Paleo Review

So I have been doing this paleo thingy--here is a summary based off of this site

It is a somewhat scientifically untested diet but based on an interesting theory that our bodies have not evolved to handle all the processed stuff, many refer to it as the cave man diet.  Some people think it is like Atkins, but it isn't--the meats are lean, they focus more on veggies and I don't recall Atkins people cutting out grains.

I am sure I have blogged about in the past, but as a refresher, every year from October to December 25, I don't eat sugar or refined flour.  Or chocolate, but that is kind of redundant because I can't afford to buy chocolate that doesn't have sugar or flour.

Why do I do this?  Well, I use this dieting approach called attrition:

See that blue dot?  Well, if you are 30 and you weigh 150, you are somewhere in the 60th percentile for weight, kind of on the tubby side.  But if you wait it out at 150 for 10 years, suddenly, you find yourself hovering right above 50th.  If you wait it out for 10 more years at 150?  You drop down below, so suddenly you become trimmer than the average woman.  And all I really want is to be a little less fat than everyone else.  Isn't that the American Dream?  So I just need to maintain my weight in an effort to lose the appearance of weight each year.  Brilliant, no? (I don't know what I will do when I hit 70 and the average goes back down but I am thinking that is just because the older generation aren't as obese as we are so I am counting on that going back up as we age)

In my effort to win this normalizing war and shave off a few pounds during the holidays that I may have gained from my busiest travel season, I simply go without foods I really love.  Abstinence, very effective (mostly).

This year, I discovered that after 3 years of going without sugar and flour, I have replaced those foods with other yummy things that have rendered the change in my diet almost useless and I wasn't noticing any difference in my weight or the way I felt.

So this year I needed something different, a change that would help me shed those extra pounds and stick with my general short-term policy.

As a periodically avid pinterester, I had started to see reference to paleo recipes.  And aside from the cashew cheesecakes, most everything looked like good foods, things I believe in eating.  I started stalking browsing their forums and I was impressed by the paleo community.  They don't seem to be strict like other kinds of communities--no letter of the law involved for the most part.  In fact, the majority of the questions about "are we allowed to...?" on the paleo forums most often yield a "well, here are the reasons to avoid that food, but listen to your body to know if that food impacts you in a negative way."  Any community that goes with a more spirit of the law approach and encourages one to listen to the body sounds like one I could be a part of for awhile.

So I decided to try it.

The biggest changes for me?

Dairy products.  I didn't know I was eating so much cheese there, whoops! It was easy enough to give up, but made all my concoctions slightly less yummy.

Corn products.  Long ago I cut out corn syrup with very few exceptions and I haven't eaten the fake corn stuff from chicken nuggets or other hidden ingredients (thank you mucho to Michael Pollan for forcing me to read every single label ever).  But tortilla chips?  And yummy corn tortillas??? What the heck was I going to do about this one?  I did it, but it was hard.

Whole Wheat.  I thought this was going to be hard, but given that I think it impacts my reflux so I had cut back over the years, it was actually not too tough. Missed a few almond butter sandwiches, but I was strong.

Rice
What the.. no rice?  Do you know even KNOW how many foods contain rice?  Or how many tasty and healthy meals can be enhanced with rice?  And how rice makes everything cheaper?  Yes, I make quinoa but not a real replacement.  And I am not making no cauliflower rice.

The results?

Well, I did shave off a few pounds so good for me.  But, like any other change over a period of months, I learned a few things which were of value:

1) I used to have to blow my nose every morning.  Like, I would get up, get my drink of water and a box of kleenex.  Since I cut out the stuff, no problems.  After December 25 I have had a bit of ice cream and, whoops, blowing my nose again.  So, perhaps bye-bye to dairy for awhile.

2) I have completely lost my appetite for whole wheat flour.  I am even LESS tempted by processed flour (like flour tortillas, once a former favorite food even seems a little gross).

3) I have no idea what to eat now.  I love the paleo foods but they take so much effort!  So I have gotten into a rut with a few foods but I haven't come up with many "quick" dinners other than the same old soups that my kids are tolerating.  I have dropped certain habits but haven't picked up new ones, how annoying!

4) Eating right is expensive.  I don't care who you are or how amazing of a cook you are, I have come to the conclusion that unless you have unlimited time, eating right is costly.  I am not a woman of leisure who has hours to prepare food, I am full-time employee, full-time student, and full-time mother. I can either come home exhausted and then spend hours cooking or I can do something quick and expensive.  What would you choose?

5) I am still not going organic except for corn chips.  Sorry.  I am still not good enough at what I put in my body in general to get to that refined state of being.  If it is around the same price, I will do it, but other than that, count me out of that movement.

So I think I will stick with the no sugar policy, I like it, I feel good, and it keeps the weight off.

Moving forward I will keep most of what I gained from the paleo people and stick with mainly those foods, but I reintroduced the corn chips (organic to avoid the whole GMO thingy).

My resolution for the next several months is to require 30 minutes a day of exercise. I am hoping to keep the habit as long as possible before reality sets in.  If I can keep up the self-control of the food thing and then add the exercise, maybe I will feel great, stay trim, and beat the death threat of age 55 (average age in which my parents died) that my husband thinks I face.

Overall score for the paleo diet: 8 (until I get a few recipes under my belt).
Overall score for the paleo community: 10

Last Travel of the Year

I had a horrible flight experience today and to commemorate this and appreciate that it was truly my only really bad travel for 2012, I will bore myself and any potential readers with a travel story.  
Seriously, travel stories are like dreams, no one really likes to hear about them.  But here we go:

I overslept.  To be precise, I told Siri to set my alarm for 5:30 AM.  I always verify the alarm because she sometimes ignores me but I was so exhausted that I forgot.  Did I mention I had a redeye the day before and then worked all day after landing in time for my morning meeting?  Anyway, this morning, I woke up at 7:30.  The time my flight was to depart from Columbus, Ohio, and discovered that Siri did not hear me because my alarm was not even set.  Obviously, I missed the flight.

And this detail doesn't make any sense to normal people but is important for frequent flyers--I am not on my normal airline (Delta) but US Airways.  I used to be on their preferred list but I never did like them.  Now I am a Delta girl, all the way.

So the US Air people tell me in Columbus that it is unlikely I can even get out of there today and all flights from all cities are booked so they can't promise I will arrive in SLC until at least Sunday.  They sent me to go to other airlines to ask about additional flights (what?  awesome).

In the end, US Air did get me out of Columbus to Charlotte, but they had to de-ice the plane so we left 30 minutes late.

As is usual for bumpy bad weather flights, I contemplated my own mortality, particularly when, about 20 feet off the ground, the pilot suddenly pulls up and instead we do an angled, wild, and rickety circle around the airport.  We landed so late that I only had 15 minutes to get all the way across the airport.

So I hop on one of those beepy golf carts and make friendly conversation with a fellow passenger who is blind and has a seeing eye dog.  The golf cart stops us at the bottom of an escalator and tells us to take another golf cart to make it the rest of the way, but blind man says he will instead follow me since we are both headed to Phoenix for the next leg.  I look at my ticket and see that it says C-16 and walk quickly over there while the blind man and his dog are trying to make it across several moving walkways and through thousands of holiday travelers, go carts, etc. It was a very stressful experience to go fast enough to get there but slow enough where he can literally blindly follow me.
We arrive to the gate finally, 5 minutes before the intended departure and I look at the gate which says "San Francisco", not Phoenix.  Well, rather than trying to work it out at that gate, I grab the man's ticket and it says B3.  B!!! That is all the way across the terminal again!

I race across the terminal with him madly following with his little doggy and I am on the verge of tears because know that I have ruined his holiday!! He is now going to miss this flight because I must have gotten the gate wrong, you know?  So we arrive to the gate and it says Dallas, so then I start crying and explain to the gate agent that it was my fault that he missed the flight and she says "sweetie, the Phoenix flight is not leaving for another two hours, he didn't miss it you are fine."

And I am so relieved I cry more, and then realize that I missed my own flight and have reduced my own possibility of getting home today.

I should have just talked to the people at the gate like I would have if I had been myself.  I didn't realize that he and I were on different flights!  But what kind of person doesn't help the blind guy? I mean, after I have just searched my soul on the near-death airplane, I figure it is better to miss a flight and help a blind person than to selfishly run ahead, right?

So I go the bathroom and just start crying uncontrollably.  Like, sobbing.  What the heck, you know?   A few ladies in the bathroom were worried about me, which was kind of annoying but helped a little since I realized I was wallowing a bit.

But here is the touchy-feely ending.  I go to eat lunch (because now I have like tons of time) and eat dessert for the first time in months because I am just tired, so tired, and so frazzled.  And I call Steve and I start crying again (so much crying!!!)  Well, I go to pay for my meal, and the server tells me that the lady who had been sitting across from me felt sorry for my travel troubles so she bought me lunch and wanted to wish me a Merry Christmas.  So what do I do?
Cry of course.

Can you imagine?

I am a chump.

Oh the Drama

Oh what a roller coaster ride it is to have your child set her heart upon the lead role in the school musical.

Let me start by making it clear that I have never tried out for a play in my life.  I have never auditioned for a singing opportunity--though I have sung a few solos and duets, I never tried out for them (LDS congregations are highly forgiving of off-pitch soloists at church).

So to say that I was unprepared for the drama of it, I really was quite unprepared.

I hesitated to share this given the nature of the experiences, but if I can help some other unsuspecting mother out there who thinks that she, too, is supportive of her daughter auditioning.  Names have been changed to protect the drama.

Because honestly, that is what it is--drama.  I understand now, when people use the phrase drama to explain some steep emotional roller coaster, they are simply referring to audition-like feelings.

Here is my story... rewind three days (remember this for the ending):

Eldest daughter:  What piece shall I sing?

Mother:  What part do you want?

Eldest daughter:  The Wardrobe!!

Live-in Auntie:  How about Shy from Once Upon a Mattress?  That completely fits this kind of character that you are aiming for, goofy but confident.  It is perfect.

Everyone:  PERFECT!!

We had a great time, she enjoyed practicing, I gave her some bad advice about body language (apparently you are supposed to plant your feet and keep your hands to your side, I told her to use the stage, etc.) and in the end she did get a callback.  And she worked pretty hard to get the piece down in a short amount of time.

But the callback was for Belle.  BELLE!  The LEAD PART!  And all of her friends got really on board with her playing the lead, their own shattered hopes placed firmly upon her shoulders as one who could get the lead part.

So alas, my beloved daughter, first time around for an audition, built up a 24-hour dream that she would get the lead.

Expectancy theory gets you every time.

Was she confident?  Yes, probably more than most of the other young ladies.  Was she a wonderful singer?  Competitive, perhaps not the strongest.  Was she physically belle-like?  Well.. you tell me:

(hello, time to update these pictures, sheesh!)

She has brown hair.  And that my friends, is enough of a detail to make a little girl feel that all her dreams will come true.

Well, back to my her emotional roller coaster:

After the callbacks yesterday, I asked my lovely who was the best singer and she very clearly stated that it was Rose (pseudonym, claro).  Rose, she said, "shattered all my hopes and dreams."  So, of course, she knew that Rose was a contender.

What she was not prepared for was Rose approaching her in the middle of the day (before the cast was listed) and saying "prepare to be my understudy" in the way that only a 5th grade girl can.  Honestly, it is a great line, even if a bit cheeky.   We added it to family lore of hilarious things to say when facing someone as a professional wrestler.

But the fragility of the 6th grade constitution cannot handle such comments at this tender age.  I can imagine my daughter started thinking that this little girl would get her comeuppance as soon as the casting list came about and she could even start to imagine some pretty snappy comebacks.

When the final cast was posted:

Daughter: Wardrobe
Rose: Belle

You remember that my daughter was seeking the part of the wardrobe, right?

And that we picked a part that would highlight her silliness so that she could get that exact role, right?

Remember that whole expectancy theory thing?

Needless to say, she was devastated.  She sobbed and crocodile tears fell as her little developing body shook in my arms.

I can't handle this story, can you?

I was a little parental at first about it, trying to talk her out of saying mean things about Rose.  But I tried to remember myself at that age and decided to just validate her feelings instead of trying to make her empathetic.  I lasted about 5 minutes before I tried to remind her that she had told me that Rose was the best singer (which she immediately and violently refused to admit) and that she wanted the wardrobe all along.  She cried periodically throughout our conversation and tried to come up with every excuse under the sun to explain the nepotism/politics/dumb reasons why she did not get the lead role.

Interestingly, little Rose called up about an hour after said conversation and apologized.  As in, my daughter got off the phone and said to me "she sounded really genuine."

Several hours later, these are the golden, beautiful words that came out of my daughter's mouth:

I am happy for Rose.  I know that I said she wasn't very good earlier, but that isn't true.  She was really good.  I am glad I did not get the lead, because SO many girls are disappointed and that would be hard.  And I think when she said that to me about the understudy, maybe what she meant was that she thought I was second best.  I am really grateful to my two best friends and for my mother who helped me today.

She finished off her little soliloquy by saying "Am I a bad person? Because I was really mean earlier when I said she didn't deserve the part.  She did."

My little mommy heart strings pulled so hard I thought I was going to cry again.

Thank goodness I can go to bed now, aren't you exhausted?

Evolution in Blogging

I have had been a faithful blogger for a decade before my posts slowed to a trickle.  At first I thought it was busier, but I have realized lately that part of the reason for this slowing down is that my life has becoming increasingly more private.

Not that I have much to hide, I am still just as open in person with my friends as I have historically been on this blog, but that there is more at stake in the written world.  Here are what I believe my reasons are for less blogging:

1) Children who can now browse the internet.  As far as I can tell, they have yet to happen upon this blog, but there is always a chance that that "hilarious"  parenting fail moment I have freely blogged about in the past will show up in therapy for my children in a couple of decades.  I can't have a written record of the conversations I had with them about their coming of age including appropriate internet usage or bodily development.  just. can't.  But believe me, there is some good material floating out in the universe.

2) I have further access to secret district stuff.  Did you know that existed? Yeah, it does.  And I can't tell you about it.  I would like to, though, see this post on how much I dislike secrets.

3) I am now spending time in public schools learning things that are not particularly positive. I can't write an exposé about the inner workings of teacher and student discipline, my take on whether or not large comprehensive high schools should even work, or how I really feel about mediocrity in instruction.

4) I am on a violently emotional roller coaster with grad school in which one day I am ready to write a novella on how ridiculous grad school really is and how little the institution can teach me and the next I want to share all of my new knowledge with the world.

I imagine one day I will return to daily or weekly blogging because it has historically been so therapeutic for me, perhaps when and if we move.  Which brings me to my last point:

5) The Way Things Are (Grad School Status):  Steve is applying for jobs whilst finishing his dissertation.  We haven't heard back from most of the places where he has applied and chances are high that we will move to the middle of nowhere for a year or two before we find our final resting place.  I think we initially wanted to move for a longer period of time so the kids wouldn't have to move a bunch more, but nothing like the application process to remind you that after all that you can do, your future is not in your own hands.  Uncertainty is not fun to blog about--it comes across as anxiety or whining, neither of which have a place in my blog.  I write this to record the joy and comedy of my life, not the dark shadows in between that frankly are boring.   Whether we move to some exotic location (East or West Coast?) or some less exotic location (anywhere in between?), I suppose that my friendship quotient will return to 0 and I will have no choice to embrace my old friend the blog, who has always been a listening ear in hard and happy times.

Detroit Westin

A wonderful General Conference Weekend (for those who didn't read about the announcement, big news for us Mormon folk!) in which I spent several hours in the living room with my children.  We should do that more often!

A sample of the kind of "fun family time" that my kids enjoy:


Casey:  And that is why I am your favorite son, right mom?

Bridget: Well, you are her only son.  Which also makes you her LEAST favorite son.


It was filled with such loving, brother/sister bonding kinds of conversations.  But, as a family that values sarcasm, it was tremendously fulfilling.

We had a fun time together in the afternoon and then on Sunday in which I felt grateful ALL day for my kids.  This is a rarity, I am not really that grateful of a mother.  Maybe because I am tired all the time (next post: my chronic dehydration).

I ended up coming in Saturday around noon because I had to stay overnight in Detroit at a hotel. I have tremendous guilt when end up an extra night in a hotel, and this was no exception.

But honestly, I have been a little stressed lately and the in-airport Westin (literally, they even have a small security line so you can go directly into the airport from your hotel and you end up near the A gates) was really, truly, lovely.

The smells and colors are so relaxing and I ended up falling asleep at 4 pm.  I woke up at 9, had a nice salmon dinner delivered, and then I was back asleep.  I woke up, did some homework, and then got on my plane to go home.  I came home so relaxed I think it allowed me to have a much better experience with the family.

My husband and children should be grateful for the extra night away from home because mommy came home a better person.  I wish I were that good to begin with, but I am not.

Thank you to the Detroit Westin for providing a luxurious layover experience.

Schedule Record

So things are pretty hectic right now.  I decided to write a blog post about it to remind myself one day of what I was doing and why.  I went to the doctor yesterday and she said to do three things:

1) Drink more fluids.  A LOT more fluids.
2) Exercise.  Daily
3) Cut back on something or reorganize structures to reduce stress.

Why is exercise ALWAYS the answer?  Sheesh.  I went on a walk yesterday, I sincerely hope I can keep it up.

So here is a general list, what would we even cut?

Lee:

• Work full-time, traveling about 6 days a month right now (down from last year's 10, yay!)
• Going to school full-time, 8 am to 6 am on Wednesdays (with a one hour break form 2-3)
• Homework.  Oh the homework--last week I had three analyses due for class.  Three! 
• An internship at a local high school (where I spend 1-2 days a week of my vacation time)
• Counselor in YW presidency (Monthly meeting, Wednesday nights, Sundays)

Steve:

• Kids to soccer games (2) every Saturday, every Wednesday
• Young men's secretary (meetings, Wednesday nights, Sundays)
• One kid in music classes (little Megs, oh my gosh is she cute)
• Applying for jobs (and every last one of them is in the East Coast yo)
• Writing a dissertation
• Following BYU football

There are some things we are both doing, there are some things that neither of us are doing though we should.

I basically had to cut my Korean TV watching, the biggest loss ever. 

Junior High Romance

My son is a nice kid.

He is 13.

He has never once expressed an interest in girls and I have never asked.  But this summer, a cute little girl at church came up to me during a campout we were on and the following conversation ensued:

Girl:  Do you know who your son likes?

Me:  No.  We don't talk about these things.

Girl:  I know.   I know who he likes.

Me:  I don't want to know.  It would be too embarrassing.  He wouldn't want me to know.

Girl:  Me.  He likes me.

Me:  Lalalalalalala {covering ears}

Girl: No, he does, for real.  I know because he was getting mad at his friend for chatting with me on facebook.

Me: LALALALALALALALA

Girl:  It's true.  Seriously.  Isn't that cute?

This was my official maturation as a mother.  I don't know why I am not the kind of mom who wants to know these things, but I just can't handle it.  My mom constantly, constantly asked if I liked boys.  I always had some boy I liked, never told her.  As a kid, I kind of felt like it was none of her business, and as a mom, I feel the same way.  Not my business.  Unless you want to try to sneak her in your window at night, then it definitely would be my business.

So this same little girl gave a talk at church on Sunday and I noticed that his friend in front of him kept turning around and they were exchanging glances.  I kept looking for some distracting item in the row and then I realized that it was the girl.  The girl! 

So this is the conversation that happened yesterday on the couch:

Me:  Son, do you like girls?

Son:  {no hesitation} yes.

{pause for information note: this child NEVER says yes outright unless he is arguing with his sister.  He answers nearly every question with an "I dunno" so for him to say yes is a resounding YES}

Me:  Do you like A girl?

Son: {no hesitation} yes.

Me: Does she know?

Son: I don't know, I think so.

Me:  What would you do if she liked you back?

Son: That would be awesome?

Me:  But what would you DO?  I mean, what does that even mean?

Son:  Mom, I wouldn't do anything, I am 13.

That's right son, that is right.  

But... I feel so... strange!  And now my little girl wears a bra that she can actually fill and started going to the mall and referring to boys as guys and I think when did this happen?  When did my children become people?  People who like other people?

It is both what I have always wanted and what I have feared.  I wanted them to grow up, but not to start to LIKE people!  I don't want them to have a crush because it means inevitable heartbreak--either the object of the crush will not like them, a devastating blow when someone reveals the information as your well-intentioned friends are (Landee, you know who you are) or the person will return the feelings and it will end in some relationship that will go in the direction in some other hormonal-driven thing.

Can't they have more innocent crushes like my junior high crush?

I don't remember thinking about this when we decided to have children, but I am in this for the long haul and I am woefully unprepared.  I will end with an original poem:

 

Oh to the children of the junior high

All your crushes are the apple of some mommy's eye

If and when you decide to reject some love offer

Remember the fragility of the heart that doth proffer

Should you decide to accept some little girl or boy

Just keep in mind that it isn't the real McCoy

Please remember this time in your life is just for harmless fun

Or I will have to change my mind about owning a gun

 

   

I like you, Pig-Rabbit

This post is at the request of a good friend of mine who I think was mocking me.  But here you go, Katie.

This is the tale of how I was tricked by the Japanese to watch hours of Korean soap operas:

A couple of months ago I came up for a great idea for a project for a conference where I was teaching a course for language teachers.  This project was supposed to simulate the learning environment of high school students so the project was designed to be an introductory project for students in their first semester of a language course.  

Here is the gist of the idea:

Have the students (teachers) watch a one-minute video clip of a telenovela (soap opera in Spanish) and create a simple dialogue based on what they think is happening in the scene.  My thought was that they could first watch a scene on mute, and analyze body language, proximity, facial expression, clothing, scenery, and try to make a prediction based on the context.  Then, they could watch the scene with the sound turned on and they could try to understand a word or two to add to the context.

Doesn’t that sound fun? Except… what if they already speak Spanish?  And, can I really figure out what they need if I don’t try the project myself?

So I looked around and found a French soap opera called.. I can't even remember. I tried it but it seemed so boring!! The French may be great lovers, but their novelas are all just lots and lots of words.

So then I tried German, ironically the only show I could find was a biography of Adolph Hitler.  I watched it for a few, but really?  Hitler?  In German?  That sounds even less fun than the French non-romantic version of dialogue.  

So I went Asia.  I ran across a life-changing series called Hana Yori Dango (Boys before Flowers) and after watching the first five minutes, the adorable little girl who plays the main character captured my heart.  

Isn’t she cute?

No! She is actually a tool of the devil to try to tempt you away from your studies, your work, and quality time with your family.

Once I was hooked, I had to watch it the whole way through.  The male lead role was a rather effeminate Michael Jackson look-alike, but as I watched the show, I grew to adore him and the other male leads on the show who were very different iterations of a “real man” than what we portray in the media:

American Real Man (selected for being People's Sexiest Man 2011)

Japanese Real Man

And when season 1 ended on such a cliff hanger, I really had to, I mean just had to finish season 2 as well. 

[Pause to appreciate that the show only had two seasons and ended with a nice wrap-up.]

Then I discovered, you can watch the Taiwanese version of Hana Yori Dango called Meteor Garden. 

I was just curious! 

I learned that the Taiwanese real man looks a little more like a surfer:

And I also learned that you can force yourself upon someone to aggressively kiss them in a Taiwanese show and they consider it romantic, fascinating.

Once I got to the part about amnesia though, I figured I knew the rest of the plot and stopped watching it.  

Until Netflix then had to suddenly show me this:

WHAT?  There is a whole series of shows in Korean with the same Cinderella plot!!

So I started with this one, which to date is my favorite:

It is called Secret Garden.  I LOVE, LOVE the main characters in this story.  I love it.  There is nothing else to say about it.  Aren’t they cute?  I know the plot involves switching bodies like Freaky Friday but the way it is done is just so lovely.

In this show it all started to click together why I love these Asian shows.  Here, in a nutshell, is why I love them so very much:

•  I am sorry to say it, but I actually prefer the Asian real man archetype to the current version of the American real man.  I think we haven’t seen real men in the movies for about 20 years when everything got so politically correct and men have to now be all sensitive. 
•  If you believe these shows to be reflective of their culture, the depiction is that you don’t show physical affection until you are married in Japanese or Korean culture. Thus when they finally do make physical contact (no lie, three of these shows had to have a character fall down onto someone to kiss them because it seems taboo otherwise!)  So… when they do hug or hold hands, it seems like a BIG deal.  Cue music and slow down the filming.
•  Facial expressions are to die for! They hardly say anything, they just look at each other.  Like they just stare.  It is actually quite emotional.  
• The main characters who are women tend to be very modestly dressed.  In fact, these lead women all have a very innocent way about them and wear very normal-looking non-glamorous clothing and hairstyles.  They seem like just regular-looking people and they win the heart of the male characters by being kind, quirky, and stoic. 

American stars of popular show:

Korean stars of popular show:

I was going to recommend one but they are all so good, so here are a few to consider (remember the original titles are in Korean so the translations are like the name of firecrackers) AFTER you watch the ones above, those really are the ones you need to check out once you get hooked.

• Protect the Boss
• You are Beautiful
• Playful Kiss

Thank you Korea, I love your entertainment.  American shows seem so classless now.

Summer Choices

This summer, like others before, has been a complex smorgasbord of choices.  Steve and I take several weeks discussing what we will do, the priorities that we have in how we will spend our money and time.

As our children age we have the added responsibility of providing an active summer schedule to keep inertia, the greatest temptation and enemy of our family, from taking over completely.

This year due to grad school, we could only do one major event together and we selected Grandpa Camp as our top priority and it was a great choice.  I did a post on the highlight reel last year if you will recall.

We forwent Canada and Northern California where Steve presented (and will present) papers this year because the tempting waters of High Rock Lake called our name--but not the lake but the people with whom we spend our time.  My family resides there--not the family where I was placed at birth, but the family that actually picked me and allowed me to join them as an additional daughter, no strings attached at my most awkward and embarrassing time of life: high school.  They loved me then and continue to care for me:

They forgive me when I change my mind last minute and change plans. 

They express gratitude each time I see them that I am a part of the family.

They love my children as their own grandchildren and go out of their way to specially care for them.

They freely accept me for who I am, regardless of any differences in upbringing, family culture, or ways of talking about things.

Who wouldn't want a family like that?

I am grateful to the circumstances, regardless of how difficult at the time, that allowed me to be taken in, cared for, and spiritually saved by this second family.   For others, being an only child with two deceased parents would make for a sad adulthood.  But for me, I have a home.  I have people. 

I wish I could be in two places at once so I wouldn't have had to leave early to be home for grad school because I could have been hanging with the girls on the dock:

My OTHER heritage

Traditions

In my family we cremate everyone. Both of my parents requested to return to dust, their environmental leanings clear in their request to take up less space on the planet upon death. But on Memorial Day, I often regret that to honor my relatives, I do not physically go to visit them anywhere. It is a beautiful tradition my husband's family has to annually spend time remembering those who we have loved and lost.

Summer Rules

I might make a few modifications, but I am definitely stealing this for summer vacation snack rules!

May oh May

May is always a busy month for teachers.  School getting out brings tons of events, usually fun ones, and things like graduation, etc.  At least I thought it was a busy month for teachers, now that I am not one, it turns out it is just busy in general. 

All week I was forwarding things to evernote (life changed, thank you) to focus on during my flight home and it suddenly overwhelmed me so I am recording it for posterity and as a small attempt at putting off those events:

--Return from NYC tonight, home by 1 am (I hope)
--Research and work on presentation to be ready for tomorrow am meeting with my group for my curriculum class
--Tomorrow am, meet with group to prepare for presentation on Tuesday
--Tomorrow noon, go see our favorite family friends.  You know who you are.
--Sunday morning give talk
--Sunday evening get invitations ready for babyshower event I am putting on for visiting teachee
--Tuesday day booked with a quick hiatus to fight a traffic ticket (I am only asking them to knock it down one mph because it will be $100 lower ticket).

I know, boring.  I just want to record the pace of life these days.  I won't even get into all the things I have due for work by Friday.

Goblin Valley Experience

This weekend I went to Goblin Valley, for those who don't know, it is a crazy amazing place 3.5 hours from where we live now.  I can't explain it so I won't try.  Here are several shots to attempt to capture the beauty of it:

It really is like a bunch of little rock goblins.  Speaking of little goblins...

Then my phone died. So I didn't capture the loveliest of all, my new amor for the outdoors that I discovered in a slot canyon. Little Wild Horse Trail. So I have to borrow some pictures from other sources, pretend like the kid in this picture is one of the young women in my ward or one of my own wee ones:

 Or...

Prior to this trip, when people would say "let's go on a hike" I would think things like uphill, stickers in my socks, plant identification, and being really thirsty.  But this kind of hiking, this kind of adventurous climbing and moving your way through small openings in rocks, now that... that is what I call a hike!

So fun, and I hope to repeat it several times over.  I am already trying to scope out a time when I can do it again.  Here is one more picture just for you to imagine it.  We saw several groups doing things like this so we could go under their legs to pass.  Again, don't know these people, but you can imagine that is the kind of group we might have seen.  If I get some actual photos, I will replace these.

The Rule of a Year

For some reason, even having lived in Utah before, the rule of a year remains true.  What is the rule of a year? It takes a year to stop longing for your previous community and start feeling connected to your new one.

I suppose because Santa Barbara was so lovely and we lived there for longer than we have lived anywhere else the year was more like 15 months before I finally let go.  But it happened, the last two weeks demarcating the end of my transition into this community.

Four key events occurred that have helped me with this transition:

• Starting school has provided me with a new community among my fellow classmates with whom I will be spending the next year or so
• We had a new family move into our neighborhood/church and for some reason I thought to myself Hey! We can officially welcome new people now and not BE the new people.  The new family has their children in Spanish immersion and when we eventually bribe them to come over with a meal, I feel like we can have some friends in the cause.
• I finally made a good work transition (I moved teams about 6 months ago but finally had to let go last week in Napa when both teams were meeting at the same time and I very clearly had to physically go to another location for my new team which caused a deep sense of loss but finally some exclusive focus on my new work) which means LESS travel finally.  Like maybe even 30-40% of what I have been doing
• I was called to be a counselor in YW in my ward.  For those who don't know what that means, I will be working with 12-18 year-old girls during the young women's portion of church on Sundays and one night a week, my specific focus will be 12-13 year olds.  The president and other counselor are both working moms with husbands who have provided primary care-giving in the home, very different from what I would describe as your typical situation.  I am excited both about the opportunity to work with these young women and the leaders themselves.  It will be an additional time commitment but part of our religious belief is that when you volunteer your time to help others, you are giving a blessing of additional energy and spiritual support which I have felt for myself at other times in my life.

The combination of these four factors, culminating with the calling yesterday, has finally secured a sense of home for me in Utah.  Now I just have to hope and pray Steve doesn't get a job in Oklahoma or some other random location to pull me away from my new home.

Mother's Day Hopes

Bridget asked me what I wanted for Mother's Day and I gave the standard answer:

I want everyone to get along and be nice to each other, and our home to be filled with peace, love, and harmony.

The response:

We can't give you that, what do you want us to buy for you?

Junior High Humor

Dear, _______  Thank you for serving our country in the wars we are in. I am writing this to you because my teacher, your sister, assigned me to write this letter to you. What war are you serving in, Afghanistan or Iraq? I’ve heard that no one can send you any packages/gifts because otherwise your whole group gets punished. Are you already in the war or are you just training? If you’re just training then how soon will you be in the war? I’m sorry I am asking all these questions but all my teacher told me was that you were a soldier or were about to be one and that it was pretty tiring or hard. Hopefully you made some friends there otherwise I would feel bad for you because I probably wouldn’t last a day with all that training and without any good friends. You’re probably lucky I typed this because otherwise you probably couldn’t read my handwriting and would have a lot less words to read. By the way I’m in seventh grade and am at xx jr high school. You probably knew that I lived in Utah because most of your family lives here and to you it wouldn’t seem that your sister would leave Utah to get a job. Anyways my name is Casey and i’m probably the awesomest person that will ever write you a letter and you should feel bad for the other people who write you letters because whenever you see mine you’ll just think mine’s too cool for theirs’. I’m sorry that I am kind of bringing up random topics but I have to feel up my page for this assignment and it’s hard to think of stuff when your teacher doesn’t tell you much about the person you’re writing to. So, thank you for everything you’re doing right now by serving the best country in the world(you know the one, America) because we should win every war because we’ve have only lost one war and that’s because Vietnam are cheaters. I bet just having you, just one single person, will change the war because I bet you’re the best person and we would lose without you. That’s probably the reason we lost the Vietnam War, because they didn’t have you in it. I bet if I met you in person you would be cool because you’re sister is. Also I am not even going to know your name until a couple days because my teacher didn’t even tell me yet. That means your name after “Dear,” is going to be written like the day I send this letter. Even though this is the best letter ever you’re probably wasting your time reading this because you have other things to do and even the best things aren’t perfect. By the way those last five words are a pretty good lesson for life and on not being optimistic. But now is a good time to be optimistic because you are doing your duty in serving this war. I don’t feel bad that we can’t send packages to you because even if someone could send cookies to you or something they would probably become melted and gross. But of course you could handle that because you’re in the military and super macho. Oh yeah when you reply any other kids don’t forget to say sorry that mine is better than theirs. You probably think this letter is pathetic because I should be more serious and the whole reason I sent you this letter is because I should be thankful for you serving our country but I said it twice and if you knew me well you would think that that is pretty good because I’m not the nicest person I know. I’m really hoping you’re one of those guys who has a sense of humor otherwise I might not like you because humor and talking are my life. Please don’t get offended that I might not like you and that would be because you wouldn’t have a sense of humor but as you would know that people have their ways. Oh yes I’m almost done with this letter, you should forget that this is the best letter ever and I bet you’re as excited as me that this is over because you probably hated this. In the end  thank you for serving me, you and your family because this is America. (that was corny)      Sincerely, your half friend Casey P.S I ran out of room P.P.S Reply Please.

The Decision Matrix

I am trapped in the matrix of decision-making.

Now that I am a bit older, I care more about my health, and we have a tad more disposable income than previously experienced (well, until next week when we pay tuition for my Master's Program) my life's decisions have gotten more complicated.

There was a time when this was enough:

But those days are over.  When was the last time any of us actually bought Suave?

Right.

So I have decided that as I have aged the thought process that goes into even the smallest decisions for buying hair care, skin care, food, and clothing has evolved to the point that I can rarely feel good about buying much of anything.  But I am going to write this post to liberate myself and anyone else out there who feels constantly guilty about one of the following criteria:

--Affordability (do I have enough money for this thing?)
--Functionality (does it actually work?)
--Health (is it good for me?)
--Joy (do I like this thing?)
--Stewardship (is it good for the planet?)
--Humanity (were any humans hurt in the processing or packaging of this item?)


I have realized that I am not going to make all of those things happen in a single item, so what I am going to do is require myself to only think about THREE of these things at a time.

For example, one of my favorite products, something I buy weekly:

Let's analyze this by my old guilt:

Do I have enough money to buy this thing? YES

Does it work? YES (I feel good when I eat it)

Is it good for me? Complication. Stress. Yes, sort of, but it is not organic so is it kind of not good for me?

Do I like this thing? YES

Is it good for the planet? Complication. Stress. Yes, if it is locally grown but no if it is shipped. And if it is local, is organic? If it was local and organic, was it grown on a sustainable farm? If no, than it is not good for the planet.

Were any humans hurt in the processing or packaging? Don't know. There was no fair trade label, how do I discover this information?


Do I buy this thing?  Um.  So... we have three YES answers but in the old guilt, I have to feel bad about it not being organic, not being locally grown on a sustainable farm, and not knowing the labor practices of the farm from whence it hailed.  And I have to look something up on my phone while shopping, thereby slowing me down and making me question whether the other items in my cart are worth equal effort.

So let's try this again with the new matrix and a different item:

Can I *afford this thing?  YES
Does it work?  YES
Is it good for me? YES

Should I buy it?  YES.  I don't need to discover its origin or if it is environmentally friendly because I have already answered three questions in the affirmative.  

Feeling better?

Not me.  I still feel guilty.

So for all you libertarians out there, wouldn't it be nice if the government just limited all the non-environmentally friendly, non-humanitarian products?  My life would be so much easier. 

Happy shopping.


*Disclaimer:  My definition of affordability is different from my husband who would claim that this shampoo is not affordable.

Various kidlets

First, a detailed description of Meg's potty routine:



Second, a sample of the constant soundtrack that is my tweener son. 

In Which I Fight the Law and the Law Wins

I believe in being secure.  To be honest, I would probably volunteer to get a little tracking chip or device so that I don't have to sign papers anymore, I got no problem with that.

Because let's be truthful:  there are no secrets from Big Brother.

I was pulled over today for speeding for which I was granted a violation for going 29 mph.  My car goes 28 without even pushing on the gas, but that is a tale for another time.  And I got a warning from the police for:

• Failing to possess my license
• Failing to present my registration card
• And failure to present my insurance

Are these things crimes?  Yes, technically.

But WHY are they crimes exactly?

Because when the officer typed in my name, he had access to anything he wanted including my picture.  He knows I have paid my registration, he knows I have paid my insurance and in fact knows the date I moved to Utah and that I don't possess a Utah license (which he claims I was supposed to have obtained 60 days after taking up residence though the previous officer who pulled me over last year said that it didn't matter.)  Had I had those items would it have saved him time?  No!  Because he would have looked anyway to verify. 

As part of this rant, tet me tell you another tale, one that may strike fear into the hearts of you conspiracy theorist libertarian types:

I forgot my ID last flight to New York.  It was the first time in five years that I have forgotten my identification, I had left it at home in my wallet and as I was not driving (ahem, I clearly wouldn't drive without having it with me) and cooked chicken for 80 people hours before my flight I was distracted and forgot about it.

You may be wondering to yourself, how did you board the plane?? How did they let you fly to a city still haunted by the memory of terrorists?

How indeed. 

Lee:  (sheepishly to TSA officer)  Alas I have forgotten my DL.

TSA:  Ah.  Do you have a Costco card?

Lee:  Shoot, I usually carry that in the event I can get a 50-lb bag of flour on my trips but I have left it at home with my DL.

TSA:  Any other ID? 

Lee:  This health insurance card that belongs to my 7-year old and is misspelled.

TSA:  hmm.  What else?

Lee:  Ohh!  My Platinum Level Frequent Flyer Card

TSA:  Uh.Uh.

Lee:  Oh no!  What do we do now.

TSA:  Okay I am going to call a guy, he is going to ask you a series of questions and you just answer them. 

Lee:  Great!!

TSA questions (I am not giving answers, I don't need you people pretending to be me): 
Name anyone who lives with you.
What is that person's birthday?
What is the land line associated with your address?
Name a previous residence.
What are the last 4 digits of your social security?

Lee:  (Uh... uhh..... sweating, is Steve's birthday the 29th or 30th?  Wait, was that my dad's?)  Answering them all correctly.

TSA:   Okay, here is a piece of paper saying you are who you say you are.

Lee:  Ever so grateful, really for real! 

I was grateful.  And thankful that I didn't miss my flight.  I so appreciate the exception.

But you can see why I don't feel really guilty that I didn't have some piece of paper in my car when the government knows everything about me.  Really, more than I know perhaps.

In Spain people are afraid of a National Police State because of their history with Franco.  In Germany they live in fear of a dictator.  In the United States, though, we trust.  We trust our government and we don't really care if they know every dirty little secret about us and in fact write laws demanding personal information for the most basic applications.  We have no reason to believe our own government is out to get us so we don't say "hey, I am not giving you my annual income so you can give my kids free lunch!" We don't say "I am not filling out that information on my tax form!"

So why, WHY pretend like the government doesn't know everything about me?  Why warn me that I am not holding up some copied piece of paper that shows them what they know already?

But I do not fear abuse, the government is not organized or competent enough to launch any kind of large-scale conspiracy. 

I dream of a future in which a police officer doesn't bother to pull me over because he has waved a wand as I drove by and he knows that I have four children who wear seatbelts, I obey the law in general and I am running 1 minute late for school.  He knows the reason I don't have the required paperwork in my car is because it is sitting at home in a file called "to put in car."

And he spends his time hunting down the REAL criminals.
 

Mater Abscondita

In honor of the late Dr. Seuss and the celebration of his birthday this month, a friend of mine posted an article about the Cat in the Hat and the secret underlying theme of mater abscondita.

What is mater abscondita?  In the words of the immortal Black Adder, she, sir, is me.

Mater abscondita= the mater hath taken off.

My travel over time has led me, and I think others too,  to question my ability to commit to various branches of my life: my marriage, my children, my friends, my religious life (though never my work).

But unlike the mother in the Seuss tale, I am not leaving my children with a fish but with their father.  As a very kind friend pointed out to me yesterday, 'tis a great gift that Steve is able to be involved so intricately in the day-to-day life of the kids.  He has attended every parent teacher conference of the last 5 years, he knows the clothing and shoe size of every child, he knows what they eat in their lunch (and whether they like it) and he has never missed a performance of any kind.  Would that be the case if I were running the show?

And in the back of my mind I wonder if my children would actually be worse off if I were mater praesentis?  Would I be angrier, less attentive, and more easily frustrated?  Is my frequent absence  actually a secret boon to my children?  Am I saving them thousands of dollars in therapy by only criticizing them 20 days a month instead of 30?

But this is the one thing I have in common with mothers who are home every night, lovingly putting their children to bed:  guilt.  So while I can question my absence or my presence and its affects on my children, I know that this internal dialogue is not radically different from other women who question their own priorities and failings. 

After all, the mother in the story could be just as easily going out to self-indulge as she could be saving the world.

. 

Life changing lipstick

This stuff stays on all day, after eating, drinking, and running intense meetings. In the morning? Still there. Pretty incredible.

Now I don't have to worry about looking dead.

Cumpleaños de Lee

I had a birthday last week.

In keeping with my mother's belief that I was born with a happy gene, I will make my annual accounting here with a positive spin:

--Own property.  It is still standing and collecting rent.

--4 children and holding.  Children who I increasingly enjoy.

--Gray hairs few and far between, current hair color is au naturale.

--Enviable marriage.  Prefer to spend all free evenings with my husband and periodically become emotional thinking about how empty my life would be without him (usually during a country song or a cheesy romance). 

--Job that still cries out my name.

--Body is holding steady and taking care of me in spite of how I woefully abuse it by exposing it to hundreds of thousands of miles of x-ray exposure in an airplane.

--Live in an era of instant gratification of information so I can solve all of my problems through Google.  Thank you, thank you, thank you Google.

--Hundreds of acquaintances who care for me.

--Dozens of friends who love me.

--Belong to a religious community that gives me a deep sense of identity and purpose.

Not bad 37.  Let's keep on keeping on.

Pinterest Dichotomies

Okay so I know you all know.  But I just want to highlight for everyone the guilt I feel at BOTH wanting to eat better and be a great baker/mother/food nurturer.

Thanks Pinterest.

Lie to Me

Secrets, secrets
Are no fun

Secrets, secrets
Hurt someone


When I was in college my best friend had a great line about confidentiality:  when people would say to her "If I tell you something, do you promise not to tell anyone?" she would respond "No, I can't promise that, sorry."   I would be interested in what percentage of people told her anyway.

She was kidding (kind of) it but there is something very refreshing about the idea that someone is hesitant to take responsibility for harboring a secret, making you think about what you are asking of someone when you ask them to "promise?"  It is a burden, it often forces people to lie, and is difficult to manage for those who value honesty and transparency.

In my adult life, particularly professionally, there are times where an individual may confide in me and it places me in a tough position in which I feel that weight placed upon my shoulders.  I feel like I need a line like my friend to say "Are you sure you want to tell me?" without sounding untrustworthy.

There are times where the law requires you to keep something secret, something involving employment or respecting the privacy of individuals (which makes it difficult to believe that politicians aren't lying given that they are law bound). 

I don't like secrets in any form because I don't like the game of pretending like I don't know something and people dropping general hints at me until we both discover we know the same thing and suddenly the floodgates open and more secrets are poured into my wee brain.

I am finally giving in to adulthood in which I understand the weight and consequence of revealing information and I know that the more I am involved in the inner-workings of the system, education or otherwise, the more I will know about the people and events behind the scenes.  I am working on a poker face, creating internal lines in my thoughts between those things that merely inform my thinking vs. those that can actually be shared with others, and in general treating everyone I meet as a patient who requires my discretion while the diagnosis is working its way to the public ear.

The teenage me would have loved the opportunity to be a bucket for the slop of humanity but the adult me has grown out of such things and sees it not as an opportunity to collect but a curse of knowledge.

Any suggestions on how to manage such situations?

Authentic Dining Experiences

In my opinion, there are two kinds of people in this world:  those who will pay for a $100 dinner, and those who will not.

You know which group you fit with--I am not talking about variables like "well, if I had a spare $100 floating around on the ground" or "if someone else paid for it" I am talking about the general concept of your willingness to spend money on your meal.

If you don't know which group to which I belong, you do not know me as well as you thought.


*This week I was in New York and ate dinner at Da Umberto in Manhattan.  For those who have not eaten at a really high quality restaurant, there is no point in even trying to imagine it.  What was wonderful about this particular place was not just the food, which I will get into in a minute, but the ambiance. 

I am pretty certain that 100% of the wait staff were genuine Italians.  The accents were thick, sing-songy, and the rolling of the Rs was like watching a broadway theater production.  I was riveted by the pronunciation of every last offering from the "For the ah especial this evening, we have the ah... rrrrrisoootto with the ah, butternaut esquash" to the "oh maybe you like a combo of the feeg and estrawberry gelaaaato?" to the "no, it no have the pancetta, it have the prosciutto." Some people do not want a belabored dissertation for dinner but as for me and mine? When it has the accent and beautiful descriptions, it is an audible treat.

It doesn't hurt that in general, the swarthy Italian waiters look you straight in the eye as they are pouring more water.

We had some of everything and perhaps part of the reason why these meals are so much money is that the waiters make the food sound so tempting that you won't say no to tacking on something here and there.  Something like, ah, thees?

My favorite was the sun-dried tomato ravioli with the goat cheese and some herb or other but it was almost a tie with the fried baby artichokes and the pancetta-wrapped chicken breast with pecorino cheese.  Our table held a collective moment of silence in honor of the great flavor.  And of course a chocolate mousse for dessert.

It was a tremendous memory and much more valuable to me than any concert or play.  Because for me, my deepest connections are with the food I eat and the people I am with.  As my mother aptly noted, "Lee Ann, I eat to live while you live to eat."

Amen, mamma mia.

*Disclaimer:  My work pays for my meals when I travel but if we go over a reasonable amount which is very rare, we pitch in our own money and in the story above and others like it, my colleagues and I put up our own money to make up the difference so that we are not using sacred education dollars for my personal indulgences.

Aspirations

As you may know, I am undereducated for the company I keep and the work that I do.  I have a BA and I had a teaching license for the state of California that expired when we moved from Sacramento to Santa Barbara.  I let it expire for a handful of reasons, the top reason being that my job transition went something like this:

July of 2007

• Plan pioneering graduation ceremony, scholarship and senior awards ceremony for first seniors of school
• Hold graduation ceremony on Friday
• Take group of students to Europe, leave on Sunday
• Return from trip on Tuesday of following week
• Start new job Wednesday (the next day) in Napa for a week 
• Pack up and clean our house to ready it for sale (ha!)
• Move to Santa Barbara

In there somewhere was me needing to get my license cleared and renewed.  It would have been a  good idea but starting a new job, moving out of the area, trying to sell our house, and having Steve start grad school all made the license bit seem unimportant.  And UNpossible.

Now after 5 years of national reform work, I look around and see that no only do I NOT have a teaching license, but most everyone I work with has an administrative license and Master's Degree. 

It is time for me to go back to school.  So I met with a woman at the Educational Leadership program at BYU and I got really excited about applying to their program for a Master's Degree in education.  Yay! 

It is also preparation for administrative license (Steve has proclaimed that me as a principal is "pretty much his biggest nightmare" so that part is less appealing to some members of the family) which will make me (pending getting in and being able to complete the program) eligible for the administrative job market right around the time Steve goes on the job market.

To be honest I have the perfect job.  I love the work I do, I have tremendous co-workers, and there is something invigorating and stirring about the national landscape in education that makes working in one school seem unappealing.  But the travel is hard as my children get older, so perhaps one day I can find a way to do both the local work and stay connected to national work, who knows?

For now, I am simply working to get accepted into this program and I have a couple of black holes in my application that is stressing me out:

1) I can't get the state of Utah to recognize my teaching background.  They said that five years in California is all fine and dandy but I have to prove I can teach here by getting a license here and teaching for a year.  I can imagine quitting work and moving to take on a leadership position in a community school or district, but taking Utah beginning teacher's salary?  I can't even fathom what that would be like.  So while I can still apply to the program at BYU, it makes me a less appealing candidate.

2) I bombed the math portion of the GRE.  I will admit I did not study aggressively given that I decided to take the test in December and had three weeks of prep time, including the 2 weeks my children were on break.  So focusing several minutes of my time on questions like "If B is the midsection between A and C, is AC and x>0, which of the following quantities is larger: x or ACDC?" was more than my poor pea brain could handle.  I scored somewhere around the 30th percentile, yikes!! That means 70% of the people who take that test outscore me.  Steve pointed out that I did help another person in there by bumping up their score by a small portion so that gives me some comfort at least.  I did get the 84% for verbal so I am hoping that they still let me in the program given that my ability to solve for x is pretty pathetic.

The deadline for application is February 15th, the day after I turn 37.  I hope that I don't get rejected too quickly so I can enjoy my late 30s as much as possible.  I have everything completed now other than a letter explaining why I don't have a license. 

Wish me luck!