Catharsis

Writing really is cathartic for me.  I find that I work through my problems so much better when I've written about them. It's the release that I need to move on to the next chapter. I'm gonna get pretty personal for this post, so if you'd rather read fluff, wait until next time.

I've recently suffered a loss. Two losses actually. My grandmother passed away. A wonderful, service-oriented, bubbly, caring, cheerful, lovely woman. She wrote music and played the piano masterfully. Every time I play one of her arrangements of music, I feel her near me (even before she passed away), her soul is in music. This is how I will always remember her: forever connected to the piano.

I had a miscarriage. The hubs and I were really looking forward to having another little bundle in our home to love and hold, but twas not to be. I don't think that we'll be a single-child family, but if that is to be the case. I have an awesome little man to be grateful for! I mean look at that face, who couldn't love that? 

When I first found out that we weren't going to be having another baby, it was terrible! I cried all the time at the drop of a hat and was mad at every pregnant woman I knew or didn't know for that matter. But after I went in for a procedure, it was like the last punctuation had been placed on the last page and I could turn it and move on.

So that is what I'm doing, moving on. Due to the recent events, I'm no longer working as a vocal coach. My boss felt that I should take this time to heal and we were nearly done with the season anyway. I thought that was very sympathetic of her. I am looking forward to real meal planning again and just being able to use my time the way I want to.

Until next time,

Lady Jane

Obstacles

It started out as the camping trip from he- you know. We forgot our blankets, pillows, sleeping bags and had to turn around and drive back for them after we already left an hour and a half later than I wanted to. Then while driving I remembered that we forgot to bring our box of chips and hot dogs, I suppose it wasn't that big of a deal since we were coming closer and closer to civilization and could buy another pack of hot dogs and a couple bags of chips. When obstacles get in my way I immediately think of, "who is trying to stop me from going? or doing this thing?"

Similar obstacles befell me when I started my first day as a vocal coach. My babysitter got into a fender bender leaving school and I had to bring F with me which meant working it out with my husband to meet me at the studio to pick F when he got off work and switch cars. Then as I was heading out to my husband's car and I tried to turn the lock with my key, nothing happened. F was already in bed by the time I was done teaching. Hubby couldn't come and rescue me. Luckily, I had a spare key which turned out to be for the lock and nothing else.

I wonder if that's why my hair is falling out in thick strands? Am I stressed? I suppose these new hats of home ownership and voice teacher that I've donned have magical properties that release my hair from its roots.

I try to remember that there is only so much I can control. I'm trying to be better about sorting through the mail and reminding myself to pay the bills (hubs has been the primary bill payer for about the last nine years of marriage). There are days where I feel really in control of my life, but when obstacles find their way to me, I lose my footing. Blogging has been my stabilizer though since I haven't devoted time to write more in my book. It's nice to have a release that I can always come back to, something that I know I will never tire from.

~Lady Jane

I Knew I Could Do It

I love it when I figure things out. Since having F I've felt like, at times, my brain doesn't operate at 100% like it used to. For the longest time I couldn't update my pages (have you even looked at those? Yes, those tabs at the top of the page for the curious eye) and it was driving me nuts! Do you want to know the problem, I had been able to post under another email login but I couldn't really change anything about my blog (especially the stuff that I wanted to change). I figured out I needed to name my other login an admin too. * SIGH *  That feels so much better!

But on another note, I feel like my life is going to become very stressful in the very near future. I'm going to have to learn how to really prioritize my time. I recently accepted an offer to be a vocal coach for a performing arts group. Yes, I sing too.

A couple of pros:
I'm getting paid!
It's in the afternoon so it shouldn't interfere too much with the home life
I'll be improving on my skills as a singer as well as my teaching skills
I get to do something fun

And the cons:
I have to hire a babysitter for the time I start until hubs gets home
My time won't always be my own
I'll miss F's bedtime twice a week

So now I have the wonderful task of trying to figure out how to do the mom thing, wife thing, and career woman thing.

Hopefully by the semester's end I will be saying...I knew I could do it.

~Lady Jane

Lesson Learned

One of the weirdest phrases I heard in my writing class was, "creative nonfiction." What does that even mean? I was at a loss for words. I had no idea how I supposed to get creative without being false or bending the truth. Had I been a reader of Real Simple magazine when taking the class, I would have known exactly what my professor meant. In each issue they have a section called "Life Lessons". I learn the strangest, saddest, and sometimes simple things when I read that section. This is creative nonfiction. These writers just seem to know how to paint a story without brushing over the truth.

So here goes, if I were to actually submit a piece for an essay contest about understanding the meaning of love it might go something like this:

My mother always used to say that I would never understand how much she loved me until I had a child of my own. There's no way that could be true. There were so many ways that my mother showed me love: supporting my talents by attending choir concerts, always being a listening ear, staying up with me to finish that forgotten term paper, always finding time to teach me valuable life lessons as she transitioned into grandmother-hood while I was still only eight. As I grew up with a matriarch overflowing with positive words and love, I never thought it would take me until I had my first child that I would truly understand. As I groggily woke up to feed my crying baby, carefully prepared his food, happily changed his diaper or enjoyed his coos and giggles I was reminded of all the loving attention given to me by my own mother as her youngest.

Due to medical complications, I didn't get to spend an entire week with my newborn and had to leave my son in the care of my mother. She was much older now, and physically less prepared to repeat the routine of a newborn baby. I ached to be out of my hospital bed and be home with my husband and son, but I knew that my son was more than competently cared for, perhaps even more so than by a brand new mommy like me. I knew that my son would be loved and given the attention that I would have given him myself.

My mom with my son

When I was finally discharged from the hospital, I still couldn't hold my son and walk at the same time thus the nighttime responsibilities again fell to my mother. It was after I had regained strength in my leg that I profusely thanked my mom for caring for my boy. She gushed about how much she loved being up with him in the middle of the night and not being sore or too tired (like having her own seven children felt). What I imagine she was trying to say, "You won't understand how much I love you until you have a child of your own." I wouldn't have done any different had it been my grown son and his family in need of service and I an older woman in her latter years. She managed to show me how much she could love her grandson and through this selfless act, I know what unconditional love truly is.

So mom, if you happen to read this I love you for all that you have ever done and still do for me!

~Lady Jane

Lady Jane: Zero, Parenting: Won

8 June 2012

Well, parenting certainly won that round today. I am near my wits end trying to nourish my son. The only thing he consumes without hesitation is milk, yogurt, bread, and bananas. If I try to mix bananas into his yogurt, forget about it. He will try a bite of other foods and will immediately spit it out. I did get him to each some pureed sweet potatoes, so that was a success. I think it's a texture issue with him. But it's driving me insane! I started introducing gummy vitamins so that I could at least feel good about making sure he got them in another source, but every time I give him the vitamins he asks for fruit snacks. I'm not worried that he isn't healthy, he is quite the little muscle man. Perhaps I'm overcomplicating the matter; I know what foods I like and the ones I don't and I could literally eat cereal every morning for breakfast because it's quick and easy and F is my kid after all. Maybe he's just trying to tell me in his limited vocabulary that a variety of foods isn't for him (at least not yet). I doubt I'll have a long respite during F's nap time since he's so incredibly stubborn that all he ate was a piece of bread for lunch. I offered him one teddy graham for each bite of parfait he ate, but this little stinker wouldn't even dane to try it.

~Lady Jane

Back in 43,200 Minutes

We are officially moving! So I will be on hiatus for a month. Feel free to poke around and explore. Try some Goldberg writing practices if you feel so inclined. I hope you have a wonderful month! See you later.

~Lady Jane

A Lot Can Change in a Matter of Hours

Have you been enjoying the roller coaster ride as much as we have? Like I said before, I should have learned my lesson seven years ago to never work with HUD. They weren't willing to negotiate the price or allow us to get another appraisal completed. Just a bunch of back and forth, "We sent it to you," "Well we didn't get it" so we walked away. It certainly wasn't worth the headache and motion-sickness anymore.

As much as I liked the layout of the house, it was definitely built in the 90s; weird niches for giant televisions gone extinct, outdated floor plans and not enough storage. The one thing that I will miss, is the backyard. I loved that backyard! I could imagine little F playing on his newly acquired plastic jungle gym/slide and walking in and out of the playhouse, while I happily watched him, washing dishes at the kitchen sink. There is another house out there for us, that will be the right one. I have to stay positive and motivated because there is no way I'm staying in this rental until I'm 30! Not gonna happen!

We'll keep looking (I've already found a couple strong contenders) and make plans to go look at some more. But past me has to convince future me not to get too excited about anything until I've weighed all the options. Who knew that making a Pro/Con list would help? I'm a believer!

Third Time Wasn't The Charm

Looks like we'll be putting the home buying process to rest for the foreseeable future. I'm really glad that I haven't told a lot of people about this considering that we were within days of a 30 day closing date and we had to walk away. I should have learned my lesson back in 2005; never, ever try and buy a house from HUD if you're a family. Maybe an investor can come up with $14K cash to bring to the table if he bid too high and the house's worth is too low, but I've never had $14K in my life! That's essentially what happened. HUD does not negotiate and the appraisal company is crap; using outdated and irrelevant information for the comps of other homes in the same neighborhood.

I wish I could verbally lash the appraiser who single-handedly screwed up our chances of purchasing this home. I am beyond livid. All the stress that we've been dealing with that poor F has felt the effects of were for nothing? We were supposed to hear back from our lender on 4/25 if the appraisal management company overlooked the shoddy job the appraiser had done, but we found out on that day, that nothing had been done! So the week that we were sitting on pins and needles waiting for an updated appraisal of the house, was AGAIN for nothing? I'm so tempted to get rid of everyone that has been involved in this process with us, our realtor, our lender. If I were our lender working with a terrible appraisal management company, I'd tell my superiors.

And that was what I was going to say last week about the house. Here's what I'm saying this week about the house: There's a chance we may still be moving in the next few weeks. I know! I didn't think it was possible either. My realtor was fuming at the prospect that the house would simply go back on the market, somebody else would bid, work with a completely different appraisal company and get the house, that he and our lender hatched a plan to pull their money together to get a third appraisal done on the home! Hubby and I would still have to cover the cost of turning on the utilities for the appraisal, but we're willing to risk $100 bucks if it means we might get the house. We weren't so sure to gamble $500, there are other homes out there. Granted, not as many in a good market, but there are others. The nice part about all of this is, if it doesn't go through, we were already in a position to walk away, however the confidence that our realtor has about the home's worth is enough for me.

I still feel the same about the appraiser and the first appraisal process. Just so we're all clear.

Looks like taking my own advice was harder than I had anticipated. Would you be able to stay positive? It's been pretty difficult.

~ Lady Jane

P.S. I hope your last few weeks have been a lot happier and less dramatic/emotional than mine. I will be so glad when all of this is over!

My Thoughts Exactly

Frustrated, flustered, flabbergasted and furious doesn't even begin to describe my current state of emotions! On Tuesday, we got some disheartening news about the purchase of our house. We've been waiting on the appraisal for a lot longer than we were told and were finally given the bad news. The appraisal came in lower than our bid and because we're working with HUD they won't allow us to lower our offer. Apparently they like having too many houses in their inventory. Who knew? Our realtor and lender were both furious about the news as much as the hubs and I were. Bottom line, the appraiser was incompetent using outdated information to figure the worth of the house. The inspection came back with better news than this!

It's hard to keep a well-rounded perspective about this process. I realize that this might not be the right house for us, but up until this point, everything seemed golden. And I thought I was doing a good job by not counting my chickens before they hatched.

In other, happier news I am an incredibly blessed woman for the husband and son I get to spend my life with!

Complexity is My Middle Name

I decided it was about time to get back to my original purpose for this blog and considering all of the events going on in my life that I cannot change, becoming a better writer is one thing I have control over.

"Where do you come from, who are you, what makes you?" One of the best questions posed by Goldberg to help the budding writer within.

The most obvious answer would be to expound upon my upbringing (which I have done a lot of) mention the skills/talents I have and hobbies I enjoy. BORING! So I will try and make it a little less boring.

I come from seekers and believers:

Not too long ago, I filled out a Mormon.org profile and one of the questions I answered was why I was Mormon. I think it's because my family is. It's in my blood. My 3x great grandfather was the first to become a Mormon, he sought after truth and believed. I owe him immensely for the knowledge I have because he looked for answers to his questions.

I come from music:

My grandmother is an amazing pianist! She lived next to me for nineteen years and when I say next to me I mean next to. I could get to her house through our garage. So I would often drop by and listen to her play the piano. Two of my older sisters also played the piano; music filled our house often and sometimes to the dismay of anyone in the house wanting to watch t.v.

I come from laughter:

My dad has the wackiest sense of humor, which I luckily possess a little bit of. He claims it was his mother's father that passed it down to him. I love to hear the laughter of my family and I get to hear it a lot.

I am Cowardice/Heroism/Peace/Contention/Love/Self-Loathing:

I am a complex woman. I am sometimes too afraid to confront a problem and other times, a raging bull out of the gate. I just wish I knew how to be bull when I'm a lamb. And with that cowardice and heroism, I am a blend of peace and contention. I don't like contention, avoid it at all costs and when I should be a peacemaker, I'm too afraid to mediate. I am freely giving of compliments, but not to myself, afraid of becoming narcissistic or egocentric. I'm also noticing a pattern here. Do you see it? I think my cowardly side trumps my heroic side by a long shot!

So, "where do you come from, who are you, what makes you?"

~ Lady Jane

Another Week Down

I feel that the only thing keeping me from going insane is this special little blog where I can come to voice my frustrations, elations and all in between.

I just called a couple doctors' offices to postpone appointments so as to save as much money as possible for the purchasing of our very first home! Did I tell you that? That the hubs and I are working on getting our first home? It's a nerve-wracking process to say the least and yet I'm surprisingly calm about it. We took another walk-through on Tuesday and I feel even more excited and correct that this is the right house for us. I just pray that there are very few hiccups as possible. HUD is infamous for hiccuping, A LOT! However, this process has been moving along at a steady pace, a VERY good sign.

I'm a "sign" person. I look for extraordinary occurrences amongst the mundane. So while we were at the house, I was carrying F's diaper bag out to the car when I noticed a potential neighbor a couple doors down, he said hello and asked if we were moving in. I excitedly called back to him, "We're hoping!" He then replied something to the effect of if we moved in that they would have to bring us over some cookies. He seemed pleased that somebody might be moving in. I'm not sure how long the house has been vacant, but I know I'd be pleased to have someone move in that would take care of the house. That was a sign; a little bit of an extraordinary exchange amongst potential neighbors that I don't believe happens as much in a garage community.

One of the nice things about this property is how boring it is, so ANY thing we do to it, will be an improvement! All that's left is the appraisal and inspection. I'm biting my nails here and I NEVER do that! I pride myself on having long, pretty nails even though I am a pianist. Call me crazy, but I like the click of my nails against the keys, the same way a guitarists fingers slide on the fret like a screeching nylon stocking.

And F wants to know...

Have you read any good books for kids, about kids lately?

Have a happy day!

And I Thought I Was Losing Brain Cells Before

A couple of months ago, I mentioned in my family blog that I felt like I had nothing to do, that I was losing my brain cells from being a SAHM. I couldn't have been more wrong! I have so much on my calendar that I'm a living episode of "Hoarders: Buried Alive!" I don't even have time to expedite a book club that my sister and I started at the beginning of the year. I don't think it helped any that our members were less than enthusiastic about reading different kinds of literature. (Ex. one doesn't want to read series [there goes Hunger Games and Harry Potter], another doesn't want to read books she had to read in high school [so long classics and thought-provoking works], another is so defensive that anything religious is inflammatory. Makes for interesting group of contributors and books to choose from doesn't it? I'm afraid I'll be calling my sister and telling her we're gonna have to wait until after May to start up again. Yeah, procrastinators!!!

And it's only going to get worse in the next few weeks. I mentioned in my last post, the dance rehearsals for the Centennial, but when I have the next four Saturdays accounted for it makes me wish I never said I liked having a busy schedule. I wish I was ten again. Where Saturday afternoons were perfect to catch movies from the 80s and the films no one bothered to buy. I am the youngest of seven so by the time I was ten, two sisters were married with a kid each, and one was living away from home and the other three were teenagers.

Back to the present: I'm so nervous that I'm going to forget something so important that I'm constantly turning on my smartphone, pulling up the calendar just to make sure I don't skip over any minute detail. Has that ever happened to you? When your life is so scheduled down to the minute that you just wish you could take a 100 years nap like Rip VanWinkle? Although, that brings up an interesting observation. I would miss out on all the events that got me to the final destination.

Have you ever seen "Click" an Adam Sandler movie that came out in 2006?

I really appreciated the moral of the story; as much as we would like to fast forward all the mundane parts of our lives, we miss out on the journey. A wise man counseled me before I got married to the hubs, "Live in the now, because you'll miss out on the present if you're constantly thinking about what the future holds." I have really tried to put that counsel into my life especially as a mother. Little F will grow up all too soon, so I try to cherish every stage he reaches instead of constantly dwelling on the times when he'll be more independent and less reliant on me.

Song for a Fifth Child, by Ruth Hamilton, 1958

Mother, oh Mother, come shake out your cloth
empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
hang out the washing and butter the bread,
sew on a button and make up a bed.
Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

Oh, I’ve grown shiftless as Little Boy Blue
(lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
(pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo).
The shopping’s not done and there’s nothing for stew
and out in the yard there’s a hullabaloo
but I’m playing Kanga and this is my Roo.
Look! Aren’t her eyes the most wonderful hue?
(lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).

The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
for children grow up, as I’ve learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.
I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.

My eyes are welling with tears just thinking about my little man that recently turned two! I think most mothers would agree that their child/children are the best. I have a good'un! He's incredibly thoughtful and polite. His smile takes over his whole face, his eyes squish to near non-existence, his teeth shine brightly from his half-moon mouth.

Did I do him justice? As much as I like to pride myself on being a good writer, I always worry that my point won't convey to the reader. The picture above satisfies the visual learner in me.

And I just realized that my writing blog is becoming less and less about writing and/or becoming a good writer as my personal life creeps in more and more. Who knows, I may just combine my two passions: writing and becoming a better wife and mother into this nifty little blog.

Until then,

just keep writing, just keep writing.

Already a Slacker

I've only had this blog for how many weeks now, and I've already missed a deadline?!?! I blame it on everybody else but me. Other people I know have been busy and planning parties and weddings but then I thought, "Oh yeah! I was busy planning a bridal shower for my husband's sister, so there!" I had a good reason. That was a couple of weeks ago now and I really haven't had anything pressing on my plate and nap times haven't been used as efficiently. I knew that I was going to be busy a couple of weeks ago so that's why I got prepared, but it's already almost five in the evening (my time) and I'm just now starting to post!

A couple of things about the bridal shower, at least I didn't have to plan it all myself and I had the help of my incredibly talented SIL to help me decorate the concessions table in the theme of "Night at the Movies." I decided to go with this theme because the bride-to-be worked at a movie theater when she was in high school. I figured it would be a fun theme for her. It turned out darling, if I do say so myself. Hopefully I will get pictures posted soon, I can't seem to figure that out right now, what with buying a new camera and hubby and I trying to figure out using one laptop. Turns out that my user can't access our shared pictures, weird.

As guests came in, they wrote down a word of advice for the happy couple on ticket stubs

The concessions table

No movie theme is complete without Red Vines!

Boston Baked Beans and Tropical Lemon Heads

Whoppers, Mike&Ike's, Reese's Pieces

Popcorn!

My sister in-law (the bride to be) and me!

Well, whaddaya know?! Turns out I figured out how to get the pictures I wanted to post all by myself. I'm so glad that she liked the theme and that she had some good friends turn up to support her.

Next up on my social calendar, planning a little shindig for F's second birthday! We'll be doing a Toy Story theme, seems appropriate since F is completely obsessed with the franchise. My hubby is even talking about purchasing the Hawaiian Vacation short film just to add some variety to our collection. To be honest, I love that about hubby, he's willing to put off his own happiness for his son's. I'm sure there are more awesome things that he would want to spend money on.

In case you were wondering: I was able to pull off this theme due to the fact that my sister threw a baby shower for me using popcorn as the jumping off point. The blue/teal framed chalkboard as well as the other one and a movie themed canvas was borrowed as were the plates, popcorn machine and glassware for the service of Red Vines and Pretzels. I got the idea of the red and white striped tablecloth from my baby shower that I recreated. We just used the empty candy boxes as decor to make the table look fuller and had a couple of candy bar prizes (Skor, Whatchamacallit, and Mr. Goodbar) for a guessing game. We had a mad-lib for the bride and groom since the bride is a fan. The center pieces were already assembled from my baby shower so we just covered up the reference to pregnancy and added our own catch phrase, Popping with Joy! Since my mother in-law and I split the cost of stamps, the bridal shower only cost me $50 dollars (happened to be my budget)! The key to keeping functions inexpensive-BORROW, BORROW, BORROW and ask for help!

Composting

No, Goldberg didn't suddenly become fascinated with gardening. She's talking about all of our experiences and senses sifting through our subconscious until they become rich. She talks about how it's difficult to write about being in love whilst being in the middle of the experience, same goes for trying to write about a place you've never been or lived in for very long. She quotes about Hemingway, "Maybe away from Paris I could write about Paris as in Paris I could write about Michigan. I did not know it was too early for that because I did not know Paris well enough."

I know exactly what she is illustrating. I am writing a book. I wouldn't say it's great or even meaningful in any regard, but it's a feel-good, girl-meets-boy-girl-falls-for-boy-girl-and-boy-get-married kind of tale. I set my little story in San Luis Obispo, CA. I have been there (once) but I don't know it well enough to describe with great detail, the surroundings. I can make pretty good guesses and I do have the expertise of my husband who grew up on the central coast. So I'm not without resources. But it is difficult.

That's what she means by composting, immersing ourselves in our experiences until they become wholly part of us.

"Continue to turn over and over the organic details of your life until some of them fall through the garbage of discursive thoughts to the solid ground of black soil."

Even her analogies are incredibly well written!

Ode to a Macbook/Writer's Unblocked!

I love to write. I have always loved to write. I'm not sure why or when this particular fancy first made its appearance, but I love that I can sit down at my computer and just jot down any thought that comes to me. I remember a time, not long after my grandmother passed away that I decided to write about all the things I could remember about her. It started with the most recent, the time of her death. I was fortunate enough to be with her and my mother during her passing. That experience alone has been one of the most spiritual I've ever had. Like Goldberg said, you make sense of your life when you write. I think that's what I love about writing; I can make sense of my life and who I am in my own eyes, not through the eyes of others.

"Writing is physical and is affected by the equipment you use." ~ Natalie Goldberg

This is the equipment I use. I've had it since my first semester at ASU, five years ago this fall. Has it really been that long? We've worked on many projects together, written dozens of papers on Shakespeare, films, teaching methods, and books. But my favorite thing to do with my Macbook is write about nothings, somethings, whatever might pop into my head, conscious or subconscious.

I think I type as fast as I think, that's why I prefer using my computer than a notebook and pen. I liked using a notebook and pen when I was in school and had to carry a book bag, but now that I'm a SAHM, I much prefer this method during nap time. I do agree that "Handwriting is more connected to the movement of the heart" but I feel just as connected to this medium as I do to writing. However the key to all this searching and making sense of your life is experimentation.

Just keep writing, just keep writing...

Goldberg suggests:

1. Keep your hand moving

2. Don't cross out (This tip is especially hard for me as I am in editor mode often. One of my favorite pastimes is looking for errors in books I'm reading, or cereal boxes, pretty much anything printed.)

3. Don't worry about spelling (Um, sorry. I pride myself on being an excellent speller.)

4. Lose control

5. Don't think. Don't get logical

6. Go for the jugular (This is the scary stuff deep down inside that you don't want to admit to yourself that you think or have thought about. This is also the stuff that I will never show anyone, EVER!)

Just keep writing, just keep writing...

Working Through the Book

Now that I feel that I have thoroughly exhaled with my previous posts I can now begin my journey of working through the book, Writing Down the Bones: Freeing the Writer Within. In the introduction Goldberg explains ultimately what her book is about as well as what it might help the reader to accomplish. Two of my favorite lines are, "This book is about writing. It is also about using writing as your practice, as a way to help you penetrate your life and become sane." Who wouldn't want that? And, "To do writing practice means to deal ultimately with your whole life." Sounds pretty profound right? Doesn't have to be. The exhilarating aspect of writing for me is that I can confront my fears, disillusions, fantasies, regrets, aspirations and many more parts of my life that need a little tweaking or fresh perspective.

I love music and so I'm often reminded while I write, a song that also conveys my thoughts. In reference to perspective a line from "Everybody's Free to Wear Sunscreen". I can't believe how in one song there are so many good mantras to live by. If only all songs could be that inspiring. "Advice is a form of nostalgia; dispensing it is a way of wishing the past from the disposal-wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts, and recycling it for more than it's worth."

How many times have we given or gotten advice? I remember a story about my Papa and advice. He said something to the effect of, "When somebody gives you advice. Just nod your head and do as you please." This sounds completely contradictory to what I just copied from that song, but in reflecting about what my Papa said, sometimes your gut is your best advice.

Monday's Child

Do you know the poem, "Monday's Child"? It was my earliest memory of reading. My mother had one of those Little Golden Books full of nursery rhymes and that one was always my favorite.

Monday's Child

Monday's child is fair of face,

Tuesday's child is full of grace,

Wednesday's child is full of woe,

Thursday's child has far to go,

Friday's child is loving and giving,

Saturday's child works hard for his living,

And the child that is born on the Sabbath day

Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.

I too was born on a Monday and as far as this poem serving as a horoscope goes, it is still true to this day. Even growing up in a hot climate-where the sun shines 345 days of the year-I managed to stay fair. The European roots of my ancestry holding too hard onto me, I suppose. Always jealous of the girls in my class that could tan, I bet they don't get confused with teenagers. That was really embarrassing when I was six months pregnant with my son and working at a high school. I even wore a different ring on my left hand that was more obvious to prove I was in fact a married lady. Speaking of which, I have been married over eight years and have an almost two year old little boy.

My little guy was born on a Tuesday, and he is the most observant little boy I've ever met. I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, or a Mormon as we're more commonly known, I think. And my little boy has been close to heaven since the day he was born. At a young age, he's learned to fold his arms for prayers and says "Bless you" after he or someone else sneezes. My little angel, born on a Tuesday is full of grace.

My husband, was born on a Thursday. When I think back to the poem I chuckle quietly to myself because it is so fitting for my little family of three. When I first met my husband, he wanted to study international business, then he decided to go the route of business management (not that different right?) all while working for a student loan company. Then he got laid off and had to find a job. He doesn't do well with not having anything to do. He came across a company that seemed to fit for him, however menial his tasks seemed. It was while working at this job that he got heavy in economics, specifically the Austrian Economics philosophy of economics (if you are even at all interested, my husband would be so proud first of all and secondly, here is the address http://mises.org/) Then, he decided he wanted to become an Economics teacher. When he realized that he would have to take too many classes to cover an undergrad degree in Economics, the idea of becoming an instructor in the field waned. He, I hope, has found a joy in his current line of work. It would certainly open a lot of doors for him to attend economic conferences with the Mises Institute in his spare time as a hobby. This Thursday's child has far to go and has gone far too.

I will try and post once a week as I work through Natalie Goldberg's "Writing Down the Bones" an excellent book to help the writer who doesn't want to give up on writing. I wish I could say I was this excited to go through her book when I had to for college creative writing class, but here's to trying. I'm somewhat glad that college bookstores are terrible for trying to sell gently used books back, but I probably wouldn't be in possession of half the books I bought if the bookstore took them back.

~ Lady Jane