Loving Motherhood

Years ago I started asking myself, whenever faced with a major decision, “Dianna, if you were on your deathbed, which choice would you most regret having given up?” I think the catalyst must’ve been my biological clock and deciding when to start having children. I married David with no intention of giving up on a career in acting for awhile. My goal at the time was to try to get an agent, establish myself in a modest career (ironic considering acting has little to do with modesty), and then start having children. At least then I’d have some connections set up for an occasional acting stint here and there. I had already lost interest in the idea of moving to a big city and trying to become a professional stage actress. I just thought that a little TV/film work or a play here and there would be a great goal (and difficult enough to pursue).

Then a strange series of events occurred. I was eating lunch with a work supervisor who, upon learning that I was 26, asked if I was planning on having kids soon. I told her that we were waiting for the right time, and, before I mentioned that my husband and I expected to start trying when we hit our 2 year anniversary (then at least 8 or 9 months away), my supervisor began sharing how much she loved having a younger Mom. She talked about how they’d play sports together and talk about dating, etc. Then she shared about a friend who had been trying with her husband for over 4 years to get pregnant. Though it wasn’t the first time I had heard of couples trying for a long time without success, it suddenly hit me that there was no guarantee that I’d be able to choose exactly when I could become a mother. The thought was sobering.

Moreover that conversation planted a seed. A month or two later, I started to have anxiety at bedtime when I was supposed to take my birth control pill. As I’ve mentioned here before, I actually had nights when I found it difficult to take the pill. While holding a pill in my right hand, I’d grasp that wrist with the left hand and bring the hand to my mouth. I finally approached my husband, who was genuinely surprised that I was the one instigating the baby conversation. After a few discussions and a little bit of prayer, however, I started my 3 month detox from the pill in preparation for a possible pregnancy. When the 3 months was up, the “chance” game started, and one month later I woke David up at 2:00 AM to show him a positive pregnancy test. He was very cute, by the way. I dragged him from our bed down the short hallway to the bathroom to show him the test. He leaned far forward (too sleepy to see straight?), stared for a second, stood back up and said, “Congratulations, Sweetie.” Then, after a millisecond kiss and a smile, he flopped himself back into bed for some more sleep.

And that’s how it started. Nine months and 65 pounds later, Sophie was here, and the world turned upside down - in a good way. She was gorgeous with fantastic hair that stood at least 2 inches tall. She slept, ate, struggled with nursing, tolerated me who struggled with nursing, welcomed the eventual bottles, cried a little, grew a lot, and brought a tremendous amount of hope and joy into our lives. Then, after another healthy but emotional pregnancy, Aidan arrived with a little more drama than his predecessor. Yet the scariest drama passed, and we suddenly had two tender little individuals in our home. Sophie doted on her new little man, and Aidan loved being doted on. They are special little friends, albeit occasionally antagonistic friends (aren’t we all sometimes?). Then, about 9 ½ months ago (after a scare to defy the others), another little spirit arrived into our lives, and David’s and my joy has reached an all time high so far while our confidence has tanked. That’s not to say that we’re not happy and grateful, but, as everyone says, three is hard. It’s especially challenging when you have an active social butterfly for an oldest child, an independent, easily overlooked middle child, and, well, a baby. I don’t think Ian’s more clingy or anxious than most babies. He’s pretty much a textbook baby. He’s just a baby, though, and his needs are more immediate. So other children have to wait a little longer. (Though we do seek balance at all times).

All of this is hard. It’s rewarding, yes. I really am having the time of my life. They are each so amazing to be with and deserve so much love. But it’s hard too. Sometimes I have a great attitude, but I often struggle with the chaos in the house, the challenges of meeting physical and emotional needs, concern about the future, and my own inadequacies. I’m pretty sure we’re done, and it’s a devastating feeling to have. I’ve heard that many people who eventually have 4 or more children really struggled when they hit #3. For them it was a threshold into the crazy life. Yet I believe we should stop here just after the threshold, and that hurts. I’m not at peace with that yet, but I really think I’d be fooling myself if I thought that I could be an effective mother of 4 children. I’m sure most of my friends and family agree with me, but that doesn’t really help to be honest. :) So we have a little bit of working through some emotions and finding answers ahead of us.

My purpose for this post, however, was not to hash up my conflicted emotions over whether or not to have more children (and whether I need to endure more of this ridiculous IUD that puts me at a hormonal disadvantage beyond my usual hormonal disadvantage). The purpose was to say that I love being a mother, and I’m so grateful to even be in this dilemma. When I think of the incredible women in my life who deserve to be mothers and are having to wait for one reason or another, I am humbled. I love being able to focus my energy on others. I love their little limbs. I love their brains and how quickly they absorb things. I love their simplicity and their complexity. I love seeing who they are becoming. I love having relationships with them, working for their trust, and working to retain it. I love being their biggest fan, coach, and listening ear. Sometimes I cry because of them. Sometimes I cry with them. I have said “I’m sorry” about 5 million times, and I expect to say it at least 50 million more times in coming years (though I’m determined to repent and keep the need to a minimum). I adore the hugs, and I have a hard time not laughing when I am yelled at (though I still cry at times). I love to make them laugh and to laugh with them. Finally, I love knowing that my life revolves around love - giving love, teaching love, learning love.

Back to that deathbed speech I mentioned an hour ago, when I ask myself, “Dianna, if you were on your deathbed, which choice would you most regret having given up?” Every time the answer is the same. I won’t have regrets. Motherhood is far greater than anything I’ve had to give up or postpone so far.

Here’s sending out love, prayers, and respect to all of the amazing and imperfect Moms and Moms-to-be whom I know. You are doing, have done, or will do the greatest, most important, most rewarding work in the world.

Or, as Captain Taggart would say, “Never give up! Never surrender!”


In the spirit of confession/commiseration, I thought I'd share that my afternoon as a mother was a bit lame at points. Sophie came home from school, and the walls came tumbling down. I'm not saying that it's her fault. I haven't been great at given her a steady routine (thanks to chronic fatigue, AKA having a baby), and she has gotten into the habit of being completely non-compliant and argumentative. I burst into tears about three times and felt pretty hopeless after a while. And only just a few hours after posting this optimistic, hopeful epistle! It's like going to the temple during a difficult time in your life. You feel so wonderful and hopeful inside, and then within an hour of returning home, non-temple life comes crashing back in. Gotta love it! Okay, Captain Taggart, I'll keep plugging along...

Idol Thoughts... The Top 12...uh, I mean 13

So I got really serious last week and was being one with my alter-ego, the Pensive Mormom, with my political, economy focused, anti-Hollywood rant - all of which I meant - and I will admit that I was a bit negative. Thanks for your patience!

It’s Idol time again! I’m just going to give my responses to the folk who performed tonight:

Lil Rounds – Fabulous!! She’s another Melinda Doolite, and I hope she goes far. Since she’s also a mother of three, which is really hard, I respect her all the more for her courage. Also she loves barbecue. Yummers!!

Scott MacIntyre (AKA Blind piano playing guy) – He’s fine, but here’s my beef with him. He’s not the only blind person who can sing and play the piano. A lot of blind people who are musicians are terrific piano players. They naturally have fantastic ears and learn that whole playing by feel thing quicker and better than many seeing people. So, as much as I totally appreciate and admire that he had the courage to audition, I expect him to be a better singer with such an ear. I’m not loving him, and he’s being given too much of a pass for being blind. He also has pretty lame taste in music. I’ve said this before, but people need to pick songs that we know and love, or we’ll get bored quickly.

Also, and I know this sounds terrible but I’ve got to say it, I don’t like watching him. The wandering, extremely wide eyes are distracting, and he’s not a handsome man. He needs a consultant or coach to get blunt and teach him how to close his eyes the way “Boccelli” does or do something else that doesn’t make difficult to watch. As I said, it sounds cold and harsh, but that’s the business folks.

Danny Gokey – He’s great. I was busy typing, so I missed his dancing (which Simon hated), but his vocals sounded great, and I think he made some great, fun vocal choices with his song. I hope people don’t forget how terrific he is.

Michael Sarver – He’s a sweetie, and he has good pipes, but I’m not jumping out of my seat. I love the song choice, though. (He picked “You Are Not Alone.”) I fear he may go home soon.

Jasmine Murray – She’s really pretty (runs in the family obviously – did you see her sister?!), but she’s a little raw for my taste. She needs more training. She oversings and crushes a lot of her big notes. I fear her days are numbered as well.

Kris Allen– He’s married??? I thought he was like 12 or something! Look, this boy seems really sweet and kind of a cutie, but I’m underwhelmed by his talent. I suspect he’s still safe, though, since a large percentage of voters are teenage girls. Simon might’ve been right, though, that they should’ve waited a little longer to mention that he’s married. Oops!! If he’s gone tomorrow night, we’ll know why.

Allison Iraheta – I have a big soft-spot for rockers. Maybe it’s because I’m completely incapable of pulling off “rocker.” But I love this girl. Her voice is rich and strong, and she doesn’t ever seem to hit a bad note. I really love her, actually, and she pulls the goofiest faces during comments, which I find terribly endearing. Yeah, she’s a favorite of mine.

Anoop Desai – Anoop, my friend, what on earth were you thinking when you chose “Beat It”? Big mistake, and not a very good performance. I fear that he’ll be gone next week, especially after Simon gave him the kiss of death (Ryan - “Do you regret making it a top 13?” Simon - “On the back of that, yes.”)

Jorge Nunez – Okay, Jorge is such a tender soul, but this was cheesy and old fashioned. I hope he comes back next week, but I didn’t enjoy the song or the performance. But isn’t he just such a sweetie??!! And the afro!! Isn’t it darling?

Megan Corkrey – She’s gorgeous, but “Rockin’ Robin”??? But her bio about how she adores her little boy makes me want to cry. I love my little boys too, and I’d be crying too. Actually, with her crazy style, the song really fit her. And the “caw caw” at the end is a riot!! And she’s gorgeous. And her bio makes me want to cry. I think she’s safe.

Adam Lambert – Sophie loves this guy. I’ve got to say that I kind of like him too even though everything I’ve seen him do has been flawed. I think he overdoes it. But…WOW, he’s got a crazy, cool, unique voice and he’s oozing with confidence on stage. I haven’t fallen in love with his work yet, but I really, really like this performer. I hope he gets consistently better and better. Besides, when Sophie likes someone, it helps if they’re a good performer. Last year, her man was David Archuleta. Hurray!! The year before? Sanjaya. Ugh!

Matt Giraud – I hope people don’t forget this guy. He’s terrific. The song is beautiful even if it wasn’t thrilling following Adam. But he deserves to stay for sure.

Alexis Grace – I have a few problems with Alexis. First, she is not any kind of role model for little girls. I don’t like the raunchy thing she’s doing with the ultra scanty outfits, etc. Second, she seems a little processed for me. She was a little more wholesome looking at her initial audition, but her sound was sassy. So the judges told her to “dirty it up” a little. Well, she did it. Can we say “Barbie doll?” Finally, David dated a girl named Alexis in high school, and I really do not like this person. Case closed.

You know, this first part was really boring. Haha!!! I was reading it to David, and it made me laugh how boring it must be to read a bunch of two line comments about a bunch of singers, especially if the reader doesn’t watch the show. Instead of editing it though (I need sleep anyway), I’ll leave it so you can laugh with me at what an enormous geek I am for making you listen to my play by play critiques.

Anyway, here’s the problem with Idol this year. There were too many people in the top group, and too much time has passed between our seeing each of them. Also, they have not been worked hard enough so far. I know their schedule is completely rigorous, and it’s amazing that they don’t all have laryngitis by the finale, but it’s also good for the performers to have to work hard and learn and perform new songs every week. They grow on us. I know it’ll get harder and harder, but I think those first 3 weeks make a difference in how much the TV audience loves/hates the performers. And again, there are too many of them. I mean, please judges!! I liked Anoop too, but you could’ve parted with him sooner. Or maybe Jasmine shouldn’t have gone on. But we practically ran out of time tonight with the comments and having too many performers to fit in. It’ll be interesting to see how this competition pans out in the next several weeks, but they have their work cut out to make themselves memorable.

And let’s be honest, last year was just thoroughly AWESOME. They have some seriously huge shoes to fill.

“You’ve changed…you’re different in the woods…”

For those who don’t recognize the words in the title, these are lyrics are from a musical called Into the Woods. This show had a powerful impact on my life as a teen, and I still see it was one of the greatest musicals ever. I imagine that I might judge it a little harder now, but even looking back, there are still great messages that I remember from the piece. One song, entitled “Children Will Listen”, includes the following:
“Careful the things you say.
Children will listen.
Careful the things you do.
Children will see and learn.
Children may not obey,
But children will listen.
Children will look to you for
Which way to turn,
To learn what to be.
Careful before you say, ‘Listen to me.’
Children will listen.”

Profound, isn’t it?

Anyway this post is not about Into the Woods, though I highly recommend the musical to anyone looking for a great show. Actually this post is about…me. Isn’t everything? Just joking, believe me. I’ve just found myself marveling lately, not necessarily with joy but definitely with wonder, about how much I’ve changed over the years. A lot of this awareness has to do with politics lately. You know, years ago I would’ve just been delighted to have an African-American president. In fact, all of my life I thought it would be really wonderful to have seen this country evolve so much that we’d elect a black man or woman President of the United States, based on their principles and abilities and not on their sex or race. A lot of people are still celebrating that we now have an African-American President. Except I’ve found myself so disappointed with President Obama so far that I could just cry. I didn’t vote for him, but I didn’t feel vehemently against him becoming President either. The truth is, I didn’t know very much about him. He was a great speaker, and he seemed pretty moderate and capable of working well with people from other parties. In the past several months, however, I’ve learned some things that have made me uncomfortable with him. In the past several weeks, I’ve seen things that have made me angry at him. I don’t like this man, and I actually wish he was a white man who wasn’t a brilliant orator so that people would start paying attention to his policies and holding him more accountable for his actions and those he supports.

But this wasn’t supposed to be about Barack Obama either. I don’t mean to offend people by bagging on someone you might admire. It’s just about how life can change our belief system so much. I can remember sitting in my high school Economics class and feeling favorably about Socialism compared to Capitalism. Socialism equaled compassionate society. Capitalism equaled cold, money-hungry society. Now despite the fact that we’re not rich or anything, I feel so strongly about supporting Capitalism. Granted, I do believe that there should be equal opportunity through making education and assistance available for those who need help getting to their feet, but Capitalism creates motivation to even stand. What a strange surprise to me that I feel this way now!

I used to love movies. Don’t get me wrong, I still do like them very much. I currently have a big thing for BBC movies adapted from classic literature. Oh I love them!! All the Jane Austens & Elizabeth Gaskells! I also love the Lord of the Rings films, etc. Okay, yes, I still love them. But I’ve become such a snob about how well a film is made and so sensitive to what kind of content is in a film that I rarely come away satisfied these days. David and I have been Netflix members for almost a month, and we’re canceling our membership this weekend. I don’t want to waste what precious little time I have with David watching some dumb movie every week and then being too tired to converse rationally afterward. And I have a big grudge against Hollywood right now, and I’m determined that watching fewer films is the only way I can protest.

And how about Hollywood? I used to admire so many actors and directors. I never missed the Oscars or the Tonys for anything. This year, however, I watched the Oscars for about ten minutes, and I was disgusted. The way the actors worshipped each other and the business they’re in was revolting. Sean Penn, despite being a very talented actor, gives me tics. My husband studied a book in college called Hollywood vs. America, in which Michael Medved pointed out how the ideologies of Hollywood are in direct conflict with the ideologies of mainstream America. Anti-religion, anti-Capitalism, anti-modesty, anti-chastity, etc. – that’s Hollywood for you. The Oscars was a perfect demonstration of that reality. As Penn accepted his Oscar for Best Actor, he called on Proposition 8 supporters to reflect with shame on their actions and expressed gratitude for having an eloquent President, and most of the crowd cheered along with him. Any conservative Republicans or believers in traditional marriage must’ve been quite uncomfortable. My yearning of younger days to be one of those beautiful, lucky, talented actors was dissolved in that moment (though it has waned over the past several years).

Where has all of this change come from? Life, I guess. I think I was such an incredibly selfish person when I was younger. All I thought about was myself – my appearance, whether or not I could act or sing well, whether I had friends or if people thought I was talented. Now I’m not saying that Democrats are selfish. I’m not saying that single people are all egocentric. I do think a lot of actors can be pretty ridiculous. Most of the people I know are pretty incredible people who are good friends and are thoughtful and considerate of others. But it took falling in love with David and becoming a wife and a mother to start realizing how my choices and attitudes affect others and how loving relationships are the source of life’s greatest joys. It also took seeing the joy of motherhood to appreciate how much less joy I might have found in being a professional actress and/or singer. It took having a family, serving as the CFO of our household, making some very painful financial mistakes, and looking toward our financial future to help me appreciate the benefits of capitalism – how hard work and ambition, financial discipline, and wise investment can empower you take control of your destiny and assist others to do the same.

All of that said, and to serve as an anti-nausea pill for those of you who probably think I’m being completely arrogant, I am fully aware of that fact that I have miles to go before I sleep. I still have a ridiculous temper. I complain too much. I’m anxious and obsessive compulsive. I still haven’t figured out the difference between insecurity and humility (except this – first one bad, second one good). I eat too much sugar, exercise too little, listen to too much talk radio, yell at my kids and husband too much, read too slowly, have a slight speech impediment, pray too infrequently, think I’m right all of the time when I’m often wrong, and cry when I’m tired instead of going to sleep (can we say – logic?). And that’s just the intro, but we all have things to do, and the full list would keep us from those things. Also, I must fully acknowledge that I could be completely wrong about politics, Hollywood, and money.

I guess the bottom line is I’ve changed. I’m pretty sure I’m not better than most other people. I at least hope that I’m better than my old self.

Idol Thoughts - Top 36, Week 1

Quell torture!! Hollywood Week was a drama fest, and now I know why I haven’t watched it in previous years, but now we have to spend the next few weeks watching 9 people per week fumble their one and only shot to win audience votes.

For non-viewers who choose to experience Idol vicariously through me (you know who you are), here’s the format we’re dealing with: We’re down to 36 (well, now 27). For each of three weeks, 1/3rd of the group (12 singers) will perform, America will vote, and the top 3 (top man, top woman, and the person with the next highest votes) will all go through to the final 12. The last 3 to make the 12 will be chosen through some wild-card thing. (I have no idea what this process involves.) In other words, unlike most of the previous years where they had 24 and eliminated 4 people a week for three weeks, there will be 9 people eliminated each week. So we have to sit there and watch Ryan cruelly break the hearts of 9 people each Wednesday night. Ouch!!

The upside to this, of course, is that we don’t have to go through the torture of seeing people like Tatiana Del Toro (good pipes, schmaltzy singing style, emotionally unhealthy) week after week because, if she has fans, they’re likely to be zealots who would go crazy with voting. The downside is that everyone will have one shot at the top 12 (unless they’re picked for the mysterious wild-card thingy). So if they make a bad song choice or crack a note or get the kiss of death from Simon (“I think you’ve blown a massive opportunity…”), then there will be no second chance to step-it-up. And with so many others, some talented people will be forgotten forever. Sad.

Why are they doing this, I wonder? Was it too grueling for the contestants in previous years? To learn and rehearse two songs per week (plus publicity, etc.) for several weeks? You gotta be kidding me! To mix it up? Aren’t crazy, dramatic contestants enough mixing? Besides, how is America going to make viewers into fans of a specific artist if we hardly get to see them during these first few weeks? I guess three months with the top performers is a long enough time.

Oh well, it’s probably just me not adapting to change. Well that and the fact that I really don’t like to watch people completely fail at their only chance to succeed. I mean, when you audition for a play, your first audition should be completely stellar, but if the pianist trips you up, if you spit out a big glob on a high note, or if the song isn’t perfect for you but you look like you might fit the role well, you at least get a callback. (Well unless the director has pigeon-holed you as an ingenue though you’re shooting for a character role… no, I’m not relating or anything.) I guess that’s kind of what this is. This is their audition for America, and there is not much room at callbacks (12 slots only). And if that wasn’t just the cheesiest thing anyone ever typed…

I just hope that they divided up each of the three groups well. Otherwise, the top 12 could be pretty uneven. “Here are the best three from the reject group, then the best three from the evenly distributed group, and then the best of the best.” (Makes me think of the Men in Black. “The best of the best of the best…sir!”)

So I guess I ought to make a comment or two on the contestants. Well, I had hoped for more from most of the contestants. Even those who made it through this week, Alexis Grace, Michael Sarver, and Danny Gokey, weren’t thrilling to me. Alexis is a cute woman, but after an audition where they told her to “dirty up a bit” (I’m misquoting, I’m sure), she performed this week wearing something akin to a negligee. Good vocals, but not a very big voice (though a big Aretha song). Still, she was solid enough, despite the fact that I’m not excited for my 7 year old to see that the only woman who made it through this week was the one who was completely immodest in her appearance. That’s also not to mention that she seems like she was completely designed by the judges. They told her to be sassy or “dirty,” and she reinvented herself. Not that interesting. She does have a lovely little daughter. That’s interesting. Hopefully this will help their future.

It makes me appreciate Michael Sarver better. He’s the oil rig driver (at least, I think that’s his usual work – suffice it to say, his work is something blue collar and very dangerous). Very good pipes, despite the uselessness of his song. “I don’t wanna be” something or other. (Rock country is a genre that I simply do not get.) But he’s a husband and a father, not pretty but not ugly, and very likable. Nice choice, viewers.

Then there is Danny Gokey. Danny Gokey has very good pipes and a lot of soul for looking like a cross between Robert Downey, Jr. and that slightly nerdy guy that you did show choir with in High School – not skinny, not great looking, but kind of cuddly. Again, he’s got a very good voice and nice vocal stylings. Church music director for a living. But Danny has something that the other two don’t necessarily have (at least not as much of). I’ll call it Oprah factor (though it’s more moving to me than most things I associate with Oprah). He’s got an emotional, heart-wrenching story. I don’t know the details of the story, but he’s 28, and his wife passed away about 4 weeks before he auditioned for Idol. It’s so sad. To add more emotion to it, his best friend is a pretty great singer and was an amazing support to him through the weeks following his wife’s death. That friend, whose name completely escapes me at this moment, made it all the way through to the end of Hollywood week and was eliminated just before the final 36. It was almost like a married couple being separated, and you could tell that Danny was filled with dread and guilt. Talk about awkward. I think he’ll go far in the competition, though. He might not win if a stronger singer trumps him, but he has been featured quite a bit, and he has a huge following already, I’m sure. Plus he’s pretty smart. Picks songs that we know and like, and then personalizes them. That’s what contestants should do!

As for the others who didn’t make the cut this week, Tuesday night was very painful. I kept asking myself, “Did no one mention that this was a one shot deal?” Most of the contestants picked the wrong song. Either it was too old (something the Anoop Desai sang extremely well, but completely forgettable – I hope he’s a wild-card pick), too big and hard for the singer (“Saving All My Love” and “Natural Woman” – both decent performances, but seriously ladies, do you want be compared to Whitney or Aretha?), or it did nothing to showcase people’s voices. "Rock With You?" by Michael Jackson? What was that about? Even Michael would know better than to pick a disco-boogie song! And poor Stevie did not hit a single correct note in her awful Taylor Swift song (not to mention that every time she sang the word “me” she took a breath right in the middle of the word – I’m allergic to that, incidentally). I kept hearing contestants say “I want to show what kind of artist I am,” “I just want to entertain and get people on their feet,” or "I thought it'd be a good choice for the first live show." Are you kidding me? This was it! Oh, friends, what torture to see people come so far and not give their all to their one shot! I can’t imagine the pressure, but I felt some of the pain!!

So, folks, fasten your seat belts! We’re in for some bumpy nights!! Just think, next week - Nick Mitchell (or Norman Gentle?). In two weeks, Nathaniel Marshall! This may not be fun, but you can’t say it’ll be boring either!

It's That Time Again!

Oh, I'm so excited that it's American Idol Season again!! I love this show, even if the beginning feels a little like a trip to the carnival. I can't help but joke that I half expect a bearded lady to walk in and audition. That said, it's fun to discover new talent and get excited for some people.

So here's a small recap of the premiere episode: There's a new judge (I guess to help phase Simon out?), and she's pretty. Her name is Kara DioGuardi, and she seems like she's somewhere between Simon and Randy on harshness, but she's a woman so she's a little more humble. I'm not sure how much I like her, but she seems okay so far. I love Simon as always, and Randy just makes me laugh. Paula just irritates me, and let's be honest she always will.

Their starting city was Phoenix, AZ. (I think it was Phoenix. Well it was AZ at least). David and I felt that the supposed hopefuls with no talent were less convincing this year. Frauds, all of them.

Then there was this girl in a bikini. Yikes!! Disgusting. Simon and Randy put her through 100% because she was a pretty girl wearing less fabric on her body than a handkerchief. Paula is irritating enough, but I may never forgive her for putting through this woman (and I think she did it just to avoid conflict). Featuring the bikini lady and sending her through to Hollywood may hurt the show, to be honest. But there have been freakier hopefuls in the past. Fewer have been more offensive, though. She gave attitude to Kara, and she behaved like a strumpet (throwing herself at Ryan). She won't last. The reason? Demographic. Most of this shows viewers are families, women, and gay men. She's outta there soon, baby!

On Scott, the blind contestant: He was very nice, but I was less impressed than I expected to be. If I were a blind singer, I might be a little irritated that such moderate talent got by. A friend of mine from High School was blind and an amazing soprano. Flawless pitch. I don't know. Maybe Scott will turn out to be great too, but his audition underwhelmed me. I think, though, that singing in a choir for three years with a blind soprano kind of hardened me to the "wow, that's brave to sing in front of others" factor. It seemed to me that Amy showed a lot more bravery getting around by herself at school, being an excellent student, playing Cinderella's mother in the musical (which required climbing up a ladder and sitting on a large moving set piece at one point), performing dance moves in show choir, and just being herself (boy, was she sassy!). Singing and playing the piano was pretty easy for her. Just an opinion. But, yes, it's still terrific when blind artists share their incredible gifts. Maybe I'm just jealous because they've got better pitch than me. Aha!! A revelation!!

Yeah, the bikini girl - won't last past Hollywood week. Mark my words.

On Callings...

They're good. They're hard. Everyone is doing their best, even you are.

Be patient. Try harder. It'll help someone, maybe even you.

This is what I tell myself right now. Yesterday I cried. Today I sent a very long email that took 4 hours to type. I hope it'll help us find some solutions. Solutions are a good thing.

So, callings...They're good...

Being a mom...

For any of you moms who haven't yet seen the following news clipping, this is for your motherhood validation enjoyment. (You can click on the image for a larger view if necessary.) I'm still convinced that Tacoma is a pseudonym used by an irritated mom who wanted another to plead her case. It still doesn't make this any less true.

Wicked, Wicked World...

Wicked sold out. I didn't get tickets. I just typed a relatively long post telling my story, but like an idiot I tried to copy my text for editing in Word as a safety precaution, and the entire post disappeared. (This has happened before.)

So, I just want to express my gratitude to the Arttix web support people who did not prepare themselves for the deluge of business they would receive this morning at 10:00 AM which resulted in their website crashing almost instantaneously. I also wish to thank the Broadway Across America people who were unkind enough to make tickets available early to many of their subscribers and their friends. Actually, I was almost one of those lucky enough to buy early, but when I opened the email from my friend, the promo code was missing and I was too busy to call her back and get it, etc.

Finally, I wish to thank Capitol Theatre for being a bit too small to hold such a show and the kind of audience that would attend said show. Thank you. Really.

I can only comfort myself with the knowledge that I would have probably been disappointed with something about the show, and $100-200 would not quite have felt worth it at a time like this with our economy.

But who am I kidding...

(By the way, poor quality and all, I bawl like a baby everytime I watch this...)

Laughter is the Best Medicine

I've needed a good pick me up lately, and Heavenly Father has sent me so many that I haven't noticed. It took something totally unexpected to snap me out of my melancholy reverie.

Aidan was watching a great Veggie Tales movie, and I barely heard this line in a scene with Larry the Cucumber:

"Remember when he took Salvador's dolly? That hurt!"

Maybe I'm just silly, but that made me laugh.

So, I think this calls for another great Wordgirl episode, just because Wordgirl always helps. Cheers!






Love that Toby!

The Negative Influence of TV

I love PBS kids!! I love that PBS kids is so fabulous, because it wouldn’t really be wise for someone like myself (who often gets very bored and lonely and open to distractions from my housewife duties) to have cable television. So, for that reason, I will repeat that I LOVE PBS Kids.

My favorite show, as I’ve mentioned before, is Wordgirl. This show is crazy funny, and I highly recommend it to most people I meet, which must be a little strange coming from a 33 year old woman. Still, you are welcome to judge for yourself if I’m right or just a little crazy.



Back to the influence thing: Aidan was watching said show, and the Butcher was making forgeries of famous art out of meat spread. Wordgirl only realized it at the last minute and ordered Captain Huggy-Face to take a bite out of the statue. Unsure of whether or not to trust it, the police commissioner thought he’d examine the statue for himself and ordered his deputy to “Get me a cracker.” Less than a second later, Aidan looked at me with a thoroughly grumpy face and demanded, “Get me a cracker.” This guy really likes crackers and would live off of them if allowed to. Thanks a lot, Wordgirl! (But I still love you!!)

Anyway, I did the only smart thing to do in such a situation. I laughed. And he smiled (it looked something like this).

Married 9 years and counting!

On September 18, 1999, the most handsome man in the world took me to the Mount Timpanogos temple, and we were married for time and all eternity. Afterward there were lots of photos, a luncheon at Thanksgiving Point, a ring ceremony where my dad walked me down the aisle (while Rachael played the Pachelbel Canon), and a reception at the Springville Art Museum. We danced twice to our special song, "In Your Eyes" by Peter Gabriel - the first time we didn't have an audience. (I must add that “Video Killed the Radio Star” was also on our playlist. Yeah, we’re pretty silly people). We were our own MC's, which made things feel a little chaotic, but it was still fun. Poor David had a migraine, so when we cut the cake and fed it to each other, he was begging me in a whisper, "Please don't shove it in my face, or I'll throw up!" Of course, I respected his wishes. (He was too cute to make sick, and the tux was a rental).

Despite the imperfections of the day, some small and others not so small, it was still a lovely day. And, in a moment of romantic bliss during a photo shoot at the museum, my honey looked down at me with his 80’s rock star haircut and baby brown eyes and said with so much tenderness, “We're married, Sweetie!”

Sometimes life is very, very good.

Carbon Monoxide Detectors

On Monday night, our smoke alarm/CO detector beeped at us at around bedtime. At first we were unsure what was being alerted. We actually noticed a gas smell in the laundry/utility area. Feeling somewhat befuddled, David asked to consult the manual for the detectors. Suddenly he said, "Wow. It's the carbon monoxide signal." We were instructed to get out to fresh air and call the gas company. We did all of the above, which required dressing the mostly naked 3 year old (he looked cute before and after), grabbing and waking the swaddled baby (who also looked cute and made some very funny "arrgh!" noises on and off to express his confusion), and thrust our little family into the (thankfully) not-too-freezing night air. Our wonderful next door neighbor loaned us the use of her phone and a blanket to keep the baby warm. Sophie was actually very excited about the whole thing. I don't think she understood that it was pretty serious.

It turned out that our water heater needed cleaning and (for scientific reasons I can't fully understand) was emitting large quantities of CO into our home. The measurement was 90 something or other. According to the very nice man who came, it starts looking bad at 10. If I hadn't been crying a lot that day, I would've guessed it was the cause of my yucky headache.

Anyway, we're grateful that our old smoke detectors went on the blink last year and that we, under the recommendation of a good friend, upgraded to the current ones we have. (The old ones didn't have a CO monitor as well). I had originally balked a little at the expense (all of the units together came to about $200, if I'm remembering correctly). I have no complaints at all now. We're also humbled to be reminded that, as expensive as the annual furnace and water heater check-ups are, they are a much better alternative to becoming a headline in local newspaper. I won't even make up an imaginary headline, because it would be creepy (and I've been a bit melodramatic already). Anyway, you get the point!

So - Carbon Monoxide Detectors - As Woody would say, "If you don't have one, get one!"

Wanna see something kind of fun?

Left and above - Sophie (3) and Aidan (3 mos)
Right - Sophie (6) and Ian (3 mos)

And I've been so sure that Ian is a carbon copy of Aidan. Oh well! They're equally cute and fun! Sophie has hardly changed (despite the missing front teeth now).

And finally, here are my 3 babies in all their glory! (Well, as of a couple of weeks ago...)



Where have the years gone?

Wanted For Questioning

The police are currently on the lookout for the above individual. Aidan David Graham, age 3, is found in connection with many horrible crimes which include destroying a printer back in 2006, messing up a family room only minutes after it was cleaned, and saturating a mother who was trying to bathe her children. If any of you have information leading to the apprehension of this individual, please contact the authorities immediately. We advise you not to approach the suspect, as he is extremely cute and will likely distract you from your original objective with his delightful ears and winning smile. (Though you may succeed in distracting him by yelling, "Free bobblecue!")

Thank you for your cooperation.

(For anyone confused by this: This is Aidan's passport photo, and I think it looks like a mugshot. Also, the term "bobble-cue" comes from Wordgirl, a fabulous PBS Kids show, which we all like very much. The Butcher tends to butcher the English language with words like "bobblecue" (barbecue) and "diskapointy" (disappointed). If you've not seen this show, I HIGHLY recommend it!)

I Love to Wean!!!

WARNING: Don't read this if you are having breastfeeding challenges, but you are determined to overcome them. Don't give up if you feel good about breastfeeding. I don't want to be a bad influence. But...

I won't give lots of detail, but from the title of this post you might've guessed that, after many tears, debate with my husband, prayer, lots of lost sleep, pain, etc., we decided to give up the benefits of breastfeeding in favor of bottle feeding. As it was with Sophie at 6 weeks (who pulled away from the breast and wouldn't nurse anymore), and Aidan (who was slowly killing me with sleep deprivation and starvation, etc.), it has totally been the right thing for me to do.

Here are some of the reasons I'm glad we weened Ian:

• His daytime feedings are no longer 1 1/2 hours apart on a regular basis. (I kept thinking, "Is this a growth spurt? What am I missing here? I thought growth spurts typically lasted just a few days at a time." Yeah, yeah, you may argue I was misreading his cues, but I'll not defend myself on that matter. I know he wanted to feed.
• My chest doesn't hurt anymore, and I get to wear a bra everyday and all day, if I like - and I like!
• I'm not starving anymore. I get to eat dairy, peanut butter, fruit, etc.
• My baby is happier more often.
• I don't have to change my top in the middle of the night.
• I get to sleep and pawn off night time feedings on my spouse.
• I have energy to actually do stuff. Lactating really exhausted me (not to mention all of the night-time feedings).
• My baby is kind of poochy. As a matter of fact, I'm convinced he gained one pound the first week off the breast. Sounds crazy, yes, but when my babies are a little chubbier, they're a lot happier!

(Doesn't he look happy?)

And the final reason it was right for me:

The day after we weaned Ian, I said, "Sophie, can you tell that Mommy is feeling better today?" Sophie replied, "Yeah, Mommy, you haven't even yelled at us at all yet!"

Don't get me wrong, I kind of liked that purple mouth look. It was pretty punk!

Got Milk?

I do, but that doesn't mean my life as a nursing mother is fun. Here's what breastfeeding means for me:

-Yeast: I have never nursed a baby and not had yeast in my milk ducts early on. The word is "ouch." Yeast makes for extra gassy babies (as if newborns weren't gassy enough) with painful raised rashes (if you aren't careful and using a ton of Bag Balm and Desitin) and usually white patches in the mouth and a "milk" tongue. It also brings along with it a sensitive, painful chest (I'm avoiding using the "n" word) and shooting pains while nursing and during letdown. It is hard to eradicate as Mom and baby must be treated concurrently and often end up reinfecting each other. You also have to use lots of bleach and/or vinegar when washing clothing and towels that come in contact with those areas, or those articles will reinfect you. Oh, yeast is loads of fun!!

-Dietary limitations: In order to decrease the risk of yeast, or to increase the chance of full recovery, I must limit sugar consumption. Amazingly, when I get stressed, I crave sugar. (Or is that the yeast causing the craving? I don't know.) We tried sugar-free candy, but I must have an allergy or something. On a couple of evenings after eating Sugar-free Twizzlers, I had such severe gas pains that I was bent over and unable to move for awhile. It was a little scary.

This sugar limitation is in addition to my avoidance of dairy and peanut butter until Ian is at least 3 months old. My last baby had bloody stools when I ate these foods, and I don't want to risk it this time. We'll see how things go when he's 12 weeks. So you know those reasonably healthy, quick foods that you can pull together in a pinch, like Ravioli for dinner or cheese sticks and yogurt for snacks? No can do.

-Immodesty: Back to the yeast thing - gotta get air. No I'm not doing the Brazillian beach thing and going topless (like you need that image in your head). I just have to limit the number of layers I'm wearing on top whenever possible. So, though I desire to get out and have more freedom, getting fully dressed for public often makes the problem worse. (Like when you've started Diflucin and start feeling better, and then you have four hours out on Sunday for church and choir, and you start feeling ouchy again on Monday? Hmmm...) I don't love it.

The rest of my challenges are the typical stuff: being a human pacifier, leaking a lot, lots of laundry to do (with fragrance free detergent, I must add), not being able to get out that much or share Ian responsibilities very much, waking after 3 or 4 hours of sleep panicking that my milk will dry up during the night if Ian sleeps too well. You know, the usual.

All of this makes a certain event this week even more exciting: Ian accepted a bottle from David on Wednesday! Sure it was only 1 ounce of breast milk, but hey, that still means we're starting to look at a little more freedom for me. Also, if it turns out that breastfeeding is robbing me of my sanity (don't worry, we're not there yet), then we have other options. Hurray!!!



Okay, okay... I have to mention the positive stuff. So far, it looks like there's plenty of milk, as he's gaining just fine and meets his diaper quota. (It's hard to tell, but he sleeps pretty well and looks a bit poochy). Also, he's really cute and loves to nurse. So he's pretty happy for now! You can't beat the price, and in our chaotic state, it helps to not have 50 bottles to wash every day. So, there I'm being positive!


Let's just hope we can get some of these other problems fixed. I'm dying for a big bowl of ice cream or a yummy P,B, & J!!

All the World's a Stage... and kids often get the best lines

We were in the kitchen and Aidan was projecting ahead to future purchases of Legos Star Wars and Indiana Jones toys. (He does this a lot. He even mentions it in prayers.) Sophie is apparently getting sick of his running commentary on said toys and came out with the following:

"You think Legos Star Wars and Indiana Jones are the only Legos in the country?!"

Aidan's great line for the day was less creative, but equally enjoyable to me. After trying a new kind of fruit snack (he likes very few kinds), he complained, "I don't like these fruit snacks. Give me a break!" (Apparently he hears someone say that a lot these days).

Whisperer, Wise, Weissbluth or... Whatever Works! A Cry for Advice (or at least validation)...

When I have a baby, the first thing I do is panic. The second thing I do is run to the books.

You see, even though this is my third baby, I really have no idea what I'm doing. I space my babies so far apart that I cannot, for the life of me, remember what we did before that made me enjoy having a baby enough to want another one again. I mean, they're cute and all, but when I'm short on rest, nutrition, and some semblance of a routine, I feel pretty much like I'm going crazy. So I need all the help I can get.

The problem with books is that a) many of them contradict each other, and b) some of the advice is extremely difficult to implement. Take the Baby Whisperer books (God bless her and may she rest peacefully!). Having a breastfed baby on a perfect 3 hour start to start routine, with your baby taking all sleep in his crib from day 1, taking a pacifier, etc., is so difficult. Breastmilk production changes throughout the day as mom gets more tired, some babies (mine, at least) have a very hard time moving back and forth from the pacifier to the breast (he hasn't really taken a binki or a bottle yet), and, somewhere around 2 weeks post-due date, my baby stopped staying asleep in the crib. The baby whisperer says, "It must be gas or reflux." Yes, you're probably right, but I don't think it's abnormal gas or reflux that would require medication. So I ask "What's the actual percentage of babies who start taking all sleep in the crib from day 1 and never stray from it?" I'm really curious.

Another Tracy Hogg (AKA Baby Whisperer) method is the "Shush-pat" method of soothing them to sleep under 3 months of age. I used it for 5 days, determined to get him to sleep without having to nurse him to sleep. He was about 1 week old when I started. After 5 days of having him cry on and off for 15 minutes while I put him down, with me hovering over him shushing and patting with my sore, aching 1 week post-partum body at least 4 or 5 times a day. I kept thinking, "How many more weeks will I have to do this?" I finally decided that I couldn't stand another day, let alone the months ahead. I went online and into the books again and searched to see when they'd "catch on" and not need quite as much soothing to sleep. The answer: When they're under 3 months, they really can't self-soothe. The meaning: I had better be okay shushing and patting for a number of more weeks, or I need to be okay with a different method. I returned the original "prop" of nursing him to sleep. My guilt waxed, but my sanity started to return.

Babywise had an interesting quote. It commented that it won't hurt your baby to cry for 15 or 20 minutes at a time. I totally agree that, if you're going crazy and you're trying to calm down and avoid shaking a baby, it's much better to leave them alone for a little while and let them cry if necessary. But the quote did not differentiate between a 2 week old baby and a 4 month old baby. I believe that a 4 month old would be fine if allow to cry, because they can learn to self-soothe. I'm back with the Baby Whisperer on Baby's inability to self-soothe. Hence, the 2 week old crying for so long is likely to have some problems. But, I don't know, maybe I'm wrong.

Then there's Dr. Weissbluth (my personal favorite). He talks a lot about the biology of a new baby, and, according to him, most babies enter a fussy phase at 2 weeks post due-date which peaks at 6 weeks and is usually completely gone by 12 weeks. An immature nervous system is acknowledged as one culprit. He also includes an article by a lactation consultant who points out the most newborns are gassy and have some reflux, and it usually clears up by about 12 weeks. So Weissbluth basically says, "Try to meet their needs for sucking and rocking and holding during that fussy phase. You can't spoil them. Also, my condolences, but life will be hardest between 4and 6 weeks, but should get progressively better after that. Do all you can to take care of yourself and get help from others."

Why do I favor Weissbluth? Because I HAVE TO!!! I clung to my Baby Whisperer book for the first week we had Ian home, and I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown in no time. I tried to stick to her ideas, but I was so exhausted and terrified that I'd end up leaving David and the kids forever and join a rock band or something. It was awful.

I love routine. I love order, and I really do believe in a home where there is structure. The Baby Whisperer and Babywise make a lot of sense. The baby needs to learn to live in a family. They thrive when you guide their care. But, will someone please acknowledge that many babies have that fussy phase, or am I just crazy? Well, according to Weissbluth, I'm not crazy. But why is it that so few of the moms I know acknowledge that period of time? Did their baby not go through it? Did they not even try to structure the baby's life until they were 3 months old, so they didn't see any difference? Or have they forgotten.

By the way, I personally think it's a sin to forget how hard newborn life is. If a mother of a newborn asks, "Did you ever have problems with breastfeeding?", it's your responsibility to either say, "Actually, no, but I think I was kind of lucky that way," or you should immediately empathize with them. Authoritative advice should be left until after the commiseration. I left a Relief Society activity one night only to go home and cry my eyes out for over an hour, because I was gushing my frustrations over breastfeeding, and I got bit of advice but no empathy. Either nursing was easy for them, or they didn't feel like answering at all. (I decided that was the wrong time, place, and crowd to express my frustrations over something that makes me so emotional. It wasn't their fault.)

So I have to ask you: Did any of your babies have a stage at the beginning where they need to be held all of the time or took all of their sleep in a swing? Did any of your babies refuse a pacifier for a long time (or get way confused by one)? I really have to know. If your babies were "angels" who never hit those phases, then I am extremely jealous of you and will stare, green-eyed at you next time I see you. :)

But seriously, can anyone out there relate?

All of that said, he's so special. Here are some of the many faces of Ian Michael Graham, my little love (AKA "Little Chicken" or, sometimes to his Daddy, "Grumpy Chicken"):

Snuggling with Daddy! (I'm a little jealous of the short one, as I have very little snuggle time with Daddy).

He is adored by Sophie and Aidan, and I just know that he loves it, even when he gets fussy a second later.

I like to call this one on the left "Put Your Hands Up and Don't Make Any Sudden Movements"

I like when my babies sneeze. I don't feel quite the same when they hiccup.

"Yawn and stretch and try to come to life..." (though he looks like he's saluting someone)

SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO handsome!!

I guess we can just tough out this hard period. He's worth it!