As of about 2 weeks ago I started working for my friend Keira as her real estate assistant. I just made my first single listing website and want to see if the link works so here it goes...
CLICK HERE TO SEE THIS AWESOME HOUSE!
Let me know if it works and what you think of it.
In other news I have an interview at the school I want to work at tomorrow. School starts Aug 22 so I would really like to know how early I have to get up! I took a crazy Middle School Math content Praxis II a couple of weeks ago to help make me more marketable as a teacher. There seems to be an overkill of history teachers in the area so maybe they will like me teaching youngsters math. The position tomorrow is for Special Ed though. That is what I am finding out I really enjoy working in. Especially the Emotional Disorders group, which is what this school specializes in.
Anyway, just want to see if my handy computer skills worked!
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Fantastic Fifteen
Somehow I blinked and my sweet, chubby, blond baby grew up into this handsome, dark, curly haired young man.
Carter turned 15 last week. Got his driver's permit and will be a sophomore this fall. I swear I was just doing these exact same things yesterday!
Carter is so much fun. He and I laugh together and share jokes and music. He is so smart and strives to do what is right. He takes his priesthood responsibilities seriously. He is idolized by his little brother and sister and has a great group of friends. His dimples are the subject of much adoration amongst the mothers of the teenage girls at church and it embarrasses him to know end.
Little do they know how his cheeks used to be so chubby they bounced when he ran.
And he used to call tunnels "the loo," and drove his Thomas train through the Loo and around the figure 8 track for hours.
Ever focused, he could watch a snail crawl along the edge of a bucket for hours in the rain under an umbrella.
He used to puke in the car all. the. time. And still gags when a baby spits up near him;).
Loves to read, although texting has replaced some of that. However he is probably the first boy I have ever met that actually has read every book ever assigned by a language arts teacher. Often reading ahead and finishing before the class. And for those of you who know how hard he has struggled with dyslexia, this is huge. I spent hours agonizing over words with him. Years in the classroom volunteering to build a relationship with his teachers that helped them help him when no services were offered even after his testing showed huge discrepancies in his abilities. More hours reading aloud to him and his siblings every night to foster in them a love of books.
I love you Carter. Happy 15th. I'm so glad I get to be your mom.
Carter turned 15 last week. Got his driver's permit and will be a sophomore this fall. I swear I was just doing these exact same things yesterday!
Carter is so much fun. He and I laugh together and share jokes and music. He is so smart and strives to do what is right. He takes his priesthood responsibilities seriously. He is idolized by his little brother and sister and has a great group of friends. His dimples are the subject of much adoration amongst the mothers of the teenage girls at church and it embarrasses him to know end.
Little do they know how his cheeks used to be so chubby they bounced when he ran.
And he used to call tunnels "the loo," and drove his Thomas train through the Loo and around the figure 8 track for hours.
Ever focused, he could watch a snail crawl along the edge of a bucket for hours in the rain under an umbrella.
He used to puke in the car all. the. time. And still gags when a baby spits up near him;).
Loves to read, although texting has replaced some of that. However he is probably the first boy I have ever met that actually has read every book ever assigned by a language arts teacher. Often reading ahead and finishing before the class. And for those of you who know how hard he has struggled with dyslexia, this is huge. I spent hours agonizing over words with him. Years in the classroom volunteering to build a relationship with his teachers that helped them help him when no services were offered even after his testing showed huge discrepancies in his abilities. More hours reading aloud to him and his siblings every night to foster in them a love of books.
I love you Carter. Happy 15th. I'm so glad I get to be your mom.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
In which I reveal an allergy
A few weeks ago a curious thing happened. I ate some of the first watermelon of the season shipped fresh to Alaska on a 3 week voyage from some southern hemisphere country. Afterwards my lips started to tingle. And maybe slightly burn.
I thought maybe they were just chapped or possibly sunburned, but then I remembered our solar rays have the strength of birthday candle and the heat of a refrigerator and was puzzled by the sensation.
It happened mildly a few more times after eating watermelon but I was still in denial that something as innocuous as WATERMELON could actually cause an allergic reaction.
Until I helped out at a missionary luncheon where I was in charge of cutting six large watermelons for 80 elders and sisters. I snitched a piece or two and sure enough the tingle/ burning occurred on my lips but then the unexpected happened. My left hand, the one that got all juicy from holding six watermelons still while I cut them, started tingling too!! Weirdest feeling ever! Sort of like right under my skin was carbonated and bubbly. Not itchy, not as burning as my lips but kind of fizzy.
So, it's as official as I can get: I am allergic to watermelon. I don't know if I should avoid it for fear I might one day go into anaphylactic shock, or just live with mild/moderate tingling sensations when I eat that tasty summer treat.
But a post about a trip to the ER could be interesting, eh my three readers?
I thought maybe they were just chapped or possibly sunburned, but then I remembered our solar rays have the strength of birthday candle and the heat of a refrigerator and was puzzled by the sensation.
It happened mildly a few more times after eating watermelon but I was still in denial that something as innocuous as WATERMELON could actually cause an allergic reaction.
Until I helped out at a missionary luncheon where I was in charge of cutting six large watermelons for 80 elders and sisters. I snitched a piece or two and sure enough the tingle/ burning occurred on my lips but then the unexpected happened. My left hand, the one that got all juicy from holding six watermelons still while I cut them, started tingling too!! Weirdest feeling ever! Sort of like right under my skin was carbonated and bubbly. Not itchy, not as burning as my lips but kind of fizzy.
So, it's as official as I can get: I am allergic to watermelon. I don't know if I should avoid it for fear I might one day go into anaphylactic shock, or just live with mild/moderate tingling sensations when I eat that tasty summer treat.
But a post about a trip to the ER could be interesting, eh my three readers?
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Those questions
The ones that drive me nuts are the ones I couldnt possibly know the answer to. Such as tonight, "Did they update the playground because the old equipment was a liability?"
I have no idea. I did not sit on that committee.
Or this one, "How come they call
Alaska the last frontier when it's really space the final frontier?"
Wow. I have no idea.
Then there is the interminable, "Why do I have to go to bed when it's still light outside?"
Because I'm your mother and I said so.
There are countless other questions. When we were kids we watched the original Smurfs every Saturday morning. Whenever there was a journey the Smurfs would ask, "Is it much farther, Papa Smurf?" Papa Smurf would answer, "Not far now." But after the third time that a Smurf asked that question the exasperated Papa Smurf would declare, "YES IT IS!" As kids we would go on long road trips with our parents. Inevitably one of us would ask that question, "Is it much farther, Papa Smurf?" and it would make us all laugh.
I've been listening to the Christian Rock station KLOVE lately. There is a song I've heard called "The Long Way Home." It reminded me of the talk by Elder David Baxter from this last April's General Conference. Elder Baxter quotes a story from President Hinckley about a single mother with seven children. She was feeling the immense burden of all that was demanded on her to care and provide for her family. She asked Heavenly Father if she could come home to Him, just for the night. His answer to her fleeting prayer was, "No, little one.... But I can come to you."
So when we feel like one of the Smurfs, wondering how much farther the long way home is, we just need to ask our Heavenly Father to come to us and join us on our journey.
And He will.
I have no idea. I did not sit on that committee.
Or this one, "How come they call
Alaska the last frontier when it's really space the final frontier?"
Wow. I have no idea.
Then there is the interminable, "Why do I have to go to bed when it's still light outside?"
Because I'm your mother and I said so.
There are countless other questions. When we were kids we watched the original Smurfs every Saturday morning. Whenever there was a journey the Smurfs would ask, "Is it much farther, Papa Smurf?" Papa Smurf would answer, "Not far now." But after the third time that a Smurf asked that question the exasperated Papa Smurf would declare, "YES IT IS!" As kids we would go on long road trips with our parents. Inevitably one of us would ask that question, "Is it much farther, Papa Smurf?" and it would make us all laugh.
I've been listening to the Christian Rock station KLOVE lately. There is a song I've heard called "The Long Way Home." It reminded me of the talk by Elder David Baxter from this last April's General Conference. Elder Baxter quotes a story from President Hinckley about a single mother with seven children. She was feeling the immense burden of all that was demanded on her to care and provide for her family. She asked Heavenly Father if she could come home to Him, just for the night. His answer to her fleeting prayer was, "No, little one.... But I can come to you."
So when we feel like one of the Smurfs, wondering how much farther the long way home is, we just need to ask our Heavenly Father to come to us and join us on our journey.
And He will.
Monday, May 28, 2012
SAFETY!
When I was a a kid farting was just part of life in the Smith household. We called it pooting since farting was a crude word. I'm now learning for me it's a slight intolerance to dairy but I don't know what the rest of the family blames it on. My brothers used to play the "Doorknob & Safety" game. And it has now filtered to the next generation as my kids and most especially my lovely daughter, have picked up on it.
I recently posted about how "proud" i was of my daughters skills on Facebook and was surprised by how many people didn't know how to play. So for the more refined members of society, here are the rules:
1. When you fart you must say "Safety," not excuse me, IMMEDIATLY.
2. Failure to say this before someone else says "Doorknob!" brings on consequences.
3. The consequences are the one who yelled "Doorknob," gets to hit the farter until said farter touches a ROUND doorknob.
4. The shape of the doorknob is apparently important to this next generation of fancy longhandled doors 5. Successfully calling "Safety," after every fart keeps you safe from being hit.
6. It does not however, erase any smell, and you may be properly ridiculed for that.
So proud that from one generation to the next, tradition lives on!
I recently posted about how "proud" i was of my daughters skills on Facebook and was surprised by how many people didn't know how to play. So for the more refined members of society, here are the rules:
1. When you fart you must say "Safety," not excuse me, IMMEDIATLY.
2. Failure to say this before someone else says "Doorknob!" brings on consequences.
3. The consequences are the one who yelled "Doorknob," gets to hit the farter until said farter touches a ROUND doorknob.
4. The shape of the doorknob is apparently important to this next generation of fancy longhandled doors 5. Successfully calling "Safety," after every fart keeps you safe from being hit.
6. It does not however, erase any smell, and you may be properly ridiculed for that.
So proud that from one generation to the next, tradition lives on!
Monday, April 2, 2012
The snow.
We have had a few days in the fifties around here which to Alaskans is kind if like summer. Our just two inches shy of record breaking snowfall this year has left berms taller than our street signs and the median of the highway so full you couldn't see the other side. But those aforementioned fifties have leveled things off a bit.
As we speak.. er... Write... I am sitting in one of my favorite spots. It's at the top of Agony Hill on what I have come to call "Prayer Bench." and since I am typing on my phone and uploading a few pictures from it hopefully you'll see it somewhere in this post;). And as a side note, when I ran these trails in the fall before the snow fell, I was shocked to see how tall this bench really is. Without snow I can't touch the ground when I sit on it.
But all winter as I clamber up this rather aptly named hill, I stop at the top. I drink in the silence and stillness that only comes from a thick blanket of snow and dark. And I always pray.
I give thanks for two strong legs that carry me up here. For a heart beating fast and pumping blood to warm my fingers in single digit weather. I am grateful for the tremendous beauty that surrounds me and the utter peace I find out here. I marvel at the stars and the moon do bright you don't even need your headlamp.
It has been a place of refuge. Meditation and solace.
It's a sacred place for me.
So as the temperatures rise and my trails get icy, I will have to hang up my skis. Hopefully the peace I find out here can be taken with me in my heart and pulled out for those rainy days ahead.
As we speak.. er... Write... I am sitting in one of my favorite spots. It's at the top of Agony Hill on what I have come to call "Prayer Bench." and since I am typing on my phone and uploading a few pictures from it hopefully you'll see it somewhere in this post;). And as a side note, when I ran these trails in the fall before the snow fell, I was shocked to see how tall this bench really is. Without snow I can't touch the ground when I sit on it.
But all winter as I clamber up this rather aptly named hill, I stop at the top. I drink in the silence and stillness that only comes from a thick blanket of snow and dark. And I always pray.
I give thanks for two strong legs that carry me up here. For a heart beating fast and pumping blood to warm my fingers in single digit weather. I am grateful for the tremendous beauty that surrounds me and the utter peace I find out here. I marvel at the stars and the moon do bright you don't even need your headlamp.
It has been a place of refuge. Meditation and solace.
It's a sacred place for me.
So as the temperatures rise and my trails get icy, I will have to hang up my skis. Hopefully the peace I find out here can be taken with me in my heart and pulled out for those rainy days ahead.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Middle school never looked so good.
I've been substitute teaching almost every day since the end of February. My first day back was in Carter's high school. We rode in together. He texted me between classes and came and got me to eat lunch with him. It was so cute. And I LOVED being back at school. It felt like I was born to be there. It maybe it was just my inner need getting high on pencil shavings.
Since then I have done some teaching at other high schools and Carter's old middle school and the alternative high school for the behaviorally and mentally challenged. In fact the bulk of my days are at the alternative school. The classes are small, the metal detector and isolation rooms are different, but the kids are awesome.
I love it.
But after a week there I've done a few days back at regular middle school. Oh my gosh. The "gangsta" kids from suburbia make me laugh now; they have no idea what "tough" neighborhoods are really like. The trouble makers are nothing compared to the day I had two security guards remove an uncooperative student from my room. The language was Disney compared to the onslaught my ears tune out.
The teaching at the alternative school is so rewarding when the kid I was sent extra security for just in case decides to shoot hoops with me in PE for an hour and then later in the week actually has an entire conversation about The lost Roanoke colony later in the week. And this is a kid who never says anything. Then come to find out he reads books. Like intense big books and no one knew it. Another sweet boy does read books and I gave him a list to take to the library. The one removed from my class? He was so stoked to tell me all about Hunger Games after remembering I wore my Team Peeta shirt last Friday.
These are kids who's lives are really and truly hard. Yet I hope that there is some way can be a bright spot for them. I have always enjoyed working with this demographic. I always sai this is the kind of school I would love to work at.
So to quote the vice principalas she took my resume "Let's see how this plays out."
Since then I have done some teaching at other high schools and Carter's old middle school and the alternative high school for the behaviorally and mentally challenged. In fact the bulk of my days are at the alternative school. The classes are small, the metal detector and isolation rooms are different, but the kids are awesome.
I love it.
But after a week there I've done a few days back at regular middle school. Oh my gosh. The "gangsta" kids from suburbia make me laugh now; they have no idea what "tough" neighborhoods are really like. The trouble makers are nothing compared to the day I had two security guards remove an uncooperative student from my room. The language was Disney compared to the onslaught my ears tune out.
The teaching at the alternative school is so rewarding when the kid I was sent extra security for just in case decides to shoot hoops with me in PE for an hour and then later in the week actually has an entire conversation about The lost Roanoke colony later in the week. And this is a kid who never says anything. Then come to find out he reads books. Like intense big books and no one knew it. Another sweet boy does read books and I gave him a list to take to the library. The one removed from my class? He was so stoked to tell me all about Hunger Games after remembering I wore my Team Peeta shirt last Friday.
These are kids who's lives are really and truly hard. Yet I hope that there is some way can be a bright spot for them. I have always enjoyed working with this demographic. I always sai this is the kind of school I would love to work at.
So to quote the vice principalas she took my resume "Let's see how this plays out."
Friday, March 23, 2012
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Tender mercy
I've been known to scoff at blog posts bearing evidence of "tender mercies" given to writers. I realize my ignorance in such scoffings of seemingly ordinary events and the impact they had in the lives of the authors. I hope to forever recognize the hand of God in the lives of others as I truly have had countless mercies shown to me lately. I would like to share one such event.
Ive been working on watching my budget. Like seriously trying to get some things taken care of. Today Olivia woke up from a dream of buying a new dress. She wanted one from David's Bridal like her flower girl dress from my brother's wedding. Well that wasn't going to happen, but the idea of the local Salvation Army popped into my head. We headed there with the promise of never knowing what you'll find and it was to be an adventure.
Olivia was excited. She also wanted a toy and Ethan wanted to explore. Well there were only two dresses in the little girls section but both Olivia's size. We tried them on and chose a great dress that will serve nicely for Easter. She couldn't be more thrilled. That was miracle enough for me. But the Lird wasn't done.
Ethan came home from Wyoming in love with the game Stratego. I had been wanting to find it for him but it had never quite made the priority list to look past Walmart or Fred Myers. Well while perusing the small toy section, I looked up to find, you guessed it: Stratego. With all it's pieces and the instruction manual in two languages. For $3.50.
I wanted to cry. What are the chances that we would go to a store I've only been in twice before and the kids didn't know existed, and find exactly what we needed. Exactly what my children needed today.
To anyone else it wouldn't be a big deal. To read this, it does not seem extraordinary. But the love that filled me from my Heavenly Father through this tender mercy and shone in the light of my son WAS extraordinary.
Ive been working on watching my budget. Like seriously trying to get some things taken care of. Today Olivia woke up from a dream of buying a new dress. She wanted one from David's Bridal like her flower girl dress from my brother's wedding. Well that wasn't going to happen, but the idea of the local Salvation Army popped into my head. We headed there with the promise of never knowing what you'll find and it was to be an adventure.
Olivia was excited. She also wanted a toy and Ethan wanted to explore. Well there were only two dresses in the little girls section but both Olivia's size. We tried them on and chose a great dress that will serve nicely for Easter. She couldn't be more thrilled. That was miracle enough for me. But the Lird wasn't done.
Ethan came home from Wyoming in love with the game Stratego. I had been wanting to find it for him but it had never quite made the priority list to look past Walmart or Fred Myers. Well while perusing the small toy section, I looked up to find, you guessed it: Stratego. With all it's pieces and the instruction manual in two languages. For $3.50.
I wanted to cry. What are the chances that we would go to a store I've only been in twice before and the kids didn't know existed, and find exactly what we needed. Exactly what my children needed today.
To anyone else it wouldn't be a big deal. To read this, it does not seem extraordinary. But the love that filled me from my Heavenly Father through this tender mercy and shone in the light of my son WAS extraordinary.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Revisiting
I've been rather nostalgic lately. So for that I am grateful I have this blog! I've been reading about our move here and what a monumental task that was for our little family. How much Carter helped me that day in the airport while JaDee and I had to be in two different lines (one for livestock aka Champ and 2 cats; and one for ammunition and firearms... I got to handle the ammunition) [Dec 2008]. I read about Olivia's 4th birthday [Nov 2009]; the Christmas of 2009 and Ethan's many faces; and all the Iditarod fun [Mach of 2009, 2010 & 2011].
We have always been a family of adventure, craziness, and well, adventure. Life had been good. It's been fun. Always fun. I've been remembering all the fun.
It's good to see how different everyone looks back then. And if I remembered to sit down with my camera at the computer I could show you a recent picture. The Olivia of yesterday was so round faced and chubby. Ethan IS now round faced and chubby as he gets ready to sprout past me and Carter any day now. Carter looks like a grown up and is an even more handsome version of himself 3 years ago.
I'll get pictures up soon. Promise.
Oh those little munchkins of mine, I want to eat them I love them do much.
If you have been following me on Facebook you would know I am getting my teaching certification together for up here. I had to take the first round of Praxis tests to prove my basic competence (which I am BTW). And I am sending in a whole packet to the Alaska Ed Department here this week. I'm not sure what I'm doing with all this certification yet, but I want to put the feelers out, and be ready if something comes up.
So I was looking back and remembering all those tough and crazy times. Because I'm sure teaching will be a piece of cake after being a stay at home mom for 15 years!
We have always been a family of adventure, craziness, and well, adventure. Life had been good. It's been fun. Always fun. I've been remembering all the fun.
It's good to see how different everyone looks back then. And if I remembered to sit down with my camera at the computer I could show you a recent picture. The Olivia of yesterday was so round faced and chubby. Ethan IS now round faced and chubby as he gets ready to sprout past me and Carter any day now. Carter looks like a grown up and is an even more handsome version of himself 3 years ago.
I'll get pictures up soon. Promise.
Oh those little munchkins of mine, I want to eat them I love them do much.
If you have been following me on Facebook you would know I am getting my teaching certification together for up here. I had to take the first round of Praxis tests to prove my basic competence (which I am BTW). And I am sending in a whole packet to the Alaska Ed Department here this week. I'm not sure what I'm doing with all this certification yet, but I want to put the feelers out, and be ready if something comes up.
So I was looking back and remembering all those tough and crazy times. Because I'm sure teaching will be a piece of cake after being a stay at home mom for 15 years!
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Emergencies
Mom's have to be prepared for everything. Maybe that's why I have so much in my purse and my mini van. There's lots of things to keep life running smoothly. Everything from gum to maxi pads for those things that crop up.
However the one thing that they need the most in every occasion and the one thing that never ceases to rip you apart is your love. I don't think we fully appreciate our own mothers and the very lifeblood they give us until our own has been poured out of our veins and into our children's.
It can leave us hollow and empty but our faith lifts us and carries us on. It is these emergencies of our own, the ones where we are in need of being carried instead of one who carries, that we have to call on a strength greater than our own to get us through.
And remarkably that strength can be found back in our children. As Ethan plays the piano and squeezes me in a tight hug, as Carter shares a joke and rests his taller than me head on my shoulder, as Olivia leaves me a fallen bloom from a flower under my pillow and wants to read me a story:
I find strength.
However the one thing that they need the most in every occasion and the one thing that never ceases to rip you apart is your love. I don't think we fully appreciate our own mothers and the very lifeblood they give us until our own has been poured out of our veins and into our children's.
It can leave us hollow and empty but our faith lifts us and carries us on. It is these emergencies of our own, the ones where we are in need of being carried instead of one who carries, that we have to call on a strength greater than our own to get us through.
And remarkably that strength can be found back in our children. As Ethan plays the piano and squeezes me in a tight hug, as Carter shares a joke and rests his taller than me head on my shoulder, as Olivia leaves me a fallen bloom from a flower under my pillow and wants to read me a story:
I find strength.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
MJ revisited
Oh my gosh! I cannot get this song out of my head!! It has been giving me chills since I heard it Tuesday night. I have always loved the cello. I actually taught myself how to play it in eighth grade when my orchestra teacher wouldn't let me switch from the violin that I had been playing since third grade. I would go down at lunch to one of the practice rooms and borrow a cello and some books and figured the basics out on my own. Sadly I never got near this good nor do I remember much of the bass clef. Anyway, cellos are my favorite stringed instrument. Bar none, even though I can still play my violin...barely. 9 years of private lessons and orchestra make it hard to forget. Kind of like riding a bicycle.
What is funny is I am really not a Michael Jackson fan. Like at all. As in never will I stop for a Michael Jackson song on the radio nor have I ever. But this episode of Glee made all of his songs sound good!
Here are the same guys (2Cellos) performing With or Without You, by U2....Another song that gives me chills.
Friday, January 27, 2012
Shopping anyone?
I have always found shopping therapeutic. Retail therapy if you will. There are worse vices I'm sure. I could be smoking crack or drinking cough syrup for instance. But I've always loved to shop. I'm afraid my daughter does too. She always wants to go and just look around, she tells me. And the looking leads to touching which leads to buying...
Anyway grocery shopping doesn't count. See the point of shopping is to only think about me for a while. To do something for just me without worrying about the needs and demands of others. Every few months I would need to drop a few hundred dollars at Gap, J Crew, REI or a trendy online boutique like Shabby Apple. I would buy a new purse as I've mentioned in other posts, or new workout clothes from Sports Authority.
It's been that way for years; this buying without necessarily needing. As far back as I can remember I trolled the mall with Monica, Laura, Karen or Kim. Courtney and I always plan a shopping trip when we get together. So is shopping alone like drinking alone? Is it ok to be a social shopper much like a social drinker vs a singular shopper instead of a solo drinker? Can shopping truly be a recreational activity or is it strictly meant to be a necessities only activity like eating food (which can also be addicting and a vice in and of itself). Sometimes yes, shopping can be recreational. And not everything is meant to last more than a season or two based on either style or quality. Like couple of sweaters I picked up at Old Navy two years ago. They were cheap and trendy and fun to wear, but I don't need them anymore. They were $20 each. They served their purpose and moved in to the great Good Will trash bag in the sky.
But honestly, over the last six months or so I have really tried hard to not give in to unnecessary shopping. This slow transformation started when I found myself reaching for the same pants (my Prana hiking pants) all summer and lately the same shirts (my long sleeve running shirts I got on clearance at Sports Authority or my REI half zip pullover from Ben and Katie) over and over again. And after all the weight I've lost since August, I am down to 2 pairs of jeans and 3 pairs of pants that fit. (and those have been living in bins for several years in hopes they would fit again).
Although I hesitate to clear out the closet of my larger stuff in case the weight comes back.
But after reaching for these same items over and over again I started noticing they were the same type of items I gravitated towards in the stores too. I didn't need another black long sleeve shirt; I had two at home yet here was a third in my hand. Or sure those pants are cute, but aren't they just like the grey pair I got at J Crew last summer?
I started asking myself if it has really been good, all this shopping. The bags of clothes I give to goodwill every year could be a testament to that it's not. So I really have made a conscience effort to stop and ask myself if I really need things before I buy them or am I just buying it to satisfy another need, a need to feel good, to fill something that is missing. For example, my yoga pants were falling down all during my workout the other day. I got them at Gap, since I can buy them with a shorter inseam. I went and picked up a new pair of pants, running tights in capri length (those are falling down too) and a new sports bra (usually the boobs are the first to go when a woman loses weight and my current sports bras were a little big to begin with...) But I put back the cute hoodie and new shirt when I asked myself if I really needed those too answered myself: No.
I thought that was a good call and was proud of those choices. The challenge will be as I raise a daughter and even a son with these tendencies to be a good example and a good teacher of smart shopping.
And all while I'm still learning too.
Anyway grocery shopping doesn't count. See the point of shopping is to only think about me for a while. To do something for just me without worrying about the needs and demands of others. Every few months I would need to drop a few hundred dollars at Gap, J Crew, REI or a trendy online boutique like Shabby Apple. I would buy a new purse as I've mentioned in other posts, or new workout clothes from Sports Authority.
It's been that way for years; this buying without necessarily needing. As far back as I can remember I trolled the mall with Monica, Laura, Karen or Kim. Courtney and I always plan a shopping trip when we get together. So is shopping alone like drinking alone? Is it ok to be a social shopper much like a social drinker vs a singular shopper instead of a solo drinker? Can shopping truly be a recreational activity or is it strictly meant to be a necessities only activity like eating food (which can also be addicting and a vice in and of itself). Sometimes yes, shopping can be recreational. And not everything is meant to last more than a season or two based on either style or quality. Like couple of sweaters I picked up at Old Navy two years ago. They were cheap and trendy and fun to wear, but I don't need them anymore. They were $20 each. They served their purpose and moved in to the great Good Will trash bag in the sky.
But honestly, over the last six months or so I have really tried hard to not give in to unnecessary shopping. This slow transformation started when I found myself reaching for the same pants (my Prana hiking pants) all summer and lately the same shirts (my long sleeve running shirts I got on clearance at Sports Authority or my REI half zip pullover from Ben and Katie) over and over again. And after all the weight I've lost since August, I am down to 2 pairs of jeans and 3 pairs of pants that fit. (and those have been living in bins for several years in hopes they would fit again).
Although I hesitate to clear out the closet of my larger stuff in case the weight comes back.
But after reaching for these same items over and over again I started noticing they were the same type of items I gravitated towards in the stores too. I didn't need another black long sleeve shirt; I had two at home yet here was a third in my hand. Or sure those pants are cute, but aren't they just like the grey pair I got at J Crew last summer?
I started asking myself if it has really been good, all this shopping. The bags of clothes I give to goodwill every year could be a testament to that it's not. So I really have made a conscience effort to stop and ask myself if I really need things before I buy them or am I just buying it to satisfy another need, a need to feel good, to fill something that is missing. For example, my yoga pants were falling down all during my workout the other day. I got them at Gap, since I can buy them with a shorter inseam. I went and picked up a new pair of pants, running tights in capri length (those are falling down too) and a new sports bra (usually the boobs are the first to go when a woman loses weight and my current sports bras were a little big to begin with...) But I put back the cute hoodie and new shirt when I asked myself if I really needed those too answered myself: No.
I thought that was a good call and was proud of those choices. The challenge will be as I raise a daughter and even a son with these tendencies to be a good example and a good teacher of smart shopping.
And all while I'm still learning too.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
tagged
OK it has been waaaaayyy too long since I kept a steady set of posts on this blog. I am going to try to do better since facebook just doesn't give you the depth you always need :)
My blogging buddy Mormon Hermit Mom tagged me in a post. We have "known" each other through our blogs for years now. And to be tagged means I have to answer some questions posed by her, and I in turn will come up with my own questions to tag some other blogging buddies. Here goes it:
Now, 6 my tagged people are
Courtney
Sarah
Amy
Cara
and Penny
Nancy
Although anyone who is reading along and wants to participate is welcome to. I will let the tagged people know I tagged them with a comment on their respective blogs. Your mission, once tagged, should you choose to accept is, will be to answer my questions listed below and then tag 5 or 6 more people to answer questions of your own.
My questions
What is your favorite book and why?
Where do you see yourself in 10 years?
Where is your favorite restaurant and what do you order there?
What was your first childhood memory?
What is the most daring thing you have ever done or what are you the most proud of accomplishing?
My blogging buddy Mormon Hermit Mom tagged me in a post. We have "known" each other through our blogs for years now. And to be tagged means I have to answer some questions posed by her, and I in turn will come up with my own questions to tag some other blogging buddies. Here goes it:
If money were not a problem, where in the world would you most like to go?Hmmm, that is a good one. Lately I have been dreaming of Hawaii. I know lots of people who go there this time of year from Alaska and wouldn't mind joining them! But ever since my brother got back from his honeymoon to Fiji two years ago, I have always wanted to go there. Two weeks at that resort they stayed at, in the hut built over the ocean, with the glass floor to look at the reef below them from their bedroom... Oh their pictures looked heavenly. It is so far away from everything, I bet I could disappear there for a while with a stack of books and be very happy. But if I was taking the kids it would have to be Disney World. I haven't been there since I was 17 and I love it there. I had wanted to originally go there on my honeymoon but didn't and always wish I had. Now I want to take my kids.
Nothing. I am wearing pajama bottoms. But funny story about pockets...I took the Praxis I test for my teaching certification on Monday. I took the test at this a testing center in Anchorage. Wow. There was some tight security! My pockets were searched. Seriously! I had to turn them inside out and all this pocket lint fell on the floor. Then in my back pockets I had to pull them open so the lady could look down them to see if I had contraband Praxis information. And on top of that was a metal detector in case I ...well I can't imaging what else I could be smuggling in after they searched my pockets. That and each testing booth has a security camera poised over top of it to monitor the every move of the test taker. I kept putting my hands in my lap under the desk as I was thinking and then wondered if they thought had smuggled in some plastic braille note cards to cheat off of and hurried to put my hands back on top of the desk.
What's in your pocket?
Mr. Irwin, 7th grade social studies, Roxboro Middle school. He is half the reason I went into both political science and finally history and finally teaching. He treated us obnoxious middle schoolers like adults and made us aware of the world around us. It was the year Dukakis ran for president (1988) and we did a lot on presidential campaigns. I remember the infamous picture of Dukakis in the tank with his helmet that was later said to have cost him the presidency since he looked so small and fragile as a military leader against the backdrop of the enormous and powerful tank he was riding. But it wasn't until later when I was studying the effects of the media in politics at BYU 11 years later that I realized the impact of that picture on the whole campaign as I compared it to the Nixon/Kennedy debate of 1960.
Who was your favorite teacher?
Hmmm. Well I live in a suburban neighborhood so it is someone's house, who I sadly do not know since we Americans don't know half our neighbors.
You walk out your door, go to the corner, turn left, walk two blocks and turn right. What are you standing in front of?
What was the first word you said when you woke this morning/afternoon/evening?
Hi. I said Hi. At least I remember saying Hi.
Now, 6 my tagged people are
Courtney
Sarah
Amy
Cara
and Penny
Nancy
Although anyone who is reading along and wants to participate is welcome to. I will let the tagged people know I tagged them with a comment on their respective blogs. Your mission, once tagged, should you choose to accept is, will be to answer my questions listed below and then tag 5 or 6 more people to answer questions of your own.
My questions
What is your favorite book and why?
Where do you see yourself in 10 years?
Where is your favorite restaurant and what do you order there?
What was your first childhood memory?
What is the most daring thing you have ever done or what are you the most proud of accomplishing?
Sunday, January 8, 2012
July 1995
You know when you get on facebook and someone asks "Where were you on this and such date?" Or they tell you to search for the song that was number one the year they were born? I mostly ignore those. Except one caught my eye recently and maybe since I am on the downhill slide of 30s into my 40s now (I turned 36 a couple weeks ago *gasp* she revealed her age! What's next her weight...) I got to thinking about how very long ago July 1995 was.
So where was I. Well, interesting month, that July when I was 19. I was home from my freshman year at BYU. I had a job as an Especially For Youth (EFY) counselor lined up for the first week of July at Cornell University. I was to be one of the "local" counselors to supplement the ones that were coming out from Utah as the EFY conference traveled to different universities across the country bringing their program to LDS kids all over. It was a really great experience.
But shortly thereafter my family moved to Texas. In fact we would have already moved except for my EFY job. So by mid July I said goodbye to my childhood home of 12 years, childhood friends, childhood sweetheart(s), and I had 6 weeks or so of summer in the blistering heat of Tyler Texas and spent a majority of the day lounging by my parents pool and working on my tan.
I also was a bit productive and got a job at a record store in the mall...Camelot Music actually. Anybody remember that chain store? I consider it one of my most interesting hiring stories because they were not in fact hiring. But I was, as I mentioned, very tan and had a cute little sundress on when I went in and asked for an application. Filled it out in the food court and brought it back and asked to speak to the manager. Not only did I have a great tan I had and have a love for music. I must have impressed him with my shear knowledge of the Seattle Grunge scene and believe it had nothing at all to do with my tan legs.
Considering I was leaving to go back to college in just 5 weeks I must have known a lot about music. ;)
When I look at that summer I can't help but reminisce about those carefree days by the pool and sorting cassettes and CDs in the air conditioned mall. My biggest concern was having enough room to pack all my CDs.
That was my last summer of being carefree. See in July of 1996, I got married to a boy I met in December. And July of 1997 Carter was born to the slip of a girl that was 21 year old me. If I had known in July 1995, that was to be the last summer by the pool, the last summer I got a tan like that, the last summer I could spend the days chatting up music and listening to demo releases of upcoming artists all day long at work what would I have done differently?
I doubt anything.
So where was I. Well, interesting month, that July when I was 19. I was home from my freshman year at BYU. I had a job as an Especially For Youth (EFY) counselor lined up for the first week of July at Cornell University. I was to be one of the "local" counselors to supplement the ones that were coming out from Utah as the EFY conference traveled to different universities across the country bringing their program to LDS kids all over. It was a really great experience.
But shortly thereafter my family moved to Texas. In fact we would have already moved except for my EFY job. So by mid July I said goodbye to my childhood home of 12 years, childhood friends, childhood sweetheart(s), and I had 6 weeks or so of summer in the blistering heat of Tyler Texas and spent a majority of the day lounging by my parents pool and working on my tan.
I also was a bit productive and got a job at a record store in the mall...Camelot Music actually. Anybody remember that chain store? I consider it one of my most interesting hiring stories because they were not in fact hiring. But I was, as I mentioned, very tan and had a cute little sundress on when I went in and asked for an application. Filled it out in the food court and brought it back and asked to speak to the manager. Not only did I have a great tan I had and have a love for music. I must have impressed him with my shear knowledge of the Seattle Grunge scene and believe it had nothing at all to do with my tan legs.
Considering I was leaving to go back to college in just 5 weeks I must have known a lot about music. ;)
When I look at that summer I can't help but reminisce about those carefree days by the pool and sorting cassettes and CDs in the air conditioned mall. My biggest concern was having enough room to pack all my CDs.
That was my last summer of being carefree. See in July of 1996, I got married to a boy I met in December. And July of 1997 Carter was born to the slip of a girl that was 21 year old me. If I had known in July 1995, that was to be the last summer by the pool, the last summer I got a tan like that, the last summer I could spend the days chatting up music and listening to demo releases of upcoming artists all day long at work what would I have done differently?
I doubt anything.
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