The Party's Over...

I just plugged in my set of hot rollers in preparation for the closing night of my play. I find myself dragging my feet to get ready tonight. And I don't think it is totally because I am extremely tired of spending an hour rolling 30 curlers in my hair and putting on tons of make-up. (see picture to the left)

In truth, there are a few things I won't miss about being in the play, namely: the above-mentioned preparations, changing in a tiny curtained room backstage about 10 times in a 2 hour period, and having most of my evenings tied up. But at the same time, I will miss the talented, kind, fun people I have gotten to know, the opportunity to sing and act in front of an audience (as opposed to in my car or spontaneously in front of my poor friends), and listening backstage as the audience audibly enjoys the funny lines and nuances in this entertaining play.

So I guess everything in this life has an ending, but we take with us the experience and relationships we have gained, and go on to new experiences. This has been fun. But I guess "The Party's Over". Good Night All. And a huge thank you to those of you who made the effort to come see me in my performance - it means the world to me!!

The Lemonade Stand

It was a good thing that the reason I stopped was NOT to quench my massive thirst with a delicious glass of lemonade.

I was driving in a Provo neighborhood today, when I noticed some kids at a lemonade stand. It only took me a second to decide to swing around to their side of the street and stop. A cup of lemonade for 25 cents - great deal, huh? I gave them 50 cents - it was a pretty big plastic cup (a mixture of pink and yellow lemonade, the girl pouring it out of the cooler said). I drove away with a smile on my face, only marred a moment by the one sip of "lemonade" I took (colored water would have been more accurate a description - I waited until I was around the corner to stop and water a lawn with it.)

I was reminded of the lemonade stand my sister and I set up when I was about 7. We lived in a cul-de-sac in Springville, and thought we would earn some fast money by selling lemonade. We didn't have a cooler - only a pitcher and some small paper cups. I remember my mom teaching us a financial lesson. You see, we didn't get to keep all our profits. We had to pay her back for the sugar and lemonade mix we used that she had bought. I have no idea how much money we made. Probably not much - our cups of lemonade probably went for more like 5 cents. But what a great memory! I wonder if there is any kid in the U.S. who hasn't had at least one roadside lemonade stand.

So my 50 cents bought more than the smiles on the kids' faces - it bought me a few good memories.

Wouldn't YOU buy a cup of lemonade from this cutie?! (:

About Caterpillars and Butterflies

"You have to want to be a butterfly so much that you're willing to give up being a caterpillar".

-Wendy Watson

Do you find that at times in your life a theme seems to thread through everything you hear and see and experience for a certain amount of time? I do. I suppose that theme is probably a lesson I need to learn - or re-learn. This is a post of some experiences I've had of late, relating to my current theme. Maybe it will fit into your current theme, too. Maybe not. Anyway, I felt like sharing.

On Sunday, I came across a note that I made in my church notebook about 3 years ago in response to a Sunday School class I was attending at the time. We were talking about all that Nephi and his family left behind in order to travel to the Promised Land. Some questions posed were: What is your promised land? What are you willing to sacrifice, or give up, in order to attain it? I noted that sometimes, in order to get to our "promised land", we have to have the faith to leave where we are now, even though it sometimes means leaving the familiar and comfortable behind.

How many times have I missed out on something in my life because I didn't have the courage to leave my comfort zone?

"You've Got Mail" was on TV yesterday and I watched the end of it for the umpteenth time as I got ready for my play. I was reminded of my favorite poignant line from that movie, said by the lead: "Sometimes I wonder about my life. I lead a small life - well, valuable, but small - and sometimes I wonder, do I do it because I like it, or because I haven't been brave?"

I also just got back from seeing the movie "Letters to Juliet". Now, granted, it is a very romantically cheesy movie that plays to every female fantasy cliche. But it was also a story of having the courage to seize second chances, and to not allow the "what ifs" in our lives to control or haunt us.

I've decided that I want to be a butterfly.

When did I move to the Mid-West?!

I suppose I should just accept the fact that we will be having crazy weather from now on - it is the Last Days, after all. In the last three weeks we have had a blizzard with 3 inches of snow, 95 degree sunshine, and a torrential downpour, plus a lot of in-between weather.

I ran home from church today (1 block away) in a downpour, sloshing through our flooded street with cold water up to my calves, then found water coming in through my bedroom window after it had saturated the window well. Great fun to climb into that well through spider webs (I shudder just thinking about it) to scoop out pails of water.

Here are a few pictures of our street I snapped after church as proof that I am not insane (at least about the rain) or hallucinating:

Mom & Dad driving home from church - Dad went home to get the car because we had walked to church. Then I ran home to make sure he was OK and hadn't drowned or anything.

Blessings & the Carnival

Recently, while preparing to teach a lesson in Relief Society about prayer, I re-read a talk given by S. Michael Wilcox. I have been pondering one part of it in particular - a reference to Luke 11 verses 11 to 13, where the Lord says "If a son shall ask bread of any of you that is a father, will he give him a stone?... If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children: how much more shall your heavenly Father give..."

The point he made in the talk is that sometimes, when we don't get what we pray for or expect, but instead get something that maybe we didn't want, we "turn our blessings into a stone". The author says, "I may interpret the given good as something bad by constantly thinking of what I wanted instead of what I received."

I've tried more in the past few weeks to see the blessings in my life instead of dwelling on the ones I want but do not have. One blessing I have in not having my own children is being able to be close to all my nieces and nephews. I absolutely adore them and, truth be told, spoil them at every opportunity. I am able to do things for them and with them that maybe I wouldn't be able to do if I had my own children to spend money and time on.

I thought of this as I returned home after taking my nephews to the carnival the other day. It was a joy to hold their little hands and help them onto the rides, then see their faces light up as the rides began to move. And then... ahhh... the cotton candy! I know it is insanely expensive for each of those rides, but since I can do it right now, I wanted to enjoy these blessings in my life.

A True Hero

I have known some exemplary teachers in my time. I know public education can get a bad rap, but if you knew the teachers I know, you wouldn't hesitate to entrust them with your precious children. There is one in particular I have been thinking about a lot today, as I've worked on a video of her students to give to her tomorrow.

I remember the first day I met Roberta, or "Miss J." as she is known throughout my school. Before school started, in August of last year, my new first grade team was meeting to go over a few things. Roberta blew through the door in a flurry of activity. She was fun, animated, outgoing, friendly, and kind of outrageous - I loved her instantly. What has stuck with me most is something she said as we discussed ways to meet the needs of our ELL students. One suggestion was having all of them go to one teacher at a certain time each day. She was not fond of the idea. She emphatically stated that she "prayed each one of her students into her class" and they were hers! I watched throughout the school year as she fiercely loved each one of those kids and proved this statement time and again.

Roberta's classroom was right next to mine, and she instantly took me under her wing.

Having taught for 20 + years, she had boxes of files and ideas to share. It was not unusual for her to jet into my classroom for a minute during the day to give me a few "extra" copies of activities or hand me a candybar from her stash "just because". She would pop over sometimes and tell my students how much she loved me, or come in to give my students hugs and tease them. She made learning fun - for instance, on St. Patrick's Day, she brought her class over to my room along with some "magic potion" the leprechauns had left overnight (pistachio pudding mix). The students all got a little in a cup and we added milk. They stirred it and -voila!- green potion!

She would give spontaneous hugs and the love just spilled out of her onto whoever was near. She told me the day they said she couldn't hug her students was the day she would quit teaching.

In April, the week after we returned from Spring Break, I noticed that she hadn't shown up to work when the first bell rang. Now, since she was notoriously late (although never that late), I didn't get overly worried - I just brought her students into my classroom to read for awhile. But then 5 minutes went by, then 10, and no Miss J. I called her home and cell phones and got voice mail. So I called the office who began to track her down. The secretary came to my room about a half hour later to tell me that Roberta had been in a car accident on the way to work. It didn't seem too serious, as she was conscious (the first thing she said was "how are my students?") and at the nearby Timpanogos Hospital. A sub was called and things got back to a relatively normal state.

Then, at lunchtime, my principal and the secretary went to visit her and found out that she had been life-flighted to a Salt Lake hospital with internal injuries and at least a crushed pelvis bone. We all began to worry for real.

I kept thinking about how things can change drastically in just a moment. It was touch-and-go for awhile there. Roberta is recovering still from her injuries. A long-term substitute was found for her class who was an wonderful, positive, hard-working woman. My team leader, also an amazing teacher and woman, spent hours packing and organizing Roberta's many belongings so that they could be moved to her home (she will be teaching next year, we hope, but in another classroom and grade.) My team worked together to give Miss J.'s students the official end-of-year reading test, and many of the faculty helped any way they could.

I missed my friend every day those last few weeks of school, as I got to work and noted the absence of her blue SUV. I missed her when I unlocked my classroom door in the morning and when something happened during the day that I wanted to share with her. She is one of my heroes and truly influenced my life for the better throughout this school year.

Little Boys and Haircuts

I went to visit my sister a few days ago while her boys were taking their nap. She warned me that she had just given them "summer haircuts". She had actually only planned on cutting my younger nephew's hair super short, but then the older one begged for the same haircut. He was warned that the curls he loved would be gone with that type of cut. But he insisted anyway.

When the boys woke up, I went upstairs to see them, and I said "hey, guys - do you know where my nephews are? It thought they were up here in this room but they're not." They giggled at the teasing and I acted like I had just figured out who they really were.

These boys are cute no matter what length their hair is!

1950's glam

The play I am in, "Bells Are Ringing", opened tonight to a great audience. Although we actually had an audience last night, too, for our final dress rehearsal - the family members of the cast. I love playing to an audience!

This has been a long week filled with spending an hour each night curling my hair and putting on tons of makeup, then changing my outfit at least 6 times within a 2 hour period. One afternoon I spent vacuuming the theater and helping clean up backstage.

But when the overture begins and the stage lights go off signaling our first entrance, the adrenaline rushes through me and I get that thrill that only performing gives. I love it. I am addicted to it. And best of all, it's fun!

This is part of the stage, with one of the leads posing after our performance tonight.