Wednesday, January 27, 2010

I had to do a project for a class where we had to choose books to represent our lives and what is most important to us. A paper was also required and I thought I'd share it!




I have built my life on a firm foundation of books. I learned to read at a very young age and have had a book in my hands ever since. Books are friends when I am lonely. Books never judge me. When life is too much, books take me away. Books share their knowledge with no hesitation. Books have shaped my thoughts and beliefs. When I am looking for guidance, books show me the way. I have always been able to define myself through books, and this assignment let me use books to help define that which is most important to me, my family.

My husband Forest is a wonderful man whom I am lucky to share my life with. His curiosity and playfulness keep me on my toes. He has many interests and hobbies which all include making some sort of mess. Forest’s main passion is cars and he holds a special place in his heart for Mustangs. Peter Henshaw, author of Mustang, was able to capture every thing my husband loves about these cars in one book. My husband doesn’t read many books, but he has read this one over and over again always pointing out the mistakes. There was no real process in selecting this book for Forest; he loves this book and it brings me joy to watch him read it.

Sister Mary Mollianne’s Gift is a book written for my mother, about my mother by Marty Bibee. This sweet book explores the kind, caring, loving nature of my mother, Mollianne. I have always been blessed to know this part of my mother, and now it has been shared to all who read this book. This was the only book I considered when searching for a book to tell about my mother, and all I had to do to get a copy was call my sweet mom.

My oldest son and my father share a common interest, space. My son, Malcolm, has his heart set on being a rocket scientist while my father, Ed, is a rocket engineer. Malcolm dazzle’s me with his ever expanding knowledge of all things space. Ed has me begging to know what he is doing for work. The Planets in our Solar System by Franklyn M. Branley is a factual book about the planets. The specific content of this book plays little role in why I chose this book. I chose this book to represent the common bond shared between my dad and son.

My youngest son, Sean, is a child filled with laughter. He laughs at jokes; he laughs at life; and he laughs at himself. This child can find humor in any situation and he wants to share it with everyone he knows. One of his favorite forms of humor is jokes. He loves jokes no matter how awful they are. He loves to tell jokes, but he isn’t very good at it. He messes up the delivery and almost always forgets the punch line, but that doesn’t stop him. It was rather hard to pick a book that showed this side of my son until I started going through our bookshelves. When I saw D.J. Macaw’s Joke Book by Mary Ellen Sias, I knew that I had found the perfect book. The content of the book isn’t that great, the illustrations leave a lot to be desired, but the intent and desire of the book to bring joy is a perfect fit for Sean.

When I started going through my bookshelves to find a book for me, one book in particular kept calling my name. I tried to find another, but my mind kept going back to this one. Scarlet Monster Lives Here by Marjorie Weinman Sharmat is a book that I treasure from my childhood that still teaches me important lessons today. It is a gentle reminder that to have a friend, you must be a friend. That people will like you despite your flaws. And that friendship comes in all shapes and sizes. Even as an adult with children of my own, it’s good to be reminded of these things from time to time.


What I leaned about myself while doing this project is all wrapped up in my final book selection. Counting Blessings by Debby Boone reminds me to always count my blessings. While my life can be crazy, chaotic, and out of control, I have true blessings in the people I hold closest. This people enrich my life and make me feel loved every day. The blessings in my life are too numerous to count, but I can always start with my family.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Roles of Importance



There's this thing, this idea, that's been swimming around in my head for quite a while now. I've tried to ignore it, tried to write around it. But whatever this idea is, it's been keeping me from writing about anything else. I haven't been able to concentrate on any thought long enough to do anything with it. Except for the one, overwhelming thought that creeps into every space of my life. I swear that I've written that blog a hundred times in my head, hoping that would be enough to squelch the thought so I could move on. And it's not like it's some amazing, thought provoking, wonderfully amusing thing rattling around in here. It's more like a no duh why are you even bothering with it kind of a thought. But it is my thought. And I have to think it's of some value, if for no other reason then to clear my head. So here goes. Annie thoughts and Annie feelings, with the truth as I see it.

It seems kinda of silly saying it aloud, but it just very recently occurred to me just how important the role of fathers are in our lives. Not just my life, but in everyone I know. I'm not saying that mom's haven't influenced our lives, but I never really realized just how much fathers do. I know that I have had lots of issues with fathers, but I thought it was just my burden. I know better now.

It really hit me when I started thinking about my boys and the influence fathers have played in their lives. At such young ages, I already see how their lives are being molded by fathers. Nothing is simple or easy in our family regarding fathers. That's just not our style.

Mac has an odd relationship with father. His biological father has been a constant role in his life. He's been the fun dad who gets to love a well behaved, no problems kind of Mac. Mac loves that father, but I've never seen respect, no real impact on who my child is or wants to be. It's been an up and down relationship with his stepfather, my husband, Forest. Mac loves him but still feels a loyalty to his father. And Forest loves him, some days for no other reason than Mac is my son. They are both learning the difference between the father who is there every day and the one who isn't. Mac sees the difference in loving your family because they are family and choosing to love someone and making them family by watching his fathers. Mac's 11 almost 12 little years have already shown him that family is who takes care of you and he has learned this through his fathers and through the wonderful influence of his grandfather.

Sean's relationship with father has been a little more sorrowful. Sean's father died of leukemia before he was even 2. So he has nothing but my memories to go by and I never thought I'd have to remember it all. Instead of ever being bitter or hateful about losing his father, Sean has instead pulled fatherly attention towards him in amazing ways. Sean is loved more deeply by his grandfather and stepfather than I believe a biological father could love. I know and love this child, but the love he shares with these two men is a truly awesome thing to behold. Sean has learned from his fathers that love exists with whomever you choose to share it with.

I've watched my husband struggle with how father has shaped his life. He lost his father almost 25 years ago and he still mourns every day, but he won't talk about his father. He idealizes his father and tries to make himself in his father's image, never seeing that the image might be flawed. The way he chooses to father is based on these memories and is frustrating and wonderful and filled with good intention and with love. And it's not just the way he decides to be a father. It's every part of his life. His relationship with everyone. It's really hard to watch someday's. My husband's struggle with how to be a man has been molded by his relationship with his father.

My life has been shaped over and over again by father. I've had ups and down, maybe more downs than ups. I have at times let the idea of father consume my life. I've been lulled to a peaceful sleep by father and been kept awake tormented nights by father. I loved father and I've hated father. I could never ignore father. I have two fathers. One I have recently chosen to be friends with and one who now takes care of me and tells me that he's proud of me which something I've always wanted from father. My relationship with fathers lead me to many of the decisions I've made in life, both good and bad. I've spent a good deal of my life looking for father.

And there is one that I've constantly overlooked. The Father that I couldn't run away from even when I tried. The Father I couldn't hide from no matter where I was. The Father who was always there even when I thought I didn't want Him. The Father who always wanted me. It has never mattered to Father if I'm good or bad, right or wrong, He loves me no matter what. This seems like simple stuff but it's very hard for me some days. I try everyday to give control over to my Father, because I know He'll take care of me. I'm learning everyday that God, my heavenly Father, is enough.

My earnest prayer is that the relationship with my Father shapes my life and the life of all those I love more than anything else ever will. I pray that we give our lives to this Father. I pray that we all know just how much this Father loves us and what wonderful things He will do in our lives. I pray that He is the one that will mold my life most.

One of these days, I'll quit looking for father. I will be able to accept who my Father is and what He wants for me. Hopefully sooner than later.

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

What can I say?


I'm blonde.

And I'm not just talking about haircolor.

Oh no, my friend, blonde is not just color.

Blonde is a state of mind. Or state of being in some cases.

You must admit that you've known someone who has acted in the blonde manner whose hair was of another color. Maybe you're even guilty of it your self.

I just happen to be *lucky* enough to hair my hair match my personality. Blonde.

And I use it. As an excuse for misunderstandings-state of mind. To hide the gray's-haircolor. To excuse my silly or foolish behavior-state of mind. To summon cute boys-hahaha.

Forest says it's all because I just don't pay attention. When he says this, I smile, flip my hair, and get away with it.

Being blonde goes along well with my phonebooth mentality.

But let me tell you about my latest blonde-scapade.

It's almost time for classes to start. I'll be in the second half of my junior year! I'm very excited about this! So, I go online to check on my status and make sure financial aid was working right. Course, I've been checking this at least once a day everyday since we got out of classes for the Christmas break. About a month. So, they finally have the information posted. It's time, it's time, I get to see how much money I'm getting back this semester after all tuition has been paid! (Not really concerned with my status, I know where I stand.) So I pull up all the information, and I'm furious!

Not only am I not getting back what I thought I would be, my tuition has gone up!! What is wrong with this stupid school?!!

I start calling, scheduling appointments, emailing the financial aid department! Someone had better answer me! Who decided that they could raise my tuition without consulting me?! (Still furious, as you can see.) This is a big honking deal! I took out a flippin' student loan to ensure that I would get enough money back to pay for books, and help with gas! This isn't fair.

Then, while I was patiently waiting to kick some butt, a thought occurred to me. It started slowly, I ignored it because it made me feel so inept, and then I voiced this thought.

"Maybe you're tuition is higher because you're taking more classes this semester."

And dang if that wasn't true.

So I started make phone calls, cancelling appointments, sending out emails, using my best excuse.

"Oops! I'm blonde! What can I say?"





Saturday, January 2, 2010

Expectations?



It happened again.

It happens every year. Without fail.

But somehow it always still surprises me.

For some reason, I expect that the "new year" should somehow look different from the old year. Kinda like you expect to feel different on your birthday.

But a new year is new for everyone and so it should look different. Sparkles in the air. Twinkling trees. Colorful, bright, shiny and new!

But when I opened the door for the first time in 2010, nothing was different. It didn't even feel different outside. It was still cold, brown, and dead looking.

I know it's a silly thought, but it should be different!

Something ought to have changed.

But year after year, it's always still the same.

I change, I'm different, why can't the new year?

I'm smart. I realize that the calendar year is something that was created by humans to mark the passing of time.

But there's that part of me that really expects the new year to look or feel different!

And birthday's are the same way!

I am officially a year older as of November 7th, but 29 feels exactly like 28 did! I ask my kids on their birthday, "Do you feel older?" And the answer is always no!

So then why in the world do we celebrate new years and birthdays?

We don't feel any different, it looks the same the next day, and it takes a lot of time for any change to happen!

Maybe it makes us feel better to have the celebrations.

Maybe we need to have these "happy" times to make us feel better about time slipping so quickly away.

I haven't found an answer. Not one that I like anyway.

So for the next 363 days I'll write 2010 where it's asked for and I'll put 29 down where I should.

But I'm still looking to find the change.