Chaotic.

Yesterday was my first primary activity as the 2nd counselor in primary. This meant that I was in charge (* cue the intense orchestral music and a staggered zoom-in affect of the camera). Aaaahhhhh! You'd think that planning and carrying out an activity for up to 60 children would be cake, but it was actually a lot of work.  Even more intense than the work was the stress of knowing that if it ended horribly it was due to my poor planning. I'm still processing all the ways it could have gone better. The plan was good, but unfortunately I didn't think of everything... like how the older boys would be rough and competitive, or how some of the activities would take longer than the others in the rotation, or how some kids would sneak into the kitchen to eat cookies. But now I'm more experienced, and those kids won't know what hit them next time. I will be ready for their antics. Ha! Overall, I think the kids did have fun and perhaps they did get some good from it. We talked about what life was like when Jesus lived on the Earth. We talked about how he learned and taught from the scriptures. The kids played "Scripture Story Pictionary". We talked about what people wore. The kids did a "Race of Robes" where they had to get dressed in a tunic, robe and headdress as fast as possible and then take them off and tag the next team mate. We talked about when Jesus called his apostles and invited them by saying, "Come with me and I will make you fishers of men". The kids made a little paper fish that had the scripture written on the back. The activity ended with cookies and a slide show with pictures from Jerusalem. The secretary (who has been in primary for awhile) seemed to think it was a success (or she was being nice). When I got home, I let Braden and Jade wrestle and play in the front room and I just collapsed on the couch and took a power nap. I really love my calling to work with the children in the ward, but sometimes it can be absolutely and exhaustively chaotic.

Painted-Nails Girl

Growing up I was never really a super girly girl. Not like Jade. Don't get me wrong, I played with Barbies and Poly Pockets and my favorite color was pink for quite a few years, but I also grew up between 2 brothers. This meant I also enjoyed playing in the dirt with Tonka trucks, building horse corrals and pirate ships out of Legos, and wearing ugly T-shirts. By the time I'd reached high school, I was pretty far from feminine in appearance. It was the mid-90's and my daily uniform was a pair of baggy jeans and a T-shirt in blue or yellow. Pair this with my skate shoes, my straight across bobbed hair, and my utter lack of curves and I was the poster child for non-girly girls everywhere. Luckily, my mother had convinced me that tweezing my eyebrows was necessary (those Beach genetics run strong in the eyebrow department), so I didn't look like a boy completely. Fast forward a few years and I started caring a little more. I tried to do something different to my hair by letting it grow. I wore makeup (in small amounts) at least 3 days a week. I kept on faithfully tweezing those eyebrows, and I started wearing more fitted clothes. I think I even bought some heels. One thing I rarely ever did, though was paint my nails. If I ever painted my finger nails it looked so weird to me and I felt like I was trying too hard. Toenails seemed a little better, so I'd paint them a couple times a year. There was just something about it... Painting nails seemed soooo frivolous. It took so much time and wore off so quickly. Besides, I cut my nails short to play guitar anyway. I must have been pretty judgmental because I actually looked down on people who consistently got their nails done.  I labeled them as a girl who cared too much about her appearance or someone who was high maintenance. I took this belief with me into our marriage. I painted my nails with simple white french tips for our special day, but once I chipped all that off, it went back to naked nails for me. Fast forward again to when I was about 24.5. I was under a lot of stress and something started happening. My finger nails started having problems. They started separating from the nail bed and dying. Ugh. It was ugly, but even worse, it made my nails sensitive and they hurt. My dad had experienced this problem since he was in his early 20's and had tried many different treatments to correct the problem but none had worked. About the time I started having this problem, research led us to suspect that it was not a fungal infection (as he had previously thought), but that it was possibly psoriasis of the nail. This would make more sense; it is a genetic condition, it can worsen with stress and sun exposure, and it is difficult to diagnose when regular psoriasis is not present. Anyway, I noticed that the psoriasis would flare up more when I was out in the sun a lot, so I needed to figure out a solution.  Living in AZ, I was not going to escape the sun, but I could cover my nails. Hey, they were ugly anyway, right? So, I started painting my nails regularly. When the nail polish started to chip away, I'd take it off and paint some more on. I kept my nails painted for a long time and the problem began to disappear. My "treatment" had worked! And I learned something... I liked having pretty nails. Even though my toenails had not been affected by my condition, I chose to paint them too. I didn't even mind how long it took. It was kind of a relaxing activity. So fast forward to the present day. My nail psoriasis doesn't bother me much anymore. But I think I'm a changed girl.  I confess that tonight was the third time this week that I was in my bathroom painting my nails. I like it now! So judge me if you will... serve me my own medicine. Call me high maintenance and vain. But tonight I've come to a conclusion. I am officially a painted-nails girl.

The Good Life

Well, Braden and I have both begun to adjust to school. Braden had a rough and grumpy first week, but this week has been quite good so far. Today his teacher called and they are moving him to a different class that is at a faster pace. I am glad for him. He started crying when I told him because he loves his teacher and he doesn't want to leave his friends. I know he will be fine and that a faster-paced class will be better for him.
I have had the decorating bug lately and our bedroom is looking cooler and cooler (at least to me). I can't wait to be done in there and post some pictures. The funny thing about decorating on the cheap is that every creative idea I get requires lots of labor. Sometimes I don't have the time to do everything so the list of what I'd like to do just keeps getting longer. Right now I'd like to paint the bathroom cabinets, frame out the bathroom mirror, paint (yes, I said paint) and sew some custom curtains, make a DIY "kissing pleat" duvet cover, sew some throw pillows, paint a custom rug, create some wall art out of bird identification books, and create some large paper mache monograms. Having only one kids at home has simplified things, however, I need to take more time to play with little bored Jade. Braden really was a blast to have around. The poor girl doesn't know how to play by herself. I'm sure she'll learn. I'm pretty boring. I thought about putting Jade in preschool, but I decided to wait until second semester. She's in dance right now and I really don't think she needs to be gone more than that at this point. I love having her at home with me. She talks all day long and it's so fun to hear what she comes up with. She is such a joy. I feel so blessed. I'm seriously living the good life.

Harder Than I Thought it Would Be

The kids must have been excited this morning because I heard the pitter-patter upstairs above our bed around 6am. Today is Braden's first day of Kindergarten. He got up early and ate some Cheerios with Jade and I. Then he said, "Can I please get a shower now?" He already had set out clothes last night, so he got a shower, brushed his teeth and was ready in no time. He looked so handsome in his non-holey jeans (one of only 2 pair) and his little polo-styled shirt. I spent some time getting Jade and myself ready. We still had a lot of time before we needed to leave. I didn't want to get there too early. So we dorked around for a few minutes playing a shark game on Spencer's iPod.  Then we took a couple of pictures and headed out.

I guess I should have left earlier because when we arrived at the school I saw that they had all the cars weaving through the parking lot to get to the drop-off zone. This was not what I was expecting and it took a good 6 minutes. During this time I was trying to figure out where I was supposed to be and paying attention to the cones and people in the parking lot. I asked Braden if he remembered where his classroom was to which he replied, "I think so." After that I was distracted by driving and finally we reached the drop-off area. He bounded out of his seat and out the door. I quickly snapped some shots of the moment as he confidently strode onto campus. Now, I was expecting a teacher's aid to be at the drop-off zone guiding the children to where they needed to go. They did have a guy out there in an attractive orange vest, but Braden just walked on by him with purpose and direction in his stride. By the time I realized that nobody was leading him, it was too late. All I could do was watch him walk away. I kept visual contact to make sure he at least turned onto the sidewalk that led to the Kindergarten area and then he was gone from my view. I wasn't expecting to feel what I felt next. It felt like someone had ripped a piece of me away. I have no idea if he made it to where he was supposed to be. And if he didn't would anyone miss him? What if he just wandered away and nobody noticed? I wanted to cry, but Jade was sobbing in the backseat saying, "I want my Braden-y" so I needed to be strong. This resulted in me feeling like I was going to throw up. I made it home composed enough on the outside. Spencer was home about to hop in the shower and I grabbed him for one of his cure-all bear hugs. I told him I was worried that Braden hadn't made it to his classroom and then the flood gates opened. I started bawling and super-giant-sized tears started rolling down my cheeks. Spencer told me that he'd be fine and that if he was lost, the teachers would ask him his name and get him to the right class. I guess I just need to have a little faith. The ironic thing is that I've always said that I wouldn't feel sad at all when my Braden buddy started school.  He thrives in settings like that. He's ready. I'm ready for him to be occupied during the day. Jade is ready to start gaining some independence. It's a win-win-win situation, but it's harder than I thought it would be.

Years to Come

Seven years ago on this day, I was in my condo with my cousins getting ready to be married. They were drying my hair and fixing it up and I was just getting antsy to go. I didn't really care that my hair was still wet. My Dad called me that morning and told me in a regretful voice that he wished that there had been time to talk the night before. I suppose he was getting a little sentimental about his daughter starting a new family. I put on my simple yet beautiful wedding gown and my inexpensive jewelry and waited. I guess Spencer and I didn't believe in not seeing each other before the wedding, because he picked me up to take me to the temple. I remember he asked me if I was nervous and I said "no". I asked him and he said "a little".  If we had known then what we know now, I'm not sure if that wedding would have taken place.  I'm sure glad we didn't know. Our life together has not been simple. That being said, the trials we have gone through together ended up making our bond stronger.  Lately things have been better for us and we've had a chance to breathe and re-discover each other. As we change and as time goes by I hope we will constantly be re-discovering each other. As I think about seven years, it seems so long. Have we really been married that long? I'm glad that we are married and that I have Spencer to help me be a better person. When we aren't both being stubborn, we balance each other very well.  I look forward to many more good years to come.

My Crazy Brothers and My Sane Sister!

Just for fun, I thought I'd share some of the awesome "sibling" pictures we took for my mother. This included all the Beach kids and their families. It was a promised Mother's Day gift that we decided to do after little Xelly was born. Keep in mind, most these were done using the tripod and self-timer method. Not the most ideal way to shoot photos, but luckily a couple of them turned out well. The ones of just the Beach kids were taken by Spencer.  I love my crazy brothers and my sane sister!

Operating on Bribes.

I know I'm a big grown-up now and have been for quite some time, but occasionally I feel like I have to treat myself like a little child. I have talked about my lists on here before. Making lists helps me to remain true to the good intentions I have at the beginning of my day or my week. I like to cross things off. I'm not going to say I'm happier when the list gets crossed off, but I am a lot more comfortable with myself when I've done a lot of productive things. (I'm working on measuring my personal value separately from my productivity, but that's a whole different blog). That being said, there are times when I don't want to do my list. I'd rather do something else. But, I have the responsibility of the list weighing on my mind and I know I will feel better after it's done. I will be more free to do things I enjoy more. That's when I start treating myself like a child. I tell myself, "Ok. You can have a snack after the kitchen is cleaned." Or, "You can go to Savers after all the bathrooms have been washed." Or, "If you can get the house spotless today, than you can go do something fun with a friend tomorrow." I do the same kinds of things to motivate my children. Sometimes I wonder if I should have grown up by now and found more enjoyment through my common duties. Nope. I'm still operating on bribes.