Let it be

I know that life is super complicated, and it's a gift and a curse that I am a conflict-solver. I like to fix problems, and use healthy communication to get through hard things. One thing that I've realized lately is that not everything can be solved. I can't change others. I can only change myself.

I need to let things go. I can't help everyone, and often times, they are the only ones who can help themselves. I thought I could solve other people's problems, but as it turns out, you can only help those who want to be helped.

So if you're like me, and you can't stand to hear about something bad without wanting to help, I have some advice:

Do what you can, but don't do any more.

I know that doesn't make a lot of sense, but the point is that some problems are just meant to be left alone by you. I know it seems harsh to say "It's their problem," but sometimes it's necessary.

So listen to the wise words of The Beatles:

Let it be.

The Funny Thing About Being Sixteen

So, let me get this straight: At this time in my life, I'm supposed to be learning and preparing for my future. I'm supposed to read books on things I should know, and listen to people talk about how things will be. I'm supposed to watch others make mistakes and take note of them. I'm supposed to make my own mistakes and take note of them.

Right?

See, here's the problem: If I don't know what it's actually like until I'm there, what's the point of preparing? Let me make the mistakes when it actually matters. Make me read the parenting books that I neglected when I have a newborn. Watch me as I mess everything up, but try to fix it. Don't give me practice lessons that I won't take seriously. Youth is wasted on the young, surely. But why try to make us grow up too fast by making us use the time we have to be stupid to instead attempt to pound ideas that we'll never get into our heads? All this preparation for the future makes me just want to get this part of my life over with, even though I know it's an important time. I know I should just use this time to my advantage, but I can't help but think I'm uselessly waiting around for my life to start.

Translation: I learn by doing. Life: Fast forward, please.

Solution: Neverland.

Not perfect: Me.

I'm not the perfect girl. I spill things sometimes, and I'm clumsy. I laugh like a dork and I still love Nintendo games. I embarrass myself daily, and I can't seem to do things without them going completely wrong. My makeup isn't done perfectly each morning, and my heart gets broken easily. I always think I'm right, and I'm obnoxiously opinionated. But when I step back and think about it, I realize that I like being imperfect. I'd rather be good at being my nerdy self than be bad at being someone else.

Frolick Dancing

I am so excited for the summer for so many reasons. One of them being that I get to start taking some dance classes. I have wanted to do this for so long! Basically since I had to quit in sixth grade. I love ballet the most; I think it's absolutely beautiful. I'm hopefully going to be taking ballet, jazz, and a turns class. I can't wait! Here are some beautiful pictures I found on the oh-so-wonderful Google images:

This is actually the only picture on this post that I took myself, of my niece Taylor. She looks like a little ballerina in her cute tutu. Love this girl. I have such girly little nieces, and they all seem to love to dance. Taylor dances back to me when I dance for her. Sydney begs for ballet lessons and won't wear a skirt that doesn't "twirl". Addi does nice little hip hop-like movements with her arms whenever there's a beat. They all make me laugh, my favorite little dancers.

On the subject of dancing, it has been raining a lot lately. With summer so close by, it seems so odd; but hey, this is Utah. Anyway, I was playing with Taylor yesterday and we had a mini dance party in the kitchen. Then it started raining outside and I wanted to take her out there to dance in the rain with me, but I decided that doing so would get me in trouble. So we just sat at a window and watched the rain for a bit. So much for the "fun aunt". I really do want to dance in the rain, though. I bet my best friend will do it with me....

Mother's Day and Costco Kids

I was at Costco last night getting some things for my mom for Mother's Day, and I saw a father with his two sons, around the ages of nine and eleven or so. The younger one asked his father if they could buy the new Tron movie. His dad said no, but he was also sort of mean about it. I don't know the whole back story of these people of course, but when the father replied to his son in such an unexpected manner, I had an odd instinct to pacify the poor kid. I thought of walking over to him and saying "That's okay, that movie is overrated anyway." because that is my honest opinion on that particular movie. I was thinking that maybe a complete stranger walking up to him and telling him such a thing would shock him into felling better about his father's choice, or at least forget it.

I didn't actually approach the kid, but listened to him whine as he walked away. I wondered if he wouldn't have been as unhappy if I'd spoken up.

This lead me to think about all of the other times I had wanted to care for, or at least help, a child that was not my responsibility. In a grocery store, this tiny girl fell and before her mother helped her, I almost went over there myself. Of course, I probably wouldn't have been able to help much, due to the fact that children want their mothers caring for them, especially when they're hurt somehow. Plus it'd be really awkward, seeing as I didn't know them. I still had that instinct, though.

Women have a special difference to men in their roles as caregivers. They were made to have children, and to live out their divine destinies, and I'm happy that I was born with the natural sensitivity toward children and their feelings and that I have a need to care for them. I love kids, no matter whose, and I think they are all so good.

I also thought about how that boy in Costco didn't have his mother with him, only his father. Things might have gone differently in the happiness department, had his mom been there as well. Dads are great, they give you the tough love that you need, among many other great things. However, mothers have a different role. They nurture and love, care for and help their children in a different way than fathers do. They are so important to a child's growth and I love my mom especially.

Happy Mother's Day to all my favorite moms. Kate, Emily, and Heather: You are such great sisters and mothers, and you teach your kids so well. It has been such a joy to watch them grow up and learn from your examples, and help where I can. I love every one of them, and you three of course! It's an inspiration to me to have all of your good examples surrounding me. Thank you.

To my mother: Well, you know I couldn't live without you. Also, raising seven kids gives you a few extra points on Mother's Day, I think. ;) Needless to say, you're my favorite mom.

Love you all! I hope your Mother's Day Sunday is wonderful.

Just a girl colored girl

Ah, a brand new box of Crayola 64-pack mini markers. You open the box, pick up a yellowish one, and see that it is titled none other than macaroni and cheese. The next one you pick up? awesome. Then purple mountain's majesty. Raw sienna, pine, timber wolf, happily ever after, bear hug, steel, and then finally, bliss... red. That's it, just red. Not brick, no, just red. Now, I have a few questions. What is the difference between salmon, coral, melon, and peach? Wouldn't those all fall under the apparently broad category of pink? Why would we have so many different pinks? To confuse the poor children using them, perhaps? "What's your favorite color?" 1. "Melon." 2. "One of those pinks...." 3. "Pink!" (which one?) We are simply complicating the meaning of the word "color". Also, why are the names of so many of the Crayola colors actually objects? Eggplant? Dandelion? Asparagus? Come on, now. So next time I see a color, should I just say that it is carrot instead of orange? Or box instead of brown? Perhaps jeans as opposed to the simple blue? Wait, but jeans and boxes vary in color. You'd have to say "Your tablecloth is light brown box colored." Wait, since tablecloths are objects too, you'd have no choice but to say "That tablecloth has a nice tablecloth color to it." So now, everything that once had a color is just what it is. That folder is folder colored, your socks are sock colored, and so on. Look! An exception: A cat colored shoe. Yuck. This should all simplify the color system. (...or make it that much more confusing to small children and/or everyone else....) Take that, Crayola! (Which is Crayola colored of course.) Well, I'm off to take a nap colored nap.

Remember?

I recently noticed that I remember odd and unimportant things.
For instance: one time while driving in the car, my sister Rachel said something along the lines of "The same walk I went on with you," to someone. I absentmindedly replied, "There's no such thing as the same walk," and my sister Rebecca said offhand "That's profound."

This brief and oddly insignificant conversation stuck with me for an unknown reason, and I wonder if there even is a reason. Memories are interesting that way, aren't they?

Another thing I have recently been doing quite frequently is hearing words and remembering the exact way that I learned how to spell them. Weird, I know. Example:

When I was in third grade, we took a spelling test. I was usually in advanced spelling, so I thought that a regular one would be a piece of cake (oh, my silly over-confident elementary self!). So, the teacher said the words "a lot," and I thought it was so easy. Then I paused. Here's what then went through my head:
"A lot. Hm... is it one word or two? The only thing that I can remember about the spelling of that word is that I can't remember if it's one or two! Aha! It must be one, because each spelling test only has one word for each question. It's not as if they are going to start making us spell whole sentences!" So I put it down as one word, and was devastated when I got it wrong. "What?! I thought so hard though! I rationalized and made my answer make sense! What is this? Soon they'll be having us spell 'anarchy' and I'll think it's 'an arky' and wonder why they don't just say 'ark'! My goodness, anyone can get a job as a third grade teacher these days!" Okay, so it's possible that my third-grade self was a bit less cynical, but as if I would know the exact wording my subconscious used back then!

Anyway, I wish I knew why I remember useless things such as these. "I wish I knew why I remember"? That sounds funny. Well, I've got homework to further procrastinate on. Goodbye!