Hmmm...

I once thought I would become a writer. My father is a writer and a good one. My mother also writes beautifully. Many of my siblings are blessed with the gift. In fact maybe all of us? Or maybe we were just exposed to so much literature and writing as children that we developed some skill. I used to sit in my father's loft, on an old red couch with a board (which he had covered with some kind of vinyl) on my lap. Encouraging us to sit and write was a way for him to let us be near him but not interrupt him too terribly while he wrote or graded papers. I can still smell the smells and hear the sounds of his fingers clacking away on the manual typewriter, the whir of the heavy metal phone as it rotated through a number, the creak of his chair as he leaned back when he had swiveled around to look at me. I thought my Dad was amazing and I always wanted to write.

In Elementary school I remember my 3rd grade teacher giving me paintings or photos and telling me to write stories about them to keep me busy and to spark my creativity. I created a series of stories about me and some of the kids in Mr. McLean's 5th grade class called, "The Heroes and Heroettes." As you can imagine, it was about heroic adventures. Mr. McLean would usually have me stand up in class and read them.

In Middle School Honors English, Mrs. Pace was always giving me praises and telling me that I would most surely be a writer ("like your father"). My brother John had a computer down in his room and he'd let me use it whenever I wanted (I think, or maybe I just did whenever he was at work). I remember writing a story about a girl and an experience she had when her Mom and Dad got confused about who was supposed to pick her up and she was left at school. My older brother Chris read it and said, "Did you write this? Really? How did you come up with something like this? Its really REALLY good." And I thought I would die of happiness and pride. I wrote a series of stories about 3 of my friends called, "The Awesome Foursome" and during breaks friends would often gather around to hear the latest installment.

In High School Mrs. Rostkowski was very skilled at teaching me more about poetry and giving me all kinds of ideas for different and creative ways to write. I was the editor of our literary magazine, published various stories and poems, and won some awards for some of my short stories and one of my poems. I even had a letter published in Seventeen Magazine. Pretty big time!

In college I wrote some good papers but didn't do a lot creatively. And little by little it has slipped away from me. Read a letter from my brother Mark and you will laugh, cry, and blush all within 5 minutes. Read Nancy's blog and you will immediately recognize wit and intelligence in her writing. Read one of Chris's short stories and you will most likely pee your pants. Our family loves writing so much that sometimes we would create our own poetry games around the kitchen table. This may sound strange if you don't know us. But if you do, you may have been persuaded to join in. A game might go something like this. We'll say it is my turn to give instructions. I might say: "You have 90 seconds to write a poem. It must be 6 lines. Nine syllables per line. It must start happy and end tragically." And then we'd read them out loud afterwards and laugh and laugh until we cried (or until Dad came out of his room for a late night snack and we had to hold perfectly still so that he, not unlike a velociraptor, would be unable to detect our presence or insanity).

And me? Hm...where has my creative writing ability gone? Sometimes I feel that my creativity is really stifled in the life I lead right now. Yet...what would I change or give up to develop these things more? Less time with the kids? Less time cleaning the house? Less time exercising? Less time working on Haitian Roots? Less time with my husband? Less time preparing church lessons? Less time trying to keep up my foreign language skills? I don't think that I spend enough time on any of those things. In fact there are many other important things that I feel I do not accomplish each day. Yet ever lurking in the back of my mind is the ache to create something beautiful. I want to read. Reading inspires writing more than any other single thing. I want to write. I want to play with words. I want to paint. I want to play the piano. Even at this moment, I feel the desire to spew forth words but there is a knot in my stomach saying, "No time, no time, you are leaving on a trip in 4 hours. NO TIME! So much else to take care of before you go!!!"

So, rather than taking the opportunity to let the "juices flow", I will just quickly throw together another post in order to keep up on my journal. And here it is with not a single creative thing.

This is of April 2010:
Tons of Powder
A full makeover by Deedle, including these two-toned nails
A cute new wig (might look similar to others but it is a little longer, really light weight and comfortable, and has a top where you can part it anywhere and looks and feels much more natural than most of my other wigs)
And finally SPRING!!!
We're finishing off the month at the Happiest Place on Earth. No, no, we're not all going to the temple. We're headed here:

Family Duels

Loumy has been collecting light sabers for awhile. He now has enough that we can all enjoy the beauty that is a Star Wars light saber duel.
Also, Finn is finally trying to crawl on his knees. But only with a little prompting.

Grandma Debbie's Annual Easter Tea 2010

I've been wanting to do a post about my mother-in-law for quite some time. She has been dealing with a cancer called multiple myloma. I will write about it soon. For now I'll just mention that she had a stem cell transplant in January. I didn't think we'd have our "Annual Easter Tea" this year, but Debbie insisted. She had been feeling very well. Regrettably, just shortly after the party started, she became really sick and had to spend the rest of the day in bed. I felt really bad. But the girls all had a wonderful time. I'm posting a lot of photos so that Debbie can enjoy the fruits of her labors through these.

SC and Deedle looked darling in their green dresses. SC enjoyed showing off her new braces. We played Easter Bingo, ate good food, made flower-hair-clips. The Easter Egg Hunt was, of course, the highlight of the afternoon. SC's lifelong friend, Olivia, came to the party. Her younger sister, Marley, came as well. I adore these girls and am so glad they are our friends! There was only one little boy who was allowed to come to the party. He got tired pretty early on and didn't have quite as good of a time as everybody else. But he and I are pretty inseparable these days, so we made due.
Debbie, thanks for all you do to make things so special for all of us! We love you!

A Couple of Conversations

As we left my soccer game last night, while driving:

Loumy: Mom, did you win your game?
Me: No. You were there. Weren't you watching?
Loumy: No. I was playing. Did the other team win?
Me: Yes, they beat us pretty bad.
Loumy: Hm...maybe you should practice more. I think you lose because you never practice.
Me: You're probably right.
Loumy: I mean, you really should practice so you don't lose all the time. You could just go out in the backyard with Dad and like, me, and SC could practice with you.
Deedle: I don't LIKE practicing soccer! All the kids are better than me. I HATE practicing.
Me: Deedle, don't say hate.
Loumy: Mom, do you want me to practice with you so you won't lose all of the time?
Me: Yes, that would be great.
Loumy: Okay, when the snow melts I'll practice with you so you can win some times.


A few days ago at the kitchen table:

Deedle: Mom, who do you love more, Haiti kids or Finn?
Me: Of course my own children are the most important people to me in the world! I love them more than anything else!
Deedle: Then Haiti kids next, right?
Me: Well...yes.
Deedle: What about the rest of your family?
Me: I love my family so much. I am so lucky to have my family!
Deedle: But you really really really love Haiti kids, right?
Me: Yes.
Deedle (knowing smile): Yeah, I know.

Li'l Teenager

String Cheese got braces today. We didn't think she would for several years yet but we took her in for a free consultation and they told us that we could either wait and do it all when she's about 13 (she's got quite an overbite and that will be the best time to work on her jaw) or we could do the first phase now. They said it was optional but that a lot of parents do it to avoid self-esteem issues. I kind of felt in a quandary. On the one hand, I am always trying to teach my children that it is what's on the inside that counts and that we don't have to fit a certain mold to be beautiful. On the other hand, SC is so confident right now and it breaks my heart to think of people teasing her because of her crooked teeth and possibly giving her a complex so that she's not comfortable flashing her beautiful smile. When I discussed it with Chancho, he was all for doing whatever we can to make her life easier. "Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof". You can't take away everything as a parent, nor should you, but if you can do something pretty simple to fix crooked teeth and avoid that...well...why not? Besides, she was begging for braces and has been reveling in the attention all evening.

As I sat on a little bench next to the chair SC was lying on in the orthodontist office, I surprised myself by feeling my eyes well up a bit. With her braces on she looks so much older. She's already so tall for her age and with braces, she almost looks like a little teenager. I love this first daughter of mine fiercely!!!

Here she is on the way to the appointment sans braces:

Here she is this evening before bed. First acting embarrassed and then giving in:

One more thing I should mention about SC is that she is turning into an amazing little writer. The stories themselves are a little crazy, but she's got a great imagination and I want to foster that. Also, I often find writing to be very therapeutic, so I'm glad she's enjoying it so much. More than the stories themselves, though, I'm absolutely amazed at her writing voice and maturity of the dialogue. I'll have to post some tidbits from one of her stories soon.