Tuesday, June 30, 2015


In college, on the first day of classes they review the syllabus and tell you everything you have to get done for the entire semester.  I’d go home and anxiously write everything down in my planner, not letting myself realize that there would be four months to do it all.  I liked getting a head start on everything, finishing school work well in advance to the due date.  This feeling instead of being good would be detrimental as I rarely enjoyed the journey; instead I was antsy about projects I knew full well I didn’t have the resources or knowledge to complete yet.   Today when I sat down at my computer at work I had the same first day of classes overwhelm.  So much to do, but not enough information to complete any of it, so there I sat and stewed.  Stewing is the worst form of torture don’t you think? 

P.S.  I haven’t thought about the word syllabus since the day I left college.  Is that even used in everyday vernacular? 

Friday, June 26, 2015

Do More...

I don't really get Youtube.  I mean I do, but I don't really.  The whole video thing hasn't been my thing and really still isn't.  Despite that, there is a video blog I'm obsessed with.  His name is Casey Nesitat.  Chris used to watch his video's before he started putting up a video everyday.  Now every night when Chris gets off work we sit down and watch.

Disclaimer- Sometimes he says bad words.

Click Here to go watch!

Thursday, June 25, 2015

Lunch Break...

For two and a half years I never took a lunch break at work.  I ate at my desk and continued working.  At the first of the year I decided I needed a break in the middle of the day.  I'm trying to be happier remember.  Even if it was a ten minute walk, and I started doing this by setting an alarm on my computer.  I now do this consistently about three times a week.  The rest of the time I'm usually in a lunch meeting.  A co-worker mentioned she heard about a study about lunch meetings.  If the menu is provided in advance the person always picks something healthy, like a salad.  If the person is presented with the lunch menu an hour before the meeting or the morning of the meeting, the person is more likely to pick the hamburger and fries.  Which is something to think about isn't it.  We make better decisions beforehand, something I think could apply to more than just one aspect of life.

Wednesday, June 24, 2015


I listened to a podcast this morning of Elder Bednar of the quorum of the twelve apostles.  Elder Bednar talked about Faith being an action word.  Obviously we've all heard that.  He related it to a dark hallway.  When we have faith in something we step into the dark, no matter what.  Realizing that the Lord will turn on the light for us to see.  This is one of the hardest aspects of the gospel for me, standing in the light is so much easier than stepping into it.  An old roommate and one of my best friends used to talk about something we refereed to as short term faith and long term faith.  We discussed how the big questions don't seem to bother us anymore, we don't necessarily struggle with long term faith.  At the time we were both moving in different directions and talking a lot about relationships that we were or weren't in at the time..  I am married now, she isn't but she will be someday.  The big things always come, its the small stuff that creates the big things.  It's the short term faith that's the bigger struggle and perhaps what matters more, what can I do today to have hope?  How can I step into the dark hallway this week and truly know without a shadow of a doubt the light will turn on?  My goal today is to find myself a dark hallway and step in.

Tuesday, June 23, 2015


Has anyone been listening to Serial, the Podcast?  I'm late to the party on this one, I get that.  It was only about two months a go that I jumped on the podcast band wagon.  It's the purple icon on your I-phone that you probably located in spot not visible from home screen.  This podcast is essentially a real life crime drama about a kid who supposedly killed his girlfriend in high school.  Go listen to it and then come back tell me you think he is innocent, because I do, at least sometimes I do.

P.S. If you know of any other good Podcasts please let me know!  I'm addicted!

Monday, June 22, 2015


I've written this post in my head a thousand times.  It's in regards to something I'm currently struggling with - being a working mom.  See the thing is I identify with feminism, I mean who can't on at least one aspect or another.  Yet day in and day out I try to manage both motherhood and work and it all just feels exhausting.  I've pin pointed my struggle to this - up until about three weeks a go Caldwell went to bed at 7:30 every night.  Since I usually get home about 4:30, I felt like I was only being a mom three hours a day and during those hours I also had to make dinner, run errands, and sometimes just collapse on the couch after work.  Even the thought of expanding our family made my heart sink.  An hour and a half each day, per kid isn't right.  It just isn't.  Both my mom and mother in law were working moms, they know my struggle, they hear my voice but I can't help but just keep thinking.  Why is this so hard for me?  As I've thought about this over and over I've come to the conclusion this ins't a feminist issue.  It's a consumption issue.  My grandmother who was a stay at home mom talks about how much she enjoyed being at home with her kids.  She didn't live in a fancy house, they made many of their own clothes and she managed a big garden that helped to feed all seven of her kids.  It was a simpler time, one where people simply lived on less, which is something I think it is worth spending more time focusing on rather than feminism.  That being said, the obvious conclusion didn't occur to me until almost 18 months after C was born - put him to bed later!

P.S.  I know this is a controversial topic, your input is welcome below.

Sunday, June 21, 2015


In graduate school I had a professor who would occasionally read my blog.  He got my dry sense of humor and whenever I didn't look busy at work he'd come over to my office and tell me to write something.  After a couple months he followed up with two pieces of advice.  Though they came in a different form.  First he said, "gosh for a graduate student you're horrible at punctuation."  Then I took his class the next semester and he told me he'd drop me a half a letter grade every time I used a comma incorrectly in the weekly papers he assigned.  So I naturally went to the writing lab and made some freshman English major proof read the hell out of my paper's for comma's, instead of actually learning it myself.  His second statement went something like, "lets work together to get your writing more concise."  A pretty vague statement, but one I understood.  I'm long winded.  I write this only to say practicing to be more concise is clearly way more fun than learning grammar rules.

P.S.  I think this class was the only A- I got in graduate school.  That A- means nothing more to me than the fact that freshman in the writing lab missed one.

Saturday, June 20, 2015


Growing up, collecting something was important.  My mom collected Madame Alexander dolls.  My fourth grade teacher Mrs Bird collected bird houses.  A little too obvious for my taste.  I even dated a guy once whose mom collected snow globes, which apparently aren't just seasonal.  You get the point.  Naturally it was important I follow trend and somehow my collectors item became miniature tea sets.  Not actual tea sets; nope, rather I chose tiny tea sets that were in fact themed!  I recall now small frog shaped heads for cups and lily pad coasters.  Tonight as I lay in bed, it became apparent to me that this collection was not something I threw away.  My mom's jaw just dropped because I throw everything away.  I think they're in a box in storage.  This post is nothing more than a mental note, that as soon as we buy a house I'm finding that box and I'll be damned if those won't be displayed.  Now I just need one of those pieces of furniture that have small tiny glass windows so you can see in, but not really see in.  In seems appropriate because I want people to know I collect miniature themed tea sets, but I don't really want people to know I collect miniature themed tea sets.  Ya feel me?

P.S.  I also recall one that was bunny themed that my dad may or may not have super glued back together.

Friday, June 19, 2015


The first time I ever had to smell wine was on my trip to St. Louis last year.  It was a mock networking event which in itself is not worth explaining.  The room was filled with nearly 45 people, all drinking, and not just drinking, but the premise of the event demanded lots of conversation over small round tables just big enough to fit a few wine glasses.  Everyone's cups sloshing red or white as they rounded the room making introductions. The smell started to make my eyes water and one of the mentors asked me if I was okay.  I gave a embarrassed, "yeah".  Was I supposed to say I was a Mormon girl from Utah and couldn't handle the bad breath? Since that night I've been plagued with my inability to handle the smell of wine.  I'm a part of women's organization, its a good group of obscure women who are up to good things; though many of them don't share most of my values.  Last night I sat in a board meeting for that organization, as we encroached upon three hours I sat mystified that I’d just sat in the same spot, nearly as long as I sit in church on Sunday.  Plus the temperature in that room left little to be desired and many of my counterparts at this point were slightly inebriated with wine.  The meeting was good, and important.  Yet I faced the same obstacle I did in St. Louis.  If it smells that bad, why would anyone want to drink it?

P.S.  I feel the same way I feel about the way wine smells, as I do about the way raisins taste.

Thursday, June 18, 2015


I’ve been thinking a lot about goals, dreams and reaching your full potential.  Specifically living the life God wants me to live.  I hesitate writing about religion on such a public forum, but truth is I’m a very religious person, so why not embrace it?  The fact is I’ve been putting off becoming an adult since 2009, the year I graduated college.  I get it, that was six years ago. In those six years I got a master’s degree, I got married and even birthed a kid.  There’s not much more of an initiation process to becoming an adult than having a living breathing human your responsible for.  But for me, nothing was harder than graduating college and realizing that real life was truly working full-time with no summer vacation or the fact I have to take a personal day on Christmas Eve. Then about six months ago I realized maybe that’s not what real life is about.  Maybe the reason I hate being an adult so much isn’t the stuff I’m doing, but rather the stuff I’m not doing.  I truly don’t consider myself a hater of work, but all the “day in day out” stuff is hard for me.  Like when I wake up and only get to snuggle Caldwell long enough for him to finish a bottle, then I place him in front of the TV so I can shower and get out the door.  In college, I spent plenty of time exploring the person I wanted to be.  Now days, I don’t have time.  I used to read constantly, now I can’t even remember the last book I read.  My social circle was vast with people I truly loved talking too.  Today I rarely interact with people who inspire me, I’m relayed with a lot of other people’s financial worries and because I’m a feelings person I emphasize with their worries.  I’ve been told that’s what makes me good at my job.  I really hope so, but more often than not, it feels like the opposite.  Then a couple months ago I started making a list.  A list of my dreams, not just goals because sometimes goals mean effort and I wanted this to me more enjoyable, something I might look forward to when I’m tired at night.  You get what I mean, training for a marathon wasn’t on my list that would require more determination that I was up for.  This isn’t rocket science; I wanted these dreams to be gratifying -short term stuff.  I was/am on a mission to be happier.  On this list, among other things, I found out that I really like to write, but not for the reasons you might think.  Not because I care about blogs or readers.  Writing actually relaxes me and I enjoy it.

There are two instances that led me to write this post today.  First, I printed the entirety of this blog into book form with the intention of deleting it.  It was a quick decision and one that stretched my budget, but when it arrived in the mail that big fat book affected me in a weird way.  I’d never been so grateful I’d jumped on the blogging band wagon years ago.  There were so many memories of Chris and I’s courtship that made me giddy just thinking about it, him, and us.

The second instance involved a lunch meeting a couple months ago.  For the record, I feel like my life consistently revolves around lunch meetings.  That’s beside the point; a gentleman spoke at this one though I can’t remember his name.  He had a normal day job, can’t remember now what that was either.  But get this, he was an author and he spoke passionately about being so.  Keep reading it gets better; his niche was parenting advice for the bathroom.  Quick one lines and paragraphs that would help you become a better parent while you’re sitting on the John.  I sat mesmerized by his enthusiasm for life and more importantly I came pretty close to purchasing one of his books of Amazon, even though I do not recall one time in my life reading a book on the toilet.  At the end of the lunch the question and answer portion of the meeting ensued. Someone asked, “What’s the hardest part about being an author.”  His response was something I’d never thought about.  He said the hardest part about being an author was getting a following.  Finding the people who wanted to buy his books once he wrote them. He went on to talk about the different avenues he perused to get people to notice his writing.  I got the impression he now spends less time writing and more time speaking.  Something I knew immediately he was much better at.  I guess my point is, what if he hadn’t pursued toilet parenting literature?  What if he hadn’t been trying to figure out his path outside of that day job?  So there you have it, my dream (which I’ve allowed myself to change or stop at any time if I want to) is to write more, while in the process enjoying life a little more.