendship, I don't know how to explain to him that I don't share these mutual goals and aspirations anymore. The path that I want to take may not be as impressive to him, and I fear losing his respect.

There is my family, particularly my parents. For their sakes, I want to make something of myself. Pursuing our religion helps, but mostly I just want to be able to do things that make them proud of me. Oh, and my mother really wants grandchildren. I'll be perfectly happy to oblige her, as soon as I find their father.

I also have a favorite cousin, and I think for her it's good enough just to be myself. We've made similar mistakes, we share a lot of opinions, we share in the immediacy of our family, and she's honestly the one person whom I can talk childbirth with, without it getting awkward because I don't have my son anymore.

There are my high school friends--God bless them--who are dearer to me than nearly anything else in the world. For them, it's frequently a religion thing: am I dating, what's my calling, etc. They could often care less about my career, as long as its something that makes me happy. And as long as I'm doing SOMEthing. Hopefully soon I'll be able to remedy that. The only problem is that they don't want me to move away. My career would cause that, but my chosen career is becoming less appealing every day.

My professors, for the most part, want me to be successful at this chosen career--and NOT succumb to this religious inclination toward home and babies. Certainly, I want them to be proud of me also, but I think they are going to be the first ones I disappoint.

So what of myself? This is what puzzles me on a daily basis. What expectations do I hold for myself? They are often conflicting. I want to be successful, but as the days roll by, I more and more often question what exactly I want to succeed at. Certainly, there is much temporal glory to be had by being a woman pursuing a career. I have wanted that. But do I anymore? The older I get, the less that seems to matter. I used to mock women of my age (and younger) who settled down and started their families, without ever pursuing anything outside the home. I thought "They're not making anything of themselves, they're wasting their brains." But I don't really think that anymore. There are plenty of important things to do, at every stage of life. Pursuing a career is very grand, and I would love to do it. I love the theatre, I love the arts. But I don't think I could be content living that life. There is so much more to it.

I guess the greatest expectations I have to meet are the ones that HF and I work out between us--what satisfies His expectations while still generating my own happiness. I just have to figure them out, that's all.

Surrogate mother

This week, I've been staying at my parents' house in Orem, taking care of my 'niece' Elaina. This little one has been through the mill. She was born a month early, with DiGeorge's Syndrome. She had heart surgery when she was about a week old, which meant she was at Primary's for nearly the first month of her life. She came home for a couple of days, caught RSV and went straight back. She spent three more weeks at the hospital, then finally was able to come home. Two days later, her mom was diagnosed with Influenza A. The doctor told Hollie not even to be in the same house as her kids, so she called my parents and asked if they could take the kids, which they did. Elaina is still on oxygen, as you can see, as well as an oxygen/heart monitor, so her movement is pretty limited. Hollie's parents came to stay with my parents for a week to help take care of the baby, and when they had to return to Nebraska, I came down from Salt Lake to stay through the remainder of Hollie's illness to take care of Elaina and Ben.
Elaina is the most darling baby in the world, and so sweet-tempered. She's been giving us some scares--some of her medicine upsets her stomach, so she's been throwing up. The first time it happened, they had to call the paramedics because she stopped breathing and turned blue--but they got everything sorted out and she was okay. Yesterday, she spit up three times in the space of 24 hours, so we took her to the doctor. He gave us some pointers to keep her from doing it, but really praised us on her care, said she was doing great. The really scary thing is that it comes up through her nose as well as her mouth. It just looks more terrible than it actually is, and it's no fun for anybody. We have to suction out her airways, replace her airtubes because they get spitup in them, we usually have to change and bathe her because she gets it all over herself--its just a lot of fuss that nobody really enjoys. Hopefully she won't do it anymore!

The really funny part is our dog, Suzy Q. Now, this dog has always been pretty protective of Ben, Elaina's five-year-old elder brother. Whenever Ben goes out to ride his bike, Suzy runs right along with him. She loves playing with him. She's only about two years old, and having Elaina in the house has really mellowed this dog. As you can see, she's become Elaina's Nanna--she is SO protective. She'll just sit there next to the baby's bouncer for hours, and she's always sniffing and watching Elaina. It's so cute.
Caring for Elaina has been a real joy. She's such a pleasant baby--even when she fusses she's just so cute, you just want to make her happy. She's at the stage where she's starting to focus on things with her eyes, and she's really getting expressive with her eyes and face. She's gaining more control of her hands, enough to push me away when she doesn't want to burp! Soon she'll be able to push her binky back in her mouth when she drops it--which is all the time. Caring for Elaina just makes me want my own babies, and right now!

A little melancholy

Hollie gave birth to Elaina Jean late last night. I went with my parents and Ben to visit her this evening. She's struggling, because Elaina is underdeveloped and needs surgery, but even more so because she just wants to hold her baby and feel like everything's okay.

I haven't wanted to hold a baby so much for a really long time. Of course I was thinking about Ian, but also about the future, the future children I hope to have. There is truly nothing like motherhood. There is no similar power in all the world, and even we mothers underestimate it far too often.

Ben is in tears right now, because he misses his mother. This is the third night in a row he's slept over at our house, and he's probably got another two or more ahead of him. He misses his mom. There is nothing more pure than the unconditional love of a child for his mother, and nothing more tender.

Ben's sleeping with me tonight.