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.