In a Manor of Speaking

This:

I'd say it's stretching it to call the Clubhouse of the apartment complex a "manor".

Seriously, though, I never realized that it was common to mix up "manner" and "manor" until I saw this sign and laughingly showed this picture to a friend, who proceeded to tell me all sorts of stories about its misuse.


Also, yesterday, while at the grocery store, I was contemplating getting a watermelon and looking at some expensive organic ones when Pretty Boy looked at me and asked for his bottle, pronounced "Ba..chm"  (The chm is more like a nose/throat noise) (It's ridiculously hard to copy.  Where does he learn these phonemes?)  I gave him a weird look, asked his mom why he would be asking for it in the grocery store - he only gets them right before bed - and walked away to go pick out a non-organic, cheaper watermelon.  Upon returning, with the small basketball sized personal watermelon tucked under my arm, Pretty Boy's eyes lit up and he asked for his bottle again.  I looked down at the watermelon when he said it again.  And that's when I realized he was saying "Ba"  (no chm) which is his word for ball.  Hahaha.    When I put it down next to him later, he was shocked to find it too heavy to pick up.

Without Words

Two poems: 

The world is less today

                    than it was yesterday.  

Yesterday,

              there was laughter and hope and life.             

Today,

        there is grieving and sorrow.  No words 

           can express how much a loved one matters, 

can express how much a loved one matters to a loved one.

Tomorrow, tomorrows after tomorrow, the world will be more.

Just not today.  

~ EM Reed

I think that feelings are rather like balloons.  

You can sense them growing and growing inside your heart,

With a breath, it's filled the cavity in your chest,

And another, adrenaline bursts through your veins, 

Expanding, expanding until Boom! 

However, a heart will not burst even if it breaks.  

In the void of joy, grief rushes in, 

Filling in all the spaces until you're overwhelmed.

In time, the joy will return, and fill places of the heart that did not exist

Before the grief stretched it and expanded it.  

 

~ EM Reed

I am sorry for the loss of my friends' parents today.  My prayers are with you.  

Conversations

Some recent conversations in my life:

Baby: I like your water bottle.  Can I borrow it?
Me: No, sorry.  I'm actually borrowing that water bottle from a friend.  I can't lend it to you.
Baby:  <smiling> Can I keep it?
Me: Hahaha, no sorry.
Baby: <laughing> Can I steal it?
Sister: She's quite proud of herself for learning what these words mean.


Me: Maybe you need an Aaron to be a spokesperson for you.  (referencing Moses)
Friend: Have you ever met a technical person as good with words as I am?
Me: Oh yeah, good point.


Judy and Berlin are singing church children's songs: Hello (Jello), Popcorn Popping, You've Had a Birthday, etc.
Me: You two have learned so many songs in Primary!  Do you sing any songs about Jesus?
Judy and Berlin: Noooo


After acting out the story of Ruth and Boaz, in which my two students acted out getting engaged to each other
S: <joking> I totally have a huge crush on J.
J: <embarrassed> I don't want to marry a girl who is taller than I am.  S, come over here, how tall are you?
P: I have a crush on three people: Me, Myself and I.


P: When a girl asks me to go to prom one day, I'm going to tell her, 'sorry, I'm already taking my mom.'
(Which is so cute from a 10 year old boy but I have a feeling he'll change his tune when he's 17.)

Go Hoos

Pretty Boy's dad likes to make animal noises for his son.  For some reason, Pretty Boy really started latching onto the sound the owl makes and so for a couple of weeks, he and I would share, "hoo, hoo, hoo" across the table from each other until one or both of us - usually both of us - burst out laughing.

I wasn't content to just let it go at that so I started to encourage him, "Wahoowa," I would say after our "hoo" exchanges.  I did this for a few weeks.  Then, one day, he repeated it.  His mother overheard, was overjoyed and has been trying to get it on camera ever since.

I proudly told his Lovey (grandmother) that Pretty Boy now said "Wahoowa" and when she heard him, she was so happy for him that Pretty Boy just soaked in the attention.  (She also immediately tried to get him to say, "Hokies" but that's a different discussion entirely)

I state this on my blog because I consider this one of my finest accomplishments in being Pretty Boy's friend.  His parents already hold three degrees from UVa between the two of them and soon (ish) they will hold four.  I only thought it fitting that their baby show his Cavalier pride.

What is Beautiful?

I found this video yesterday.  I was really impressed.

Colbie Caillat's Try


The women in the video go from perfect make-up jobs to (nearly) naked faces.  They go from beautiful, even stunning to people with freckles, blemishes, wrinkles and yet I would argue they are just as beautiful.  In fact, I marveled at how many different types of beauty there are and can be.

So inspired, I showed the video to a couple of friends.

After the video, one of them said, "I don't understand the message of this song.  What is so wrong about trying to look your best?  Shouldn't we want to put effort into our appearance? Why not exercise and keep yourself in shape?"

I stared at my friend, a million thoughts running through my head and yet none of them found utterance. I think I stuttered out a word, "B..b..but..."  And then stopped.  My other friend spoke up, "That's not the message of the song."  We left it at that.

Except I can't leave it at that.  I have a lot of questions by my friend's response.

(1) What does it mean to be beautiful in our society?  What efforts do we put in to make ourselves beautiful?  Are these efforts beneficial to who we are, inside and out?

(2) Are we mis-attributing differences as flaws when it comes to the definition of beautiful?  Do we encourage women to change their flaws or learn to accept them?  Is one method better?

(3) Are there different expectations for beauty between men and women?  Is there spoken/unspoken expectation regarding beauty from the other gender?

(4)  What is the line between accepting yourself and desiring to improve yourself?

(5) At what point are all of our thoughts regarding beauty, acceptance, etc simply reflections of society?  If we were to look at "beautiful" from other cultures, time periods, etc, would we find those concepts so absolutely foreign to us that we would actually find them ugly?

Anyone have any answers?

As for me, there are many moments in my life when I look in the mirror and I like what I see.  I like my eyes.  I like my thick, dark curls.  I like my body.  I like myself.  But when it comes to the world and the image of beauty that is impressed on my mind, I wonder if I will be the only one in my life who finds me pretty and instead, I feel horribly mistaken.  I was never beautiful, I think.  Efforts I make to be beautiful just leave me feeling like I'm putting a lot of effort to still not look beautiful.  Do I need to change myself?  How do I change myself?  Or do I simply change my attitude towards myself and towards how I think other perceive me?

Pictures from the Weekend

Courtesy of my sister

I painted Gwiyomi's big toes blue.  She was the most patient baby.  She remained still the entire time it took to dry.  

Gwiyomi the zombie monster

Gwiyomi cheesing for the camera.  Baby is admiring her own pink nails

My sister kept exclaiming, "I am the puzzle master!"  She had a knack for putting the right piece in the right place.

Gwiyomi meets the water park.  She spent much of her time walking over to water spouts that turned off just as she got to them.  I spent much of that time giggling over her poor timing.  

And Now a Word from Our Sponsors

Do you remember when I had weird dreams?  And scary dreams?  And boring dreams?  That's nothing compared to my latest stint in sleep adventures.

Yesterday, after work, I went home, intending to go running and instead I fell asleep.  And had some weird dream that I couldn't clearly remember when I woke up.

BUT I did remember the commercials that my brain took from my dreams.  That's right.  My brain took a break from my scheduled dream (which involved me being chased by something, I'm pretty sure of it) to give me an ad for men's razors.  Later on, a different ad came on for diaper rash cream (it was actually a commercial with world-saving snails who needed their days saved with the cream - don't ask me why it was snails).

I woke up shaking my head in disbelief not only at the advertisements but for the fact that my subconscious didn't even get the target audience right.

Seriously, brain.  What are you thinking?