Orange Dream

I swear, I should be in a commercial. Advertisers need to know how much I fawn over some of the food they come up with. The latest, or should I say, one of the earliest num-nums I just had the pleasure of pleasuring over was a simple Creamsicle. The standard orange and cream goodness on a stick. I bought a box of 12 a few weeks ago for $1.88 (I love a good sale) and I've been parceling them out slowly ever since. Today, I shared one with Tessa - her first. Watching her eat it, with eyes growing wide and little-kid "mmmm"s allowed me to remember how much I loved eating them as a kid (and why I'm such a sucker for them even now). The best part was that she got a little cream on her fingers, so rather than getting my growing belly off the couch to get a napkin, I just stuck her fat fingers in my mouth and sucked them clean. Don't gag. You've all done it. Anyway, she just giggled and laughed and giggled some more, and I was taken back to my own summer childhood treats. I think I still have 5 left in the freezer...

Does it make you want to go get a box? I'm not stopping you. You're welcome, Popsicle brand, for the shameless free advertising.

Miss Ririe Regrets

I've been feeling regrets lately. Not huge life-decision-making-gone-awry kinds of regrets - just things I wish I had done or said or handled better. This is not a very common thing for me to feel, since long ago I adopted the mantra "Live so you never have to look back and think, 'I wish I would have...'", but I admit I do reflect every now and again about what could have been different in my life (for better or worse) had I chosen a slightly different path.

These feelings began some weeks ago, but came to a head last weekend when I went back to California to help my wonderful mom with the final phase of their move. She's been working for the last two years clearing out the house they lived in for 43 1/2 years, selling, packing, sorting, delivering, tossing, donating, and deciding deciding deciding. During the weekend, Mom and I had a chance to have some really great heart-to-hearts about life, marriage, kids, futures, goals, and even dreams lost. My relationship with my mom has been especially strong the last decade or so, but this weekend I felt an even deeper sisterhood with this kindred spirit. We drew many parallels between our two lives, and are convinced we chose to be in the same family whenever our earthy time was supposed to begin. She said the conversation must have gone something like this:

Her: Hey, should we ask if we can be in the same family so we can talk to each other all the time?

Me: Totally. Do you think we should ask to be sisters?

Her: Nah. We need to learn more than that. Let's be mother and daughter! Which one do you want to be?

Me: Well, you're more bossy, so you should be the mom.

Her: It's not like you're going to do what I tell you anyway, so it doesn't matter, but okay, I'll go ask.

And that is how we came into the same family. Scout's honor. And as I was helping pack up memory after memory after memory, I got nostalgic and homesick and yes, even regretful about the times we had and the times we never did because I was too hard-headed and Miss Know-it-all to really know any better. And now I've been called to help in the Young Women program at church, so I find myself wanting to shake them and say "Do it this way!" so they don't fall into the same silly traps the rest of us did. Here were some of mine:

1. I'm sorry I didn't tell my dad about the oil light coming on in our 1984 Honda Civic hatchback before it was too late. Not only did I have to help pay to replace the entire engine because it had run dry, but I got busted because it broke down on my way back from my boyfriend's house, where I'd made an early morning visit instead of going to seminary.

2. I'm sorry I gave up sewing after I attempted one pair of pajama pants that a penguin would have been embarrassed to wear. It took me almost a decade to work up the courage again, and by then, it wasn't as easy to learn at my mother's knee.

3. I regret that I didn't keep a more consistent journal. We helped a couple move today, and I lugged a very heavy bin that had "all the journals" she's kept since she was 6. I have, count 'em, two journals other than my mission journal, and the second one isn't even half full. So all of you I've had conversations with over the years, recount to me what I said so I can write it all down and make this list longer. :)

4. I regret not following the incredibly strong prompting to send a Book of Mormon to my high school history teacher. Now I'll never know.

5. I'm sorry I was SO CLUELESS to so many friends who needed my help over the years. I shied away from tragedy because I never knew what to say or do, but working at a mortuary finally taught me that people just need someone to listen. I could have been that for so many, but was too insecure to realize it.

6. I regret never confronting Carol W. from high school about why she hated me so much. I still wonder about that. Maybe I made out with her crush or something - that's entirely possible.

7. I regret that I developed a bad habit of comparing myself to others for so many reasons. I know it's a cankerous way to live, but sometimes, I can't help myself. I make my jokes about hating them, but really, I'm just jealous. If you're reading this and I know you, go ahead and insert your name where you see "others". I'm positive it applies to you.

I need to stop there, or at least pause while I go find some Prozac somewhere.

To be fair, I have talents and happiness that I have fostered and nurtured through the years, so it's not like I'm that bad off. And one day, I will write about those. Today, though, I needed a little self-chiding to get myself back on a track I can look back on and think, "Well done." Mom, thanks for the inspiration. I think I'll start doing what you tell me to.

A heavenly perspective

I have a front porch full of my pre-marriage life, and since I got married at 30, that's a lot of crap. My mom was finally sick of housing all the old yearbooks, fabric scraps, elementary school projects and awards, programs from EVERY performance I've ever been in (including sacrament meetings), poems and pictures from old boyfriends, and the list goes on. I must have a dozen clippings of my hair at various ages, so whenever I die, Ted will still have something to run his fingers through.

It's been an ordeal to go through it all for two reasons: 1) I keep looking at everything with exclamations of either "I remember writing/making/drawing this!!" or "Why would Mom SAVE this??" and 2) There is a LOT of crap. I thought I would share a particularly choice piece of writing I came across.

You know those little talks you have to give in Primary? I recited one to my mom and she typed it on a 3x5 index card. The date on it says I was days away from turning 12, so it must have been my last hurrah before moving on up into Young Women. I want to quote it verbatim below. Current commentary is in brackets.

"Everyone lives in heaven at least once in their lifetime [apparently I was well-versed in the doctrine surrounding the first and second estates even at this tender age. What can I say?]. This time was in the pre-earth existence of life. In other words, before we were born. And everyone will live a life of freedom and happiness [hey, I was an optimist]. It seems a short time that you live here on earth. When you die, your physical body stays buried in this earth, but your spiritual body slowly rises out of your physical body and travels to heaven to live with Heavenly Father again. Heaven is the most perfect place to live. It's even better than living in See's candy shops. And I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen."

Hard to believe that I once thought that. What could be better than living in a SEE'S CANDY SHOP??? A lifetime of blueberry truffles, rum nougats, and butterscotch squares?? Sign me up. Clouds and harps be damned.

Fond Childhood Memories

I realize this might be a "generational" post, but it would be fun to get your participation.

I grew up with five older brothers, and money was tight, so my "new" outfits usually came from their laundry baskets. Even some dresses were hand-me-downs, courtesy of Laura D's family (and thanks to Diana, too!). Happy was the day when I got something new! I recall wearing a certain pair of new white patent leather Easter shoes for three days straight (I even slept in them) because I was so excited. I hated getting those scuffs on them, though.

So imagine my excitement when I got my brand new pair of Wonder Woman Underoos. I wore those things ALL the time, and I know many of you (Valerie) know what I'm talking about. Unfortunately, we don't have a picture of me in them (hey, I'm a modest girl!), but I know I looked just like this (on the right), but with brown hair - tan and all.

I'll have to check with my sister to see if she got Spiderman ones. In the meantime, what's one of your favorite childhood memories?