Twilight Baby

Okay, so I think I'm probably one of maybe two women left on the planet who have not read the Twilight series. Nothing against vampires...or Mormons...or books...or all things popular, but I just haven't got around to it till now. (I've been a little preoccupied over the last few months!)

But, since Josh had to do some of his pursuing-his-masters-in-apologetics-high-brow-homework reading tonight, I thought I would take the opportunity...to read Twilight...to Matilda.

This is another beautiful thing about newborns - they don't really care what you are doing as long as you are within sight and talking in a soothing voice. Matilda is often happy and calm (yes, I am counting my blessings) so I snuggled up with her on the glider in her nursery and propped up the bestseller for our entertainment.

I read to her with great inflection, my voice illuminating the world of Bella and the mysterious Edward. We're only one chapter in (my vocal chords can only take so much reading out loud) but I think she's a fan. I'm curious to see what emotional turmoil and drama Bella will get herself into. Yes, I saw the movie - but I've been hearing all about the teenage angst the book offers and I'm wondering if I will have difficulty keeping my reading voice at an entertaining baby-level if the book turns too after-school-special-with-vampires-ish. We'll see.

I think this is a wonderful vocal warm-up for many books to come. I don't know if we'll make it all the way through the Twilight series, but I certainly love reading to my baby girl. I can almost see her brain waves expanding as she listens intently to my voice. I hope the beauty of storytelling is seeping into her ears and making their way into her imagination one word at a time.

I can still remember my mother reading the Little House on the Prairie books to me when I was a child. I was obsessed. I loved hearing about Laura Ingalls and her adventures in the Big Woods or in Walnut Grove or wherever they were pioneering at the time. It wasn't until junior high that I discovered there was a tv show based on the books, and watched it every day after school on PBS. If there was a Little House equivalent to today's Lord-of-the-Rings-World-of-Warcraft-Battlestar-Gallactica-geekazoids...I was it. Cute, right?

I wonder what obsessions Matilda will fall into...what characters will she get sucked into the lives of....what books will she sneak a flashlight under the covers to stay up late and finish reading long after bedtime?

Of course, one of the books I know I will have to read to her is "Matilda" by Roald Dahl, one of my very favorite authors of all time. If you've never read the book, it is a Dahl classic (and later made into a movie). While I'm a fan, no, Matilda was not named after the book. Afterall, on the back cover of the novel it is described as "a story about a clever girl with stupid parents".

Hmm, we're hopefully not stupid...but I'm not counting on winning any awards for reading Twilight to my four-month-old. Still, she'll be way ahead on her knowledge of pop-culture.

Gold Medal Memories

Tonight is the night women around the globe look forward to every four years - a night their husbands loath - tonight is the final round of the women's Olympic figure skating! Why do we love this sport so much? The rest of the year I honestly never watch, never keep up with, and never even think about figure skating...until the Winter Olympics arrive. Just like the "gymnastics fever" we get when the Summer Olympics come around - there is just something about figure skating that women love.

Is it the grace and beauty of the skater gliding across the ice? Is it the terrifying-yet-amazing feat of a human pointing her toe over her head while spinning? Or is it just the fact that deep down inside each female, there is a secret and quiet voice saying "I could've done that if..."?

Maybe a little of everything.

For me there is just something totally nostalgic about watching it. One of my earliest memories is visiting my grandparents in Texas and watching the 1984 Winter Olympics. I remember eating Rocky Road ice cream in my jammies and being totally captivated by the skaters. Scott Hamilton was shocking us with each back flip he would make. It was also the "year of the Brians" as Brian Orser and Brian Boitano competed. And, who could forget Katarina Witt? I can still picture her bright red lips and red and black outfit she wore when she took gold - back when there was an "East" Germany to be represented. I remember that the commentators would criticize her size - that she wasn't as lithe and tiny as the usual ice princesses that skated - but I didn't care. She was like a Barbie doll to me (well, a very brunette, German-speaking Barbie doll).

Through the years we have watched with amazement - cheering on the world's best - and for one week every four years, everyone you talk to knows who your talking about when you say names like "Oksana" or bring up the long-forgotten drama of "Nancy and Tonya". Remember that?

So - who do you think will get the gold tonight? Will America keep a spot on the medal platform - or will we have to bow to another country and wait four more years?

I honestly don't even have a favorite. I think that's one of the more beautiful things about the sport. As a spectator, it is lovely and entertaining just to watch. We wait for the scores and hope for the best - but it is easy to forget it is a competition when you're untrained eye can't tell the difference between a triple axle and a triple flip. And really, unless they fall flat on their rears I can hardly ever tell if one of them makes a mistake. Of course - Scott Hamilton's overbearing and enthusiastic commentary will be sure you don't miss a beat ("OH! She settled for the double instead of the triple! That'll cost her!")

Either way - it will be an enjoyable night.

I might even have to get out the Rocky Road just for the occasion.

Early Bird

This morning I had to be at work at 6:30am for a very atypical morning film shoot (I work in the video department of marketing at a university). I had planned ahead as best I could - lunch packed, clothes laid out, and most importantly...went to bed early. Josh had class till late and Tilda fell asleep at 9pm, so I decided to take a page out of her book and try to catch some early zz's myself.

It wasn't a great night, she was up at 12, 3, and 5am for quick night feedings. Then, after 5am she decided she'd had her fill of sleep and food and just wanted to be awake...talking...loudly. So, poor Josh had to also get up at that ungodly hour and snuggle the cute talkamaniac until she drifted off back to sleep - by which time I was long gone, on my way to work and trying to trick my brain into wakefulness with each sip of my decaf.

As I made it through the day, I seriously started doubting the benefit of my go-to-bed-early logic. Turns out, you just can't displace sleep no matter how hard you try. I mean, I don't even want to know what state I would have been in if I hadn't gone to bed early - but even so, nothing can make up for those lost hours.

Why is that?

It works in any other part of life! Calories in - calories out. Money in - money out. Gasoline in - gasoline out. You put in extra, you take out extra and so on and so forth...tit for tat if you will. Then it dawned on me: sleep is dependent upon TIME...and that, you just can't make up for.

Food, money, gas...any thing you can replace in life. You can get more of it, lose it, give it away, but time, just like sleep, can't be stored up for later. Use it or lose it, so they say. Or better yet - you snooze you lose...literally!

I always tried "sleep displacement" in college too. It seemed to work at the time, but my schedule was inundated with naps and highly caffeinated breaks. When I was finishing my degree in Tennessee I would even sleep on the grass or in the back of my car whenever I had the chance. If I didn't think it would get me fired (or at the very least some strange looks) I might be tempted to try that even today! Some days I will walk by students basking in the Southern California sunshine and look longingly at the freedom they take for granted now.

But alas, now I am a grown up. I've exchanged my lawn naps for meetings and my caffeinated lunches for a bagged lunch in the women's nursing lounge. But, you know - even if I could hold on to time, I wouldn't go back to those days. I wouldn't even store up sleep if I had the chance (don't ask me this at three in the morning!) I think I would just like to have a time-slower-downer-dial instead - slowing down the moments I know are most fleeting. The quick little smirks in the morning from Miss Talky Pants, for example. Now that - that I would store up and slip in my pocket and carry with me to relive again and again the rest of my life.

Some things are worth getting up early for - work just ain't one of em.

No Place Like Home

Today I went to a meeting to discuss our university's study abroad programs. We were getting excited about the opportunities that are being offered and throwing around all kinds of jargon like "cross-cultural experience" and "global impact" etc. One of the Professors mentioned how he recently met a visiting family from the midwest who kept commenting on our warm weather and how shocked they were to meet such nice people in California.

"Oh, I'm not surprised," I said. "I first came here from the middle of Kansas and had the same reaction upon my first visit."

"Where in Kansas?" he asked.

Now, I don't know how many zillion times I've been asked this in my life. It always plays out the same way...

I say, "Um, south of Salina?" and they shake their head and mention how they once knew someone who knew someone from Kansas City or Wichita maybe. Then they ask "What town?" and I say "Yeah, no town...like, really no town. Maybe Lyons?" and they still shake their head and shrug. Oh well.

Not today.

He says, "Sure, Salina...where exactly?"

"Like, Lyons?"

"Yeah...you've probably never heard of Lorraine though, have you?"

"Um...yes. You are kidding? I grew up 5 miles from Lorraine! It was my bus stop!"

Now, this might not mean a lot to you people from Suburbia, America or Metropolis, USA...but, this has never happened to me, ever. Just to give you perspective - here is an aerial google image of the farm I grew up on.

As you can see...there ain't nothin around it.

Several people claim to "be from Kansas" when they really mean "I spent part of 7th grade in Kansas City" (which is ironically mostly in Missouri). But, this guy not only knew the area - he knew the people! Turns out his dad was the pastor of a local church back in the sixties and seventies and he spent a better part of his childhood hanging out with many of the future parents of my friends.

**Cue Twilight Zone Music Now**

He started rattling off names of local farmers and listing the locations of homesteads even I hadn't heard of in years. We bewildered my co-workers as we referred to the area in "sections of land", "east and west" and according to "county lines".

He mentioned that his elementary class consisted of 2 people and I ensured him that the population boom of the eighties and nineties bolstered my graduating high school class to a whopping total of 16.

And yet, here we are. Both working at the same university thousands of miles from a spot on a map seemingly untouched by time in our memories. What's more...we're talking about student's opportunities to get out and see the world and explore other cultures.

**Cue It's a Small World Music Now**

I've always been a proud Kansan, a proud farmer's daughter, a proud mid-western all-American kid...but, I've always told the stories of Kansas to people who just nod and picture a smaller version of their own childhood town. I don't get to go back home as often as I would like to. I'm looking forward to bringing Matilda to the farm someday soon and introducing her to terms such as "combine" and "oil well quarter". I didn't always appreciate the details of my childhood while I was living them (Lord knows there was a time I would've sold my left arm to have a neighbor) but I'm so glad to have had that experience.

I certainly love living in California and taking advantage of all it has to offer. But, sometimes it is fun to reminisce and remember...there's no place like home.