The Artist's Brain

This morning I attended a Relief Society activity that taught art therapy as a form of self-care. I went because my friend was teaching it and because I'm a social creature. But I was anxious.

Confession: creating visual art is not relaxing for me.

I've never been a doodler. The few painting classes I've attended end up being stressful. I cannot for the life of me figure out water coloring. I hear it's super easy, but I feel like a kindergartener among college level artists when I try. I love to look at art, I appreciate what others do, but I don't enjoy doing it myself. My hands feel awkward and clunky, like the hand-eye coordination required to make something pretty skipped me.  I don't even like coloring.

I planned to keep all of this inside my head. I just wanted to support my friend.

But somehow I let all these feelings come out of my mouth. I was lighthearted in the way that I said it, but I still said that I didn't enjoy the very joyful activity that she was sharing. And I felt pretty lousy about that. However, my oversharing of my insecurities actually led to a great conversation and I left with some soul searching questions about why I feel this way.

I've thought about it for most of the day.

I think part of the issue is that so much of my brain is used for cleaning up after other people, the mess required for visual creativity is not appealing to me. Sometimes I simply don't have the energy, or the time, or the mental space. I make so many decisions for other people all day long, I don't want to make any artistic decisions. And yet I built bookcases and paint the walls of my house. I know those are creative, but they feel more functional. I'm talking about art for art's sake.

I wonder why writing and music and theatre, all incredibly creative and artistic pursuits, don't scare me the way drawing a picture does. Rather, they fill my soul.

This reminds me of my feelings about the color pink. I used to hate the color pink. I mean HATE it. And then almost sixteen years ago we found out we were expecting a baby girl and I was hit with the realization that she might love the color pink, and of course I would want to support her in that. So I had to untangle why I hated pink. It turned out there was a lot to unpack and it took a few years to realize I don't hate pink, I just really disliked the connotations my brain had connected to pink.

I wonder if creating visual art falls into that category for me. Perhaps it's not the art itself, but all my feelings that are connected to it. Maybe it has more to do with my recovering perfectionism, I don't know how to make messy, terrible, in-process art, so I don't make it at all. Maybe I'm wound so tight from everything else I have going on that I can't let my brain relax enough to let it be a peaceful activity. Maybe my constant need to be productive to prove my worth keeps me from sitting and creating. Maybe the brain fog that threatens to follow me wherever I go makes the thought of learning a new skill exhausting.

Maybe I'm not going to solve this in one day.

I know the purpose of the activity was to relax and make something creative. I did participate and I made the art project. But I think the therapy portion of the art therapy session went a lot deeper than I was expecting.

And I think that's a good thing.

All the Books

These two pictures popped up in my photo memories today. I was admiring how cute these little guys were when I realized something. This is Cooper at 18 and 19 months old. He's comfortably reading those books that have regular pages. I know we had board books available, but he had definitely been thumbing through standard picture books for some time. 

I chatted with a friend (she has five kids, her oldest is Topher's age) last night who told me that they've kept most of their books packed in boxes so their kids wouldn't destroy them. I don't think it occurred to me to keep books out of my kids' reach. In fact, I'm pretty sure I actively put books in their hands as much as possible. Have books been destroyed over the years? Yes, but mostly from overuse. We've had an occasional tear here and there, but it's generally been from excited page turning.

My purpose in writing about this isn't to say, "Look at my amazing children." Rather, I'm curious why they didn't rip up books the way some of their peers did. 

There Is a Season

"Mom, what would happen if we didn't have seasons?"

This is the question Topher asked me during the fifteen-minute drive between Sophie's school (early morning chorus) and his bus stop. I told him that the seasons would exist, even if we didn't have names for them. And that the seasons are opposite from ours in the southern hemisphere. And then we talked about time as a human construct, something that people put in place to make sense of the world around them. He asked good questions and was engaged throughout.

You know, a standard in-the-car conversation.

If I Were a Zombie

Topher has developed an obsession/paralyzing fear of zombies. He talks about them every night at bedtime to the point that he can't fall asleep. I've been trying to reassure him that Zombies aren't real and that we have a safe house, but it hasn't really helped.

Tonight Bryan started the bedtime routine while I was taking care of a few things. He was snuggling with Topher when I came in to take a turn. Bryan said goodnight to Topher, then turned and said to me, "We solved the zombie problem. Topher said he will hit them with his basketball and I'm going to get a sword."

"That's great!" I responded. "I'm so glad you solved the problem. You're such a great team!"

Of course, a few minutes later Topher came up with a new concern, "But what if you're a grandma and you walk slow like a zombie?"

Modern Day Revelation

I loved the talks from General Conference last weekend. My favorites were:

Sir, We Would Like to See Jesus by Elder Robert M. Daines
God Knows and Loves You by Elder Alan T. Phillips
Seeing God’s Family through the Overview Lens by Sister Tamara W. Runia
Brothers and Sisters in Christ by Elder Ulisses Soares
Love Is Spoken Here by Elder Gerrit W. Gong
We Are His Children by Elder Christophe G. Giraud-Carrier
Think Celestial! by President Russell M. Nelson

I had originally thought the overall theme of the conference was Christ and covenants, and I still think that's true. But looking at these talks that I took so many notes on and had so many insights during, I see an important pattern. These are about love, choosing love and kindness over judgement. I'm going to find ways to better feel God's love, and then do my best to share that love with others.

If you participated in General Conference, what messages did you hear?

Mysterious Benefactor?

On a Saturday a few weeks ago a box arrived on our doorstep. It was addressed to our house, but the name on the label said it was sent to All Yall. It was a breakfast gift set from Macy's. We were confused, but figured maybe it was a late secret Santa of sorts.

Three more boxes arrived that afternoon. One was addressed to All Yall, the other two were addressed to Mai Peeeps. They held an assortment of Christmas clearance snacks, as seen below. Bryan and I both texted our siblings to see if they had either sent the items or received something similar. None of them had. Then Bryan reached out to Macy's and asked if they had any information. They didn't and said that food items can't be returned.

We were genuinely confused. Where had all this stuff come from? A few days later, three more boxes showed up.

Then another, and another, and another. One box arrived containing twelve medium sized boxes of caramel chocolate Moose Munch popcorn. Another one had nine medium sized boxes of milk chocolate Moose Munch popcorn. If my count is correct, at this point thirty-three anonymous food items have arrived, all addressed to either All Yall or Mai Peeeps. 

The most recent delivery was last Saturday. It came with a gift receipt that said the items had been ordered the previous Sunday. That's after the other stuff had already arrived. We originally wondered if maybe the former owners of our house had ordered these but forgotten to change their address, but now I'm doubting that theory. I assume that whoever ordered this stuff is getting notices saying they've been delivered. If it were the previous owners, why would they keep ordering more stuff if the original items never reached them?

This is a mystery.

Also, I hear the Moose Munch is delicious.

O Holy Night

I'm still serving as the choir director in my church congregation. For the last two months I've been organizing an interfaith Christmas concert with a local Lutheran congregation. The person in charge of music in our ward has a demanding job, so most of the planning has fallen to me. Thankfully other people volunteered to oversee the decorations, refreshments, and the printed program. That's left me with the music, narration, and related logistical matters. Oh, and directing our choir for three of the numbers and overseeing three others, plus two congregational hymns. A friend stepped in to organize rehearsals for the two small group numbers, which freed me up to drop in and give feedback, which is my favorite part of the job. I've loved getting to stretch my creative muscles, but it's been a time consuming process.

The concert is this coming Sunday evening. I would appreciate any prayers and positive thoughts you can send our way, because we'll need them.

School Daze

Tonight as I was tucking her in, Sophie sighed and said, "I can't wait for school to start. Most kids want summer to keep going, but I'm like yay learning!"

School starts in three weeks. Sophie may be ready, but I'm not. I don't think I'm ever really ready to start a new school year, even though I do love new school supplies and the excitement of new classes. I just love the freedom of summer. And I love the extra time we have to spend as a family. The last two years have been easier in that regard for me since the kids were doing school from home. They had so much more flexibility in how they spent their time and we definitely had more opportunities to do things all together. There were aspects of it that were significantly harder on me as the school facilitator having them all home, but the time together has been worth the exhaustion. (If you had asked me about this in the middle of the schoolyear I probably would have felt differently, but I'm viewing it through the rose colored glasses of summer break.)

Even though we have three weeks until the first day of school, we still don't have a proper plan. Topher's vaccine will be fully effective about three weeks into the school year. A major topic of discussion at our house this summer has been about what we'll do for school. Do we stay virtual? Do we send the kids back at the beginning of the year with masks firmly in place? They don't want to take those masks off for lunch, so do they just skip that meal for those first three weeks? Or do we start virtual and then switch to in-person a few weeks into the year?

Yes, I realize that at three weeks out we should have a plan, I really wish we did. But we're still figuring it out. Well, Phoebe's not, she has a plan. She applied to and was accepted into the advanced program at the virtual school, so she'll be hanging out with me and Topher for another year. The other three want to be in-person at some point this school year, we just don't know when.

I asked Sophie about it during bedtime. She wants to start virtually, then move to in-person because she's always thought it would be cool to be the new kid who comes into school part way through the year. 

Well, I think we can arrange that.

Aging Gracefully

"Mom, why is your face so soft? (touching my cheek) Actually, no. (touching her cheek) My skin is so soft, yours is all bumpy. Why is it like that? Is it because you're getting older? (while giving me a big, loving hug and laughing) I ask funny questions." -Sophie, having a one-sided conversation with me and responding to my changing facial expressions.

Practice What You Preach

I was listening to a book sometime last week (or the week before maybe?) and a phrase caught my attention.

"Practice kindness."

I've heard those two words stuck together before and my brain registered it to mean doing kind things for people. But this time a different meaning occurred to me.

When you want to improve at something, what do you do? You practice. My kids practice piano (sometimes) and math and reading. I spend time on this blog practicing my writing. And we know from research that deliberate practice yields much higher results than half-hearted, begrudging practice.

But how often to we deliberately practice being kind?

That's what I heard this time when the phrase "practice kindness" was said. The inspiration that came in that moment was strong. It said that my family needs to deliberately practice kindness. Because, unfortunately, we aren't doing so well at being kind right now.

I would love to blame the fighting and name-calling and critical words and judgement and hypocrisy and pride on being stuck inside a townhouse together for over five weeks. And maybe that's why it feels so overwhelming and concentrated right now. But the truth of it is that we've had these issues for a long time. Some of us have trained our brains to see the negative to the point that happy, good, uplifting things are not even acknowledged. We have practiced negativity and we're reaping the rewards.

Now, that doesn't mean that every moment is awful. But when a friend recently texted me how thankful she was for this extra time at home with her family because of how strong their relationships were becoming, I almost cried. That is not the experience we are having. Many days I feel like a broken record as I respond to the choices around me. "Please, just find a way to be kind, please."

That is why "practice kindness" struck such a chord with me.

I talked to Bryan about this on Saturday night, then introduced this idea to our kids at the end of our church lessons on Sunday and challenged them to think of ways that our family can practice kindness. I told them we would discuss it during Family Home Evening. Then, yesterday morning during our family scripture study we read Mosiah 4:13-15:

13 And ye will not have a mind to injure one another, but to live peaceably, and to render to every man according to that which is his due.14 And ye will not suffer your children that they go hungry, or naked; neither will ye suffer that they transgress the laws of God, and fight and quarrel one with another, and serve the devil, who is the master of sin, or who is the evil spirit which hath been spoken of by our fathers, he being an enemy to all righteousness.15 But ye will teach them to walk in the ways of truth and soberness; ye will teach them to love one another, and to serve one another.

I pointed out the importance of what we were reading for our situation. I was so excited to revisit those verses and make a plan last night for FHE to help us be kind. Then yesterday turned into an awful day. Really, really bad. I made the decision to postpone Family Home Evening by one day, to tonight. I could tell that we would not have receptive hearts and minds last night.

In spite of not having our official family council, I still asked the kids if they had thought of any concrete ideas to help us practice kindness. I was able to talk one on one with a few of them and hopefully keep their brains working on this topic.

What do you think? How do you practice kindness in your life? How do you teach and encourage your families to be kind, even when they're tired and stressed and would rather be mean? What council do you have for us as we make a plan to deliberately practice kindness?

Home Decor 2019 Edition

Remember last December when the kids decorated gingerbread houses, then you all guessed who the artist behind each house was? The kids got such a kick out of your responses that they asked me to do it again. So, dear readers, I present this year's entries.

Who do you think made each house?

1.

2.

3.

4.

I Am a Child of God

Cooper gave a talk in Primary on the last Sunday of 2018, during the final third hour. His subject was his testimony that he is a Child of God. On Saturday night he remembered this assignment. When I asked him to write down his testimony, he froze. So instead I asked him questions about the topic. Then I would say, "Write down what you just said." We added a few scriptures, I typed and edited a bit, and his talk was done. He did a great job presenting it.

Cooper's Talk:

Heavenly Father is the father of our spirits. We are His children. He loves me and you and He wants us to be happy. 1st John 4:16 says:

“And we have known and believed the love that God hath to us. God is love; and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him.” 

He gave me a family and a home. He gave me the Gospel and the scriptures. He has a plan and wants us to return to Him. Jesus’ Atonement is part of that plan. The Atonement makes it possible for us to repent so we are able to return to Heavenly Father. He gives us all these blessings because he loves us. John 3:16 and 17 say:

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved.

Heavenly Father loves us. He loves me. I am His son and I love Him too. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

The Artists Revealed

Thank you to everyone who voted! The kids all enjoyed hearing your guesses. Many of you got one of them correct, and some of you got two right, but no one guessed all of them. Are you ready for the reveal?

One: Sophie

Two: Phoebe

 Three: Peter

Four: Cooper

Thanks for playing!

Home Decor

Tonight the kids decorated gingerbread houses. They loved it and they each had their own approach. I told them I would post the pictures here, but let you all vote on who decorated each one. I'll number them, then give the answers on Monday. 

Would you take a minute to vote in the comments? 

The kids are excited to see if anyone can figure out which artist created each masterpiece.

One:

Two:

Three:

Four:

The Recap

This picture gives you a good idea how Conference went at our house. 

Bryan had to work one of the days, so while he listened to the talks and songs from his quiet desk in his quiet office in his quiet office building, I was at home continuously redirecting my band of dancers, artists, paper-airplane enthusiasts, costume builders, costume designers, question askers, and food throwers. 

Yup.

In spite of all the chaos, they did listen at least some of the time. Sophie loved that the final congregational hymn of the meeting was I Am a Child of God. She gasped when it was announced and then exclaimed, "This is Sophie's song!" She also loved hearing President Monson speak. When she heard his name she said, "Oh! I love him!"

Phoebe spent the majority of the Conference in this car/plane we made out of one of our many cardboard boxes. It proved quite a handy spot to keep her crayon box close by. She was the most reverent child that day. Maybe I'll have all of them sit in boxes next time.

There were many talks I missed and I'm already looking forward to listening to them again throughout the coming months. The talks that I did hear above the din, and that spoke to me on a personal level, were:

Elder Hales', Elder Uceda's,  President Nelson's, Elder Robbins', Elder Nattress', and Elder Renlund's.

I loved the emphasis on the Savior. This was of special significance to our family because we're practicing being more Christ-like. I had challenged the kids to watch Conference specifically for mentions of Jesus. We were all delighted to hear so many talks that helped us meet that challenge.

What spoke to your soul from General Conference this time?

What Are You Doing With Your Theatre Degree?

This is the question that was posed to me last night. I was at a friend's house for a Girls' Night, the first Girls' Night I've been to in ages. It was delightful being around intelligent people that didn't yell or throw things at my head*. It was so fun, in fact, that I stayed out much later than was wise and spent most of yesterday stupid tired.

Before we started our movie (Joy, in case you were wondering), I chatted with the other guest. We're all in the same ward, but she works in Primary and I spend most of my time in Relief Society, so we hadn't had much opportunity to get to know each other. When she found out what my college course of study was, she asked, "What are you doing with your theatre degree?"

I took in a deep breath and mentally shuffled through several reasonable answers (I read amazing bedtime stories! My daughters can request imitations of most Disney princesses and I can deliver! I teach super animated Relief Society lessons!), but before I could say anything at all, my friend (and our host) spoke up.

"She writes a blog! Everyday!"

I paused, trying to decide if that fell under my major of Theatre Education or my minor of English Teaching, and whether either mattered much since I graduated from college nearly twelve years ago. I confirmed that yes, I do post something every weekday, but I was quick to supply that I haven't been doing much in the way of writing despite those five-per-week posts lest they find my blog and discover I'm some wannabe poser. Also, that I use words such as "wannabe" and "poser."

And yes, sometimes I can eek out enough brain power to say something mildly entertaining, but I have certainly fallen into the pattern of looking for cute pictures of the kids and giving a brief explanation so I can move on to cleaning the kitchen and not going to sleep on-time. I know that the majority of my faithful readers prefer those posts because, let's be honest, you're pretty much just here for amusing anecdotes and darling photos.

However.

I must occasionally remind myself why this blog exists. I'm trying to keep my brain from turning into a big pile of mush. These reminders pop up from time to time. If I typed the words "brain" and "mush" into my search bar I would likely find a handful of written ruminations on this exact subject. And it's okay, because I need that motivation to continue so this blog doesn't become a begrudged duty.

I return to the question, how am I using my theatre degree? I'm not sure that I am, at least not in obvious ways. But I am using my brain. I'm using the skills I learned from college and from theatre, to think deeply, analyze situations and materials, stay active, engage and entertain those around me, use my resources wisely, and write in an intelligible manner. That time devoted to study was well spent, despite the fact that I haven't directed a play in nine years.

How are you using your degree?

*For the record, Bryan doesn't yell at me or throw things at my head. I cannot make similar statements about the other people that live at my house...

Self Improvement

I've been pondering my resolutions from last year. I failed spectacularly at going to sleep early and replying to emails and texts. At least I'm improving on my response time, even if only by a little. I like to think I focused more on Bryan but he's at work most of the time, so maybe I give him more attention because he's home when the kids are asleep. And I kept the blog goal, as I am wont to do.

2016's list looks very similar to 2015's.

1. Blog in some fashion every weekday.
2. LISTEN
3. Sleep, because I'm tired and exhaustion makes me crazy
4. Exercise four times per week as a means of managing my migraines
5. Speak kindly to my children, even when their behavior makes me feel like my head is going to explode
6. Continue daily scripture study
7. Learn to make Thai food that is safe for my whole family to eat

Numbers five and seven are new to the club, the former certainly more important than the latter. But I do love a good curry and I think Peter would too.

What goals do you have for 2016?

Don't Bother Me, I'm Reading

Peter didn't want to go to school today. He said it was because he wanted to stay home and read. He also said he broke his back and couldn't walk, so I'm not sure how reliable the reading excuse is. However, at the start of the year he said he wouldn't do extra-curricular activities because he didn't want to give up more reading time.

His teacher wants me to keep track of all the minutes he reads each day. We've done an abysmal job thus far. I'm tempted to write a note that says, "To Peter reading is like breathing, he does it all the time. Please mark your grade book accordingly."

I finally got him out of bed this morning when I said I would take him to school in his pajamas and bare feet if I had to. I suspect that he had other reasons for not wanting to go, but I'm beginning to wonder if the hobby I've always encouraged and praised is taking over. Can you have too much of a good thing?

Ready to Talk, Ready to Listen

Last night at bedtime Peter called me in to talk. He does this as a diversionary tactic almost every night so I came close to refusing. But I forced myself in and tried hard to listen rather than scold. It's a good thing I did. Instead of the standard delay, he started by saying, "You know how sometimes I have hard days? Well, all the days here have been hard."

And he's right. I don't usually start getting phone calls from his teacher until October, but I got one last week. His behavior at home has been exceptionally out of control as well; though it hasn't been the normal arguing. He's been zany. Hyper. Wacky. Picture a herd of yappy chihuahuas colliding with a shipment of pogo sticks during a silly string hurricane, that's pretty close to how things have felt here. I look at that and think, "How ridiculous that a little goofiness would throw our whole family into so much chaos?"

But it does.

Bryan and I have spent a lot of time talking and praying and researching. We've got the school working with us as well. Bryan has said a few times that something else is going on, something that we don't know about. All of my motherly detective work has been for naught, until last night.

Based on the forty minutes that Peter talked and I listened, our current dilemma boils down to two things: moving is hard and being different takes courage.

When Peter feels out of place, one thing he does is try to make people laugh. This is how he made friends when he was little and he thinks it should work the same way now. The degree to which he's felt like an outsider should have been evident from his aforementioned behavior. He's working so hard at being funny and silly, but what worked in Kindergarten and first grade doesn't work in fourth grade. And it's not just that they're getting older. The kids in Utah are different from the kids in Washington. The kids in Washington are different from the kids in New Jersey. The kids in New Jersey are different from the kids in Illinois. Peter, being a mixture of all four, is different from everyone. He doesn't understand the societal norms that govern our new home and he's getting tired of trying to figure them out. So am I, frankly. Making friends, no matter how outgoing you are, is hard. It takes energy and time and commitment. And I think he and I are both feeling stretched thin.

Now that he's in fourth grade, his peers are starting to say and do things that make him really uncomfortable. He told me that lots of the kids swear. Bad language has always bothered me, so I certainly empathize with him. He also said that all the kids in his school class (and some in his church class) watch PG-13 movies. They talk about the movies and he can't contribute to the conversation because we don't let our kids watch those yet. Since he read "The Hobbit" we've considered watching that with him, but I'm still on the fence.

When he came to a stopping point (Peter is never done talking, but if you pay attention you can find moments when he pauses), I took a deep breath and started talking.

As far as making friends, I suggested that he take the next week to watch and listen, find out what these kids like and how they play, then adjust his techniques appropriately. This requires a level of maturity that Peter simply doesn't have yet. Even so, I think the practice could help him. Now, I'm not telling him to change who he is so people will like him. But it is an important skill to learn how to read your audience and understand how to communicate so they'll understand and respond. That's what I told him, in nine-year-old jargon.

My counsel on the other matter was quite different. I didn't spend much time on it, but I told him that sometimes it's important to not be the same as everyone else. I asked him if he used those foul words and he said no. I told him that I don't either. That makes us different from the other kids, but different in a good way. I also said that as members of the church we tend to be very different from those around us because of our beliefs and the activities we will and will not take part in. And that's a good thing.

We prayed together and I prayed a lot on my own. After more talking, I said goodnight and he finally dropped off to sleep.

I am so thankful that he was ready to tell me his concerns, but I know that telling me does not wash them away. How can I give him the tools he needs to navigate the ups and downs of being a kid? I'm used to being socially awkward and kind of weird, though now as an adult I can call it quirky, but it took time for me to own that and be comfortable with it. How can I help him get there too?

Much like moving, being a parent is hard.

My Favorite Weekend

We got back late last night from a weekend adventure. It included historic sights, ocean views, and time with old friends. I had organized the trip so we would listen to General Conference in the car on Saturday and watch it at our friends' house on Sunday.

That was the plan at least.

There were moments when I thought, "Wow, this is awesome. We should drive during Conference all the time." No one could run around, they weren't super loud, I could actually listen. And then there were times when the kids were poking at each other and talking loudly and not listening at all. Bryan commented that he felt like he heard more this time than when we're at home, so I guess it worked well for him.

I've already started to review the talks. So far, the ones that really stood out to me were President Eyring's talk, Sister Burton's talk, Elder Clayton's talk, Elder Wilford Andersen's talk (this one spoke to my soul, I loved it), Bishop Causse's talk, and Elder Holland's talk.

What spoke to your soul?