On Grief...

The rest of Conrad's remains arrived last night. The local fire department was on hand to transport him from the plane to the hearse. It was heart-wrenching and touching at the same time.

I have been having a hard time lately wrapping my head around the idea of death. I have been stuck in a mode of grieving that I can't understand. Ever since Conrad was killed, I feel like I've been trying to come to terms with the sorrow that accompanies death. I've watched my sweet friend Ann struggle with loneliness, grief, and anger, and I've continued to feel those same emotions myself. Does it seem strange that I feel lonely in spite of spending every day with my best friend? When I go to sleep at night, I have difficulty sleeping well because I feel like if I'm asleep, I'm not with him. I am literally overwhelmed at the very thought of losing him.

I can clearly see that this is not the best line of thinking. I've talked to some friends about it, and I was surprised at how many of them worry about losing a spouse or a child more often than they consider "normal." This did make me feel a little better. Some also suggested maybe I was feeling a type of survivor's guilt. It is difficult at times to feel comfortable with my own happiness when I see my friend so devastated.

I dusted off my copy of C.S. Lewis's "A Grief Observed". If you're not familiar, after his wife passed away from cancer, he went through an intense cycle of grief, anger at God, and finally, a reawakening as to God's role in death. One of my favorite quotes is found in this work. He says,

"You never know how much you really believe anything until its truth or falsehood becomes a matter of life and death to you. It is easy to say you believe a rope to be

strong and sound

as long as you are merely using it to cord a box. But suppose you had to hang by that rope over a precipice. Wouldn't you then first discover how much you really trusted it?

Only a real risk tests the reality of belief."

I think that's what this comes down to for me. I have always held to the doctrine of life after death. And I have always been taught that this eternally-binding principle can bring us comfort and peace in a time of loss. Using that doctrine to cord a box has been comfortable to me for the better part of 37 years. Suddenly, however, I find myself hanging over a precipice. And my rope seems to be an unsteady lifeline. I don't doubt the validity of Heaven, of God or of His love, but I seem to be struggling with the reality of finding peace throughout grief. I understand it's a process, and I may not be very far along just yet.

It is indeed a risk to believe that if I were to lose my husband, God could provide any semblance of peace for me; and truly this tragedy is testing the reality of my belief. Faith, however, is the sustaining force of my cord at this point. I am relying on this cord in the hope that when all is said and done, this changing reality of my ideas will prove only to strengthen the rope with which I must both bind my beliefs and hang my challenges .

Tunesday: You Are

It's been awhile. I actually forgot about my Tunesdays. Can you believe? I know, the horror. This song came out TODAY, and I have already loved it a million times over. I even made a dvd for my man with a bunch of our pictures set to this song. I owed him an apology, and that seemed like the best way to say it.
I already featured another Charlie Wilson song... remember "There Goes My Baby" in which we watched Snoop display his softer side? Anyway. Uncle Charlie let me know that this was out today (along with a few thousand of his other fans) but I appreciated the personal message, and I downloaded it right away. I added it to my after-hours playlist, and I thought repeatedly today how much I love my husband. Marriage is hard. There may be a few of you out there who find it to be smooth sailing. I do not. But the good stuff is so, so, SO worth the hard stuff. When you find someone who can really be your reason to love, then you got a good thing. Baby... we got a good thing. I love you!!

Enjoy his rich vocals, download this song, and then go love on someone who's given you a reason to love.

If I Could Maybe Be Someone Else... I Might Pick Her.

My friend is awesome. She used to be my roommate in college. She is level-headed, grounded, kind, driven, and insanely creative. She's the kind of person I NEED for a friend, since I can be a bit more type A. Anyway... her name is Dawn. I would post pictures of us from college, but that wouldn't be nice for either of us. Good times, good times... bad photos, bad photos...
She is in the throes of a new goal: run 12 marathons in 12 months. She has been featured on the tv news and in the paper there in her state (UTAH), and I'm super proud of her. Go to her blog
and read about her, and then talk to whoever you know in Utah (you know that you know people...) that would be willing to sponsor her in her efforts. Who owns a sports store? A health food store? A gym? Personal training company? Flip through your mental roladex of peeps and figure out who would be a candidate, and then pass her name and website along. Follow her blog, even if you despise running, so that her numbers go up along with her chances for sponsorship.

Just Some Stuff...

So. We're making progress on the house. Well, we made a lot of progress 2 months ago when my parents were here. Since then, we've kind of stagnated. But still. Progress was made once upon a time...

Like in the man cave. I will say, my man was manly when he included a few Celtics covers in with his beloved Lakers. It was a trade: I'll bring him buffalo wings and cream soda during football games if he hangs Larry Bird up. Excellent.
Oh, and yes, that's a leg lamp. It's Italian.



In the end, we decided not to put Noe and Sam in the same room. The room was too small and the female drama was too big. So this is Noe's room. My mom and I picked out this fabric for the curtains to go with the bedding (the bedding: $149 at Bed, Bath and Beyond. Same set at Ross: $49.00. I know.) Anyway, my super duper handy mother whipped up these adorable curtains. We got the bed at Direct Buy. Get this: The bed retails for $1200. It has drawers on the bottom for clothing, and the whole bottom pulls out for a trundle. We signed up for the free 30 day trial membership, and got the bed for ONE THIRD of that price. I KNOW! I was dying too.
*Perfectionist disclaimer: Pardon the junk on the window sill. And Noe makes her own bed.




Lastly, we had General Conference this weekend. Here is a page from the notes that Noe took:

Frankly, I can clearly see that this is Elder Eyring speaking into the microphone. And do you notice the background? Very accurate. I sort of feel like I'm parenting a prodigy. Of course, I'm not. Not by a really, really long shot. But let's all play along, mmm'kay?

The History Of Rap

I am proud to say I could have done this entire number myself. Who's up for being my sidekick??

Good Stuff

This is all the news around here today. Of course I cried like a baby just watching the clip. Why is it so rare to find kids that are good-hearted anymore? In the monotonously tiring world of self-centered, self-absorbed kids that seem to surround me, this is refreshing and worth passing on. Ike Ditzenberger has Down Syndrome. He's also got the ball...

Sexy as a Sasquatch

So I've been thinking a bit. Mostly about shaving my legs. I have a few things to share.

First of all, can we discuss the discrepancy between an unshaven man and an unshaven woman? I mean, check this picture out:

That guy is sexy, right? The rough, rugged look of whiskers coming through his chiseled jawline? Yummy. Now imagine the reverse:

The rough, rugged look of whiskers coming through her shapely legs? Barbed wire. Steel wool. Nasty. No one wants to even THINK about it, forget experience it. My fabulously sexy husband shaves his head every day. I am less vigilant about my legs. I mean, I'm no Sasquatch, but daily shaves? Ain't happenin. And yet... I am fairly mortified if anyone catches a glimpse of my stubbly legs, while my aforementioned fabulously sexy husband could conceivably skip a day or two and still look... well... fabulously sexy. As a matter of fact, I would daresay that his skipping a day or two would actually enhance his fabulous sexiness.

I feel like there's a conspiracy against women. Let's move on to my 2nd point, shall we? Razors for women, vs. razors for men. For the sake of this frugal and practical woman's debate, we will discuss only disposables. Have you seen what's out there? Check out the men's section, and then compare it to the women's. First of all, they have TWICE as many to choose from. And not only do they have more to choose from, but they have WAY better choices. Observe:

The grandaddy of all razors. The new Gillette Fusion. My man wanted to try this, so I bought it for him. He tried it, and then spent the entire day rubbing his head and singing its praises. "Never had a smoother shave!" "Wow, this may be my closest shave EVER!" "Babe, feel my head! What a shave, huh?" And here's where I make a confession. The next day, standing in the shower staring at my stubbly legs, my gaze was drawn to the Fusion, hanging there on his side of the caddy. I am not even kidding you, the thing said, "Try me, Andrea. Just try me." Of course, I looked over at my baby-blue Venus, checked the fading moisture strip, noticed some stray hairs stuck in the blades, and thought... "Well, I would like to see how close of a shave I could get..." So I did it. Yes, I know. This isn't even something one should confess to their clergyman, far less publicly on their blog. My husband doesn't even know about this little indiscretion yet.

But ya know what? WHAT A SHAVE! When I finished, I looked down and I swear to you I was standing on two sticks of butter. BUTTER, I tell you! I am now going on day 3 since my foray with the Fusion, and I barely have stubble. Can you explain that to me? And where is the women's equivalent of this depilatory machine?

Why is it so much more work for a woman to maintain a certain level of sexiness than it is for a man? Marketing conspiracy theory, that's what I say. All I know is it's kind of a bummer I wasn't born a Sasquatch. Seems like a win-win to me.

Rubbin Me the Wrong Way...

I sent this email to my friend today, and my former massage therapist. As you may know, I get regular massages to help with the laundry list of back problems I have. Yes, it sounds divine, and it is, but I'd gladly give up scoliosis, stenosis, arthritis, herniated discs and hypermobility in exchange for not needing the massage. anyhooo... I've been trying to establish a new provider here. I figured I'd start with physical therapy, so I can also develop a new workout program. Here's what my email said:
so i mentioned to you that my PT is ed asner, right? about 5'5", no neck, 2 chins, very large ears, and probably 64 years old. reeks of old spice. thank you, tricare, for this outstanding referral.
i went in today for my 2nd visit, the one where we're done discussing my history and we get to work. mr. ed asner did a decent job of hooking me up with some core strengthening exercises, and a few good stretches. then ed asner told me we would be doing some soft tissue manipulation. GREAT! it's the only way i can get the insurance company to pay for my massages, which i desperately need. so let's call it soft tissue manipulation and get on with it.
ed asner asks me to lie face down on the freezing cold, rubber-padded table. sure, no problem ed. but i'm fully clothed, and wondering where this is going. ed asner then moves my shirt up... okay, no problem. gotta get to my soft tissue somehow, right? ed asner then UNHOOKS MY BRA. no joke. i was like WHOA THERE, EDDY! back up off a sista! but no, i'm mature, i figure this is just fine. he didn't want me to actually undress, so this is logical. then ed asner puts refrigerated massage cream on my back. "is it cold in here?" ed asks me. "try to relax." relax? sure. no problem. there's an overhead radio in the room, and guess what song starts bumping while ed asner massages me? YEAH... l'il john. oh i'm in the zone now baby. ed asner does not have the hands of a massage therapist. ed asner has the hard, rough, calloused hands of a 64 year old man. they do not feel good on the soft, virgin skin of my back. WE WANT A LADY IN THE STREET BUT A FREAK IN THE BED! thank you, l'il john, for helping me through this awkward moment. ed asner is finished manipulating my soft tissue now, so he hooks my bra back up for me. how's THAT for service! i threw some coins in his tip jar on my way out.

Getting the REAL Story...

So maybe you've read this story by now. I can hardly stand it. This woman calls herself a sports reporter. I use the term loosely. Let's put all the cards on the table right up front, shall we? She's an attractive woman. She has a smoking hot body, she's blond, and she has perfectly straight, white teeth. Her assets are all well stocked, and frankly, we can't hate her because of that.

Here's the thing. If she wants to be a sports reporter, her physical appearance shouldn't really keep her from doing so. But if she wants to be taken seriously, I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say THIS is not the way to accomplish it:

Yeah, she was doing a story on the before and after of a particular GNC supplement, right? Right. Ms. Ines Sainz is the kind of woman that causes even the most secure wife to tighten her grip on her man's arm. (Maybe almost as tight as that tape measure...) I have a lot of respect for legitimate female sports reporters. They are clawing their way through a man's world. They have a passion for sports, and they can hold their own with most men in a serious discussion. I never really feel like Hannah Storm or Cheryl Lewis are slipping players their number on the side. I feel like they are thrilled with the game, and want to tell me all about it in their coverage. In all fairness, I have never heard Ms. Sainz cover a sporting event. But if this is how she shows up dressed for work, I'm guessing her "coverage" is fairly limited.
I'm not saying it's ever okay to sexually harass anyone, for any reason. But I AM saying that if you roll around in crack cocaine for awhile, some junkie somewhere is gonna try and smoke you. If this woman wants to be a respected sports reporter, she should dress in a professional manner, and quit flirting with the players.

Where was the team management when this woman showed up at the locker room? Who bothered to step in and say "hey, we need a dress code here." Better yet, why are reporters, male or female, even allowed inside a locker room? This situation was brewing from the get go, and I feel the management is just as much at fault for allowing her into the locker room as she is for walking her unprofessional self up in there. I can't wait to see where this one goes... and what she wears should she get her day in court. I'm betting for one day, the label says "Liz Claiborne" instead of "Applebottom."

CALLING ALL UTAH HOTTIE WANNABES

My friend Tristan has recently returned to the workforce. She is quite handy with the makeup brush and styling tools. If I lived near her, I would choose her to do my hair. And I would also choose her to do my makeup if I ever had anywhere to go where I wanted to look hot and sexy.

ANYHOOO... if you live in Utah, check her out. Here's her latest promo:



And if you tell her Andrea sent you, she'll throw in a complimentary hug. No kissing though. We want to keep it professional.

Professional Chit Chat.

So. I'm slowly getting started doing some photography in the new town. Sometimes I feel weird when I say "Oh, I'm a photographer! I'd love to do your newborn shots!" Because, really, am I? I'm actually a teacher. That's where I find my professional identity. I feel like I'm more of "someone who happens to own a camera" than an actual, certifiable "photographer." Anyway. I did just that... I met a cute pregnant couple and told them those exact words, and after the baby was born recently, they contacted me... and here's a few of the highlights. Now maybe she'll end up in my 2nd grade class one day, and validate me again professionally.

*And p.s. Yeah, she just gave birth. And could she look any more fantastic? I literally jaw dropped when she walked in the room. If I hadn't seen her pregnant, I wouldn't believe it.

The Not-So-Sweet Side Of It All

So I'm on this quest right now to really understand what the deal is with high fructose corn syrup. Awhile back, I tried cutting it out of our diet. I read that it had a possible effect on behavioral issues. Since we have a child with behavioral issues, I figured it couldn't hurt to give it a try while I researched it.
So I cut out fruit snacks, most candies, any non-100%-juice beverages, and sugar cereals. We already don't drink soda (just in case you didn't know that...) so I figured I had most of the culprits at bay.
HA!
Who knew? I was eating Kellog's Smart Start cereal for breakfast the other day. A nice, healthy, whole-grain cereal. I checked the ingredients, and there was high fructose corn syrup!

The past 2 times I've been grocery shopping, I've checked the ingredients on any pre-packaged foods. You cannot imagine how many foods contain this stuff! It's about as easy to avoid as water.

So why has it become the recent whipping boy of additives? From what I can tell, it seems to be high in calories and low in nutritional content. The Mayo Clinic has this to say: "High-fructose corn syrup is made by changing the sugar (glucose) in cornstarch to fructose — another form of sugar. The end product is a combination of fructose and glucose. Because it extends the shelf life of processed foods and is cheaper than sugar, high-fructose corn syrup has become a popular ingredient in many sodas, fruit-flavored drinks and other processed foods." (Don't expect APA citation here...) These factors cause increased weight gain, which as we all know can lead to obesity, Type 2 diabetes, and heart disease. I also read that this type of sugar stimulates the need for more, which leads to addictive eating behaviors. I can totally get on board with that one. Lastly, I read here that when consumed in excess (which pretty much is a problem for more of us than we realize) your liver cannot handle it, and throws it back into your system, causing intestinal issues. (If you're really interested, you can read the lab report detailing results of a study on HFCS here.)

But what about behavior? I can see where having constant intestinal issues could make you cranky and make it difficult to be good. But I can't seem to find any solid research on HFCS's effects on behavior. I've read that it can contribute to hyperactivity, aggravate ADHD symptoms, or "have effects on behavior." I just can't seem to find any solid research explaining how and why. I mean, the research is there on the obesity aspect. And I stand behind that 100%. But does anybody have any information on HFCS's link to to behavior issues??? Have you tried naturalizing yours or your family's diet at all? I'm not talking nutritarian here (sorry, Robin!). Just a general stab at cutting unnecessary junk out of your menu... primarily high fructose corn syrup. Hook a sista up with some info...

A Real Thriller

So. I must say again that living in a non-boondocky location totally has its perks. People actually come here! I've lived in some really out-of-the-way towns over the past several years, and the only time I saw friends is when I travelled. Now, people like to come here, and while I pretend it's just to see me, I know it's to see all the great things this area has to offer. WhatEVA.

So here's Carolyn. She and I taught together last year, and she is WICKED FUN! I don't think I have ever enjoyed a year of employment as much as I did last year. And she was a huge part of that.

We caught this really neat laser show. It was all Michael Jackson music. I was so proud of my kids who knew all the MJ songs they played. What can I say? It doesn't take much to make this mama happy. But I can see why acid-trippers love these things. I mean, I was completely sober and I had surreal experiences. Can you imagine hallucinogenics at something like this? Straight crazy. Anyway, snapped a few slow-speed shots during the show, and I really loved how they turned out. Matter o'fact, I loved this one enough to try out my new photographer's watermark on it. Whattaya think?

We also went to this great big butterfly garden. There were butterflies flying all over the place, and you could get right up on them and check them out. Here's Keola being a bit freaked out that one just flew up in his face:

This is Carolyn's daughter, Seneca. She and Carolyn watched the kids for us when we have had to travel out of town in the past. My kids beg for them. Literally.

It was a ton of fun, and made me feel less sad about leaving such a great friend behind. So who's next? Come see us!! Good times.

Tribute

I asked my friend Ann if she minded me posting this as a tribute to Conrad. She gave me her permission to do so, and I wanted to pass it along as a way of honoring his sacrifice. Please remember to keep our soldiers and their families in your prayers, as well as the leaders of our country.

In Loving Memory of "Staff Sgt. Conrad Mora” United States Army from Chris Angeles on Vimeo.

Curses! Foiled Again!

So we went to the coast this weekend. We loaded up all five bikes, jumped in the Jeep, and cruised off to an area that Google touted to be "popular for biking because it offers more than 120 miles of trails and paved roads."

HA! We drove an hour and a half, arrived at the shore, and found that all the trails were simply bike lanes on the main arteries of the city! There were no coastal trails, and when we tried to take our bikes up near the sand, we found it to be "pouco efficiente." (Portuguese for "highly ineffective"). We could've biked arterial lanes right here at home! I was not happy. We did, however, enjoy the coast. We couldn't really swim though, since we didn't bring suits (and the water was WICKED cold anyway) and we didn't want to ride home in a doorless Jeep with wet clothes. Brrrr...

The other kicker was supper. We went to a local restaurant, and I was FEENIN for some fresh seafood. So I ordered the captain's platter, which had clams, oysters, scallops, shrimp and haddock. What I got was about 12 pounds of grease and batter. We had decided to splurge on this meal, and NO ONE liked their food! You can imagine how much it killed me to fork over NINETY FIVE DOLLARS for food that no one liked. I absolutely do not mind splurging on a great meal (especially seafood) from time to time, if IT'S WORTH IT! It was not.

THEN... we left around 8pm for the drive home. It was chilly, but we were prepared. We brought hoodies and blankets to tuck ourselves in the doorless Jeep. But apparently, the wind was unpleasant on the children. Apparently, he was hogging the blanket. Apparently, she keeps leaning on me. Apparently, I can't sleep because the wind is noisy in my ears. Apparently, my kids are whiny complainers who can't enjoy a long, windy ride in a doorless Jeep. WHAT-EVER.

It's a good thing we had a great time at the shore, because the biking, dining, and Jeeping were a bust. Maybe we should count that as our FHE for the week.