Mommy, Take My Picture!

She seemed fascinated

with the toilet.  I thought

she’d train early. 

She didn’t.

She took off

after she turned one. 

How cool to

move herself

with her feet, to go

from room to room. 

To explore. 

                                                      She collected balls and rocks.

Whenever we’d go

out walking she would climb

on fire hydrants and

pick up anything

she found in her path. 

She loved roly-polys. 

They resembled small balls. 

She did attempt

to put one in her mouth.

                                            She collected whatever she could carry.

She started preschool

when she was three. 

We’d walk to school. 

She would balance

on the way, walking over walls

as though she was on a tightrope. 

I would entertain her

with imitations of circus music

and emcee her “daring moves”

and I would take her picture

She dawdled

as she explored every yard

between our house and the school. 

                                                    She collected rocks and pinecones.

She loved each season

and enthusiastically greeted

anything that was new. 

The wind,

crunching leaves,

sleds,

snow banks,

blossoms,

snails

 fascinated with

every part of nature. 

                                                    She collected rocks and leaves.

Today she dawdles

much as she did when

she was three.  She explores

whatever God has created. 

She climbs trees and

snow banks and continues

to make snow angels. 

She continues to

balance on walls as she did

when she was three

and asks for me to make the sounds

of the circus as she performs

on her “tightrope” and ask

"Mommy, Will you take my picture?"

                                             She collects Pokémon cards and rocks

She will stand on top of

 rocks and stumps and ask me

to take her picture

lying on balls and

fire hydrants still exploring

as she had when

she was three

                                                        She now gives her rocks faces.

Interpretation of Dreams . . . but not always

This post is different from  average - at least in this blog.  Perhaps you have an opinion?  And then we could have a discussion

I dreamt that I was at some kind of convention – a BYU education week perhaps.  I believe I was in Provo with a mass amount of people.  For some odd reason I had been toting around some bedding (at least two pillows and one afghan) something I would NEVER do in real life.  For some reason there was a group of us ended up waiting for one of the instructors at his home.  And while we were waiting several dressed like hell’s angels decided to do some kind of aerobic activity on the instructor’s lawn.

As the skies grew dark I found myself on the front porch wrapped in my afghan and sitting on my pillows until I decided (as odd as their particular moves seemed to be) I would join them.  I was a lot thinner in my dream and therefore it seemed more reasonable than if I were to try it now in real life.  I would probably end up lying on the grass unable to move.

 

Somewhere along the way we had instantaneously moved from the lawn to a room in the house receiving instruction.  I don’t know what the topic was. I can’t imagine that it would have held my interest judging by the group of people that were present – I just don’t think I would have been interested in the same subjects – though it all seemed to make sense in my dream.

I recall walking to the next class with a female association of the instructor’s.  It was no longer dark, but the sun shone brightly as we walked onto the campus for our next class. The class was on physics or psychological disorders or something that starts with “p” although the “p” itself is not pronounced.  Whatever the topic, I am certain that I would have found another class to attend in real life.  

 

As different students were filing in, I was separated with the woman whom I had walked in with.  She was near one door and I found myself standing by the other on the opposite side of the room. Just before the class started I realized that I had left the bedding behind.  I was a bit panicked at loosing my treasures (the afghan is one my mom had made for me in real life) and wondered how I would recover them. How would I ever get to the Wilkinson Center (a building at BYU) from where I was and be able to find my contents undisturbed? (duh, I was standing by a door – I didn’t have to stay for the lecture, did I?) I then remembered that I hadn’t been at the Wilkinson Center at all.  My belongings remained at an instructor’s house.  I hadn’t paid attention to how I had arrived there and did not know how to go back.  Surely his female associate would know his address.  But I never saw her again.

For the remainder of the dream I searched for someone who could tell me how to get back so that I may reclaim my bedding.  When I awoke both pillows were on my bed along with the afghan that my mom had made many years ago.  Had I shared this dream with Roland he would have asked, “What do you think it means?”

I think it means I was extraordinarily tired.  End of story.

 

Do your dreams seem to send messages for you?  What's your opinion about this one?

What's in a Name?

I recall a former bishop who has six children – each given a name or names after people that this bishop and his wife had crossed paths with.  I had actually met the two men whom their youngest had been named after.  I was just a youth when one of the men passed, but I’m actually good friends with the man who is living.  What an honor the bishop’s youngest should feel to share a name with such a marvelous man, as I’m certain each individual involved with the lives of their family.

My mom had been given one of those feminized masculine names (e.g. Josephine, Roberta, Patricia, Geraldine, Georgette . . .), which she didn’t particularly care for. It was three syllables long and as she learned to write was too long of a name to fit on the top line of any school paper.

It wasn’t until high school when she decided to go by her unisex nickname (e.g. Joey for Josephine, Bobby for Roberta, Pat for Patricia, etc.) but still did not care for the name. 

After Corey had finished his mission, my mom went to Europe to tour with him before he returned back to the states.  Corey introduced her to several people he had served with.  One was a man whose wife was expecting a child.  They wanted to name the baby after Corey (who’s given name could be feminized quite easily) but said that if they were to have a girl that they would name the baby after my mom.  I think she may have been flattered in a way, but hoped the couple would have a boy, as she was not fond of her name – though she did like the way her name was pronounced by the expecting father.  They ended up giving birth to a baby girl whom they named after my mother.

There are several names now adays that one may associate with being feminine or being masculine that eventually end up on the unisex list.  We would have named Jenna after my father had she been a boy but Roland wouldn’t go for the name for a girl – nor did I know how to feminize it though I had a few suggestions – nothing really felt right.

I really did like the name Jenna – but that’s the only thought that was put into it.  I named her that because I liked the name.  That was it.  I did give her my maiden name as a middle name.  This I did for three reasons:

1)             I could honor my dad with his last name and have a piece of me in there as well

2)             If something should ever happen to me and Roland, it was decided that my family would continue raising Jenna (and the boys as needed) and I wanted her to have the name for family connection

3)              My maiden name isn’t Cannon.  It’s less common (about the 975^th most common name) while Roland’s last name is very common (65^th most common at the time) and to avoid financial problems and “proof of identity” that may occur later on, I gave her an identity that should separate her from pretty much everybody else on the planet.

Had I thought about it, I may have named her after Roland’s late wife.  But it really didn’t even occur to me until my sister Kayla was pregnant with her first child.

Through inspiration, Kayla had already suggested to Bill that they should name their first daughter after his late wife.  And thus Anna was named after Annaleigh.  Had she been a boy there was a name reserved that has become tradition for Bill’s side of the first name for I don’t know how many generations. But the boy would go by whatever middle name his parents gave him.  Thus two years later the names were given to my (currently) youngest nephew.  The name he goes by is the first name of my father.

Now pregnant with their third child, they decided to name him/her after mom though the spelling would be different.  I can’t help but believe, though mom was not fond of her name, that she would be honored, as the child should be for being named after such an awesome woman. 

Here is another interesting situation that has occurred in my family:  My maternal grandmother is the oldest of three.  She has two brothers.  Girl, boy, boy.  My mom is the oldest of three children.  She has two brothers.  Girl, boy, boy.  I am the oldest.  I have two brothers.  Girl, boy, boy, girl

My brother Patrick and his wife were the first to provide my mom with grandchildren.  There eldest is a girl.  She has two brothers.  Girl, boy, boy, girl.  I had told Kayla that her first-born would be a girl.  Mine was.  Mom’s was.  Patrick’s was. 

Do you honor the names that you have?

Preparedness

Preparedness (according to Wikipedia) refers to a very concrete research based set of actions that are taken as precautionary measures in the face of potential disasters. These actions can include both physical preparations (such as emergency supplies depots, adapting buildings to survive earthquakes and so on) and trainings for emergency action. Preparedness is an important quality in achieving goals and in avoiding and mitigating negative outcomes. 

Methods of preparation include research, estimation, planning, resourcing, education, practicing and rehearsing.

         It’s been eighteen years since BYU hosted the imperial tombs of china – an exhibit that my mom and I had gone to.  I found it odd that these rulers would spend their entire lives preparing for their deaths.  But then I suppose to some extent many of us experience a similar thing.

         Oh, we don’t design the interior of our tombs, or have servants weave the jade suit that we will be buried in, or spend billions of dollars recreating an army of statues or select people to be buried with us. Yet there are millions who will send a check to a life insurance company each month so that their beneficiaries may be able to use that money on their burial when the time comes.  Some actually plan out their programs, purchase plots, and even make final arrangements for themselves. And sometimes those plans are carried out.  Others are not.  And it’s not as if the deceased will really be the ones who benefit

         We are also encouraged to prepare to face disaster.  Keep a backpack near the front door so that we can evacuate at a moments notice.  It has happened.  An apartment complex had flooded and the tenants were asked to relocate.  Fires in various cities have kept the residence away – or rather it has been enforced.  

There are a number of reasons why we need toprepare.  We may have invested on creating a food or water storage for example.  We may need it when the weather is great and there are no elements to force us to leave our house. We may use your food supply during the time we are out of work and there is no income.  Roland and I lived off food storage and charity for two years.  And I am grateful that we had the sense to store the food that we had – for it was desperately needed.

         One day last week Roland and I had the opportunity of attending an emergency preparedness class.  I had made arrangements to leave Jenna with a friend, but she said she wanted to go to the class.  I had heard the “earthquake lady”’s demonstration before.  This video will give you an idea of how involved she is with emergency preparedness.

         For Christmas she will give “preparedness” gifts – and while it’s a wonderful thought, I bet the average receiver (grateful or not) would hope that she or he will never have the opportunity to use said gift.  I have a hard time collecting “stuff” that takes up space when I’m having a hard enough time finding space for the essential day to day stuff.

 

         We were advised to prepare backpacks for each individual in the family.  Jenna took her words to heart  – and though she couldn’t find a backpack to use, has put together the necessary items and had filled a handled bag.  If we were asked to leave the house right now, she is the only one who is physically ready.

        

“Stepmom” Review and Comparrison

         “Stepmom” was released in theatres December 1998.  The movie is put out by Columbia Pictures and stars Julia Roberts and Susan Sarandon.  

I enjoyed the movie the first time I watched it. I hadn’t considered being able to identify with any of the characters personally, though I did know of actual people that were real life characters.  I thought Jena Malone’s character was a brat.  Great actress.  I had seen her in a Hallmark production only two years earlier.  Ellen Foster and Anna Harrison – though played by the same actress – were two entire different people.  I did not even realize it was the same actress until only moments ago.

         Julia Roberts plays Isabel Kelly – the current love of Luke Harrison (played by Ed Harris) who’d been married to Jackie (played by Susan Sarandon) – and finds herself in a situation of “sharing custody” of Luke and Jackie’s two children, Anna and Ben.

         Jackie, not thrilled with the idea that there is another woman in Luke’s life, overall is a really good mother.  But she definitely lacks in kindness towards Isabel.  But we learn that she also suffers from health issues – which she has chosen to keep from her family.

         After 15 years I decided I would like to see it again and thus borrowed it from the library.  I have a much different perspective than I had had fifteen years ago as I now seem to identify with much of Julia Roberts character, Isabel – the stepmom that tries to love Anna and Ben.  She has to deal with much confrontation – especially on the part of Jackie.  Though Isabel and Jackie have limited conversation in the beginning – at least they have conversation – which is more than I ever got with Roland’s ex-wife.

         For those who haven’t been following my post, Roland has two daughters who are older than Jenna.  Though I have tried to steer away from the subject of his ex-wife there have been two of my posts in which I refer to her as Maleficent.  I honestly don’t know much about her and she doesn’t know anything about me.  I don’t believe she knows anything about anybody.  I don’t know if she’s just so cruel that it has eaten her away or if she really does have something such as bipolar or schizophrenia – which of course would be beyond her control – especially if she isn’t seeking treatment.

         I don’t suppose I should pass judgment as I have never walked in her shoes.  When Jackie Harrison lied it was to protect her children or even Luke to spare them the grief that her health has declined .  Maleficent lies to all people for various reasons – different lies as I don’t guess she can keep track of the ones that she’s already told.  Or else she has told them enough that she actually believes them and has somehow managed to swindle the courts (for the most part) into believing her also.  She tells lies to gain favor – or cover up her own actions.  I truly believe she needs psychiatric help and has actually been to therapy – but if a psychiatrist or doctor or therapist or psychologist or whatever happens to say something that sounds remotely like they disagree with her, she drops them like a hot potato – or so I’ve been told. 

         I have nothing against Jenna’s sisters – though it may have seemed that way.  I give Isabel a lot more credit at making a good effort than I ever did.  I would have liked to hug Roland’s daughters or given them a pat on the back or done something more to make them feel loved.  But I was afraid about showing any affection as Maleficent had taught them that all physical contact (be it from me or dad or brothers) was grounds for sexual abuse and would coach her girls into going along with whatever scheme she had come up with.

         Fortunately she was only able to brainwash only one at a time.  Unlike Anna, the girls were not the same type of brat that Jenna Malone had portrayed in the movie. In the beginning Frances ached to be with her dad and her brand new sister Jenna.  She was excited  each time she would come – more often without Pamprin who was a brat – but not in the same manner that Anna was.  I didn’t actually blame Pamprin for her behavior.  I knew Maleficent allowed Pamprin to have anything her heart desired – even at Frances’ expense.  She seemed to favor Pamprin over Frances and I think it had become obvious to Frances.

         We were finally awarded consistent visitation rights after a long battle.  But they were never consistent – Maleficent made certain of that.  All the stipulations and exceptions that the court made for her.  They still grate on my nerves.  She invited Satan into the lives of so many – and somehow I had allowed it into my own.  I cringed each time the phone would ring so that she could say good-night and “grill” her girls on the kind of day they had.

         Frances developed her own set of health problems – I think most of that was psychological.  Maleficent was such a hypochondriac that she probably helped in the deterioration of Frances.  So she was finally able to turn Frances against us – meanwhile Pamprin finally started to come around.  Going to dads was not so bad.  It was actually a preferable environment.  Pamprin wanted to come.  And Frances didn’t.  Or so Maleficent had succeeded in making Frances believe that she didn’t want to come.

         Then there was the move to another state . . . our attorney said we could fight to have them stay in the state.  I honestly did not wish to have Maleficent sharing my same planet – let alone state and county.  We didn’t have the finances.  And Roland really didn’t spend that much time with or even know the girls anyway.  So long as Maleficent was near, our lives would be disrupted. Maleficent was going to turn them against us weather in this state or another.

         Jackie Harrison had a lot more compassion than Maleficent.  Jackie Harrison is actually quite likeable.  Oh, she seemed to have that desire to turn her kids against Isabel and seemed certain that Isabel would never be able to raise her children the way that she had.  Truth was she was jealous of the time that Isabel would be able to spend with her children that she herself would not.

         The scene in which Jackie and Isabel are having lunch together is a very touching one.  I cried along with the characters fifteen years ago, but even moreso today.  For I am in a better position for understanding each of the characters. 

         I can actually provide the girls with positive memories of what they did while visiting with Roland and me and their sister and eventually all three of their bothers.  I have many photos, many documentations.  But I could never explain to them things about their biological mother as all I have is negative vibes about her.  I suppose she loves them in her own way.  Unfortunately she tries to express so much of it in material things.

         Unfortunately I don’t have a lot for the boys.  No memories of them before the ages 11, 12 and 13.  Very few photographs.  No scrapbooks or journals.  Yet I have ten volumes and counting filled with photographs and daily to monthly accounts for Jenna. 

         I don’t want to replace Maleficent.  I really don’t.  I would like to understand why she is the way she is and get along for the girls’ sakes – or would have liked to do so.  Our relationship (should we ever have one) will be a lot different now than when they were children.  The youngest will turn eighteen  before the summer begins.  I don’t know if either one of them will put forth any effort at making contact with their biological dad or brothers.  We’ve been out of touch going on six years.  It’s not their fault.  Maleficent still interferes. 

         My favorite part comes at the end of the money.  SPOILER ALERT for those who have not seen the movie.  Isabel is taking pictures of the family and Jackie invites her to sit with them so that the picture will be of the whole family.  How great that would be for Anna and Ben to see that family picture with both moms together.  Would make the transient easier I would think.

         I have prayed that Maleficent herself might find happiness – true happiness.  She really isn’t happy.  As a result I don’t think the girls probably are either. I hope that I will have another opportunity to be a friend to Frances and Pamprin without the influence of Satan.  I hope that Roland will have the opportunity to get to know his daughters.  I hope that Jenna will be able to learn more about her sisters – from them.

The Woman in the Background

Formally titled "Walking in Another’s Shoes (or "What Are the Odds?")"

Miranda and her mother live in Arizona.  They had come to Utah to spend the Thanksgiving Holidays.  On Black Friday they found themselves at an Old Navy store in Sandy, Utah.  The two were smiling as someone took their picture, which evidently Miranda immediately posted to her facebook page.  The focus should have been on mom and daughter – to see their happiness.  But for some reason her facebook friends seem more drawn to the woman in the background.  Apparently she wore a sour expression that many “friends” felt the need to poke fun at. 

         I have not seen the photo myself nor read the hurtful comments.  But I’ve been told that they exist - or did.  And with the given track record of facebook, I have no reason to doubt it.  People can be hurtful and mean and put others down without even knowing them or the circumstances or background of the individual that we are demeaning with our hateful words.  We become facebook bullies. 

         I have mentioned my sister-in-law, Sunny and her enthusiasm and her remarkable spirit.  Evidently she teaches the gospel doctrine lessons – which she says is somewhat intimidating, as most of the class members appear to be old enough to be her parents or grandparents.    Sunny always prays and studies out her lessons (or talks or sharing time or whatever her calling is) and always seems to have a fountain of Spirit pouring out of her.  She radiates! 

         Her subject was on the Proclamation of the Family.  Because of the signs of the time and issues in the media, she knew that subjects may be brought up with confrontation and judgment – and did not want her class to become a sideshow or debate.  She did a lot of research and called Corey to ask his approach.  Corey ALWAYS has good advice, as the Spirit seems to be with him ever much as it is for Sunny.

         Sunny ended up writing a huge list before the class had even started.  On her list she had put gay marriages, unwed mothers, child abuse, alcohol abuse, drug abuse, spousal abuse, divorce, temple marriages, civil marriages, single mothers, mixed families . . . . there were a lot.  It sounds like her list covered the entire board.

         After the opening prayer she shared the story at the beginning of this post – from her point of view.  Sunny was the sourpuss woman in the background of the photo.  She has some sibs who happened to be facebook friends with Miranda.  What are the odds?

         After far too many hurtful comments, one of Miranda’s friends contacted her and asked her to please remove the photo with all of it’s comments – for the woman in the background whom the “friends” were bashing was her sister – and it was hurtful to see all those unnecessary comments who had lost focus of what the picture really should have represented.

         Sunny (an enthusiastic shopper and person by nature) hadn’t had a proper amount of sleep and fully admitted that she was not in the best of mood when she returned to Old Navy for the third time in less than 24 hours.  It is quite evident from the photo that Sunny did NOT want to be there - but she is such a great mother she had sacrificed her time to take her fourteen year old daughter and stand in line while Candy found items that she wanted to purchase.  (Sunny is not her actual name.  I call her that because of her normally sunny disposition - which evidently is quite hidden in the photo) 

         Sunny finished relating the events that had taken place and concluded with a plea to not pass judgment.  She pointed to words on her list while saying, “This is my brother”,  “This is my sister”, and “Everybody in this room knows somebody on this list”  

         Sunny said the Spirit had been invited into the room and stayed throughout the class.  She said she felt great about the lesson and knows that others were touched as she received heartfelt compliments.  She really is a great teacher – great person really.  And those in Miranda’s circle would never say the mean things they did if they actually did know Sunny.

         As Sunny shared her lesson and as I later related this all to Roland, I realized that I am guilty of jumping to conclusions long before I try walking in another’s shoes.  May I always keep this with me that I may recognize that all people are a part of the human race – always somebody’s brother, somebody’s daughter, somebody’s parent, somebody’s friend.

         May we all recognize others as our own family members.