forget the european mullet

Although this happened a few months back, it still fills me with pride that Gracie produced such a work of art on Ellie.  Even with all of my training, I don't know if I could reproduce this.  I mean, look at that disconnection.  

                                           

So if you want to ensure a great haircut, look for a stylist who uses crayola scissors.  And consider throwing on your bathing suit for the occasion.

I cried when I read this. Cried because even though the logistics of changing a diaper and knowing how to clean up a crib full of throw-up like what greeted me this morning, are much easier than when I was new to it all, the emotional adjustment that accompanies a complete change in one's identity is still ongoing for me. There are days when I long to feel that feigned importance of having classes to attend and a job to report to. When, simply put, everything in my life revolved around...me. And since "me" is not a very high maintenance person, not much energy was expended in keeping care of myself :) I could slide by with grocery shopping maybe a couple times a month, and live off oatmeal and peanut butter. I could put off doing laundry for as long as I dared. I could be with myself and my own thoughts without being interrupted. Yes, I know that you're probably thinking that not much has changed. And that is part of the problem, I will admit.

But what has changed is the presence of JPEG in my life. Oh how I love them. And maybe that is the other reason why I cried. Because try as I might to take mental photographs of every little moment that fills me with wonder, I know these days are fleeting. That Phineas will soon be running instead of displaying his tentative bow-legged waddle. That Ellie will soon be proficient at pronouncing "tr" instead of substituting the sound with an "f" (although, that will be less of a shock to my ears when she relentlessly yells at me to look at the "truck"). And that Gracie will not constantly be at my side gifting complements to every stranger she sees; the very compliments that I think of but have lost the child-like purity and fearlessness to voice. And even our days of living on love, with absolutely no money, might one day be a thing of the past.

And so the next time I bemoan to Jacob that my youthfulness and prime of life is wasting away in this basement apartment of ours, I will stop. Because when I am completely honest with myself, I know now that I really didn't have anything of huge importance to do before all this. I think I thought I did. And it was easy to convince myself that I was good at whatever I was doing. But now I'm engulfed in the real thing. I am not just pretending to be someone important anymore. And sometimes this scares me. But most of the time it has me laughing, crying, teaching, playing, sometimes cleaning, but mostly loving.

A little frustration with my alma mater

This morning I debated whether or not to drive south to BYU, or “Bye-Yoo” as Ellie has dubbed it. After Jacob’s clarification that the 30 day grace period to renew our vehicle’s registration was up at the end of December, and not at the end of Januray as I had thought, I felt like this knowledge would somehow jinx me and I would get pulled over. I had unknowingly been driving around illegally for half a month with no problem, but it’s interesting how our perspective always changes when innocence is lost. Since I had already promised the girls a fun excursion with the cousins, I felt like I had no choice but to risk driving with expired stickers.

I pulled into the visitor’s parking lot with, characteristically, not a moment to spare. The girls were prepped and ready with the instructions “okay, the second I park the car, unbuckle, get out the car, and then we run, and I mean run to the Planetarium to make the star show!” Everything was going great until I hopped out of the car and nearly ran into the campus police officer who, for a split second, I had considered not parking right in front of. But assuming that my registration stickers were of no concern to a University, I had decided to take advantage of the great parking spot that would shorten our run by a few hundred yards.

Oh how I’ve missed BYU policemen. Next to providing a wonderful “police beat” reading each week in the university paper, they always make sure that no infraction too small goes unnoticed. But once again, I reiterate, why should a campus police officer be concerned with my registration? But I’m so glad that I gave him a sense of purpose today and that he was able to issue me a fun “fix-it-ticket” (looks like they’ve been implementing some creative citation options since last time I spoke with them) where I have two weeks to get my problem fixed with only a small fine. And he delayed me by that moment that I did not have to spare, and hence we missed the much-anticipated star gazing show.

But looking on the bright side, I won’t feel guilty this year for not donating to my alma mater. I’ll count this as my contribution.