Science Center

We took a trip, and I mean an ALL day trip to the Science Center. We were there when the doors opened and we left at closing. We left happy but exhausted. Here are some photos of the fun!

Sarah's Key

Sarah's Key
by: Tatiana de Rosnay

Synopsis:

Paris, July 1942: Sarah, a ten year-old girl, is brutally arrested with her family by the French police in the Vel’ d’Hiv’ roundup, but not before she locks her younger brother in a cupboard in the family's apartment, thinking that she will be back within a few hours.

Paris, May 2002: On Vel’ d’Hiv’s 60th anniversary, journalist Julia Jarmond is asked to write an article about this black day in France's past. Through her contemporary investigation, she stumbles onto a trail of long-hidden family secrets that connect her to Sarah. Julia finds herself compelled to retrace the girl's ordeal, from that terrible term in the Vel d'Hiv', to the camps, and beyond. As she probes into Sarah's past, she begins to question her own place in France, and to reevaluate her marriage and her life.
Tatiana de Rosnay offers us a brilliantly subtle, compelling portrait of France under occupation and reveals the taboos and silence that surround this painful episode.

This is one of the best books I have read in a really long time. It is heart wrenching, and tear-jerking, can't put it down type of a book. I just cannot fathom the hatred and the injustice that the Jews suffered at this time in history. This is one of those books that I keep thinking about even though I finished it 2 days ago.
So, bottom line is...read this book, you won't be sorry you did. I LOVED IT!!

What A Difference A Year Can Make

I found my 2009 planner this week. Before you errupt into laughter that I actually own a planner -something I vowed I never would never own - know that last year was a chaotic year. I was actually enrolled in three different schools. Yes, you read correctly. I was at CAC, Rio Salado, and Seven Health Care (and for about three weeks I was in all three of them AT THE SAME TIME), and on top of that I had IVF appointments that averaged 3 visits a week and therapy appointments both group and personal for three members of the family.  The chaos of it all resulted in a carpool child getting left alone for almost an hour - after which I bawled in my car and then proceeded to drive directly to Target and buy a planner. 

But I digress, this post is not about why my life is chaotic, I was writing about how much has changed in a year for me...well for all of us. If emotional whiplash exists...I think I may have it. I am shocked at how completely different my life is just one year later.When looking at the events of last summer memories came flooding back. 

Last year, I was frantically taking all of my nursing school prerequisites. I was thinking and hoping and praying for admittance into Nursing school. I was giving myself twice daily injections in the stomach and hip - hoping for the baby I had been waiting on for so many years. I was optimistic that treatment was "sticking" and that maybe, just maybe, Preston was in recovery. That the events of the past were nightmares that would fade in time...one day to be distant memories of "trials" that made me who I am. 

And yet here I sit a year later. A new perspective. Failed IVF looks like a blessing. A longer, more expensive, and definitely more challenging road to Graduation feels like my "path." I am in a new home - and once again a new school. I am single...not only adjusting the loss of my husband but also a huge network of extended family. 

 I look back at Andrea of 2009 and part of me wishes I could warn her. Wishes I could give her a glimpse of what will await her in a few short months. Do something to help soften the pain I know will strike.  And then I realize...she doesn't need a warning. She will do just fine...she will not only make it through the darkness but come out on the other side intact.

I can see clearly, maybe for the first time, how all the pieces were in place. I can see the huge network of support that had been gathering to soften my fall. I can see years and years of preparation that came together at the perfect time.

And I can literally see and feel the love - the love of my Father - who knows my heart. And it brings immense peace to me today. I once again, feel assured that we'll be okay. That healing will come. That my boys will be compensated - they will have all they need. That I am never alone and that my future - all of our futures - are in His Hands. And that idea makes me smile.

 Lynsey and I spent the weekend here. It was blissful.
I have been very blessed to know Lynsey. We met six years ago in Idaho...and have been friends ever since. There are a million things to love about this girl - but the one I love the most is her heart. She is one of the most thoughtful and loving women I know. Her gifts were the first received when I found out I was pregnant and when I found out I wasn't.  She has witnessed and supported me through some of the toughest experiences of my life. And to top it off...she's hilarious. When we get together we seem to spend most of our time laughing or crying.
This weekend was no exception...I had a wonderful time!
I made a list of words that will always help me remember the fun....what can I say - I am a woman who loves a good list.

Keywords: Sleeping In, Melting Pot, Boom Dip, Poolside, Music, Inception, Best Friend, Birthday, Sprinkles, Orson Welles, Dampness, Jugular, Silver Eyeshadow, Teddy Bears with Teeth, Cowboy Ciao, Fanny Pack, Movie Theater Photo Shoots, Pizzookie, Lynsey's American Flag Shorts, 115 and A Vaseline Face.

 Happy Birthday Lynsey!!!

Quote of the Day

That which we obtain too easily, we esteem too lightly.

Thomas Paine

Read this today. And felt inspired. It was literally my mantra while I did my hours of statistics homework.

The Help

The Help 

By Kathryn Stockett

From The Washington Post's Book World/washingtonpost.com Reviewed by Sybil Steinberg

Southern whites' guilt for not expressing gratitude to the black maids who raised them threatens to become a familiar refrain. But don't tell Kathryn Stockett because her first novel is a nuanced variation on the theme that strikes every note with authenticity. In a page-turner that brings new resonance to the moral issues involved, she spins a story of social awakening as seen from both sides of the American racial divide.

Newly graduated from Ole Miss with a degree in English but neither an engagement ring nor a steady boyfriend, Eugenia "Skeeter" Phelan returns to her parents' cotton farm in Jackson. Although it's 1962, during the early years of the civil rights movement, she is largely unaware of the tensions gathering around her town.

Skeeter is in some ways an outsider. Her friends, bridge partners and fellow members of the Junior League are married. Most subscribe to the racist attitudes of the era, mistreating and despising the black maids whom they count on to raise their children. Skeeter is not racist, but she is naive and unwittingly patronizing. When her best friend makes a political issue of not allowing the "help" to use the toilets in their employers' houses, she decides to write a book in which the community's maids -- their names disguised -- talk about their experiences.

Fear of discovery and retribution at first keep the maids from complying, but a stalwart woman named Aibileen, who has raised and nurtured 17 white children, and her friend Minny, who keeps losing jobs because she talks back when insulted and abused, sign on with Skeeter's risky project, and eventually 10 others follow.

Aibileen and Minny share the narration with Skeeter, and one of Stockett's accomplishments is reproducing African American vernacular and racy humor without resorting to stilted dialogue. She unsparingly delineates the conditions of black servitude a century after the Civil War.

The murders of Medgar Evers and Martin Luther King Jr. are seen through African American eyes, but go largely unobserved by the white community. Meanwhile, a room "full of cake-eating, Tab-drinking, cigarette-smoking women" pretentiously plan a fundraiser for the "Poor Starving Children of Africa." In general, Stockett doesn't sledgehammer her ironies, though she skirts caricature with a "white trash" woman who has married into an old Jackson family. Yet even this character is portrayed with the compassion and humor that keep the novel levitating above its serious theme.

Copyright 2009, The Washington Post. All Rights Reserved. 

Loved it! This is a good one folks. The book is set in 1960's Mississippi and it follows the lives of the "Help" or maids that wait on upper class white families. The characters are so real that you are certain they are based on people you know. The dialogue was amazing and to my embarrassment I was laughing aloud and catching stares in public places. It's a good book to remind the reader of perspective and "the big picture. I left this book thinking...which in my opinion, is the sign of a very good read.

Upside down

Saw this today. So fun...yet so confusing. How long do you think you would have to live there till it would stop freaking you out?

Notice the bench upside down on the roof? Or the wheelbarrow?

Got me thinking about two quotes that I have had on my mind lately...

 “Life is full of ups and downs. The trick is to enjoy the ups and have courage during the downs.” 
"Anyone who imagines that bliss is normal is going to waste a lot of time running around shouting that he's been robbed.

• Most putts don't drop. Most beef is tough. Most children grow up to be just people. Most successful marriages require a high degree of mutual toleration. Most jobs are more often dull than otherwise.
  
  
  
  
  

  Life is like an old-time rail journey—delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders, and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling bursts of speed.

  
  The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride."
  -President Gordon B.Hinckley

  
  I have been trying (not sure if I am quite succeeding) but trying nonetheless to enjoy, not just muddle through life. Especially right now. I don't want to look back and feel like I missed my 27th year of life. Or Ethan's 7th year. Or Tyler's 5th. I want to enjoy and learn and THRIVE each day that God gives me. 
  And in a lot of ways that house is me. Something that once looked so "normal" is upside down...for the world to see.
  Right now things are different. Really different. Really confusing. And like I wondered above I think most days I am "freaking out." Trying to get my bearings and not feel "upside down."
  But as I was looking at that house I realized that instead of trying to make sense of it...spending all my time trying to make it right side up again. Maybe I should just enjoy it. Recognize its uniqueness and enjoy my stay. 
  We won't live there forever - its not my dream home and it's definitely not my final resting place. But for now its a "vacation home." And I'll find some beauty here!