Children

Kids are so cute, but I am coming home exhausted from work. I'm not sure how parents do it - paying attention, caring about each drawing and dance move and new word, watching kids' movies all the time, driving with screaming kids in the backseat, calming down crying babies. It's too much. At least for me to think about. I like other peoples' kids - I can babysit them, play with them, have fun...and then give them back for permanent keepsies.

What I do love, though, is how unique each child is. Even at this age, personalities are shining through and are getting cemented. There's a little boy in the 5-6's who is so quiet and calm. He pays attention to everything and listens so well. We've got a bossy 9 year old that most people want to strangle, too, and a gossipy 8 who loves to talk about how he loves to sing and dance. There are two little girls who have become best friends, but are such an odd couple. And so many more.

The clingers get me, though. I like when kids like me, but...not when they like me that much.

Anyway, my job is going just swell. There are lots of pictures and there will be oh-so-many stories, I'm sure. There is a notebook page full of quotes already.

Daddy's Day

It is quite warm in my house today, especially on the top floor as I was getting ready to go out to the GRAM (Grand Rapids Art Museum) with my father. My feelings about him are quite mixed- our relationship has been quite a rollorcoaster, but I must be thankful that he has remained in my life. I would not be here if it were not for him. So today we are going somewhere together- to look at art which I love- and I will try to put my bad feelings aside.

Yesterday, as I was telling Allye about all that has been happening in my life, she mentioned that it would be great material for poetry. It is true that my days can be very extreme, full of wonderful moments, and moments of sadness and struggle. I must accept this, and maybe I can record them in ways that might help others better understand their own lives. I realize that my life experience is unique and it deserves to be recorded.

currently listening to: Sam Cooke- Jesus Gave Me Water

Other fabulous artists influencing my life: Owl City, Jimi Hendrix, Bob Marley, Ben Kweller, Adele, Xavier Rudd

Another topic of thought~ My younger sister has had some sort of stomach virus for the past four days, and she's been vomiting, and vomiting. It's not good. She has anorexia and her body is very far from healthy. It is very troubling for me. I wish she and so many other girls were not caught in this awfull trap of self- loathing and self-destruction.
Please stop destroying yourselves from the inside out!

Being true, sports

I'm drinking dark coffee at 10:22 in the morning, waiting for my brother Will to stop by to visit- he's getting his braces off finally, after having them for a while and then ripping them off with pliers after not being able to play his trumpet. It was one or two weeks before my parents noticed. Will just didn't smile. Will is living in Cedarville, in the U.P. this summer with his girlfriend's family. I am supposed to be volunteering at Heartside, my mom had places to be and took the car, so that I could watch two episodes of Fresh Prince of Bel-Air in a row- one of them was when Will gets his tonsils out- finish a Morgan Freeman movie called 10 Items or Less (I highly recommend it for anyone looking for something different to watch) and dance to music in the living room.

What I wanted to discuss in this post is the idea of being true to yourself. I feel like some rational-thinking friends would say that its not hard to do this. Just be honest and always listen to yourself. I am very big on honesty, but I'd have to say that while listening to myself isn't a problem, actually communicating my viewpoints and needs to others in a way that they can understand can be difficult. I don't know, maybe I'm making a big deal of this, and I know that I probably do well with this most of the time. Lately though, it seems like acknowledging, "Hey, this is really me. This is what I think, and who I am. This is what I like," is hard. Sometimes I can't even make sense of why I feel uncomfortable, or upset, until later, after I get a chance to really reflect.

For instance, just yesterday my friend Justin took me disking- something that he loves and does every day. I love that he finds so much happiness from it, and I wanted to see what it was like. But when he wanted me to try it, I froze up a little, and I'm afraid that he thought I didn't care and wasn't putting much effort into it. The truth is that I equate sports with fear, judgement, and ridicule. I think back to some of the worst moments in my school years- middle school gym class, when we had our volleyball unit, and the best players chose teams, and it was public knowledge which kids were good at serving, defense, or offense, and which kids just totally SUCKED at everything.

So there's little me, a dorky smart kid who wore weird 80's clothes and crazy accessories to school everyday, hair almost down to her butt, a little chubby, and scared. Guess who always got picked last for teams, was TERRIFIED of getting hit in the face with a volleyball, and hated the ridicule and smirks on kids' faces when her serve couldn't even make it over the stupid net? Literally screwed everytime she walked out of the locker room doors, in gym shorts with the name of a lacrosse team that she didn't play on (are you kidding?) but chose from a second-hand store because of the nice shade of light blue. These kids just wanted to win the volleyball tournament that involved a rotation of all the teams playing against each other- and magically the popular girls all seemed to be amazing at sports. NO ONE wanted her. She always walked out of that gym with her face burning. And then she would try to change back into her funky ass outfits, comb her hair, and continue with the rest of the school day. At least in her classes she knew what the hell was going on. At least the other kids could see her.

Fast forward to my first semester of college, Acting 1, where my fierce prof. Deb had us play a game that's great for learning how to receive energy from fellow actors and to pass it on in return. The game involved standing in a circle and throwing little BALLS. We were required to CATCH them everytime. Shit. I swear I couldn't catch a baby tossed off the roof of a building if mine and the baby's lives depended on it. So my prof. soon found out that I couldn't really participate in the game, and I just smiled and looked cute on the edge of the circle. Sigh.

I did have fun disking at the park, and I admire people who love sports so much. So much. But I'm being honest with myself, that the only thing I'm capable of doing is powerwalking to good music, and dancing (I used to be a bit of a ballerina). That's it. That's me being true to myself.

Assorted goods.

I misplaced my little black notebook for the past two days and it suddenly dawned on me how much it actually meant to me. My mom found it in the back of her car today (but did not bring it inside, and did not tell me where to look. I am a little frustrated, but at least it's narrowed down). But really, important things were in there, and I don't think I appreciated what that little book meant to me. It's nice to have it back.

Earlier tonight, I went for coffee with Josh & Kellene and listened to some fun local music. The group dispersed egg shakers and tambourines amongst the listeners. It was great. I really dug their stuff. Hopefully they play around more. They seem like they really know their roots and what they want to say.

I then came home to an empty house, scavenged a makeshift dinner (and ate so many blueberries - excellent!), and hung out with Erik and got tea. Coffee and tea in one night. I should be bouncing everywhere with the amount of caffeine in my system (and the honey I put in the tea) but I'm quite tired. I have been sleeping a lot more than usual. Maybe my body just needs it. Anyway, these are not necessary facts. But a funny story did happen. When I was out with Erik, my grandmother called to tell me that she went to my "My-Place-Space-Page" and didn't know why one of my songs wasn't up. She refreshed it a bunch of times to see if it would show up, and it didn't. I told her I didn't really understand why, and I'd check it. I came home to realize...I've never put that song up. Oops! I accidentally lied to my grandma. Now she thinks that if she refreshes my MySpace enough, her favorite song will come up. It won't unless I add it. And...I may not anytime soon. Oh, grandmas. They are cute and I love them.

I also had my first day of Theater on Wheels. It was just my boss and the other supervisor and myself. We got to see the sites for the first week, and I'm really excited. I'm sure this job will provide lots of fun stories to write about later. Stay tuned for little kid quotes and van driving adventures.

Bedtime seems to be the theme running through my head right now, or lazily sauntering, as it were. So I am off to sweet dreamland.

(If there are readers out there - don't be afraid to leave comments! Let us know who you are and what you're about. We'd love to hear from you and hear your thoughts and opinions. What do you want to read about? Any questions we can answer for you in our blog?)

Good night, internets. Sweet dreams, blogosphere.

Love wins

It's interesting how we can attribute certain music to specific times in our life. I listened to Alicia Keys' first album during my parents' messy divorce, and I looped Coldplay's X & Y album over and over as I struggled through Uptan Sinclair's The Jungle for my sophomore English class. As I listen to Celine Dion's song A New Day Has Come, I realize that as I have come through many different struggles in my life, I have often turned to this song. It always has such a sobering, but hopeful, wonderous effect.

But I understand the lyrics differently this time, and they create a new meaning for me. Like the sunrise glows in the music video, and Celine calls for the rain to "Wash away all your tears," I see that all the fears of my adolescence have passed. I am able to say that I am no longer afraid.

After talking and catching up with my best friend from high school, I see that so much has changed in my life since that time. There is no room in my life for these same fears- I am free. And of course, as anyone who knows me expects me to say, it is wonderful.

Ok, one more listen to the song before I'm done. It's about the grace of love by the way. Great love has the power to heal almost anything. Some bumper stickers may say that "America always wins." (lol Allye) but I prefer to believe those that say simply, "Love wins." Because it always does.

Right or Left

This weekend was a grand time. I still haven't put the photos from Saturday (i.e. pictures of people in my bathtub) onto my computer. I wish I had taken more pictures, especially at the beach. At the same time, though, having just memories to float around is kind of nice.

Sunday without Bridget was weird. I ate health food by my lonesome, and tried to share some coffee with my family. (They didn't really dig it.) I honestly don't really know what I did with my time. A lot of nothing, I suppose, and cleaning.

While babysitting two boys today - an imaginative 8 year old and a bubbly 1 year old - I had a wonderful revelation about this weekend. I rolled around on the floor today, fought with foam swords, talked about light sabers and dinosaurs. It helped me see that I loved being with those people on Saturday because they so readily embrace their inner child and yet are often wise beyond their years. We played in the woods, running down tall hills and jumping over fallen trees, broken-branch sword fights and dead fish on sticks. We were dirty, adventurous, happy. We saw "Up," and laughed at childish jokes and silly things. We said "shit" when the car lights were left on, snuck kids into the drive-in in a trunk, behaved like rowdy teenagers at times. We cuddled. We built a fire and climbed on my roof. Discussed religion, spirituality, meaning and purpose. Talked about life. Ate s'mores. We were everything, all of the time.



Things are often beautiful in the most simple ways.
I love.

And she looks so righteous!

We were running around all over the place today! Driving around Muskegon, going thrifting again (They had 99 cent clothes and a pair of boat shoes that I've been searching for for years! I am elated to find them. Also, a couple of vintage dresses, waist cinching belts for both Allye and I, and a Leo Buscaglia book about love, with the very quote next to my senior yearbook picture, in the front cover: "We are each of us angels with only one wing. We can only fly embracing eachother." I don't think there is another statement which I believe with so much of my heart.) and taking her brother to appointments and the grocery store. 

We had moments of Europeanisms today. We sat and drank coffee and sparkling lemonade at an outdoor section of a restaurant. I have been fortunate enough to experience being in Giverney, France sipping expresso on a beautiful sunny day last spring. It was an outdoor cafe, where an wrinkled man stood behind the counter making pizzas, and his daughter served my expresso with the tiniest little spoon. 

All of this has strengthened my belief in the importance of those old, quaint customs of having a bit of tea and a scone in the afternoon, or in my case, sitting down for "foamy coffee" in the mornings with my mom (she loves a lot of milk and uses a stick foamer). For me, they are a chance to take some slow breaths in the middle of the activities of the day. I think about a cookbook I have of the desserts Claude Monet liked best for afternoon tea. Or siestas, or whatever, these are so important for us as people. I really belief that this custom has been ejected from much of American culture. And daily Starbucks runs don't count :-) 

So it is 11:30 p.m and Allye had the idea earlier of going through her closet to make some creative outfits with the stuff she has, and incorporate our FANTASTIC thrift store items like a orange and blue plaid shirt. We have been at it for about three hours, and feel so damn refreshed about ourselves and hopeful for the days ahead. I just encouraged her as she tried belting things at the waist with much success, and different combinations to revive items she hasn't worn in ages.

And I got in the game of course, with vests, dresses, boat shoes, a yellow fannypak, and a necklace that I'm resolved to never take off. I just know my grandma would be so proud.

People are beautiful, like Allye said. And life is beautiful. Staying with her, talking and learning about her, seeing life through her eyes, and skipping around Muskegon with songs on our lips has been very healing. One of the most delightful weeks of my life. I am so thankful to her and her family.