Conquering a Fear...And the Beautiful Result!

Once upon a time a sensitive mother purchased yards of expensive silk brocade for her daughter as a pre-wedding gift... mostly because said daughter had been fawning over the Asian design and rich royal blue color for a long time and this mother thought it would go a long way towards soothing her 'day-before-the-wedding' jitters...and a kimono pattern so that yardage would go to good use. (Wait, at this point the daughter didn't even own a sewing machine! What were they thinking?)

Sadly, GUILTILY, the fabric sat in the daughter's fabric stash for 9 1/2 years because this gal didn't know HOW to read a pattern and was terrified of destroying the gorgeous fabric.

Until last week.

I am that daughter. I do sew, but the only clothing I've made were very simple/forgiving projects for my kids (costumes, straight lines, online tutorials for easy things, ya know)... Until I decided enough is enough. After all, the logical accusation was that I was wasting the gift just as much by NOT using it as I would be if I messed up the sewing. Time to put on my big girl pants and JUMP IN!

I decided I would rarely use a kimono, so why not try something I could wear more regularly? The brocade lent itself to a fit-and-flare design because of the weight of the fabric. I bought a pattern (Simplicity 1418), made a mock up in muslin first so I could learn a few things, and read and reread those instructions! I am really proud that I stretched myself to a) figure out how to read a pattern, b) sew darts, c) sew pleats, d) sew fitted sleeves, e) sew in a zipper and f) make adjustments to the pattern so that it was a custom fit! Weight loss not-withstanding, I still have my original body shape with which to contend, so adjusting the pattern to my specs proved a challenge indeed! I'm happy to say, I conquered! (and I think my next dress will be even better!)

and you know what? I've really been bitten by the fashion sewing bug! I whipped up this argyle peasant dress for Gwen for Valentine's Day (free fabric from a friend! Thanks, Rach!) and I've already got fabric and plans for Easter dresses... and even a couple more projects that should keep me busy into summer! Wondered where I've gone? Check my sewing room! I'll be there for a while!

Moral of the story? In conquering a fear, I've unleashed a monster!

Ships that have Sailed

No pictures of the girls on this post. Just a lot of thoughts. Here is an instance when my blog is my journal. so only read on if you are actually interested in what goes on in my head. If not, if you just like the funny posts, you are under no obligation to continue. I promise, I won't get my feelings hurt. :)

During our long day of flying to come back out to Idaho, Eric and I had opportunity to talk about a million different things. But the one that really stuck out to me--because I haven't taken time to really think about it...EVER-- was our discussion about 'wishes' or 'desires' or 'dreams' or whatever you would like to call them. A discussion about all the possible things we almost did with our lives as far as education and profession goes. Now I'm not talking about when you are 6 and you want to be a firefighter or when you are 10 and think you will be the next Jane Goodall (um, yes, that was my goal in 3rd-5th grade). Those dreams are valid, but my thoughts revolve around the choices in HS and college that shape your 'career'. Do you ever have those 'what if' moments? Like I said, I had never really thought about all the things I almost did, until now. Suddenly 'what if' is more on my mind.

I love art. and I love biological science. In my younger years, I was pretty good at it, if I do say so myself. I'm not even kidding when I tell you that at the end of 10th grade I told my adviser I wanted to illustrate biology textbooks as a career. I think I would have been amazing at it. Eric tells me there is actually HUGE demand for qualified science-artists who can illustrate what the intellectuals can't. But, that ship has definitely sailed. I don't remember much biology. And this field would not afford me the interaction with people that I thrive on.

I thought about being an architect. The art and engineering was both lovely and challenging... but I was intimidated and scared to pursue such an ambitious field. Plus, BYU didn't have an architecture program. If they had, I might have given it a shot. But that ship has sailed too. I am neither prepared to go into such a rigorous field nor confident that I could design anything fabulous. I guess I will just have to be one of those admirer/critics that appreciates fantastic architecture when she sees it.

Then I was going to be an industrial designer. Again, that combination of art and science was so intriguing to me. But I got in there and realized I was not trendy enough to make really great designs, nor skilled enough to really master all the industrial materials, nor interested in the huge time commitment and ridiculous work hours. I didn't fit in the program and really didn't see myself fitting in the profession. Again, I can admire great design when I see it... but don't want to be the one making it.

I thought I'd make a pretty fabulous landscape architect because I love gardening and being outdoors. But I got talked out of it (I won't say by whom), which I think is a shame. Because I could have been great in this field. But that ship has sailed too because going into landscape would require full time education which I'm not willing to do with little kids... and let's face it, when they aren't little any more, I probably won't want to do it then either. I'll probably keep it as a hobby-- or at least be an annoying client looking over the shoulder of whomever comes to trim our trees when I'm 50. :)

I thought about floral design-- the hands on, almost sculptural elements were satisfying along with the 'outdoorsy' quality to it. The foil, of course, is the business side of things. Plus it could easily digress into floral grunt work and lose that creative, stimulating quality. It can't be all weddings and events, there are also the 'boring' bouquets and balloon thingies.

I thought about illustration because it is a career with a more stable paycheck. I could definitely have done that, and I suppose that door hasn't entirely closed, but it would require self-marketing and business sense.... which, shamefully, I don't possess much of. Which, by the way, is why I would make a terrible 'artist'. I'm not interested in trying to get into the gallery scene, which is where the money is to begin until commissions come in. And that's just it. I'm not eager to seek out commissions.

I love sculpture. That hands on thing again. And I can do it outside or work with natural materials like wood and stone that are just so satisfying. I'm very good in sculpture too, it comes naturally to me. And my work is actually-gasp-right up there with my competition instead of mediocre (like my painting). but it is a)expensive. equipment and materials. b)space consuming. equipment and materials. c) time consuming. I want to focus on my family. and d)marketing. the bane of my artistic pursuits. I guess sculpture will just remain a strong desire-- or a very expensive hobby, if we ever have the money to make that a reality.

Then there are the fields like culinary arts that would be amazing because I LOVE to cook, I love the intellectual, scientific challenge of it combined with the sculptural element to food presentation. Or there are the performing arts that I would have LOVED to actually do something with-- musical theater particularly. Though I'm not the best dancer, so that would probably have been a flop. Still, there are always community productions...

So then we come to teaching. Because that is the field I'm actually pursuing. I can take the art I love--and all those talents at appreciating good design that I DIDN'T create-- and combine it with an art history intellectualism I'm good at and teaching skills that aren't too shabby either... and voila! you've got a career that is flexible enough to allow me the familial focus I demand, stable (hopefully) so I'm actually employable, artistic but without business savvy, and intellectually challenging. I think this is the best I'm going to get at this point. And I think I'll be good at it. and I am excited to teach.

but sometimes I wonder...

especially those hands-on or science-oriented fields that would be so fun...

what if...

But you know what? An entire fleet of possibilities has sailed. And it won't do me any good to mourn their departure. I'm not on a leaky rowboat or anything, I've got a decent rig--- and my beautiful family is here with me too. So while it may not be the first dream or the most exciting or exotic dream I've had, it is a fit. And for those of you who successfully caught the ship I dreamed of catching at one time or another, I'll admit sometimes I'm jealous of you. But I also don't begrudge you your happiness. Maybe I'll take a vacation tour on one of your ships some day. In the mean time. I've got a ship to sail (aka, a paper to finish) and a family on whom I need to focus. Today is infinitely more vital than possible tomorrows of yesterday. So to all those ships that have sailed...

bon voyage.

Vice and Virtue

A quote from Friedman essay about literature, but with much greater application:

"Its vices are the defects of its virtues"

This really resonated with me. Does it ring true for you?

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  The unmotivated/unambitious vices are usually paired with the virtue of being easy going and not a worry wart.


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  The vice of being high-strung, inflexible, rigid usually goes with the virtue of being organized, planning ahead, detail-oriented.


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  The vice of being sensitive, easily hurt, emotional goes with the virtue of being empathetic, caring deeply, feeling freely.


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  The vice of being hasty, blindly jumping into things, rash goes with the virtue of being a risk-taker, brave, fearless, spontaneous, eager to see an idea to fruition.


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  The vice of timidity, inaction, lost opportunities accompanies the virtue of caution, careful research, and logical analysis before decision-making.


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  The vice of shirking work, avoiding responsibility, being light-minded, shallow, cliqueish usually goes with the virtue of being social, fun, energetic, friendly, talkative.


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  The vice of eating too much with the virtue of appreciating delicious food, being able to create delicious food.


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  The vice of laziness with the virtue of restfulness or playfulness.


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  The vice of work-a-holic, busy, forget-the-real-meaning-of-things person with the virtue of hardworking provider, ambition.


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  The vice of pack rat with the virtue of valuing memories.

I am a planner, a culinary artist, empathetic, ambitious, memory lover. Now you know all my vices too. :)

I think that when the Savior promises all our weaknesses can become strengths through His Atonement, it does not mean he will root out of us those innate characteristics so that we can no longer recognize ourselves. He will simply help us to transform them over to the virtuous side of them. We will still be ourselves, but our best selves.

Taking a Risk-- Are you Up for it?

What is it about applying to a program-- even one that logically you know you are pretty much the best candidate they've got applying-- that makes you feel like, oh, I don't know, like 'what if they don't want me?'
Seriously, in the moment when you should feel most confident as you are keenly aware of your own qualifications-- instead you envision yourself receiving the polite rejection letter?
I spent most of my free time yesterday during Gwen's naps working on such an application and found that by bed time I was feeling so worried and frazzled I found myself crying unexpectedly (and, no, it isn't that time of the month)... I decided not to even work on it today. Considering how great I feel about the program, how certain I am that my prayers have been answered, how excited about the coursework, and how confident I truly am that I will be accepted without any problems, why is it that I feel sooooooo nervous? Isn't that strange? Today since I'm not writing essays or filling out online applications or writing emails requesting academic references from professors, I feel...

SAFE.

aaaaaaaaaahhhhhh....peace...

Perhaps simply because an application is a risk, putting myself out there, actively hoping for something that might not happen the way I'd like. Kind of like the way I hesitate to try to sell any of my paintings. If I don't put em up for sale, then I can always imagine they'd go like hotcakes! But if I DO and I can't get a decent price on any, well, then I can no longer delude myself into thinking they're sorta good. Or I could just not ever try for anything and never be disappointed, but that would be silly and scaredy-cattish of me. Either way, I guess too much thinking about it just gets me nervous. So I won't. Today. Then when I've sufficiently replenished my "bravery" stores, I'll put myself back on the confidence chopping block tomorrow.

ps. feel free to ask away about what I'm hoping to do, but I might not answer until I have an acceptance letter in hand, just cuz I don't want to get my hopes up too high. and talking about it excitedly would only make it worse if I don't actually get in... which really isn't going to happen, right?, but just in case...

A Little Perspective

I want to take a moment and give myself some perspective. While the next post is really about a couple wonderful evenings full of fires of one kind or another, I currently feel a little, well, out in the cold. But there is really no reason for dwelling on that. I need to learn from the positive examples of my best friend Jennie and my dear friend Linzi. I need to stop indulging in a good whine and try looking at things with some perspective. So here I go:

• I miss my hubby.... Atleast I HAVE a hubby!
• I feel isolated when he is sitting right here but I can't enjoy his company because he is studying for the Boards. .. How wonderful that he is here, a part of our lives, rather than an absentee father on a regular basis.
• I find myself easily jealous of the attention he gives to anything else, including the news or shooting the breeze on the phone with his brothers, because I want what little of his time there is.... I shouldn't begrudge him those small breaks. After all, Gwen and I go out and do fun things every week and he misses out on everything from the zoo to libraries to movie nights to swimming. Even visiting his own family.
• Sometimes I think I get a glimpse of what being a single mom would be like. and it doesn't seem like fun.... How grateful I am that Eric still takes time for giving lots of love to Gwen (including her nightly bath!) and that this family is still a joint effort. Soon I'll have him back. (until surgery rotation, but we're focusing on the positive here).
• I am growing weary. He's not the only one getting burnt out over this.... Atleast I got a break and had a nice vacation. He has been going straight through. But the end is in sight!
• Sometimes I feel like sitting down and doing nothing: not because there is nothing to do, but because I am just tired of being/doing so much for our family. ... and I am eternally grateful for the unlimited strength of my Savior, Jesus Christ. I am not even in the darkest abyss, there are so many struggling with far more devastating challenges, I have no real room for complaint or cause for Him to rush to my aide... but He does. Every time. He is there for me, buoying me up, sending me friends and family to encourage along the way, and giving me gentle nudges to my spirit reminding me that all is not lost. I just need to trust in His Atonement...

and perhaps gain a little perspective.

Baring my Soul

I used to keep an excellent journal. From Junior High, Highschool, and my first 2 years of college, I was an almost daily diligent writer. Then my mission happened, then 2 majors happened, then Eric happened, then working full time happened, then Gwen happened... and my journal writing has petered off to non-existent because I'm so pooped by the end of the day. So it occurred to me that my blog is a way to recapture that journaling habit. I post daily happenings and experiences. I only need to add some personal soul baring, and it is a bonafied journal. Here's to radical honesty:


I cringe every time I see a photo of myself.

Is that what I really look like? I don't feel that frumpy, but it definitely looks that way.I gained quite a bit of weight during my pregnancy with Gwen. Pretty normal, as far as pregnancies go, but I haven't really lost it. Just redistributed it. And since I was trying to get back in shape when we got pregnant, I have quite a ways to go before hitting my target. I decided during all the Easter festivities that as soon as the holiday was over I would finally go on a healthy diet. True to that commitment, I spent a few hours yesterday researching healthy caloric and nutritive intake levels for lactating women. I talked to friends who have been on successful healthy diets (not just the crash kind) to find out some tips and secrets for lasting motivation and enduring results. And then it really started to sink in.

This is going to be HARD work.

I have a long way to go. We got a scale last week so I've spent the week tracking my daily weight. I hover right around-- am I really about to share this information to the entire online bloggerdom?-- 170 pounds. Since my target is 145 (that's what I weigh when I'm fit and muscular. Without the muscle, it should be even lower for my height.), that is a 25 POUND LOSS! Those aren't going to peel off overnight, folks, or even in a couple of months. We're talking long term commitment if I want to reach this goal. It'll be difficult because:
a) I LOVE food! And gourmet international cooking! To me it sounds like a culinary disaster to replace key flavor ingredients with low/fat free substitutions or to skip those recipes altogether. Who wants to have feijouada without the various fatty meats? What if I want to grill lemon-barbeque pork ribs in the summer? What's a good chowder without cream? I know there are alternatives, but most reduce the flavor and therefore, enjoyment, of the food. I want complete freedom to pursue any recipe I find that sounds delicious, not a stunted range of options. Plus, I love to bake and enjoy cake decorating... how can I not eat it when it is sitting right there? This will be very challenging for me.
b) I am tired. and busy. It will be just too easy to make excuses for skipping my exercise each day.
c) but mostly because I am not sure I can really do it.

I'm afraid.

I'm afraid I will give in to temptation. I'm afraid I will lack willpower. I'm afraid I'll tire of healthy menus and snacks and indulge a little too often in a non-healthy recipe. I'm afraid there will be holidays, birthdays, and special social events that threaten my consistency. I'm afraid the weight will be stubborn in coming off. I'm afraid I'll compare myself to other, more successful postpartum moms. I'm afraid I will become frustrated. I'm afraid I will lose motivation after a short 2 weeks. I'm afraid I will fall terribly short of my goal. I'm afraid I will never feel confident about my figure again. I'm afraid I will never feel satisfied looking in the mirror again. I'm afraid of giving up and consigning myself to frumpdom for the rest of my life. I'm afraid I am not going to be able to do this. I'm afraid I don't have what it takes to stick it out to the end of my goal. I'm afraid of failure.

*sigh*. I know I can't have faith and fear at the same time. All things are possible if we put our faith in Christ. Funny to think that my diet matters to Him. "Fear not; Only believe"

I can't really ask you to pray for me and my 'diet' because that just sounds like a really shallow prayer. But if it occurs to you sometime in the next 6 months to pray for me to stick to my nutritional plan, I would be really grateful. I need all the support I can get. My plea is the same as the father who brought his sick daughter to Christ for healing and needed help doing his part:

"Lord, help Thou mine unbelief".

Thanks for letting me bare my soul.

Life's Lesson #2: Ask Forgiveness--Even If They Did Greater Injury

Second installment of the "lesser appreciated virtues".

#2 Ask Forgiveness- Even if They Did the Greater Injury to You

Young teenage girls have the ability to be more malicious and just plain mean than any other group of people (not counting criminals or terrorists, of course). Maybe you've been victim to the pack mentality before. I think most girls have been at one time. It is a vicious world in which you either perpetrate meanness or are the recipient of it. Unless of course you are more mature than the rest of the pack and can rise above all that. Unfortunately, I was not one of those amazing people.

I was the victim. All the time. From 5th grade to 7th grade, that was me. I don't need to tell you about the emotional damage these years wailed on my self esteem. I don't need to tell you about how little confidence I had or how I hid it with all my success in academics, music, and sports. By the time I had a group of friends in church who were so trendy and cool... and yet considered me part of the group, I was pretty much ready to follow their lead. Whatever it took to remain in good graces. Unfortunately, they chose another girl in our Young Women's class-- someone who just the year before had been 1 of 3 whom I invited to spend the night for my birthday-- to mercilessly mock. Not 'in-your-face' kind of teasing, but the oblique and yet oh-so-obvious whispering about her while she was in the same room with us, gossiping about her clothes or hair or whatever, and making snide remarks under our breaths whenever she answered a question. I joined in. Better her than me. That was my thinking. Where was loyalty? Where were courage and honor? Not anywhere to be found.

It wore on me. It did. But I kept at it. One night, after a particularly brutal mutual activity in which we sort of trailed her through the church (subtly, of course) snickering the whole time... I got an unexpected phone call. It was her.
I thought she was going to tell me off. I knew I had it coming. But I walled up my feelings and snuffed out my conscience by somehow convincing myself she deserved it and I was justified. I prepared myself for some snotty comebacks.

and I was completely caught off guard when she began to apologize.

She said she was sorry for whatever she had done to upset or hurt us, specifically me, and asked for forgiveness. You might think that I was woman enough to apologize back at this point. But to my everlasting shame, I added insult to injury by firing off those snotty comments and telling her she deserved every bit of it. I could tell she was crying, but that only made me feel worse so I had to act worse to bury those feelings. I kept up my haughtiness until she humbly apologized once more and our conversation ended. That was that. I was a monster.

But that humble request for forgiveness when absolutely none was merited snuck through my facade of sarcasm and pricked my numbed conscience back to life. I am glad to say I began to repent. It was my first real experience with godly sorrow and wading through the process to real forgiveness. I ended up having to break bonds with that group of girls... I did bear the consequences for that... but years later that humble girl would become my very best friend. Jennie Smith. Now a Hubbard. I respect her so much for the example she has always shown me. She's always been a cut above the rest of us, always already emulating the qualities to which I'm aspiring. And it all started when she was Christlike enough to ask my forgiveness... even when I had committed the injury.