Legacy

A little while ago, someone somewhere told me something Will Smith had reportedly said. (Stick with me; it gets better.) He said something about how, regardless of anything else, his children will see him run every day and read every day. I've been thinking a lot about this, as I am known to do with all sage advice from Will Smith. It makes me wonder about how my kids see me and what they will learn from me and how it will influence them. I think Will's onto something, but what other things do I want my kids to see me do every day? Pray every day? Make my bed every day? Remain calm every day? I can tell you right now those things aren't happening. It's one of the many reasons I'm terrified by motherhood. I don't want to be known for yelling about messes every day, or saying "I'm going to count to 3!" every day, or sitting at the computer writing my blogs instead of reading them books every day. It's something I need to think about, and start paying attention to. Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated.

It also brings up another subject. How much are you allowed to try to influence your children without being seen as controlling or manipulative and sending them to lifelong therapy? Josh and I have had an ongoing discussion (argument) since we started having children. He insists that, whatever our children decide to be, we should be loving and supportive and encouraging. I insist that I will be all of those things, and they are free to choose between pharmacology and dentistry. Jonah, just yesterday, told me he wants to be a trucker when he gets older. And, if given a choice, I think he'd end up in this illustrious career:


*Extra small clown costume optional.

I know it makes me sound over-bearing and controlling, but the yin and yang of Josh and I is that he's a romantic and I'm a realist. Do I want my sons to be teachers if that's what their heart desires? Of course. Do I want them to have to struggle to make ends meet for their 8 children while doing one of the hardest jobs in existence? You see what I mean? I love ballroom dancers, but I don't want my child to pursue it as a profession. On the other hand, I have extremely talented friends who make a good living being artists and actors and teachers. On the other hand, as much as I hate to admit it, I know it won't really matter what I say.

And, let's face it: I think those kids of Will Smith are really annoying.

Phone-bia

When I was growing up, our phone rang incessantly. Well over 100 times a day, I'd guess. My father is an apartment manager, so his phone number was on many a sign and in newspaper ads galore. They'd call at all hours of the day. It wasn't unusual to hear my dad get up at 3 AM to unlock an apartment for someone who forgot his/her keys. Since my dad also worked a jillion hours a day, my poor mother would be the one who got to answer the calls. Back in the day of no cell phones (a sad, sad day), she'd pass along emergency information to my father via a two-way radio found in our basement. She could also talk to a few truckers while she was at it. Then, my dad got his first cell phone. It was a beauty:It still cost a small fortune to receive any phone calls, so mom still continued her relationship in the basement with the truckers (not nearly as scandalous as it sounds). These days they've worked out a system. Dad answers all of the calls (such as the one he answered on the Storybook boat ride at Disneyland), and mom goes to lunch with her friends, not a trucker to be found.

All of this was meant to be part of the history of my phone phobia. My own home phone currently rings zero-4 times a day (depending on how many times the computerized library system calls to tell me I have a book on hold). I use about 15 cell phone minutes a month. I think about calling a friend, and then I panic. What if I say something stupid, or start to stutter? Luckily, I've worked out my own system. Facebook and e-mail have saved me from becoming a sad, lonely hermit. Most importantly, I have charming, well-loved husband who frequently acts as my secretary. "Call Lisa (one of my best friends), and see if they'll be home when we're in Utah." "Call Chanel (another best friend) and see if she wants to do lunch on Saturday." Luckily, Josh is their best friend too. I still can't get him to make my visiting teaching calls for me, though. Maybe I'll see if my dad is available.

About Face(book)

For months, I've been making fun of my husband for having a Facebook account. Today, I opened one of my own. In the spirit of becoming a more public entity, I thought I'd start posting more on this blog. The truth is, I have a lot to say -- real important stuff. Like just yesterday I was thinking, "Why are Angelina Jolie's lips such a dominant trait that ALL of her biological children have them? And I think some of the adopted ones do too!"

Today, I will simply show why tucking my children in at night is my favorite moment of the entire day:

Talk about lips! And no, they didn't come from me. I can only hope our new baby girl will have her father's lovely features.

A long time ago...

Lately, Jonah has been obsessed with Star Wars. I am not sure where this started. He had never seen movies or the cartoon or anything. It was as though it was built into his genetic code. We recently came back from Disneyland and the first ride that Jonah wanted to go on was "Star Tours." Again, I am not sure how he knew that this ride was there, or why he was so interested, but he was and he and Noel and I rushed over there right after we hit the Astro Orbiters (which is the traditional first ride - no lines, everyone can ride and it gets the kids pumped up.)

Here we are on the rockets...
And here he is in line for Star Tours. I have never seen him cuter.
He is a huge R2D2 fan. He insists on being him whenever he can when we play Lego Star Wars - leaving me to battle all the droids and storm troopers myself, which I get really annoyed about.

So today he decided he wanted to watch the movies - again, how does he know there are movies? Which we own...on VHS. What are we, the pioneers? So we dug out an old VCR and he sits happily watching. (Side note: how were not driven crazy by the crappy quality of VHS for all of those years?) When he grabbed the tape he grabbed Empire Strikes Back, because of the cool looking AT-ATs on the front. I insisted, that if he was going to watch the movies he watch them in order. (Also, the gutting of the tauntaun might be a little gross for him.) Amy said, "Is this one "The Return of the Jedi" the first one." Um, what. Then she said "Wait, this can't be the first one, it says Episode IV." Mi scusi? How is it that Jonah has tapped the universal unconscious and understands Star Wars and my wife, who grew up in the 80's has no idea. I asked her the plot and she said she doesn't know, but she "imagines there are some bad guys."
Sigh...fortunately she has plenty of other good things going for her.

And this is why we are having a baby girl...so they can gang up on me about Strawberry Shortcake, or 90210 or something.