Delicious and Daunting

The prospect of returning home to our own space and schedule is both delicious and daunting.

(I neglected to bring my journal with me to Idaho. Well, I guess 'neglected' is misleading. My suitcase was crammed and I purposefully selected my journal to stay in Ohio. I figured my blog could be my journal. That is why you are getting more "Elisa's thoughts" posts than usual. Hope you don't mind too much.)

How delicious it will be to return to our own beds and rooms, our own daily plans. As usual, the leisurely days have given me the break I needed and motivated me to get right back in there with learning activities for Gwen, exercising at the gym, cleaning, cooking, studying, and completing other organization or crafty projects. I am eager to get back into a routine of productivity. I am looking forward to a quiet Thanksgiving just us. I'm looking forward to the culinary preparation that goes along with it, especially the hours of poring over recipes to decide which new ones I'll try this year and add to our traditional favorites. That is really going to be fun! I'm looking forward to play dates with friends, chatting with my gal friends whom I've missed so much. I'm looking forward to driving with 2 girls in the back seat, on our way to the gym or the store or wherever--just in control once again (I guess I'm a control freak because a month of being passenger has started to bug me). I'm looking forward to reintegrating myself in my ward, which will have so many faces I barely know and some I've never seen. It will be delicious to serve again, to contribute. I'm looking forward to preparing Christmas offerings for friends, Christmas gifts and packages, and even the obligatory cards. I am looking forward to the rotation of seasonal decorations that are just 'ours' and already so full of memory. It will be delicious to tidy our home, make it beautiful, and count each little blessing.

All the while, I am daunted by the prospect of weaning Gwen off of her 'shows', her new toys (which I think she thinks are hers), and her adoring fans. I'm also daunted by the prospect of weaning Caroline off of those same adoring fans. The girls are going to be going through attention-deficit-shock. I've really enjoyed the time with family, the opportunity to get to know my in-laws better, to spend one-on-one time with Elise in a Rasputin dance off on the Wii, to be tutored by my oh-so-talented MIL on a sewing project, to teasingly remind my FIL that Caroline cannot have cake and ice cream yet. It has been wonderful. The best part, though, was actually seeing how content and happy Eric is every night has we cuddle and whisper in bed. He has really enjoyed this break and I've loved seeing him so relaxed and at ease with the world. No worries to furrow his brow. Such will not be the case when he is in a rotation AND doing interviews AND preparing for boards AND serving in his calling AND trying to maximize his time with us. No, it will be a rough coming month for Eric, and I am going to miss the peace in his handsome hazel eyes. I am definitely daunted by the return to responsibility.

But, ready or not, here we come. Tomorrow will be a day of laundry, packing, putting away things we've gotten out, and walking through again and again to pick up any last item we may have missed hiding behind pillows or stacks of books or toys. (I'm sure we'll forget something. Isn't that to be expected?)

We'll be home in Ohio on Wednesday. How deliciously daunting. (hopefully I don't get a tummy ache like this guy is bound to get...)

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.

My Etsy Shop-- I'd LOVE a Visit from You!

A couple of weeks ago when I announced my first Etsy sale, I received several inquiries about it. I figured I ought to make a post about my Etsy shop sometime to satiate any curious readers. Yes, Shannon, the pastel of the duality of man is one of mine. 20 dollars.

I haven't really advertised my shop to people who know me or on my blog. The reason is simple. I never attempt to sell my best work on Etsy because I could never get what I think it is worth (quality paintings of not famous artists can still usually sell for hundreds) on a site that usually caters to cheaper purchases. I use Etsy as a forum to sell the art with which I'm not extremely pleased, that I have multiples of, or that might have some kind of defect (like curled edges from a hasty move or something). I save my best stuff for myself since I'm not famous enough to get what I think it is worth or ambitious enough to attempt the time-consuming business venture of getting into galleries. Etsy caters to cheaper prices anyway, so why not unload my 'less-than-professional' art for 'less-than-professional' prices? (my prices are from 7 dollars to 40 dollars.) My lofty aspiration is to make enough selling out my inventory that I can put back into resources for future art projects (since we don't have an art budget and supplies are so pricey).

I'm actually somewhat embarrassed to admit to people who know me that my shop belongs to me. Of course I would never admit on Etsy that some of my paintings are amateurish. But if someone I know goes and looks, they'd probably think I was only a mediocre artist. I guess my pride doesn't want that. Consider yourself warned: I DO make better artwork than what you'll see on Etsy. But if you are looking for decent original artwork at extremely affordable prices, please please please feel free to visit my shop: InspiringdesignsbyE!

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.

Thoughts on Arriving at Personal Discovery

What crystallizes ideas for you? Most common methods for me:

1. Insomnia. Well, okay, the insomnia doesn't crystallize things for me, but if I have clear ideas come to me at night, I absolutely cannot sleep unless I write them down. I keep a paper and pencil in my night stand for this purpose. I don't even turn on a light or have to write legibly, just to write it down enables me to sigh and fall asleep. Which leads to my true method:

2. Writing thoughts down. Somehow getting something down on paper helps me really figure things out. Don't read my high school journal because it is truly filled page after page with me trying to work through feelings, crushes, what to do or not do, possible consequences, why did I act this way or that way, blah blah blah. I don't consider myself a drama queen, though passionate. You'd never know it from my writing. All that drama is right there. You'd never have guessed it because writing down all that "what is this feeling?" stuff allowed me to draw conclusions and respond in a very sane and mature (at least I thought so at the time) way.

Why this post? I don't know. I guess I was considering how this blog is my journal. And sometimes I still get emotional and dramatic here, but mostly not (it being preserved for posterity and all). So am I still crystallizing ideas? I like to think so. Hmmmm... what is my method now? Insomnia? :)

Probably talking it through with people. Eric especially. I was always the confidant in HS, but rarely the sharer. I think I had trust issues. But that's another post. So conversation as a catalyst for realization is a "newish" method for me of arriving at what I really think. But sometimes I find myself babbling away to a friend and catch myself responding too quickly to their questions-- I say things that I don't think really reflect the true response that I might acquire if I was truly introspective. Just the other day I went for a walk with a friend and found myself too easily parroting my answers about my motives and fears that didn't feel right after I'd spoken them. And then I'm backpedaling to try to get it right but that doesn't quite resonate either. Ever do that? Perhaps in a way, even that helps me to realize the truth? Obviously, at least for me, crystallization by conversation is subject to error.

I think there is no real point to this post. Why do I sometimes write things just to hear myself think? I'm kind of embarrassed, actually, at the rambling nature of this post. I almost want to delete it, or at least edit it down (I already logged back on and went back and cut a huge paragraph after I'd posted it and disconnected from the internet because it was bothering me to think that I am pestering all ya'll and future generations who only want to see photos of family and could care less about my personal thought process) further so it isn't such a strong example of how I think aloud through writing... but here I continue... stopping while I'm ahead. sort of.

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 #1: Be Honest, But Not Rude

I thought I would do something fun for a couple of posts. I'm going to recount some experiences from my growing up years (and maybe some from more recently) that have taught me some of life's lesser discussed virtues. I hope that you will find yourself relating to these tales. Feel free to post similar experiences in the comments!

#1: Be Honest, But Not Rude.

When I was in Junior High, I kept a journal religiously. It was not about giving myself perspective, necessarily, or about discussing cute boys. It was really a chance for me to talk. I was very private growing up; always a great listener, but never feeling free to share my troubles or concerns with others. Maybe I didn't want to burden them, maybe I didn't quite trust them to understand, maybe I just didn't know how to share. One experience makes me think the last reason might have some hefty weight to it.

We had a new girl move into our ward. She was overweight, quiet, not very pretty. Nice, of course, but kind of dowdy or frumpy in both mannerisms and style. She just didn't strike me as all that "cool". Of course, I didn't write THAT in my journal. But I remember having a conversation with her one day that made me realize she was actually a VERY neat person, someone not only likable, but confident and trendy behind her initial quiet demeanor. She was really a blast to be around once she was comfortable around you! I did write about THAT in my journal.

So one day she spent the night. I remember being amazed again at how cool she was, and I was chagrined anew at my original prideful judgment. I wanted to tell her how much I esteemed her. But, since I was not very good at sharing my feelings, I decided the best way was to read her that journal entry. The one where I "discovered" how cool she was. I can remember how she picked at the fuzz on my blanket with an awkward look on her face when I read things like:

"I used to think 'Julie'* (all names have been changed) was fat and frumpy and weird, just a dumpy slob. But now I know she is fun!"
and
"Just goes to show that though the outward appearance might be fat and ugly, she's really great and I shouldn't have judged her"

Notice that these comments are really self-deprecating... but they also say some pretty mean and blunt things about her. And I READ that to her... What was I thinking?

She got really quiet around me after that. Our friendship never felt comfortable again. All because I was totally "honest" with her...but I was rude. Even when I was trying to explain how cool she was to me, I was insulting her. I always regretted that. Twice over. Once for misjudging her in the first place and Twice for telling her so bluntly about it.

Moral of the story: write a nice letter. Tell someone how much you like them, not how you 'got past' their flaws. Be honest, but not rude.