Making Our Garden Grow

We sang a new piece at choir practice last night. It's called "Make Our Garden Grow" from "Candide" by Leonard Bernstein. As I was reading the words and listening to the beautiful harmonies, my eyes welled up and I realized it was all stabbing me right in the heart. Here are the words (but it's not the same without the music. To hear it, click HERE.)

You’ve been a fool and so have I
But let’s be man and wife.
And let us try before we die
To make some sense of Life

I thought the world was sugar-cake
For so our Master said.
But now I’ll teach my hands to bake
Our loaf of daily bread.

Let dreamers dream what worlds they please
Those Edens can’t be found.
The sweetest flow’rs, the fairest trees,
Are grown in solid ground.

We’re neither pure, nor wise, nor good;
We’ll do the best we know
We’ll build our house
And chop our wood,
And make our garden grow

I guess what got to me is how applicable this is with Steve and me and our little family. There's seldom anything grand or important about what we do every day. But we do it anyway and we try to spread some joy along the way.

But here's the real truth: we've come together, Steven and I, to try and plant our little seeds, build our home and make our way. We'll do the very best we can, whilst making a multitude of mistakes along the way. But in the end (and in the making, too) our little garden will be a paradise; if only because we made it together.

Warning: Extreme Personal and Self-Pitying Rant to Follow

HECK! DANG! FETCH! SHIBLON! AND EVERY OTHER MORMON CURSE WORD!

Why is it that every time I’ve tried to plan a date with my husband for the past FOUR MONTHS, it’s blown up miserably in my face? We’d tentatively planned a switch-off with my visiting brother and sister-in-law, but they completely misunderstood us and it’s not going to work. I am so DESPERATE to do something just by ourselves, but somehow it seems it will never be.

Now that Steven’s a 9-to-5er instead of a high school teacher, I see him considerably less. For the first time in our marriage, he’s gone for 12 hours of the day, and involved in all kinds of stuff that I don’t know anything about.

And I know it’s not a popular sentiment, but I feel like I'm significantly less interesting since I’ve become a stay-at-home mom, mostly because I suck at all those talents that so many of my excellent sisters excel at (spec. cleaning, cooking, making your house look fashionable, sewing, being nice to your children, etc).

I KNOW my job is important and I KNOW that it will matter most and reap the most rewards temporally and spiritually in the end. But that doesn’t change the fact that all the things that once made me feel talented, unique and independent while I was working are now reduced to the occasional and somewhat self-serving musical number at church.

Anyway, so I have less and less to talk to anyone about except for my kids. And you want to know the truth? The ugly, nasty, shame-on-you-Sister-Grundberg truth? I’m sick of my kids right now. I’m sick of being mediator and punisher and consoler and entertainer, and I’d really rather just sit down and have a nice laugh with someone who’s making hilarious or even intelligible comments.

One light at the end of the tunnel: Steven and I are going to be auditioning for the Bay Area Chorus on Monday. And I don’t care if we have to pay somebody $80 every week to watch the kids during rehearsal (um, okay, maybe $15). We’re doing it, because I’m so sick of looking at the inside walls of this house.

OLYMPICS!!!!!!!

I am moved beyond measure by the Olympics. No matter how much the cynics pan it as another commercial venue masquerading behind world unity; I'm still a sucker for the Olympic dream! One of the reasons I haven’t been very faithful about blogging is because I’m GLUED to the TV for the next two weeks. I’ve been watching every single event, and feel like I have an intimately personal relationship with every single athlete. (Obsessed? You decide).

I love watching the Opening Ceremonies. No one's lost yet; everyone's just thrilled about a free trip to China and filled with optimistic expectations of medals. I love seeing the absolute joy on those young, excited faces as they pile into the stadium. I get teary-eyed when I see all the athletes march in from all those little tiny countries like Micronesia or East Timor. And I love to see other countries, despite whatever global politics rule the day, cheer for the USA.

A few Olympic thoughts:

1) I get so emotional every time they do a vignette on an individual athlete. (I was just now in tears over the gymnast Shawn Johnson, and yesterday over Yang Wei). The realization of their aspirations is such the embodiment of the American Dream. Small town boy/girl (just like you or me), works hard day and night and eventually becomes world icon and national hero. There’s something so genuine and heartening about it.

2) What would it actually take to have bodies like these athletes? Not just a good-looking body (because goodness knows, sometimes the girls’ look a bit over-butch), but a body whose every muscle, every sinew is at maximum performance, and cultivated to function in the most efficient way possible. What would your diet REALLY be like? What kind of physical activity is really required to maintain such amazingly perfect form? This occupies my thoughts more than you’d think.

3)I want my boys to be athletic. Not because I expect them to get anywhere NEAR Olympic level, because honestly I think that kind of lifestyle would be nerve-wracking and extremely hard to maintain. But just so that they’ll have joy in using their bodies in an active way. And also because I’m so miserably unathletic that it’s embarrassing, and yes, maybe I’d like to live through them a little bit. But hey, if they end up uninterested or uncoordinated and instead become amazing chess-players of say, botanists, I’ll still be thrilled. I just feel as if I’ve missed out on that part of life…the part where exercise isn’t work, but recreation and enjoyment.

4)Tiny crush on Michael Phelps. Am I a tad old to have innocent crushes on 23 year old Olympians? Most definitely. But I can’t help it. He’s so goofy and awkward and yet so amazingly talented! 8 gold medals? Get out of town! So yes, tiny crush…but don’t tell Steven.

Shacks & Jitters

So here is our next residence from June 7th to Oct. 7th (notice the hurricane shutters on the windows). True, it’s a shanty, but a shanty that will house the Grundbergs while we scout out League City and make sure we actually want to live there. From all accounts, it seems like a pretty nice town. There’s just the one ward for the whole town (the League City Ward), and I’m just praying that it’s a good one. I’ve been horribly spoiled by 1st ward, so I’m not expecting too much.

I’m sick with nervousness and premature nostalgia. Did you ever have to switch schools midstream in junior high or high school? And you didn't know anybody, and you just wanted to hide in your bedroom closet and eat ice cream? Well, that was me in 9th grade, and it's happening all over again.

Plus we have this idiot talent/variety show on Friday and I just know it’s going to be a fiasco. I know, I know; I’m being a Debbie Downer today.

There Is a Reason

Well, the call came on Friday. Steven got the job, and we will be moving to Galveston the second week of June. I’m so full of excitement and happiness for Steve, because I know he’s going to be doing something he loves and I know he’ll do it well. I’ll also get to be close to my Dad, who’ve I’ve missed so much, as well as my bro & sis-in-law, Adam & Jess.

But my heart feels very sad, too. I want to leave with an adventurous heart, but I hate change and feel lonely and scared to start over again. I’ll miss the comfort and the familiarity of Arlington, and most of all I’ll miss my friends. You don’t even know how much all your friendship and kindness has meant to me this past year.

But President Hansen’s story today about the man who was asked to leave his fruit trees and farm and all his possessions to go and colonize another county filled me with hope. Not everything is about my needs and I really feel like the Lord wants us to go. It reminds me of a song by Alison Kraus that I love, called There Is a Reason. It goes like this:

Hurtin' brings my heart to You, a fortress in the storm
When what I wrap my heart around is gone
I give my heart so easily to the ruler of this world
When the one who loves me most will give me all

In all the things that cause me pain, give me eyes to see
I do believe but help my unbelief
I've seen hard times and I've been told
There is a reason for it all

But never fear…I promise to continue my endless rambling on this blog, and what’s more NOW everyone has a place to stay when they want to vacation in Galveston!

Jumping on the Bandwagon

I read this list on Kelli, Sarah & Shannon's blogs, and thought it was great, so I did it too.

maybe I should step away from the computer.
I love Steven so much I can barely stand it.
people would say that I’m loud and awkward.
I don’t understand why I can’t just do the things I should.
when I wake up in the morning I hear a cacophony of kid noise.
I lost a perfect black dress my last year in Provo, and it breaks my heart.
life is full of twists and turns.
my past is full of dumb preoccupations, triumphant moments, and heartbreak.
I get annoyed when there’s no milk for my cereal in the morning.
parties are scary when I first get there, and a blast by the time I have to leave.
I wish I had more discipline and money.
dogs are comforting, sweet and dirty.
cats are stuck-up and a bother.
tomorrow I'm going to try all over again.
I have low tolerance for back-biters and mean people.
I’m totally terrified of not being liked (how’s that for honest?)
I wonder why I care so much about what other people think.
never in my life have I smoked, drank or done drugs.
high school was all about singing.
when I’m nervous I talk too fast and interrupt people.
one time at a family gathering we had a huge beef dinner…oh wait, that’s every time.
take my advice: work hard, love God, forget yourself.
making my bed happens only on good days.
I'm almost always thinking of what I should have said.
I’m addicted to diet soda in a bad way.
I want someone to be a kindred spirit, like in Anne of Green Gables.

Yuck

Today I’m feeling restless. Like something’s not quite right. I’ve been impatient with my kids, I’ve been running from task to task and never quite finishing anything. I don’t want to do anything that needs to be done, but I’m bored at the same time. Anxious is the word, I guess. Like something’s lacking.

What’s brought on this strange mood? It hits me now and again, enough for me to recognize it as an actual “mood” and not how things really are. It’s just an overwhelming sense of all not being well in the world, particularly my little world. Now…how to get this little mood to hit the road, jack...

Premature Worrying

I’m more or less positive that my fitness accountability progress comprehensively disappeared this weekend. I don’t know for sure yet, but I’m predicting a positive integer in my little graph on Friday. Sigh…. Curse you, Dad, with your delicious barbecuing skills!

I've been sad today. I know I expressed the uncertainty of Steven’s getting hired on down in Galveston in a previous blog, but he now has an interview scheduled and the prospect's looking solid. And I know I shouldn’t count my chickens before they hatch, but I’ve been counting away, and the numbers seem high. And while it would be such a great opportunity for our financial growth, it would break my heart to leave my hometown again. But everyone has to grow up sometime, I suppose.

I was born in Arlington, I went to school here, I got married here and I’ve raised my little family here for 3 years. And just when the little things all start to fall into place and my kids and I are finally making friends and plans, the Lord smiles at me and says “Not so fast, Jenny,” and the path twists again.

I hate change. But it’s good for you right? Makes you stronger, all that good stuff?

Whatever.

Thoughts on cold

Freezing Weather Watch until 6am and no school tomorrow! Is it possible that Steven and I might actually do some work on the house? (Fat chance. Sorry, dry wall compound, we’ll get you out of the garage one of these days).

I love this kind of weather. I don’t love it when I’m all alone, but now that Steven will be home tomorrow, it’s excellent. AND I have two books which I could snuggle up and read (New Moon and Eclipse, thank you, Sarah). Even Stevie and David are getting into the cozy spirit of things by watching a movie (quietly, no less!) and taking a nap respectively. Bravo, fellas!

The house is completely quiet! It’s quite an occasion! Now, I’m off to pop some 94% fat free kettle corn (that’s right, I’m still being honest) and settle down with a good book.

Oooo, you know what I should make? Soup. Soup is lovely with cold weather. Soup and fuzzy house slippers.

JUNK

I'm currently at my dad's house--the house that we will shortly be moving in to sans dad. It is a horrible mess. There remains the refuse of the six people who once lived here, but now just use it for general storage. Oh, and some late 80s furniture with the charming color scheme of pink and light blue (remember that????)

My dad wants the house sold, but it’s an absolute impossibility in its current state. So Steven and I foolishly agreed to move into it for six months, fix it up and have it sold. At first, we were overjoyed at the prospect...more room and less money (only insurance, utilities and taxes, as the house is already paid off). We'll really only be saving about $50 a month, but hey! that's 50 more bucks in our pocket right? Plus, it will give us more time to save up for our down payment, as we're planning on buying a house of our own (FINALLY!) in September.

Weeelllll, I'm feeling a tad overwhelmed. The place, as it stands, looks like it should be condemned. I think I might have bit off a little more than I can chew. I am looking at this house thinking I just need to bulldoze the whole thing down. But then I'll find some cute little tee-shirt from my youth, or some old cub scout patches, or a cruddy clay ashtray someone gave my mom for mother's day, and I start becoming obsessively sentimental about all the trash I didn't even remember existed before I started cleaning!

Why is it so hard to let go of junk? Not your everyday my-kid-ripped-apart-yet-another-toy junk, but the toys YOU pulled apart in your day…you know, memories.

My family never really moved. My parents bought this house in 1978, and lived in it until my mom passed. And the rest of us just kind of felt like we had two houses…the one we actually occupied with our spouses and the one where our childhood lived. But I really think that it will be a good thing for all of us to leave this house behind and really focus on our own homes and families. We really need to just rent a storage unit or THROW THINGS AWAY! I mean honestly, do I really need that ashtray?

Maybe. How much are storage units these days?