Month: February 2008

Several months ago Howard and I had a conversation with a friend about the things that teenage girls do. During the course of the conversation, I fessed up to having kept a list of the things I wanted in a future husband. This immediately led to the question of whether Howard matched my list. I was pleased to report that he hit every item on the list. I know because I checked while we were engaged. (embarrassing, but true.) He had everything from “fun to be with” to “loves children” to “taller by 1 to 4 inches, but not taller by 5 or more” to “always listens to what I have to say, but does not always agree.” Yeah. Some of those things were pretty specific, others were so vague as to be nigh useless as a point of measurement.

I think that keeping the list was beneficial to me. It helped me define who I was looking for, and know when I found him. But despite what they believe, teenagers are not omniscient. There are things that Howard has which have been incredibly valuable to me, but weren’t on the list. They weren’t on the list because I was too young to even see that I wanted/needed them. Since today is Howard’s birthday, and therefore a really good day to say nice things about him, I’ve decided to make a new list. It is the list of things that I didn’t know I wanted, but got anyway.

Loyalty. Being married is wonderful, but it is also hard. Spouses will argue, disagreements will be had, there will be stress. During those not-so-good times, it has been invaluable to me to know that no matter what happens, no matter how angry or frustrated Howard may be, he is not going anywhere. Because I can depend on him to be there, I am able to structure my life in ways that would not otherwise be possible. Time and again Howard has dropped all of his things to answer my need.

Ambition. Howard is driven by a need to achieve. This is not always a comfortable attribute. It has as much potential to destroy as to create. But Howard’s ambition has been a godsend for us. Because of his drive, we are now living a life that most people only dream of. Howard’s ambition has awakened some in me as well. We are not done going places.

Creative. I mean this as “creates things.” Howard constantly makes unexpected connections between dissimilar ideas. He does this constantly at both conscious and subconscious levels. This is how the ideas for Schlock Mercenary are born and percolate. Howard is not content to just have the ideas, he must also realize them, make them real. This drive has been a joy in our lives.

Hard worker. All the ambition and creativity in the world will go no where if there is a lack of willingness to do work. Howard works harder and cuts himself less slack than anyone else I have ever met. He can arrive at the end of a day where he got 100 things done and be discouraged because he wanted to accomplish 101 things. (or 110, or 200) Howard knows how to sit down and accomplish the things that need to be done, whether or not he wants to do them. We could not be where we are without this trait.

Need for cleanliness and order. Howard sees the messes that my brain filters out. He prods me and the kids to clean up, and does a fair share of cleaning up himself. This trait of Howard’s has frequently caused friction between us, but I am very grateful he has it. His need for order has forced me to learn how to keep house in ways that I would not otherwise have done. Our house is a much better, cleaner, place because of Howard.

Assertive. When things go awry, Howard knows how to lean on other people to get them fixed. He knows how to make telemarketers go away. He knows how to cut through red tape. He knows how to negotiate favorable deals. I’m not sure this is a part of himself that he likes very much, but it is incredibly valuable. When I met Howard, I didn’t know how to do any of this. I hid from conflicts. I still don’t like conflict, but because of Howard I learned how to handle it.

Silly. When I wrote “fun to be with” on my teenage list, I was picturing sitting and laughing over an interesting conversation. Or perhaps playing games together. I did not know how wonderful it could be to have someone who is unafraid of being silly and who encourages silliness in return. When Howard and I are alone or just with the kids, we do some pretty silly stuff. We do it for the laughs and the joy of being safe in a place where no one will make fun of the silly. Love should have laughing in it. Not just polite laughter, but roll on the floor unable to breathe laughter, and joyful laughter, and appalled laughter because the joke was awful and yet still funny, and giggling, and guffawing, and snickers. Love should play. I’m so lucky that mine does.

Humble. Howard is a very confident person. He has no fear of standing up in front of hundreds of people and talking about almost any subject you care to name. And yet the minute you ask him how he got to be where he is, Howard will start talking about all the gifts and people who made it all possible. Perhaps this attribute should be labeled “grateful” because Howard is completely willing to thank and acknowledge all the people who have helped him become who he is. Howard is also not afraid to step back and apologize when he sees he is in the wrong. These traits have allowed me and hundreds of other people to have a part in the success that is Schlock Mercenary.

Desire to help others. Howard knows that we are all connected. One of his biggest drives to succeed is so that he will be in a position to help others. In all his dealings he tries to set things up so that everybody wins.

This list is very different from the one I penned almost 20 years ago. At fifteen I could not picture wanting any of the above, and perhaps for some people the traits above would not be a good match. For me they are perfect and I’m lucky Howard has them all. I’m particularly lucky that he has them in addition to the “returned missionary,” “handsome,” “kind,” “willing to spend time on me,” things that were on the teenage list.

I married a truly amazing man. He keeps getting more amazing as the years go by. Happy Birthday honey! I love you!

I’m not usually a customer of Deseret Books. If I buy books at all, I tend to get them from Amazon, because Amazon does not require me to argue with multiple small children about what we will not be getting. But someone gave me a gift certificate for Deseret Books and Patches has a birthday on Saturday, so I found a time when I could go solo on a trek through Deseret Books.

Deseret Books is the publishing and retail bookstore aimed at the Mormon* market. I am a practicing Mormon and so in theory this store should be a very comfortable place for me. It was not. I was barely three steps into the place when my discomfort came to my attention. Discomfort is perhaps too harsh a word. “Unease” might be better. It is a large store, full of things that were all beautifully arranged, and very little of it interested me. While I was in a bookstore, I wanted to peruse adult science fiction and fantasy books. Deseret Books had none that I could find. They had a nice YA section for those genres, but nothing for grown-ups. I wandered through the store, noting what was there, and what was not. There was a large section of non-fiction, hundreds of sets of scriptures and scripture cases in every hue of the rainbow, a craft section with fabric and scrapbooking stuff, and lots of religiously themed home decor. I did find a game that Patches will be thrilled to have for his birthday.

It was only after I left that I was able to identify the source of my unease about Deseret Books. It was as if I the store was trying to tell me “you are Mormon, these are the things which should interest you” and the corollary to that “if you are not interested in these things, you must not be a good Mormon.” I know that these words are internal. They spring from the back of my brain. They are reinforced by the fact that products from this store are in near constant use by Mormon friends and neighbors around me. I see them at church, in homes, even as bumper stickers on cars. Sometimes I find the products beautiful and appropriate. Other times I am repulsed by the kitchy sugary-ness.

I feel conflicted about my negative reactions to these products because the values and lessons promoted by the products are good ones. I also feel conflicted because I know so many wonderful people who love Deseret Books and all of its products. I see the value, the good things that can be gained, but the expression is different from what I would choose. I firmly believe in the powerful and moving message that we are all children of God who loves and cares for us. I just boggle a little when the majesty of that message is made cute with cartoon characters. Yes children need the lessons simplified, but I wonder why we are afraid to teach them about eternity without trying to make it friendly first. I wonder if it is because we believe that they won’t understand, or if we as adults are trying to make ourselves more comfortable.

I am aware that some of my reaction is simply my drive to not follow the herd. I have always been an independent person and the fact that “everyone is doing it” makes me want to go do something else instead. I wonder if I would feel differently about Deseret Book if I did not live in the highest population density of Mormons in the world. Perhaps if the products of Deseret Books were not so omnipresent, I would look on them more favorably.

Fortunately Deseret Books is not the one true path to Mormon culture. The church owned distribution center has a very different feel to it. I love going there. It has no home decor, no craft section, no fiction. The distribution center is devoted to providing the lesson manuals, scriptures, and pictures necessary to teaching ourselves, and each other, about the messages of the Mormon religion. The distribution center has things that are peaceful, beautiful, joyful and not a single thing that is cute. When I need things to assist me in practicing or learning about my religion, I go to the distribution center.

More than once I have heard people who were not raised Mormon, express that they feel disconnected from Mormon culture. I suspect that when they say so, they are seeing the “Deseret Books” version of Mormon culture. But that is a stereotype and it only represents the smallest slice of those who are Mormon. Every congregation I’ve ever belonged to, has had amazing, faithful, people who were culturally outside the stereotype. Religions and Cultures definitely inspire each other, but they are not the same thing. It is possible (although not necessarily easy) to be fully invested in one while not participating in the other.

* “Mormon” is the colloquial name for members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.

We knew that we wanted to do something different to celebrate Howard’s 40th birthday. We wanted something that would invite all the friends we’ve made through Schlock Mercenary to participate as well. So at the beginning of this month, Howard posted a blog entry requesting that Schlockers send him postcards for his birthday. They responded wonderfully. As of this writing Howard has received 174 postcards. As they’ve arrived, we put them up on one wall. They didn’t all fit, so we’ve wrapped around corners to either side and started filling additional wall space.

Each of these cards is a gift. They represent a small gift of time and effort of the person who sent them. Some of them represent larger gifts of effort, such as the hand drawn card of Legs jumping out of birthday cake, a hand drawn bear, the photoshopped card of a ROD that purports to be from Ganj-Rho, or the two cards that depict Schlock visiting sites in New Zealand. One person even carefully constructed a fiddly bit to go on his card. Other gifts of time are made in the careful selection of cards. We have a couple of postcards that are ancient, one at least 50 years old. Some people went out of their way to find really cool stamps for the card they sent, such as the 1976 Olympic stamps. Several people send multiple postcards, either packaged together in envelopes or mailed separately. People chose postcards carefully and deliberately, trying to find the coolest or funniest picture possible. A few people weren’t able to find postcards and so sent regular cards instead. One person simply wrote a note on a 3×5 card and sent that.

All of these things went up onto the wall. Our whole family has enjoyed watching the collection grow. The kids have all spent time staring at cards and giggling at cards. They’ve spent time trying to figure out if we got cards from all the states and which countries are best represented on the wall. When I take the cards down, I may do one of those Google maps to show where they all came from. And I’ll put it all together into a scrapbook. Because there is no way we’re getting rid of any of it. They’ve delighted us all far too much for that.

As much as I’ve enjoyed looking at the fronts of the cards, the part that makes me teary-eyed are the words written on the backs. Sometimes the message is simply “happy birthday.” Other times the whole card is filled with writing telling the details of how this particular person found Schlock Mercenary, how long they’ve been reading, and how much they love the comic. A good half dozen or more have drawings of Schlock characters. But no matter what words are used, the underlying message is the same. “Thank you Howard. What you do made a difference for me.” That message is far more valuable that the pieces of paper.

So to anyone out there who sent a card. Thank You. And thank you to all the rest of you who did not send a card, but still care enough to click and read each day. Thank you for the gift of time and attention. We are grateful to you all.

This morning I was oppressed to the point of tears. My list of things to do for today seemed impossible. Howard and I sat down with the list to do triage. I quickly discovered that the list itself was completely managable. The source of the stress was not the list. The source was the fact that both Howard and Patches have birthdays this weekend and I’d not done a thing to prepare.

A month ago Howard and I discussed his upcoming 40th birthday. Howard expressed an interest in doing something special to commemorate the event. I agreed and we discussed the possibility of having a big party along with other options. Then time passed and I had busy day after busy day. Suddenly that far off birthday was this week, and I hadn’t done a thing to prepare. This is unusual for me. I’m usually plotting and planning weeks ahead of time. Ditto on Patches birthday the day after Howard’s. Birthdays are important. It is important that the birthday person feels loved and appreciated on that day.

Once I realized that the birthdays were the source of most of my stress, I rearranged my task list. I could not relax until the birthday pre-planning was done. So I went shopping. I bought some birthday gifts. I ordered Patches a birthday cake. I made invitations for Patches’ party on Saturday. Patches and I then delivered those invitations. I spoke with Howard’s siblings and finalized the arrangements for all of us to go out to Sushi for Howard’s birthday dinner. I still need to buy party prizes for Patches’ party. I also need to pull together a coherent plan for the events of that party. But now I feel like I’ve actually paid some attention to the coming celebrations. Now I have the shape of them in my head and I’m looking forward to them rather than them just being items on my task list. This is good.

I sat on the warm step next to my neighbor as we watched our boys play together in the cul de sac. For the first time in several months the sun imparted real warmth. It was a joy to be outside. In the back of my mind all the many tasks assigned to this day jumped and clamored for attention. If I spread all those tasks out in an even line, there would not be enough day left to contain them all. I squeezed them all to the back of my brain, out of sight. Quiet, pleasant moments such as this one have been rare lately. I wanted to savor it, to spend a moment being rather than rushing.

I’ve not done much reading lately. I haven’t had time or space in my thoughts. But today I finally picked up the book that I ordered from Anthology Builder months ago. I’m so glad I did. I’m even more glad that I included “Sunday” by Alethea Kontis in the collection. The story was a delightful weave of fairy tales and real human beings. I recommend it to anyone who has the chance to pick it up. The story made me happy.

I watched my backyard neighbors two youngest children tonight. Her baby girl was not pleased to be left, but quieted down when I sat in a rocking chair and snuggled her into my lap. Sitting there with her made me realize that none of my children are truly lap sized anymore, even though I still snuggle them from time to time. I rocked and held her close. She needed me to sit still, to give her full attention and she is not old enough to understand “wait a minute.” I relaxed into the rocking and realized how glad I was to have a reason to just sit still.

Wise men say, only fools rush in,
But I can’t help falling in love with you.

The song was made famous by Elvis Presly in 1961. It was an innocent love song.

Shall I stay? Would it be a sin?
if I can’t help falling in love with you.

Okay. Not completely innocent, but still about true love. But the Elvis version is not the one I heard first. I first heard the song as sung by UB40. They had a very different take on the words. Their music video is full of surveillance cameras, and footage of a woman filmed while unaware. These are scenes from the movie Sliver, which is a thriller based in some very unhealthy relationships.

Take my hand take my whole life too
for I can’t help falling in love with you.

The song takes on an ominous tone when placed in such a setting. At the time I felt that the song was a bit obsessive and that the relationship described was unhealthy. Yet the song appealed to me anyway. A couple of years later I figured out why because I had my first child. She entered my life and I was helpless.

Like a river flows to the sea
so it goes, some things are meant to be

As naturally as breathing I handed over my love and life to the tiny little person who needed me. I would bundle her close and dance around my living room singing.

Take my hand take my whole life too
for I can’t help falling in love with you.

Years passed. The baby grew up, but I still loved her with my whole heart. One by one, three more babies entered my life. And I gave each of them my whole heart as well. It is one of the amazing gifts of parenthood that you can give your whole heart four times over and still have some to spare. In 2002 a new version of the song emerged as my favorite. It was sung by the A Teens for the Disney movie Lilo and Stitch. I love it because it is so cheerful and energetic. The movie is all about family, which is perfect because to me this song is all about family and loving forever no matter what. I still sing it to my kids, only now they dance with me and sing right back.

For I can’t help falling in love with you.

Today is the official day for Kindergarten registration. This is when all the kindergarteners-to-be get to meet the teachers and tour the classrooms while the parents fill out paperwork and stand in line. In prior years kindergarten registration was the big event for the week that contained it. This week it is just one event among many. Sometimes I think longingly of that less busy schedule, but then I remember that I like having a life full of new and interesting things rather than looking forward to registration as the highlight of my week.

Alas, Patches will not be attending the registration with me. He has a nasty cold and is currently in bed asleep. The news that he couldn’t go, had him in tears. But he’ll really be better off not trying to deal with new things while sick. I can take him to see the Kindergarten rooms and teachers on a different day. I’m still going to go. He needs to be registered and the sooner I do it, the more likely it is that Patches will end up with the teacher that I want for him. After Gleek’s less-than-ideal kindergarten experience, I feel strongly that Patches needs a more stable teacher.

The next get-ready-for-kindergarten task will be to get Patches’ last round of immunizations. That will not make him happy at all. It doesn’t make me happy either. I hate having to get my kids immunized. I hate it so much that I’d completely suppressed the knowledge that I was not yet done dealing with this stuff. The good news is that this is the last big round of immunizations for me. After this I only have 12 year old booster shots to deal with and those are easy.

Today is a big picture day. Today I am contemplating the vast sweep of the rest of this year and wondering what we were thinking when we scheduled so much stuff. And yet it all feels important. I was going to list it all out, but then I realized that having it laid out might stress Howard and me more. All the stuff is on the calendar. I can deal with it when I get there. For now I just need to keep doing what I have been doing since January 1st, which is take things one week at a time.

If you were to graph the busy-ness of my weeks, there would be a huge bulge each Monday that tapers off toward the end of the week. This happens because I try to get as much done as fast as I can. I’m trying to get ahead. I hope that I’ll actually be able to do some of next week’s stuff this week, thus removing some of the stress from next week. I want to get stuff done, because stuff that is done no longer clutters up my calendar or my to do list. Instead what usually happens is that I wear out by Thursday afternoon. Then Friday frequently ends up as an avoidance day where I don’t do the things on the list. Weekends have a different rhythm because the kids don’t have school. Then I’m back to Monday, determined to get things done.

This week I have merchandise shipping, Teraport Wars layout, and two birthdays to plan.

Howard and I have been watching the new Doctor Who. I loved season one. Now we’re part way into season two and I am having a hard time enjoying it. All the elements are enjoyable, but they aren’t telling the story I want to see. Season one heavily featured a character arc based on the growing closeness and relationship between the two primary characters. I want to see that continue to grow and develop in the same direction because it made me happy. But the production team is choosing other aspects and stories to tell instead. These other aspects and stories are interesting and worthy, but they aren’t what I hoped for. (Please no spoilers in the comments. We’re only about 4 episodes in to season two.)

I think this is often a problem that interferes with the enjoyment of fiction, although usually not as blatantly as my frustration with Doctor Who. We all have stories that we want to hear. I have a strong desire for people I like to be happy. I like the characters in Doctor Who. I identify strongly with them and so I want them to get to be happy for awhile even if I know it can’t last. But as long as I am holding on to the story I want to see, I can’t see what is actually there.

I suspect this is not just a problem with fiction, but also in life. We sometimes misjudge a person or situation because we’re holding so tightly to what we want to be true that we can’t see what is actually there. I have moments like this with my kids all the time. Moments when I suddenly notice that my child stopped being the baby or toddler that I was still picturing them as being. This is a small example. A larger one would be a mother who continues to argue that her son is a good kid even though he’s doing drugs and committing felonies to support that habit. The mother’s story is a possibility instead of a reality. Her possibility is much more satisfying to her than the reality, and so she wants to cling to it. That’s an extreme example and perhaps not a good choice for comparison. A better comparison would be one where reality is beautiful and good, just in different ways than expected.

Tonight we’ll watch another episode and I’m going to try to put aside the story I wish for so that I can enjoy the story that is there.

My life is overflowing with possible blog topics this evening.

I could write a poignant vignette about the wonderful lunch I had today with my friend Julie of Mental Tesserae.

I could write a rant about how much I dislike being sick, particularly when it steals my voice and saps my energy thus rendering me unable to properly manage my children.

I could write a long winded tale about the emotional crisis feedback loops that become possible when a mother and a teenage daughter, neither of whom feel well, begin to argue about homework. That one could either be a tragedy or a comedy depending upon the spin I give the tale.

I could write a joyful announcement that my work will be featured in Darwin’s Evolutions inaugural issue due out in May. Evolutions looks to be a very respectable online market and they’re currently seeking solid stories for the first issue.

I could muse upon the weight of responsibility that accumulates when people build dreams for their own futures based upon things I have begun but not finished yet.

I could entertain with an anecdote about my children, who surely did something charming today. Patches talking about Abraham Lincoln for instance. (Patches was very excited that Mr. Lincoln freed all the people with brown skin because this means his friend Wally from preschool is not a slave.)

I could ponder further upon experiences that I had at LTUE. There were people I enjoyed talking to that I failed to mention. There were conversations I’d like to have recorded. There were thoughts I’d like to write down so that I do not lose them.

I could review the movies I’ve watched lately while I was trying to make my brain stop thinking about everything else. (Auntie Mame, Mean Girls, Firefly, the new Doctor Who, etc.)

In the end it looks like I chose to list all of these things in the hope that on another day when my brain is not so tired, I can come back and explore some of these topics more fully.