No, I Did Not Fall Off the Face of the Planet

It's been so long since I've posted, I feel like my blog is something from my distant past. Well, as distant past as a 33-year-old can have.

This month was really crazy. With parties, concerts, and plain ol' celebrating, December normally gets that way, but my family had other interesting plans to throw in the mix.

My grandpa passed away this month. It was sad to think about him not being with us, but it's been 26 years this month (my grandma also passed away in December) since he's been without my grandma. And they were as tight as two peas in a pod could be. One of my cousins who spoke at the funeral mentioned how we always said, "Grommie and Gromps," (my oldest brother was their first grandchild, and he couldn't say grandma or grandpa, so they were christened with those two terms of endearment). And my cousin was right; it was never one without the other. I will miss him, but I am so happy he is reunited with my grandma. And I'll see them both again. ;)

Unfortunately, the other family news was not good. Did anyone happen to see on the news the house that burned down on the 21st of December, over on 100 East? Well, that was my grandpa's house. And it burned down the day before his funeral. My niece was living there and her friend was living in the basement. They all got out fine but the house is a total loss. They were able to salvage a few things. She had her phone with her, her guitar was a little smoked and needs new strings, and miraculously her laptop (with all of her beautiful photography and music on it) opened up bright and cheerful with 95% battery power! My niece hasn't had the easiest life, and that's putting it mildly, but I am constantly amazed at her strength and her shining resilience through adversity. She is such a good example to me.

There's always a silver lining to a cloud, though. It was inspiring to see the love, support, and assistance given to my niece. Food, clothes, towels, blankets, crafts, money, gifts. All these things came pouring into her life from sweet friends, neighbors, and strangers whose hearts were full of giving. I'm sure they felt peace and joy as they willing gave to one who was without. I know they felt the love of our Savior through their service. Thank you to all who helped and are still helping her get where she needs to be. You are constant in my thoughts and prayers.

You'd think that would be enough going on in my life, but you'd be wrong. What time wasn't spent seeing family for the funeral and helping my niece sort some things out was spent down on my knees in prayer. Not that that was a bad thing! It was just a different thing. The week before my grandpa passed away I was called to be the Primary President. I'm very humbled to think Heavenly Father has faith in me to fulfill this calling and serve those Primary children. Thus, the plentiful time spent in prayer. It has been an anxious, nervous, and exciting time. I love teaching and doing sharing time. It's my most favorite part of the calling. Those kids are so anxious to share their testimonies and what they know about the gospel and about Jesus that you can't help but catch their excitement. It's wonderful! The hardest part for me, and I knew it would be from the moment my bishop called me to this calling, is being patient in listening to the Holy Ghost. It has always been a struggle for me. But I have made some changes in my life and my heart that I hope and pray will make room for the Holy Ghost.

I hope all of you had a Merry Christmas and plan on having a Happy New Year!

Comic Relief for Lauren...and Anyone Else Who Needs It

Today I was talking with my friend Lauren, who just happens to be funny, smart, and beautiful. (If you know any nice, handsome, respectable, single men, let me know.) I was telling her what a crack-up Riley has been this week, and I told her I'd post all the nutty things he's said in the past few days. So if you're in need of a laugh, giggle, or even a chuckle, then read on.



For those of you familiar with our family, you'll know that Ben is the guy who frequently says "Are you going to finish that?" when someone is done eating but has left food on their plate. The other night I cooked pasta Alfredo and served it with a side of broccoli. (Sometimes when I'm really in a crazy mood, I'll just throw my broccoli on top of the pasta, covering it all in fattening, cholesterol-rich, lip-smacking delicious Alfredo sauce. But that's not what I'm here to tell you about.) Riley made quick work of his pasta, but left a couple of broccoli florets on his plate. He got out of his chair, picked up his fork and his plate containing the broccoli, and walked over to the cupboard under the sink to put the broccoli in the garbage. He slowly opened the cupboard with one hand and leaned his plate into the garbage. But then he paused. With his fork on his plate, almost ready to send the broccoli into the trash, he looked over at Ben and asked, "Do you want my broccoli, Dad?"

"No thanks, Riley," replied Ben.

And with a little shoulder shrug and a tilted head, Riley said, "OK. Suit yourself," and scraped his broccoli in the trash.



I have a loud voice. Always have had. It's genetic and environmental. That's what happens when you grow up in a house where your parents communicate through yelling loudly. I really try not to yell at my kids. Some days I'm more successful than others in my attempts to keep my voice down. One technique that has helped me is funny singing. Sometimes when the kids are being disobedient but not necessarily naughty, I sing a loud, funny, and terrible version of an opera singer. Just one big note with as much vibrato, however horrible it may be, as I can.

A few nights ago was one of those nights where Riley was in monkey-mode. Lots of noise and bad manners and swinging. He was supposed to be sitting in his chair, eating dinner. He was hanging by the edge of the table and swinging under it. And giggling of course. I didn't want to yell, so I belted out a fat, old note, exhaling as much tension as I could muster. Riley continued to giggle. I then said to him, "Riley, it's not funny," meaning the behavior he was exhibiting.

"It's funny when you scream like that!" he giggled back at me. Ben was having such a hard time not laughing with his mouth full of food, I thought the food might just spew forth from his nose.



Riley wasn't feeling his best on Sunday, but seeing as how both Ben and I were teaching, we just had to suck it up and go. Riley was a trooper. For a while there we wondered if he'd ever manage to stick out Sacrament meeting, but he's done remarkably well with the strategies we've added to help him out. Because he wasn't feeling well, we let him take Blue Blankie to church with us. Blue Blankie is his blanket he's had since he was a baby. And, well, it's blue.

Riley was snuggling with me for a while, then hopped off my lap to go draw with Ben. When he got off my lap, he turned around to face me, and with very serious eyes and much brow furrowing, he handed me Blue Blankie and said, "Use it well." Then he turned and went to Ben.



I don't know if these things are as funny to you as they are to me. Maybe these moments are those you-had-to-be-there kind of things. And witnessing these funny things in person is so much better because Riley has such an expressive face. It just seems nice that we're doing more laughing and smiling than yelling and time-outs. I just hope it keeps going in that direction.

Better Five Years Late Than Never

If you walked into my house and gazed at the pictures on the wall, you'd notice there is something, or someone, missing. And I could kick myself for it.

I am the youngest of my siblings, the baby of the family. My parents did what most parents do and took tons of pictures of their oldest child, my brother Todd. There are some really great black-and-white photos of him as a little fellow in the great outdoors, usually sporting a pair of cowboy boots. But, like most parents, with each child the selection and quantity of photographs diminishes. Which leaves me with very few childhood pictures of myself.

It's not a really big deal. There are enough pictures to satisfy my nostalgia and my children's curiosity of what I looked like when I was a kid. My little munchkins were highly entertained when my brother, who was visiting from West Virginia, and I went through my mom and dad's old box of photographs. I had some seriously awesome hair in elementary school! But my stylish 80s hairdos are not what I'm rambling about. What I'm rambling about is the fact that I did the same things as my parents and took less photographs with each kid.

In all honesty, I didn't do so bad. There are still lots of photographs of my kids when they were young; there are just more of Melanie. And more tangible photos of her. When Carter was born and into his infant/toddler stage was when digital cameras really arrived on the scene. I have one photo/scrapbook album of Carter, whereas I have four of Melanie. And I think the reason for this is that most of Carter's pictures are on the computer, where they and other photos provide a slideshow for a screen saver. It's actually quite nice, and Ben and I often find ourselves just watching the screen and remembering funny times with our kiddos.

So, even though I still have photos, I've been terrible at displaying them nicely framed on my wall for all to see. Right now I have a picture of Melanie from 4th grade; she's now in 7th. Her photo isn't too bad, because she still really looks like herself. On the other hand, Carter's photo is from when he was about two years old. Seriously, the boy is eight now! And Riley? Do you remember the something, or someone, missing from the beginning of this post? Well, that'd be my youngest, who is now five, who doesn't even have a picture on our wall...until now!

My amazing friend, Teona, took pictures of my kids last week. Granted, with my kids as subjects she has some beautiful material to work with, but she also did a fantastic job with the photos.

It was really hard selecting which ones to develop. As I'm typing this I realize I should have posted a bunch and had you all who read this vote on your favorites. But I would have picked what I wanted in the end anyway. ;) That's just my mother's prerogative.

We took these just up Cedar Canyon, where the bridge is by the Canyon Park trail. Riley's we took a few days earlier, and didn't make it up in time to keep the sun out of the photo. Carter and Melanie's were done early enough that we caught the shade, and they look wonderful! The contrast between the light and dark in the pictures is something I worry about when they're all on the wall, but it's better than what's there now!

I'm pretty lucky, don't you think?

My Love-Hate Relationship with the Harry Potter Series

With summer bringing a little less structure and a little more relaxation (I love being married to a teacher for that reason), we settled down as a family and watched the Harry Potter movies. We started with Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix and then moved on to Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, eventually jumping to the earlier movies. These two movies, which I love, got me all wound up for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, which comes out in November...well the first half anyway.

Of course, next I went online to watch the Trailer for HP7. I get the tinglies every time I watch it. And, yes, I'm a total nerd, I've watched it several times. I then decided I still needed more Harry Potter and decided to read the series over again.

I'm the kind of person who can read a book over and over again and still enjoy it. I don't remember all the details, just the main ideas and whether or not I liked the book. I used to hate that I couldn't remember what I read, especially when it came to testing in school, when my reading comprehension was tested. But now when I read it's for pure enjoyment and I don't have to remember everything. This lack of memory is what enables me to continue enjoying books I've previously read.

I first read Harry Potter in the summer of 2000. Our family was living in Vancouver, WA at the time, and Melanie and I had traveled down to Cedar City for my best friend's wedding. After enjoying visiting my friend and attending her wedding, I headed home, and my mother-in-law, Jeanne, was kind enough to drive home with Melanie and me.

I had heard about the Harry Potter series from several people, and they all said the same thing: Harry Potter is amazing, awesome, great, etc. I wasn't a big fan of fantasy books. I can count on my left hand the number of fantasy books I had read, and I remember thinking, "What is the big deal about a book about an 11-year-old boy wizard?" So on the way back to Vancouver, Jeanne handed me Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. "Read it," she said. Not one to argue, but to please, I didn't object when she climbed into the driver's seat. I settled in the back, next to a 20-month-old Melanie, (still bald, but very cute), and cracked open the beginning of Harry's story.

I could tell you how I couldn't put it down, but as we were in a car and there wasn't much else to do that statement wouldn't hold as much weight as it usually does. I'll just say I don't remember much of the drive because I was at Hogwarts with Harry, finding my way in the wizarding world, making friends, and helping Harry stop Voldemort from obtaining the Sorcerer's Stone. Needless to say, I was hooked. Here's where the love part of the relationship began.

At that time, the first three books were out, and Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire was to come out soon. I devoured the second and third books and impatiently waited for the fourth. What torture!

Little did I know there would be continual bouts of torture from the lovely J.K. Rowling. After each book came out, I would immerse myself in Harry's world with the same appetite as I did with the first book, only it intensified with each new book, as Harry and his world become more complex. I felt Harry's elation when he found Sirius and learned who his godfather truly was. I struggled along with him as he competed in the Triwizard Tournament, fought and made up with Ron, and battled and beat Voldemort yet again. I felt his frustration at being treated like a kid when he'd been through much more than most adults, especially when he lost Sirius. My stomach had sympathy butterflies every time Harry thought of Ginny and when he FINALLY kissed her. My heart stopped (and my hand flew to my mouth) when Harry watched Snape use the Killing Curse that caused Dumbledore to sail over the edge of the Astronomy tower and fall from its lofty height.

Then along came Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Hallows versus Horcruxes; Harry, Hermione, and Ron constantly on the run and narrowly escaping capture; taking Hogwarts back from the evil deisigns of the Carrows and Snape. Snape. I loathe him, and I didn't feel too badly when he met his rather sticky end. I really have trouble getting other things done when I'm in that book. Dishes don't get washed as quickly, laundry stays unfolded and slightly wrinkled in the laundry basket, and peanut butter sandwiches are usually what gets served for lunch...and dinner. How am I supposed to get those things done when I'm helping Harry, Hermione, and Ron find and destroy Horcruxes, not to mention rid the wizarding world of Voldemort?!

So what could I possibly hate about Harry Potter? Nothing. Nothing, except for the fact that I hate when it's over. I don't want to read anything else. I have Hunger Games, Catching Fire, and Mockingjay sitting on my shelf, waiting to be read, and I have no desire to read them. Ben told me I'll love those books, and I believe him, but all I want to do is go back to Hogwarts and stay there. I want Hogwarts to be real.

Pegasus

As many of you know, Riley is quite the chatterbox. (I seriously have no idea where he gets it from. You know, because my father and I are so very, very quiet, shy people.)

The other day our family was all riding together in the van, and Riley was telling everyone about his scary dream he had the night before. Apparently, Curious George screamed at a clown, who then ran away. I'd be scared, too, if Curious George started screaming. Ben started to tell him how he had scary dreams all the time growing up, which usually involved Ben being saved by a wizard, who helped him escape on the back of a Pegasus. Don't ask. Just don't ask.

This didn't sit well with Riley, who turned to Ben and in an embarrassed, hiding his face and hunkering down his shoulders kind of way said, "Um, Dad. Pegasus are kind of girlie."

A Break

For the past two years, when August finally rolled around, you could find me busily preparing my kids and myself for school. I became obsessed with notebooks, pens, pencils, index cards, highlighters, staples, backpacks, books.

I love the line from You've Got Mail where Joe Fox writes to Kathleen Kelly: "Don't you just love New York in the fall? It makes me want to buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address." Seriously, if Ben sent me a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils, I'd be in heaven...or close to it.

This year is different. Although you can probably still find me roaming the aisles at Staples or the school supply area at Wal-Mart, you won't find me at school. I've decided to take a break for a while. This decision did not come lightly or easily, but it came nonetheless.

There are several reasons for my break from higher education, one of which is the fact that I was losing focus at home. Some nights were so full of homework that things that needed to get done, things that helped me keep my sanity, were not getting done. Like dishes in the sink or a dirty kitchen table. And don't even talk to me about how my bathrooms were beginning to look. I know these seemingly meaningless household chores might not be the most important things in the world, but I LIKE having a clean house, and the fact that it never was clean was beginning to drive me insane.

I also didn't have enough time for my kids. I was caught up in getting everything done at school that my family suffered. I see it more in hindsight than I did at the moment. I kept telling myself what a good example I was setting for them by making this commitment to get my bachelor's degree. And while getting as much education as possible is key to success in life, putting my children 2nd in line does nothing for setting a good example. I didn't even have time to volunteer in the classroom, which is something I love doing. It's great to see how my children function in that setting, and I missed out last year.

Ben is also going to school, but he is working toward his masters in education. He'll graduate in Spring of 2011, so he only has one year left. He went last year, which means there were two of us going to college last year. And let me tell you, our house turned upside-down because of it.

I also struggled personally with going to school. I have this horrible habit/personality trait of taking an all-or-nothing stance, except for me it's never on the nothing side. Sometimes that can be a good thing, but when it came to school, and especially grades, I was far too set on getting that A!

So now what? Well, my plan is to wait until Riley is in first grade, which gives me two full years to think, and then I'll decide if I'm ready to go back to school. I'm not deciding right now because right now this break from school feels so good that I'd never go back. My hope is that in two years I will positively know what I want from college, and find a better balance between home and school. And if I don't go back, I'm really okay with that. As old-fashioned and "Leave It To Beaver" as it sounds, I like being a mom and a wife. I like doing laundry and keeping my house clean. I love when I make dinner and Ben and the kids tell me how delicious it is. I love my sanity...or what's left of it.

So give me that string of pearls, June Cleaver. I'm ready.

Carter's 8th Birthday!

I can't believe Carter is eight years old! I thought the idea of "time flying by" would lessen with each child, but it definitely goes by just as quickly with each one.

Carter has always been such a sweetheart...and he's always been a muncher and a lover of chocolate (he's a kid after my own heart).

Here he is partaking of delectable chocolate cake on his first birthday...


(Ignore this random, albeit cute, photo of Carter. I couldn't take it off once I put it on. Me and my computer illiteracy.)

...and here he is licking the batter out of the bowl on his eighth birthday. He couldn't even wait for the cake this time. The chocolatey goodness was just too tempting and he failed to resist!

Of course Riley had to help Carter clean up the cake batter, and Carter was kind enough to let his little brother help out. They make a very messy team.

I get the same crazy look in my eyes when I lick cake batter. Especially cake batter made from Pioneer Woman's "The Best Chocolate Cake. Ever." recipe.

Here he is opening one of his traditional favorite presents - money!

His Aunt Sally was very thoughtful and bought him the scout handbook. I hadn't even thought of him getting into scouts!

Again, here is Riley helping out. He wanted to buy Carter a Mystery Hot Wheels car for his birthday. Uh huh, sure you did, Riley. Just like when men go out and buy their wives power tools for their birthday. I know your evil plan, Riley.

Grandma Jeanne was a thinker and bought Carter his scout shirt, and she sewed on the troop number...and probably the other badges, but I'm not experienced with scouts so I'm not sure. Thanks again, Grandma!

He had a great birthday. Grandma Jeanne hosted a small family pool party in her backyard. The kids had fun and enjoyed the day, and the cake (if I do say so myself). Carter is such a fun kid. He has his moments where I swear his little brain is turned off and he's completely zoned out, which he is. But when he's on the ball, he's a smart little stinker.

Carter will start the second grade next month, and I am extremely excited to see what he accomplishes this year. He's such a good friend, and his teacher told us last year that everyone always wants to be around him. He's really good to his little brother (as good as an eight-year-old can be to his percocious four-year-old brother). He's an avid math kid and reader--he's already read the first two books in the Fablehaven series, and he's slowly working on the third.

At the moment he wants to be a scientist and a video game designer when he grows up. I'm sure that whatever he puts his mind to, he'll accomplish.

We love you, Carter Dean!

Entertaining Strangers

A couple of nights ago our family had just settled in to read scriptures together and to say family prayer. Riley had finally decided that he was going to sit still on my lap while we read, something he doesn't do very often. We all had our scriptures open, ready to read, when there was a knock on the door. And not just any old knock, but the "Shave and a Hair Cut" knocking. Melanie was expecting her best friend, Lindsey, to come by to pick her up for night games, so we let Riley answer the door. Normally, we don't let him answer because it wouldn't matter who it was; door-to-door salesperson, serial killer, or Santa Claus, he'd let them in. But we all thought it was Lindsey.

Riley rushes over to the door, yanks it open, and shouts, "We're having family prayer!" His shouting that would have been fine, if it would have been Lindsey. It was not. In fact, it was a couple of salespeople trying to clean our carpets. And you should have seen and heard the guy when Riley said that. He was seriously apologetic and laughing at the same time. It was great. Only Riley...

Melanie's Summer Concert

Melanie participated in summer band during the month of June. She had a great time. The band was small, about 12-15 kids, but they all wanted to be there, which made the teacher happier and the students happier. Melanie plays percussion and has really enjoyed it. She's planning on continuing with it through middle and high school.

Here is Melanie with her sweet, best friend, Lindsey. Lindsey plays percussion as well. This year there were two beginning bands and Melanie and Lindsey were not in the same section, but next year they will be in the same band class and they're both excited for that.

Here's a little pre-performance silliness starring Riley. We took this first picture, but he complained because his whole head wasn't in the frame, so then we took the next one...

and he was perfectly happy with this one. Granted, you can see up his little nose and his eyes are a little crazy, but that's just Riley!

Here is Melanie's cute group of band friends. From left to right: Lindsey, Melanie, Morgan, Sancie. Aren't they cute? Don't they look like trouble? I think so.


And here's one of their songs. My camera isn't the greatest, but it did a good job of capturing them. The song is called "The Bullfighter" and Melanie had a blast playing it. Lindsey is playing xylophone on the left, Melanie is playing bells in the middle (she played xylophone on the previous song, but that song isn't as cool as this one), and Clay is playing the marimba on the right. Mr. Jordan, Canyon View High's band director, came over to work with these three percussionists, and he is accompanying them on the piano. Enjoy!

Summer Games Tennis

Can I just tell you how insane last weekend was? I signed up to volunteer for and play tennis in the summer games, and Thursday, Friday, and Saturday were some of the busiest and hardest-working days I've put in in a long, long time! But it was all worth it. I helped out the tennis coordinator (Karen, you're awesome) and played womens singles and mixed doubles with Ben. Needless to say, I was slightly busy. ;)

Not only were those days plenty busy, but the whole experience was kind of surreal in a way. I set out to accomplish a goal to win a medal...and I succeeded! I earned a silver medal in singles, and it was a long road to get there.

My first match was Thursday at 12:30. I was a bit keyed up, as I hadn't played singles seriously in a while. Not to mention the day before was so ridiculously windy it was rattling the siding on our house and blowing everything all over creation. Thank goodness it died down and was beautiful tennis weather Thursday. Unfortunately, my mental game was all out of whack and I lost my first match 4-6, 5-7. A match I should have won. I knew I was a better player than my opponent, and not in a cocky I'm-so-much-better-than-her way, but just in the way that I knew I could have won. I just hoped that I would be able to meet up with her again and get her. Nothing personal. I just wanted the win. That loss put me in the loser's....I mean "consolation" bracket, which means I had to win from there on out to earn a medal. I played again that night at 6:30 and won 6-1, 6-0.

I played my next match Friday at 8:00 a.m. The weather was very nice, but only because the wind had slept in that day. (And I got to play on SUU's brand-spanking new courts. My, are they lovely. SUU finally got smart and went up to BYU to find out how they built their courts so they don't weather like the old ones. They also put in some new fencing and lights and painted all the fencing and light poles black. It really looks nice. If you haven't had a chance to see them and you're in town, you should drive by.) Anyway, I won that match 4-6, 6-3, 6-3. My opponent was young and just graduated high school...and very fit, skinny, and tall. She was also a lot of fun to play with, and challenged me in a way that improved my swings and serves. That match was where I really started to find a comfort zone with my serving, and I was loving it!

After winning that match, I wasn't scheduled to play singles until Saturday morning, but Ben and I had two mixed doubles matches Friday: one at 12:30, and one at 3:30, both of which we lost. And that was okay because I was D-E-A-D, and didn't know if I could keep up singles while playing doubles. I've never liked playing doubles in tennis as much as singles. I never really learned all the technicalities of playing doubles, and I'm really uncomfortable playing at the net. Singles has always been much more enjoyable for me. It's opposite in pickleball though, because I'd rather play doubles than singles. Weird. But this is me we're talking about.

Because I lost my first match, that put me out of the running for the gold medal. Which means I had to play and win all three matches on Saturday to win the silver. I tried not to think about in those terms, and it worked fairly well. I just took one match, one set, one game, one point at a time. I played Saturday at 11:00 and won that match 6-2, 6-0. She was a nice lady, a little older than me, but she didn't like when I hit with top spin, and the wind was messing with her head. That and she is from St. George and after two days was "still trying to get used to the altitude." Her words, not mine.

My next game was scheduled for 2:00, but because the matches were getting closer to the finals, a lot of them were going to three sets. And the girl I was supposed to be playing was in a mixed doubles match that, of course, went to three sets. And I hate to say it, but I was glad because she had really nice groundstrokes and a good serve, but her mixed doubles match wore her out. We played after she had a quick rest and I won 6-3, 6-3.

Now it gets good, because my next and final match determined who won the silver or bronze medal. And it was against the lady who beat me my first match. I couldn't have been more excited. I knew I was a different player than she had met on Thursday, but she didn't know that. Funny story...she showed up a little early and I was still playing the tired girl. She asked Ben what the score was, and at the time, I was up in the first set 4-3. She made a comment like, "So, she's doing okay, just trying to get on top." And Ben replied, "No, she's winning." She didn't say anything after that. Guess that's what assuming does. ;)

I think inside her head she told herself that she had been able to rest up all day Saturday, and I had already played two matches out in the wind and sun and I was tired. All of those things are true, but what she failed to realize is that I had been practicing my serve, forehand, and backhand nonstop for the past two days...while she had been home resting. I had also been adjusting for the wind and it was no longer messing with my game or my head. I'll just mention she wasn't a big fan of the wind and leave it at that.

It was the weirdest, most satisfying match I've ever played. I knew by the second game of the first set that I was going to win. I remember serving and thinking, "This is mine." I can't explain why I knew, but I just knew. And I was right. I won that match 6-2, 6-0. A little better than the first time I met her, don't you think?

It was such a good experience for me. Granted, Sunday morning my knees and feet were not very happy with me, but I was still on such a high! I learned so much about myself. Even though I'm 14 years older than when I played in high school, I'm a much better player. Life has helped to soften my temper and increase my patience. Those two things have improved my tennis game just as much as any physical work could.

I also had a great cheering section! Ben was there for all my matches, Melanie for some, Tonia, Jon, Jeanne, and Grandma for some. And some good, good friends were there to cheer me on and make me laugh. And remind me that the green was in. Which is sometimes helpful.

Now, for next year. Gold.

Cedar Canyon

Our family took a little drive up Cedar Canyon Monday afternoon for FHE. We stopped at a few of the lookouts and just enjoyed driving together. Thank goodness, none of my kids get carsick. Although, Carter was, as Melanie put it, "The Boy Who Cried Puke."

We stopped just a few miles up the canyon where the road is two lanes for the slower traffic. There is a little waterfall at the top of that part of the road and we pulled over to let the kids watch the water. It was flowing cold and fast and noisily!

I get to claim this beautiful girl as my own. She's such a funny kid. I love her easy, shy smile.And then there's my extremely cheesy almost-8-year-old. His smile says it all. Silly, silly, silly.

Then there's Riley. He just...does what he wants most of the time. He's definitely the child who has spent the most time in time-out. But he's also ridiculously smart and clever, and can reason his way out of most situations. And this is the picture that greets me every time I use my cell phone. It reminds me how incredibly blessed I am to have a family and also what wonderful, amazing, bright, and loving children I have!

Pickleball

I've had several people ask me, "What is pickleball?" Well, first of all, pickleball is a sport invented in 1965 by a couple of guys who were trying to find some entertainment for their families. They took an old badminton court, lowered the net, cut out some homemade wooden paddles, and found a wiffle ball. Put these things together, along with some basic rules and a ball-fetching cocker spaniel named "Pickles," and voila! Pickleball was born!

It's an interesting game, and unless you've played it, I can't give a better description than to say it's a combination of badminton, tennis, and a pinch of ping pong. The court is the same size as a badminton court, except that the net is only 36" high, the swings and placement of the ball is similar to tennis, and the paddles are like over-sized ping pong paddles.

The rules are fairly simple. However, like most sports, pickleball has a few strange rules--like no standing in the kitchen. What's the kitchen? It's the area directly in front of the net where players are not allowed to stand unless the ball bounces inside the kitchen. The serve is underhand and has to be kept under the waist, and the ball has to bounce once on each side before it can be volleyed (hit before it bounces on the ground).

The game is a lot of fun. In fact, I like it better than tennis. Because there's not the insane bounce in the ball, or the spring from the tennis racket strings, there's a lot more control, which makes it easier to keep the ball in the court. Also, the court is smaller, so there's less ground to cover to get to the ball. Don't let that be misleading--I've had just as much of a workout, if not more, playing pickleball as I have when playing tennis. The game is also good for people of all ages. I play with a group of ladies who are 10+ years older than me, and several of them can whip me good!

This year I've registered to play pickleball in the Utah Summer Games. The sport is still rather new around here, so there aren't a lot of people signed up. That could be good, but it's really not, because that means I'll be in the same bracket as some of the ladies who kick my behind every Tuesday and Thursday. But I don't care! I just love playing.

Mother's Day 2010

I remember being young and giving gifts to my mom on Mother's Day. My family grew up without a lot of money, and homemade gifts were the only thing we could ever afford. It didn't matter if it was a letter, a card, or flowers picked from her own garden, my mom would always say homemade gifts were the best.

This year, I totally agree with her. Not that I haven't appreciated what my kids have given me in years past, but this year was especially nice. Maybe it had something to do with my wrong-side-of-the-bed attitude I had when I woke up Saturday morning (Ben and the kids decided to celebrate Mother's Day a little bit early).

Melanie and I had a mother-daughter date for activity days on Saturday morning. I left the house not wanting to go, and being grumpy in general. Upon our return, I opened the door to find my living room floor all cleaned up and straightened, and the sweet, sweet smell of chocolate chip cookies sneaking out from the kitchen. That was my gift from Ben. Seriously, I think he puts an addictive chemical in his chocolate chip cookies. I even had one with breakfast this morning--it's Mother's Day! (Notice the glazed, slightly crazed look in my eyes? That's the cookies doing!)


After drooling for a minute over the cookies, Riley told me I had to find his gift. So he played "You're getting warmer/colder" with me until I found his gift, which I found terribly funny. He wrote me a letter that said, "To: Mom. From: Riley," and then Ben scribed a story dictated by Riley. It reads: "One day Riley was sitting on the couch. Precious came by. Precious got on Riley's lap. Then Precious got on the side of the couch. Then she got on Riley's lap again. Then she was tired and laid by Riley and then she purred. Then she really wanted to rub her face on Riley and then she did it. The End." Ben said he had to take out a few "ands." Personally, I would have done the same thing...and added in some commas, but I won't go there right now. I told Riley I loved his gift, and he jumped into my arms, wrapped his arms tightly around my neck and said, "I'm so glad you said that!" That boy has people-speaking, I swear!

Soon I heard Carter yelling at me to find his gift. He's yelling at me while his eyes were glued to the GameBoy screen, but at least he could still talk. I found his in his backpack, and it was a collection of really cute pictures his teacher had taken of him during the year. I wish I was more skilled in fiddling with my scanner, because I would have scanned some in and posted them. And granted, his teacher did most of the work, but it reminded me of things I would bring home for my mom from school. And he's so cute in the pictures!



Melanie was the last to give me her gift. Her teacher made some cute flowers out of gift tissue, and had the kids write something on the card. Melanie, being the thoughtful and creative kid she is, wrote me a haiku! It's really sweet: "We're chocolate fans!/We love English and writing/We love each other." How cute, huh? I love that Melanie and I enjoy reading, and enjoy the same books. Just the other day I stole five off of her shelf to add to my summer reading list!

(Carter and Riley both stood on a kitchen chair for their pictures, but Melanie was not. Let's not comment on the closeness in height between Melanie and me, okay? Thanks, I appreciate it.)

Grades Are In

This semester was definitely the most difficult by far. Not only was I challenged academically, but mentally and emotionally as well. Things just kept coming at me, but I survived! I did very well, in fact, and am glad to be done with this semester.

So now you get the regularly scheduled review of my semester. In order from least favorite to favorite:

Educational Psychology
Seriously, this class pushed my limits on trying not to rip my hair out because I was so bored. I'm sure the teacher is a nice man, but he started off the year by making a sexist remark, which I can't exactly recall at the moment. Every day he taught, it was the same thing. He'd give a power point presentation, read it virtually verbatim, and then pass out hard copies of his power point to us. It. Was. So. Boring. My friend usually drew pictures while I worked on my poetry. Did I mention it was boring? However, my perseverance through the boredom paid off.
Final grade: A

Introduction to Critical Literature & Theory
A mouthful, isn't it. You should see the book for this class--it's the one I posted on facebook about the page numbers that begin to look like dates. It's something I don't think I'll ever pick up again. Scratch that, I know I won't ever pick it up again. And lugging that thing around in my backpack was no picnic either. But enough about that blasted book. The class really had some interesting points. I learned a lot about theory, but there is so much to learn. Some people spend their entire lives studying philosophers like Kant, Longinus, and Hegel. I didn't say those people were normal, I just said they were people. The professor ran the class well; she was always open for class discussion rather than lecture, and she never made me feel like I had a stupid question or comment. For me, that earns her big bonus points. All in all, not bad.
Final grade: A

Advanced Poetry
Because this semester was so full of stuff, I felt like I didn't have time to write any good poetry. I also felt like I peaked last semester with my poetry skills. Those two things combined made for an overall disappointment for the class. I've worked with this professor the two semesters prior to this one, and I really enjoy her teaching. I just could not get things on paper like I wanted them. I had less trouble writing essays for my literature classes. Not good for a creative writer! This is also the class where there were issues with a project for the class. Long story short, because of an inept designer, the book made and illustrated with my poetry in it is not something I want to buy. How sad is that?
Final grade: A

Woodwind Ensemble
A lovely friend of mine, who happens to be in Hawaii right now, the little twerp, told me to come and join woodwind ensemble. I did, and loved it. I love playing the flute, and this was a good way to ease myself back into playing. The professor for this class is firm in what she wants, but at the same time she can be absolutely hilarious. Frighteningly so. It was a wonderful experience.
Final Grade: A

Young Adult Literature
This class was the best of the semester, and it's also the class that helped me to grow the most as a person. I've known the professor for a while, we played in OSU for one season together and he's infamous among band geeks at Cedar High. He is a brilliant professor. His teaching style forced me to do my best, not because I had to, but because I wanted to. He told me what I was doing well, but also gave me pointers on what I could improve.

This is also the class that tested my resolve on some moral issues--mainly the content of some of the books in the class. It's where I learned that I don't want to be in a place, or a major for that matter, where I know my morals will be put to the test, and if I hold myself up to what I believe, my grades will suffer for it. I learned so much more that what the course description stated!
Final grade: A

I was really surprised at the 4.0 this semester. I reiterate, this semester pushed me in ways I wasn't prepared for. But thankfully I'm in good hands. My Heavenly Father, my sweet and supportive husband, and my amazing kids all look out for me. I am very blessed. And lucky. ;)

I Despise Being Sick

Two nights ago, I started to get a sore throat. I went to bed and woke up the next morning feeling horrible. Not only did my throat hurt when I swallowed, but my ears hurt as well. I didn't sleep last night because of the pain each time I swallowed, and this morning I felt much the same as yesterday.

I know, wah wah. But Ben and I were talking this morning and I figured out why I hate being sick so much. Besides the fact that I just feel lousy, the entire house is out of whack until I feel better. When Ben gets sick, it doesn't mess with anyone's schedule here. At work, sure, but that doesn't affect our family. When Melanie, Carter, or Riley gets sick, it doesn't affect Ben as much because I'm the one who is home with them anyway. He's great to pitch in and help with extra stuff, but it still doesn't make any problems. But when I get sick, it disrupts the entire household.

Like this morning. I really did not want to go out in the cold and wet (dang you, snow!) to take the kids to school. So I spent a good 20 minutes seeing if Melanie could get a ride (thank you, Shanna) and Carter could get a ride (thank you, Tonia). Then Ben has extra work with helping the kids get ready while he's trying to get out the door (thank you, Ben). It was mass chaos, mayhem, and confusion this morning. No wonder I was grumpy.

And to top it off, the woodwind ensemble is performing tomorrow night for the graduate reception. We have a practice session today, but there is no way I can go blow in my flute for an hour today and two hours tomorrow. I made an appointment with the doctor, but he's not in today, so I have to wait until tomorrow afternoon. It wouldn't be a big deal, but I worry it will damage my grade. And I worry that the professor will think I'm just trying to get out of playing.

I worry too much. I need to stop.

Thank goodness for good family and friends who take care of me when I'm sick. I'd really like to stay well for longer than a month at a time. It's just hard with four of us at four different school locales. And next semester Riley will be in preschool, so that means each one of us will be at a different school. Endless opportunities for germs to party at our house. Bring on the hand sanitizer, hot water, and soap!

Just Four More Days

Of school, that is. This semester has been the longest, most difficult, and definitely the most trying. There are four days of school this week and then the following week is finals. I only have one final, and its open-book/open-note, so I don't really consider it a final. And once I turn in my paper for Critical Lit & Theory (which I have yet to write, and it's supposed to be 8-10 pages) I will be officially done and free and sane. Well, not completely sane, but partially sane. I can't fight genetics, you know.

A Lesson in Assertiveness

As part of the requirements for my poetry class, our class collaborated with graphic design and art students to put together books of poetry. I was so excited when I found out what we would be doing. A book of my very own poetry!

It started out fine. I met with my designer and illustrator at the beginning/middle of the semester to give them some poems. We talked about book size, how many poems/pages, etc. Just basic formality stuff. My illustrator said his artwork would reflect his interpretation of my poetry, and that was fine because I knew I didn't have a say in what was illustrated, just as he didn't have a say in what my poetry was. It seemed like things would be great.

Then my designer and illustrator dropped off the face of the earth. I didn't hear from either of them for weeks. I finally contacted my designer to ask if I could send him a revision of one poem, which I told him at the first meeting I would be doing as the semester progressed. The initial poems I gave him were just as much for the illustrator to get a sense of my writing as they were for the designer to know how many poems there would be. Other classmates talked about how they were meeting with their designers once a week to make sure things were going in the right direction. One classmate even had her illustrator draw a picture and she wrote a poem to go with it. "How neat," I thought. And so I waited.

And waited, and waited. And heard nothing. Until this Monday, when my designer contacted me to ask if I wanted hardcover or paperback for the book. I thought, "It's done? How can that be? I still have a revision to one of my poems. I haven't edited anything." I sent him a text and told him I had one more revision, and it would not change the feel of the poem at all, just some stanza changes and better wording. He told me he had already submitted the book and finalized it online. That means he did that without me editing and giving the okay to print. Big no-no.

And here's the kicker. One of my poems is missing the last line. The last line. You can't do that to a poem. Sure, you might be able to pull one out of the middle, but not the last line. It's the most important one!

Needless to say when I previewed the book online, I was furious. But once I calmed down, I was even more upset at myself. I know my designer should have contacted me. If I were a real client, he would have had major issues with sending something out to print without the author's okay. Legal trouble. But I should have contacted him to see what was going on. Only I didn't know the deadline for the project.

I'm just frustrated. This could have been a great experience, but it wasn't. I know I didn't have a say in the artwork, but one of the illustrations shows the backside of a nude woman. It isn't really in your face, it's kind of out-of-focus. I think he used pastels, but I'm no artist and I can't be sure. The point is, I never would have put my poetry in a book with a girl's naked bum in it. That's just not me.

And my professor said I should contact my designer to let him know that I am not okay with all of this. But I'm so mad I feel like I can't say or write anything or it will be too mean. Help!

Self-Grounding

The semester is winding down. Only three weeks of school left, then finals week, and then this semester is over! I am so anxious for a break. With Ben taking 9 credits of masters' classes, and me taking 14 credits for my BA, our house and family has been a little crazy this semester! We are all looking forward to summer and a little bit of laziness.

Because it's down to the wire time at school, I really have to stay focused. I have one 8-10 page paper that I haven't even started yet, one 2 1/4 page paper that needs some serious revision and needs to be turned into a 6-8 page paper. I have to finish my poetry sequence, which means writing 3-6 quality poems before the semester is over. I have a resource binder to finish (to start, for that matter) for educational psychology. Needless to say, I've got my work cut out for me.

And that is good and bad. Good, because I know what needs to get done, and it's not really difficult-no studying all hours of the night for finals or anything-just more time consuming than I'd like. Bad, because I have this problem. It's called recreational reading...and I can't stop!

I've always enjoyed reading, but my enjoyment has blossomed since Melanie and Ben have become just as avid of readers as I am. We've started buying books, which is great, but now I have these shelves filled with books that are calling my name, reaching out to me, and I can't help them right now!

I just thought I'd share with you the books on my "to read" list. In no particular order (feel free to suggest an order so I know where to start) they are:

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins
Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins
The Boy in the Striped Pajamas by John Boyne
The Great and the Terrible Series by Chris Stewart (six books)
Gregor the Overlander (same author as Hunger Games and Catching Fire, five books)
The Neverending Story by Michael Ende
River Secrets by Shannon Hale
Forest Born by Shannon Hale
The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexander Dumas
Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortensen and David Oliver Relin
Fablehaven: Keys to the Demon Prison by Brandon Mull
Great Expectations by Charles Dickens
Angle of Repose by Wallace Stegner
Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow by Jessica Day George
Fairest Gail Carson Levine
Mere Christianity by C. S. Lewis
The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis
American Gods by Neil Gaiman
Beauty by Robin McKinley

The following books are not on my shelf, but on my list:
The Professor's House by Willa Cather
This Side of Paradise by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Call It Sleep by Henry Roth
The House of Mirth by Edith Wharton
The House of Seven Gables by Nathaniel Hawthorne
Sister Carie by Theodore Drieser

So, do you think I'll make it? Do you think I'll ever see the lovely rays of the summer sun? I really don't think I'll make it through all of them...unless I turn into a hermit and live in the forest without talking to anyone, and that just isn't me. I know I'll kick myself for asking this one, but do you have anything you'd add to the list?

Misunderstandings...

The boys and I were eating breakfast this morning when Carter said, "Mom, Jesus must be really old by now."

I giggled quietly and said, "Well, Carter, I think people stop getting older once they're resurrected."

"What does resurrection mean?" Riley asked, sincerity in his cute little voice.

I opened up my mouth to answer him when Carter replied in a spooky Halloween-like voice, "It's when people come back from the dead!"

I giggled some more and explained that wasn't quite what it meant and gave Riley a better explanation.

What a way to start a weekend!

A Small Concern at the Dentist

Yesterday I took a trip to the dentist. It had been almost one year since I had visited the dentist's office, so it was high time for a cleaning from the dental hygienist. She was a nice woman, good at the typical small talk you'd hear in the dentist's office. Except for one strange comment.

She was cleaning and inspecting my teeth and gums and noticed the bridge I have. "Wow, that's a really nice bridge. You can't even tell from the front that there's a crown or anything," she said with her fingers in my mouth. "Did Dr. Sorensen do that or someone else," she asked, still with her fingers in my mouth. What is it with people at the dentist's office asking you questions with their fingers in your mouth?!

Slipping her gloved fingers out of my mouth, she gave me a second to respond. "No, it wasn't Dr. Sorensen, it was Dr. Williams," I replied. (Sadly, Dr. Williams passed away a few years ago.)

Then she said, "Before he died?"

Seriously?

It's a good thing her fingers were back in my mouth, because I'm afraid my sarcasm would have got the better of me at that point. And it's not a good idea to be sarcastic with someone who is inspecting your gums and your teeth with a sharp implement.

p.s. No cavities!

A Treat for Melanie and Me

Thursday was a great day for Melanie and me. One of the books my YA Literature class read this semester was Princess of the Midnight Ball by Jessica Day George, who just happens to be a friend and collegemate of my professor. Luckily enough, the university sprang enough moolah to bring Miss George to SUU!

My YA Literature class combined with the Advanced Fiction class for a special presentation by Jessica. She is hilarious! It was an hour and 20 minutes of good information on the processes of writing intertwined with her witty, and slightly sarcastic and sassy, remarks. My professor gave the OK to bring Melanie along with me, and she had a fantastic time hearing from Jessica.

Later that evening she gave a book reading and signing. It was just a lot of fun. She read from her upcoming book, Princess of Glass, which is a sequel to Princess of the Midnight Ball, both of which are a retelling of certain fairy tales. Do you want to know which one? Well, I'm not going to tell you. You'll have to read the books to find out. Anyway, that evening a couple of my friends who are in YA Literature with me, Melanie, and I were just hanging around and chatting with our professors and Miss George. She was packing up to leave and gave Melanie an advanced reader copy of her book - and it won't be on shelves until May! It's the copy that she/her editor/her agent/the publishing company (as you can tell, I'm not sure who sends it out) sends out to magazines and what not to review her book. Melanie was speechless! Actually she was very polite and smiled and said thank you. And then she couldn't stop talking about how nice it was of Jessica to give her that and how excited she was to read it. So I guess she wasn't speechless at all. She was speechful, but that doesn't have the same ring to it.

It was a really good experience for me. Slightly disheartening when Jessica showed us all her scrapbook of rejection letters. 188 known (she admitted to burning a few in the kitchen sink) rejection letters. And yes, they are in an actual scrapbook. Some of the letters sent back to her were so mean. But it is nice to know, that I don't have to be a master at English to be a writer. I just have to love what I'm writing.

I should have been a smart mom and taken a camera with me. Kicking myself as I type. No pictures for you, no pictures for Melanie. Oh, well.

Books, Books, Books

One of the classes I'm taking this semester is Young Adult Literature. It is a fabulous class! We're reading 10 books geared toward young adults, five for 9-12-year-olds and five for 12 and up. I should have written reviews as I've read each one, but I didn't think about it until now. So you get four in a row. I'll try to keep on top of it. :)

Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of Nimh by Robert C. O'Brien
This is a book I have wanted to read for a long time, but any time I'm in a book store I always pass it up for something else. I remember watching the movie when I was a kid, but I didn't realize how often I watched it until I sat down with my kids the other day when they were watching it and I could still quote a lot of the movie. The movie is based, let's say "loosely," on the book. They took several liberties with the movie, so if you watch the movie and then read the book or vice versa, just think of them as two separate, unrelated stories and you'll be fine. The book is about this mouse who is trying to save her family. In order to do that she really has to make some courageous leaps and as she does so she learns a lot about the group that helps her to do so. It's a mix between science fiction and fantasy, but comes closer to an animal fable. Melanie read it after I was done and loved it, and now Ben is reading it. Wonderful book.

Silent to the Bone by E.L. Konigsburg
This is one of the books that is supposed to be geared toward the 9-12 group, but I wouldn't suggest it for that young age. There are some serious subjects that kids who haven't had the sex talk with their parents might be a little uncomfortable with. Nothing inappropriate, just better for the older age group. I won't let Melanie read this book yet. That being said, I loved this book. Konigsburg is a fantastic writer, I had trouble putting this book down. There is a lot in the book about the benefits and disadvantages of silence. It's definitely in the realistic fiction category. I learned a lot about reading books by reading this book.

The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman
Neil Gaiman is a British author, who apparently has done every kind of writing imaginable. Neil Gaiman also wrote Coraline, which I loved. He has a different style of writing that took me some getting used to. This books falls nicely into the 9-12 category. I say this book would be in the fantasy section. This book is about a boy who grows up in a graveyard because of things that happened to his family when he was a baby. I learned a lot about boundaries and how we make assumptions about people. Another great book.

The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick
Wow. This is a beautiful book, and I don't get beautiful from the theme of the book but rather from the artwork inside it. It's kind of a graphic novel and is just amazing. This book is about a boy who is separated from his family and is trying to survive and find his place in the world. It's really great. Melanie read this a while ago and kept getting me to read it, but its 500+ pages turned me off. Don't let this happen to you! Seriously, you could read the whole book in a few hours. Another one for realistic fiction. And the art is amazing. And the story is great.

And that's all for now. This class is a two-edged sword. We are reading all these fantastic books
and all that does is bring up titles for other fantastic books, which I won't be able to get to until summer. Seriously, I have so many books lined up for summer I feel like I'll never make it through them all!

New English Major at SUU and Poetry Stuff

It's so very exciting that the Board of Regents passed the vote for a new English major at SUU. The English department now offers something similar to a double major, but with slightly fewer credits. It is a Creative Writing/English Education Emphasis. It's a little bit of creative writing, a little bit of English education, and a little bit of literature.

My college professor/friend mentioned it to me last year and I was interested but didn't know how soon it would be available. It will officially be in the catalog for the 2010-2011 school year. So, I'll have to change my major, again, but not departments. :)

A friend of mine was teasing me about how many times I changed my major (technically, I just went back and forth a few times) and she said the reason why I had changed so many times is because they had not created my major yet! Makes perfect sense to me.

Saturday, January 30 is the last day of the Parowan Gap exhibit, so if you haven't had a chance to see it, well, you should get your fanny over there and do so. It was such a neat experience. Especially when fellow students and I were asked by my professor to come to her Intro to Creative Writing class and read our poetry. It was so surreal. I just remember how much I wanted a poem of mine to be on those walls, and it was! It was a very rewarding experience, and it truly helped solidify the knowledge that I'm in the right major/department/area, whatever you'd like to call it. And I have to say it's about time I feel that way!

p.s. It's truly creepy how much what I'm learning in critical theory is coming into poetry. One of the essayists has mentioned three of the philosophers or theorists we have been or will be studying. And these theory ideas have come up several times in YA literature. I am really beginning to love my major! Now, if only my friends at school would stop acting like high schoolers life would be good.

Spring Semester 2010

These first couple of weeks have been like an intermittent tornado - I keep getting put up and down and up and down until I don't know which way is which. I think the three-day weekend (Hallelujah!) helped me get my schoolwork, housework, churchwork, in order...at least for the time being.

I figured I'd stick with tradition and give you all a run down of my classes.

Critical Literature & Theory - The name alone gives me the heebee jeebees. (I love the way that is spelled! Just looking at it made me giggle!) I like the professor. She is really appreciative of class discussion and never makes anyone feel (OK, I never feel) inferior with their comments. I worry about that because I think I never know as much as I should. Sometimes we talk in circles in that class. Like right now, I'm supposed to be reading Kant, some dead guy who is talking, or I would say babbling, about the "Sublime." I can't even go down that path right now or my post would be ridiculously long. Suffice it to say I really don't care what some dead guy said about defining the sublime. And that's why I'm posting instead of reading his...manure. Sorry Kant lovers.

Educational Psychology - You know, I really love psychology. I find the behavior of the human mind and the reason and chemistry behind our behaviors fascinating. I do NOT in any way, shape, or form find this class fascinating. The other day my status on facebook said something to the effect of why professors who teach education are really terrible educators. It was this teacher. Oi vay! Let's just say I get a lot of homework done in that class.

Advanced Poetry - It's good. We workshop our poetry on Thursdays. I love getting feedback from my friends and fellow students about my work, so I love Thursdays. Tuesdays we respond to the reading we were assigned. Each student will take a day to lead the discussion. I dread my turn. I'm not a deep reader. I'll have to read my section several times in order to generate questions. But the writing is good. A lot of writing, but it's all good. Well, it's not always good or all good, but you know what I mean.

Young Adult Literature - The best class and definitely one of the best teachers I've ever had. Seriously, we get to read 10 YA novels and discuss them. This class also gives each student the chance to lead. We're all assigned a certain portion from one of the books for the semester and then we take 20 to 30 minutes to present and teach the class according to our need. Elementary Ed, Secondary Ed, College, Creative Writing. It's great. I'm nervous for my turn, but I get to teach an excerpt from The Hobbit. Yay! Any questions you have about Creative Writing? Especially about The Hobbit?

I also was asked to be a grader for my poetry professor. Seriously, I get paid to read and respond to the Intro to Creative Writing students' work. Nice. :)

My (sort of) First Publication

Last year at this time I was enrolled in Creative Writing, and we began the semester with a unit on poetry. I was fairly unfamiliar with poetry - the closest I had come to poetry in a long time was Shel Silverstein.

At that time the Braithwaite Art Gallery was hosting an exhibit called "Zion: A Creative Response." Students and faculty from from the Art and English departments at SUU traveled to Zion to express their feelings, thoughts, and experiences of Zion.

My professor took our Intro to Creative Writing class down to the exhibit for class one day. Most of the students who had their poetry on display in the exhibit were there that day to read their poetry. I was in awe of what they had done. Especially because Zion is something I'm so familiar with. I remember thinking, "I would love to have my poetry on that wall!" Little did I know...

Last semester a group of SUU students and faculty once again collaborated with the Braithwaite Art Gallery to put together an exhibit for this semester entitled "Parowan Gap - God's Own House." To fill one of the requirements for my Intermediate Poetry course, I had the option of visiting the Parowan Gap and writing an additional poem about my experiences there. I knew I wanted to work toward getting my poetry on that wall, and so I chose to write an additional poem about the Gap.

I worked like a maniac at that poem. It went through several drafts, several conferences, and several moments of insanity. Although the moments of insanity might not have much to do with the poem, but more to do with genetic inheritance. Either way, it was a crazy time.

Tonight was the opening reception for the exhibit, which will run now through January 30. I'm proud to say my poem is hanging there among amazing poems written by some fantastic poets, who just happen to be my fellow classmates!

It's truly such a surreal thing to have worked on something like that. I've known for a year that I wanted to have a poem with my name to it hanging on the wall. And it was just fantastic to see it there, and to watch people quietly, respectfully, milling around, reading and enjoying art and poetry.

Because my poem is hanging in the exhibit it also qualifies to be in the Kolob Canyon Review. KCR is a peer reviewed journal that showcases art, photography, poetry, prose, etc. from SUU students, faculty, and alumni. I'm proud to say come Aprilish, the newest edition of the KCR will be out and my poem will be in there!

So go check it out! Here's the link for the info on the Braithwaite Art Gallery.