Name Dropping and a Princess' Progress

Actually, I'm not going to drop any names (cheers from the audience) because I don't think princesses do that sort of thing, and the point of this post is to show just how princessy I'm getting to be.

Remember on the princess post, I mentioned in the footnotes that I once made a silly sarcastic remark to an important church authority that I've been feeling bad about ever since? Well, we had the opportunity to meet with one again, and I thought this would be a great chance for me to test how much I've improved.

We met in the Mission Home with just a total of 5 couples. It was a cozy little group. We had a little updating/counsel giving session while dinner was being prepared. This man (the visiting one) stood up when we came in and gave me his chair. The only stuffed armchair in the room. The one that was placed next to where his wife was sitting. And he sat on a dining chair by Greg. I tried to protest a little, but I hate being too annoying and refuseful about stuff like that, so I finally just sat down, in hopes of not making a scene. Then I felt a little uncomfortable for the entire 20-30 minutes before we ate. I mean, I know I'm a princess and all (so are you, remember? Unless, of course, you're a prince) but I sure didn't love sitting on that throne! Whatever. What's done is done, right? Princesses don't dwell.

But guess what? Looking back, I didn't say anything that I'm embarrassed about! Did I say anything sarcastic? Of course I did. I would have felt even sillier if I'd just sat there staring the whole time. And since sarcasm escapes every time I open my mouth, there it was. But it was the okay kind. I'm pleased about that. I done good.
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And guess what today was?

Cheers and tears. (and starting tomorrow you'll be able to see Evie's eyes in pictures because she's getting new glasses!)

When they came home today, the first thing David told me, which means it was obviously the highlight of his day, was this: "Guess how my English teacher says 'footprints?' 'Feetpreents!'"(with a rolled "r", like in Spanish) Glad to know that he's excited about all the important stuff he's gonna learn.

Prom Hairstyles - Brittany's Prom Hairstyles

Prom season is right here and salons are packed providing young women buying this hair styled for the memorable occasion. With Brittany Snow looks as if it’s gorgeous in a prom dress and beautiful part pony tail for the planet premiere of “Prom Night”. Girls, such is an easy hairstyle to create.

After making a faintly off-center part, clearly brush the hair going back and tie in the back. The hair is left loose and a miniature messy that adds too needed flare. I definitely stink it for a prom hairstyle.

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Technorati Tags: Prom Hairstyles, Brittany's Hairstyles, Ponytail Hairstyles

He's Got My Back

If the title of this post is conjuring up images in your head of Greg rescuing me from a crowd of dangerous men in whose vicinity I was practicing my new found eyelash fluttering skills which were only meant to be seen by Greg, across the table of our white clothed, candlelit table in the expensive Viennese restaurant in which we were dining, when they approached our table to flirt back in their own crude way, then please, close you're eyes and imagine away (and add in all sorts of heroic acts and clever retorts by my dearly beloved, 'cause he really is chivalrous like that) and join us back here at this post when you're ready for a change of subject, as that never actually happened and is not what this post is about.
please insert three to four periods in the proceeding paragraph if you don't approve of my marathon run-on sentence.
While I'm sure that would make for a much more engrossing post, it is not the tale I have to tell. MY tale is about the second most captivating thing I could write about: health issues! Now that I've got your attention, let's begin.

Just after Greg and I were married, I was feeling so independent and grown up, running my own household, having someone to "take care of," finding a job to help get my husband through the rest of school etc. While the rest of me was busy with all these adult, responsible activities, my skin was still acting like that of a teenager. I found this to be rude and irritating. I think it should have put forth more of an effort to act mature instead of undermining my adulthood. I had always wanted to go on Accutane and come out with beautiful, amazing skin, but I hadn't had the opportunity. It seemed to me like it was now or never, since you can't be on Accutane if there's any possibility that you may become pregnant. So I saw a dermatologist who agreed that I could begin the six month round (or was it three? It felt like six.) of taking the medication.

Accutane almost immediately cleared up my skin. It also made it so I didn't need to wash my hair every day, for the first time in my life (or at least since I was twelve, before which time my hair was only washed during my weekly bath/shower when my sister and I would shower together and pretend we were under a waterfall and the floral shower curtain was the wildflower covered mountain). But that wasn't all it did for me. It also ruined my back. I started having back pain early on while taking the medication and it continued to get worse and worse. I found I was unable to keep up with all my responsibilities as a mother's helper, but the family I worked for were super nice and relieved me of the dish washing which was my main back breaker, and didn't mind me laying around in between bouts of playing with/feeding the twins. I assumed my back would feel better once I finished my medication. It sort of did.

But mostly it didn't. Since then I have had recurring spells of back pain. Weeks where I could not do some of the very basics of housekeeping. Anything that required you to work with something in front of you i.e. dish washing, laundry hanging and vacuuming. I could only choose one of those things to do each day. It should have been an awesome excuse not to clean, but it was really just a pain, in every sense of the word. In short I'm slightly crippled. Unfortunately I'm afraid I probably will be forever. Oh, I have gone for months without any problems at all, but I have also had entire months where I couldn't sleep past 4 am because the pain was so bad. (aren't you enjoying this Tour of Lisa's Health Issues? FUN!)

Now for the part where Greg's got my back. Our backyard when we moved in was a wasteland of thick weeds. Greg spent days out pulling those weeds. When it was about half finished we decided to hire a neighborhood kid to finish it for us, because Greg's back wasn't handling it all that well. Fast forward a month to where he starts to mention once in a while that his back really hurts (he never mentions if anything hurts). A week later he's walking like an old man in the morning. Another week and he's walking like an old man all the time. Do you think I cried the next week when I saw him coming up the front stairs with a cane in his hand? Maybe a little.

When he started having problems walking in a position that didn't make him look like a caveman, he went to the doctor. He had some x-rays and even confessed to me that he was worried it might be something serious. Fortunately it doesn't look like anything serious. It's just that now he can't sit down or stand up in under 3 minutes and to get into laying position might take 5, with LOTS of pain, and I can't watch him attempt it because a) he doesn't want me to (duh) and b) it doesn't make me feel all happy and sunshiny. He has been waking up 2 or 3 times a night to get up (5 minute process) and walk around to get his back into sleepable position again.

We've figured out that he has sciatica (it goes all the way down his leg at this point). Apparently it's very likely that it will go away within a few months. He's trying to get lots of exercise, has some funky laser and magnetic therapy, and gets plenty of rest as well (although I still have to force him to let me do things sometimes). The other day I was carrying the groceries upstairs from the car and he was very apologetic that I had to do all the manly duties, besides my regular wifely duties. I told him I didn't mind, and he said, "I now pronounce you man and wife."

I meant to post this on Thursday, but posted about the award instead, and I'm so glad I did, because Greg's back is definitely improving! He hardly uses the cane at all! The last 2 nights he's only been waking up once a night for his little walk. I'm so glad to see that he is feeling so much better! I hope to have a real man as man of the house someday soon!

Now that he's not walking like a Neanderthal anymore, I'm hoping I can get him to stop dragging me around by my hair*.
*He has never actually dragged me around by my hair. I just have a hard time ending my posts sometimes and this time it just seemed right to end it with a lamer-than-usual joke.

An Award! or I Can't Believe I Just Spent 19 Hours Making Links for This Post. I Hate Making Links.

I've been given an award!! A blog award! Becky from On top of the world (or at least really far north) has awarded me THIS:



The first time I ever heard of a blog award was when I read this post by Sue at navel gazing at it's finest. I'm not sure if it was a result of the influence of that post on my infant blogger mind, but I feel almost exactly the same way as she does about them. She also happens to be the one that introduced me and Becky to each other. Well, sort of anyway. She's the one who started up Mormon Mommy Blogs , which is how we found each other. And she's super funny. You should read the "this post" link about the blog awards, and then possibly find yourself reading through a bunch of her other stuff.

Ooops, I keep going on about Sue. What I meant to say is that it's an honor to receive this award, mostly because it was given to me by someone I didn't even know a month ago. And not so much because each person who receives it gives it to as many people as they want. I've decided to share the love with a few blogs I love. I actually love LOADS of blogs, but I'm going to choose some of the first that come to mind as blogs that I'm always excited when they come up on my Google Reader:

H.I.P. (hope is power)- Sarah is one of the people that I became harder and faster friends with than anyone ever. That's 'cause she's awesome. You can see it in her writing. And that she's super intelligent and funny.

Into the Woods- I'm not linkin' because it's a private blog, which is a shame because it's SO awesome. The Woods are just some of my favorite people ever. They're kind, funny, beautiful/handsome (kids too) and just the kind of people you want to have as friends. And their blog is a great reflection of them.

Keepin' Up with the Joneses and Draper Kids - My sisters Anne and Su, and their great blogs about their wonderful families/amazing, smart SUPER cute kids. (And they're the ones who got me into blogging.)

And we'll throw in a couple of people I only just met:

Alison Wonderland -Who is an aspiring writer with real talent (I think). And she seems nice, too. And I really love her blog layout. Sorry if that last one's a shallow reason to give an award, but there it is.

none of your beezwax - Who is just hilarious, and is capable of writing posts even longer than mine that are actually funny all the way through.

Let's leave it at that. Thanks again, Becky! And for those of you whom I've awarded, I promise you will not have bad luck or anything if you don't pass the award on or display the picture prominently on your blog, but you can. Just so you know. (I'm going to put mine at the very bottom of my blog, just so people won't think I'm bragging or anything).

Tell Me Tuesday

How fun is it to come up with my own weekly post ideas! I don't think I'll ever do a Wordless Wednesday or a Soap Opera Sunday etc., because I'm just way too individual for that (or possibly because I don't really know how to search for pictures on the web very efficiently--you may have noticed I haven't posted any pictures from the Internet since my original attempt with the washing machines-- and am not creative enough to type up an interesting soap opera etc.)

Today I would like to address what, to me, is a very important bloggy topic: Blogger comment format. Full page or pop-up?

I know we're not talking public school/private school or mini van/SUV, but this IS an issue that affects me every day. At first I just thought there was only the full page option, and hated it when I would start typing up a comment and realized that I wasn't sure if my response addressed exactly what was said in the post, or only my interpretation of it, or I wanted to quote the post directly, and then I had to go back and make sure I wasn't getting it wrong.
I was so happy when I discovered that there was the option of having your comment page in a pop-up window, so people can refer back to your post while typing up their comment, if necessary. I also like that you can continue to listen to a song on someone's playlist without interruption.

Then there are the cons. I'm a major blog hopper. I love to check out new blogs. When you're in a pop-up comment box, you can't click on the link to a fellow commenter's blog. Or you can, but you can only view it in that tiny box, with no option to open it up. This is annoying. This is very annoying. The only way I know around it is to click on the post title and scroll down past the post itself to the comments listed below and follow the links from there. But that's an extra step or two. I hate extra steps or two.

So I'm asking YOUR opinion. Do you prefer the pop-up comment boxes or the full page? Why? I'm putting it as a poll in my sidebar, if you wouldn't mind voting. And if you have any insights, please leave them in the comments.

Today's post is about a poll, Thursday's will be about a Pole. I'll try to figure out something for Saturday about a pull. . .

I Want to Be a Princess

A few years ago Greg and I were watching some old black and white movie on TCM about this lady who was very homely, backwards and repressed and for some reason ends up on a cruise and meets a guy and is somehow transformed into this beautiful, wonderful lady. That is seriously all I can remember about the movie, except for one strong impression I had while watching it.

After the lady came back from her cruise she had a party. She wore a simple but beautiful, floor length, full skirted black dress (which means it could have been charcoal or indigo or emerald or burgundy etc.) that swooshed like a fairy tail as she glided to the door to let in her guests. Her hair was pulled up in a lovely bunch at the back of her head, revealing her smooth, powdered face with it's soft, feminine features. Her voice was like a song. She smiled so kindly upon all her guests and made certain that they all felt comfortable. And as she made her way around the room, the pleasing rustle of her dress could be heard. Oh yeah, I already mentioned the swooshy dress.

For days after watching this movie I kept thinking about how lovely and feminine this woman was, and how feminine women in general were in those days. I started realizing how much I wish that I could be more like that. I suppose, to be realistic, I couldn't really wear dresses like that around our house. If I did, rather than that soothing woosh, you would be more likely to hear tearing as it snagged on the antennae of some remote control car, or swearing* when the baby yanked on it or wiped his salty, oily, crackery hands on it (the swearing wouldn't be coming from the baby. Or the dress). Our house is a great size for us and I love it, but it's not a palace and doesn't have rooms large enough that they can be glided across all gracefully like in that movie. So the dress and its accompanying sounds/motions are out.

We all know that there will be NO pulling of hair into lovely bunches for me for at least a few years. And my face is what it is. My kids love to comment on how very looooong and thin my face is, and I myself am aware of the crook at the bridge of my nose. Not exactly soft features, but they're the ones I came with so I won't fret over how they're keeping me from being my self proclaimed ideal. Let's move on to the things I CAN (or should be able to) change.

I can smile. I can smile and flutter my eyelashes a little bit more than is actually needed for the moistening of my eyeballs. I think if I don't exaggerate this too much it might actually look natural, like I really am just kind of lovely like that. I'm not quite sure what to do about the voice. Mine doesn't naturally sound like a song, or the babbling of a brook or whatever it's supposed to, despite David's flattery on that mom tag. I wonder if I could just speak in a slightly higher pitch. I might sound a bit more like Cinderella that way.

On to the really difficult part: personality. Now, before I start, so everyone knows, I like me. I think I'm fine. Still, I think I come across a bit more abrasive than I'd like. There are people I know who are the embodiment of kindness. You can always count on them to say something that makes the people around them feel comfortable and happy with themselves at the same time that they feel this person's kindness and grace. I love this. It's how I would like to be. Unfortunately, there's this little thing called sarcasm. Sarcasm just does NOT make girls seem ladylike. Unfortunately sarcasm and I seem to have been stuck together with some mystery super glue because I am unable to break away from it. And actually, now that I'm typing this, I think that is the main thing that I kind of wish I could swap. Sarcasm for sweetness. Unfortunately, I don't think I can. But I guess I can try to smooth down the rough edges of my sense of humor**.

I recognize that in our day it may be considered a bit sexist to talk about women's femininity and about how we are "the gentler sex," but I personally think that it's a good thing, and I would like to be gentler, if I could. I loved Evie's Primary teacher at church who would use the word "ladylike" when talking about how the girls were (or weren't) sitting or behaving. I loved it and started using the word myself, with her. Around this time 2 year-old David started running around the house calling, "Lady-Lite! Lady-Lite!" all the time.

This also reminds me of my mother's approach with her granddaughters. She has discussed with them the idea that God is our king (think Kingdom of God). We also know that we are His children. Daughter's of kings are princesses. That makes us all what? Princesses! Little girls like princesses. They want to be princesses. They know that princesses behave like ladies and it's a great motivator to young girls to remind them to "be like a princess." It's even greater when they realize that they actually ARE princesses and that our Father has taught us how to do it, with the help of a Prince.

So this is the kind of princess I want to be. The kind that is good, kind and true, who tries to follow the King's wishes and be gracious and loving and sweet to others. I also wouldn't mind being the kind that is pretty and graceful and has a swooshy dress (in charcoal, indigo, emerald or burgundy).

*I put this only for dramatic emphasis. I never swear. Okay, I might swear, but only if the dinner was burning, the phone was ringing, I had a headache and then the baby started tugging on my fancy dress with his yucky hands.
** I remember when I was talking with an important Church authority after a meeting and I said something totally sarcastic like, "Oh you're very something-don't remember what- I'm sure that's a real problem for you!" or something like that. Both he and his wife who was standing nearby laughed and were very kind about it, but I was slightly embarrassed right after I said it, and VERY embarrassed when I thought about it later on. I mean they totally understood that I was kidding, and they fully understood my sense of humor (we had spent some time with them previously) but to some people you just don't make remarks like that. Fortunately they have the kindness and sweetness that I lack and didn't show any surprise, but just made me feel like I was so funny.

Where Do You Keep YOUR Friends?

We used to live in an apartment complex that covered about the amount of ground that two houses would cover, and there were 45 apartments in it (it was 12 stories high). This should have been a haven of children with which our children could be children. Unfortunately there were only a few children in our building of the appropriate age, and our children weren't all that interested in being children with them (we're kind of glad).

Then we moved into this house. One of the first things I didn't like about this place was that it's so spread out around here. There would certainly be even less socialization with neighbors here than in the apartment, if that was possible. If the kids managed to find some other kids their age, we would probably have to walk with them a few blocks anytime they wanted to get together. For the first few wintry months here, though, we were kind of just an island to ourselves.

Then came Summer, and with it friends! LOTS of friends. As in Evie and David have friends coming out of their ears. First it was one boy just down the street. Then they met the grandchildren (2 boys) of the neighbors who live behind us. Then our neighbors in the house that's stuck to us moved in, and they have a boy, too. Then Evie met some (3) girls at the park and they started hanging out and walking around the neighborhood together, a cute little gang of pink and sparkly, pony-tailed chatterboxes. (I asked Evie what they do when they're together and she says, "we mostly just talk." It's a weird day when your kid "mostly just talks" to their friends. Am I really old enough to have kids that age?) Then we met our right-across-the-street neighbors who have a boy and a girl, each 2 years older than their Pawlik counterpart. It seems none of them mind the age disparity and currently these are the friends the kids spend most of their time with. As in, they met about a week ago and have stopped coming home for lunch and have already asked if they can have a sleepover, etc. Unfortunately these guys will be moving back to Spain for the school year in 3 weeks! :(

At dinner the kids were talking about one friend. Greg asked how old he was. They said he was nine. I said, "Wait, I thought you said he was ten?" I loved Evie's explanation. She said, "Well, first he was ten, then he was ten and a half, and now he's nine." Love that. Another of the kid's friends likes to brag about all the awesome grown up stuff he does. He tells them things like how his dad gives him a little beer every day* (he's eight--or so he says...). Or how when no one else is home he smokes. Greg overheard one of these bragging sessions one day and appreciated David's response.
Friend: I just drank 5 cans of Pespi.
David: (half interrupting and saying it all strung together) Yeah. Uh, huh. Wow. Oh really? I don't believe you. Uh huh. That's great.

Whereas I, being away from it all as I am, keep most of my friends in my computer, my kids apparently keep theirs in their heads because why else would they be coming out of their ears? I tried to tell them that friends don't belong in their heads, and couldn't they see that they weren't staying in there very well. Apparently they didn't listen because the friends just keep coming and coming. And not the kind that people usually keep in their heads (imaginary ones). Although, I guess you could say who knows how much of them is real and how much of them really is imaginary (i.e. age, drinking habits, etc.)
*This is, of course possible. I remember a family that I nannied for. The father was a wine connoisseur and would let their barely two year old daughter repeatedly dip her finger in his wine at dinner every night. The mom protested and rolled her eyes just about every single time.