Sounds Like Home

When I was younger, I had a lot of trouble sleeping at night. Every night at midnight and 2 a.m. there was a train that would come through.  I looked forward to hearing that train whistle because for at least that moment, I knew I wasn't the only one awake.

Right now I think I'd give almost anything to hear a train whistle.

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While I'm up, I thought I'd make a list of some of the other odd noises I love:

Whether during a storm in the middle of the night or at noon of the first Monday of the month for testing, I've come to love the sound of tornado sirens. The eerie wailing has become a source of comfort.

The sound of an attic fan turning on was an immediate sign that 1) it was probably the weekend and 2) it was almost summer.  Usually this was the noise I would wake up to on Saturday morning and the sound I went to sleep to Sunday evenings.

Thunder. No, not low, rumbling, rolling thunder... the house-shaking, window-rattling thunder.  If it doesn't put a little of the fear of God into you, it isn't the real thing.

That sound that a water hose makes when you first turn it on before all the air bubbles are out. (Water also tastes best from the hose... just FYI.)

Our pool was right outside my bedroom window. Some nights, the source of my sleeplessness was the frogs.  They would usually settle down by midnight, though. (Just in time for the trains...)

Airplanes flying overhead.  I spent a lot of time playing outside by myself while my siblings were at school. Along with the birds (and tornado siren testing if it was the first Monday of the month) the airplanes were the noises of the afternoon.

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That'll do for now. I'm off to wait for sleep...or the train.  Whichever comes first.

Whose Mommy Are You?

Today, as my sister Brenda and I were heading out with her kids to our brother Derek's house for Easter festivities, I decided (or perhaps was inspired?) to drive a separate car.  This proved wise, as just before pulling into his neighborhood, her middle child threw up out the window of the car. After getting everyone cleaned up, she left the other two with me and took the barfer home.
After a lovely Easter dinner (since our appetites had been worked up cleaning vomit) and an egg hunt, Seth brought over a book to read with me on the couch.  One of the other children, about 3 years old, looked at us, smiled and asked, "Are you his mommy?" I said, "No, I'm his aunt." Looking around the room with a confused expression he finally said:

"Well, whose mommy are you?"

I shrugged and replied, "I'm not a mommy."

His confusion turned to disappointment as he simply said, "Oh," and walked away.  As it usually does when a woman in her late twenties is asked why she doesn't have a family, it made my heart hurt for a few minutes.

Later when I went to "drop off" the boys, I found a frustrated Brenda scrubbing vomit chunks out of the carpet.  I stayed and began cleaning up the kitchen when I heard Seth call from the other room, "Um, Ami?!" in a tone that told me immediately that there would be potty puddle awaiting my arrival. One "tubby time," one emergency laundry load, one sink full of dishes and one runaway puppy later... I was on my way home, but I felt bad leaving Brenda in the chaos.  It was at this moment that I realized:

Aunt = Part-time mommy.

Not such a bad gig.

A Little Child Like Me

Last October while babysitting my 3 year old nephew, he asked if he could play a game that he enjoyed on my electronic tablet. Coincidentally, the battery had died and I had just plugged it in to charge. I explained that he would need to wait a little while in order to play for more than just a minute. That seemed to satisfy him, but about two minutes later he ran back and asked if it was ready yet. "No," I said, "not yet."

Just a few minutes later, he came back a third time to ask if it was ready, and before I could finish the word, "No," his tiny hands had formed into tight fists and his big brown eyes welled-up as he tearfully shouted, "Stop saying that!"

I took him into my arms and replied, "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. You'll just have to wait."

A few days later, I sat listening General Conference. With no family of my own and a somewhat less-than-mediocre career, my heart was heavy with the disappointment of things in my life that had not happened as I had hoped they would by now. I listened intently as President Henry B. Eyring gave his talk, Where Is the Pavilion?

As he spoke the words, "we can’t insist on our timetable when the Lord has His own," I distinctly and firmly thought to myself, "Oh, I'm so tired of hearing that!" I was startled as immediately the image of that little boy, desperate for me to change my answer just a few days earlier, came into my mind. This time the tears were in my own eyes. It seemed as though my Heavenly Father was taking me into His arms as my own words came back to me:

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. You'll just have to wait."

At that moment I knew that the Lord was aware of the desires of my heart and began to understand that while He sincerely wants us to be happy, He truly knows what and when is best. I felt an overwhelming gratitude for the blessings I have received, and a renewed patience for blessings yet to come.

Knowing Win to Quit (That's a pun.)

I love to win.

Winning is my favorite.

Even when it isn't a competition, you can bet I'm doing everything I can to win.  My walls are actually full of imaginary awards that I've won in various non-competitions throughout my life. (Though to the untrained eye, they may look empty...)

That being said, I'm learning these days that there is a certain satisfaction that comes with admitting defeat. Throwing the towel. Looking up at the universe and shouting (only figuratively of course), "Fine, I give up!"

I first learned this lesson that fateful night in the car few years ago in an incident that I won't describe in detail.  Let's just say that nature won, I lost... and my life was changed forever. I'll never forget the exact moment I realized:

This is happening. You lose. Embrace it and move on.

I recently relived this feeling with a failed Halloween costume that I'd planned for quite a while.  As it turns out, the primary component to my outfit may or may not even exist in this universe.   Unfortunately, I'd already collected everything else that I needed and spent a good amount of time trying to make it work when I found that out.  Even then, the moment I decided it was time to let go was like the world being lifted from my shoulders.

Granted my costume may not be awesome, but my quality of life has increased with the decrease in stress to a degree that makes me wonder...

What else can I give up on?

Below is the list of life goals I could possibly let go of with their respective stress reduction percentages. I've entitled it:

Things to Let Go of with Their Respective Stress Reduction Percentages

1. Finding a Husband - 50% reduction
2. Making Money - 40% reduction
3. Exercising - 5% reduction
4. Feeding Myself - 2.5% reduction
5. Getting out of Bed - 2.5% reduction

So there you have it! Giving up on life entirely = 100% relief of stress.  If only I'd learned this sooner, I may not have wasted so much time and energy trying to get ahead or accomplish things!

Maybe one day I'll declare total defeat.  In the meantime...

I still REALLY love to win.

Accessory: (adj) Subordinate; Supplementary; Additional

Yesterday I woke up in an existential emo funk that lasted most of the day.  (This doesn't happen infrequently, but pleae don't confuse it with depression or anything close to suicidal.)  I realized that I sometimes feel exhausted from constantly trying to validate my own existence.  The fact is this: As far as my current relationships in life are concerned...I lift right out.

If I were to suddenly cease to exist, at most it would be a bummer... perhaps even an inconvenience for some.  For example, at work under certain circumstnaces it may take up to 10 minutes before someone could be available to take over my position, and my roommates would have to come up with my third of the rent.  That would be incovenient.  Beyond that, nobody would be seriously put out.  I came home and expressed this concern to one of my roommates )with an embarrassing amount of emotion) with the conversation culminating in my exclaiming...

"I'm just an accessory!"

...after which we both broke down into hysterical laughter. Yes. I'm ridiculous. But this is how it is. I would be missed in the way that one misses a bracelet that slips off unnoticed. Later they would say, "Dang it. I did like that bracelet!" then run to the mall for a replacement accessory. 

When I looked up the definition of the word, I found a few that fit pretty well with how I had originally meant it... and one that might work better.

Accessory: (noun) Something nonessential but desirable that contributes

to an effect or result.

I started to think more about what type I would be.  Maybe that's really what makes all the difference. 
I thought of three categories:

• Costume jewelry:  Pretty inexpensive and extremely replaceable. Nevertheless fun to have.

•  Heirlooms: Not always nice to look at and may never be worn, but worth keeping around for sentimental value or obligation.

• Engagement/wedding rings:  Typically expensive and symbolic of something deeply meaningful. (Also super sparkly!)

So maybe all accessories can't be counted equally.  I'm sure I'm a different kind of accessory to everyone that knows me.  Perhaps not essential to any, but in some way desirable with something to contribute to most. Good enough for now.

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"Accessories are important and becoming

more and more important every day." -Giorgio Armani

Kicking the Bucket... List?

Okay, so I'm not getting rid of the "Everlasting Bucket List," though I'm sure that's how the title makes this sound. I have, however, been neglecting it and am getting myself re-amped.

Let's begin with a little housekeeping...

1) I can now recognizably play "Moon River," "Not in Nottingham," and a number of miscellaneous Christmas carols on the harmonica. At the moment, I only play for family and close friends. And by close I mean those in near enough proximity to overhear me practicing when I think I'm alone. However, since I'm well on my way to professional status, I'm going to go ahead and replace "Play the Harmonica" on the list.

2) I have, in the last few months, had at least 3 massages. Legit massages. Perks of working at a physical therapy clinic... I have good connections! I fully intend to make this a regular part of my adult life. It's absolutely essential to survival. Let me know if you need a reference!

So, I need new goals! Here are my two best ideas...

1) Until today, I had not seen any part of any Rocky movie. (I know. It's a crime.) As a self-proclaimed underdog-loving sports movie junkie, I'm a little ashamed of that fact. I just watched the last 20 minutes of Rocky IV (which I've heard is the best one) and am now determined to watch them all. Even the awful ones. "Play the Harmonica" with now be replaced with "Watch all 6 Rocky movies." Then maybe I'll rank them in order of favorite.

2) Learn braille. Okay... just the alphabet. Brilliant, right? Granted, I rarely see braille anywhere without unintentionally reading the words above it first, and typically it would be easier to feel the actual letters with my fingers to read it... I'm doing this. It's happening.

Wish me luck!

Confession 2012: T Minus Two Weeks...

Okay. I'm coming clean. To all of you who have believed me as I've claimed to be 19 (for about 4 years) I have something to confess.  In roughly 13 days, I will be turning... 27 years old.

**GASP**

Man, I feel better!  Now that that's out of the way, I know you must all be feeling sorry for me during this difficult transition into my late 20's. (Ugh. Just the thought of it makes me shudder.)  I imagine you must now be struggling to find some way to comfort me in my time of need.

That's why, in order to aid you in your attempt to show your compassion, I've compiled this list of fabulous things that I will undoubtedly need for my 27th year!!

I've titled it:

THINGS EVERY (at least this) 27-YEAR-OLD FEMALE REQUIRES

- An aloe vera plant. (My roommate killed the one I got for my 26th birthday.)
- One of those scrunchy garden hoses they sell on TV. (Why not?)
- Sour worms. (Can't have too many.)
- A Magic 8 ball. (To make the tough 27-year-old decisions.)
- One of those things that goes around my neck to hold my harmonica while I strum the ukulele...
- Fluffy flip-flop style slippers.
- A Magic Bullet. (To blend stuff.)
- Boxing gloves.
- A water cooler.
- Accessories. (Evidently I don't do it well.)
- Squishy Baff.
- Satin dental floss.
- A Sooner Schooner foam hat.
- Kevin Durant jersey.
- A gun. (Preferable a Springfield XDM .40)
- A tent.
- A black light.
- A lover. (So next year won't require so much consolation.)

This list may be modified. Did I miss anything?