The Pursuit of Happiness

So not so recently I watched the "Pursuit of Happyness" with Will Smith. I've always been a fan, even in the Fresh Prince of Bel Aire stage which certainly wasn't the highlight of his career but I got a kick out of it. I quite enjoyed his humor in "Independence Day" and have been delighted to see him take on some more serious roles. But, a tribute to Will Smith is not why I am writing today. I'm thinking about the pursuit.

At the end of the afore mentioned movie, Will's character attained his dreams which we all rejoiced in as an audience. However, I felt stressed and anxious through the entire thing. I kept on thinking "when is this guy gonna get a break!" After all was said and done, 'happiness' achieved, I left the theatre out of breath and feeling like some serious down time was needed. Kudos to him for stickin' to his dreams, but boy oh boy I'm sure glad that I don't have to do all that. Or do I?

I just got back from the doctors office. Yes, we are starting those lovely visits again in the pursuit of our happiness... that would be a child for those of you not in the know. We took a break after my January surgery and it's time to get brave again and give it another go. I had more blood work done last week (you'll be happy to know that I didn't pass out and they only had to stick me twice! Now that's progress) and today I went in to see if it was a good idea or not to start on clomid again. Well, it's not. That little problem that my January surgery took care of seems to have come back.... all by itself, no drugs necessary. "Bob"is very persistent. I've decided to name this one George.

So now I'm sitting here contemplating life as we know it. I'm not sure what to do. It's not that I want pity or anything, I'm just trying to figure things out. I have never doubted that the Lord has had a plan for us. I know that he still does. But I can't help but wonder if that means I'll be having children in my 50's! A modern miracle for all the world to see and be glad they are not in my shoes. At our kids high school graduations I'll have my rubber tipped slip-proof walker and David will have his portable oxygen tank... we'll have to pay someone to take pictures because our eyesight will be too bad.

David and I are also meeting with LDS Family Services on Thursday to get the scoop on adoption simply because at the rate we're going it's probably best not to put all our eggs in one basket, so to speak.

As this pursuit continues I can't help but think if it is worth it. Do I really want to be pregnant? Stretch marks, heart-burn, late nights, morning sickness, baby fat, inability to tie my own shoes or shave my legs... doesn't really sound that appealing. Adoption is sounding better and better. Of course there will still be sleepless nights, dirty diapers galore, and all that comes with it, but at least my pants will still fit!

Here's keeping it optimistic! Just keep going, its just gotta be worth it in the end.

Chasing Rainbows

So I have been thinking about rewards, particularly that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I remember when I discovered that the pot of gold more than likely wasn't real. I was probably 6-7ish. We lived in the cute little white house with built-in shelving and this wonderful closet/cupboard that we spent many an afternoon in. We were completely surrounded by fields and more than enough room for imagination. It had just rained and there was a beautiful rainbow spanning over the house and into the neighboring field.

Well, I was no dummy. I had heard the stories and I knew what was at the end of that rainbow. Gold. I could even see where it ended! This was my lucky day. I grabbed dad's shovel (no mean feat at 7ish) and headed into the field. Funny thing about rainbows, the closer you get to the end, the further away the end gets. I started running to catch up to it before it disappeared but the faster I ran, the faster the rainbow moved until it was gone completely. I scanned the sky in vain, hoping for the faint sign to instant treasure, but to no avail. I was so disappointed.

I headed back to the house and had myself a think. There was no way that a huge pot of gold could keep moving with the rainbow. It's heavy. So the gold had to be in the first spot I had seen the 'end' of the rainbow. With renewed zeal I shouldered the shovel once again and headed for the field. Fortunately, I had a father who saw me and had sense enough to ask what I was doing. "Well duh, I'm going to dig up the pot of gold!" He chuckled, put his arm around me and proceeded to destroy my dream. Leprechauns and pots of gold at the end of rainbows just don't exist.

I like to think that I grew up a little that day, but I'm not so sure. I find myself continually looking for that pot of gold. Not in the instant wealth department, but in the general things of life. If I do all the right things and live correctly, then the things we want will just fall into place. If I marry the right guy at the right time and in the right place, then the kids, house, financial security and happily ever after are sure to follow. It's what the story says right? Pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

So why is it that I can look around and find several examples of people who did not do the right things, perhaps got the kids and marriage order mixed up, had issues with the church, etc. and yet they have the things that I want the most? Doesn't seem fair right?

It's so easy to sit back and judge other people's lives. Easy because we haven't lived them. We haven't walked in their shoes and they haven't walked in ours. But is that what this life is all about?

I had myself another think. The only reward that matters in this life, is that we make it to the next. That somewhere, somehow, we've repented enough times and made enough corrections with our faulty selves that the Lord can forgive us, wash us clean, and take us in his arms to live with him and all the rest of the people that are important to us. That's the real reward isn't it? The real gold at the end of the rainbow. So does it matter so much if we messed up the order so long as we get it all straightened out in the end?

Time Off

I decided to take some time off work... you know, one of those vacations that's only a vacation in the sense that I don't have to go to work. It's been kind of nice. I took a whole week and a day off. It's been good to clear my mind as well as go a little crazy. Let me explain.

Clearing of the mind:
1. I haven't thought about work for 4 whole days now! Aaaaahhhh.
2. This is the first real day that I've done something on the computer aside from send a email to check plans. (Thanks Tawnya and Isaac! Loved game night! I am a winner!)
3. No TV. How did I do it? Well, there was a delay in my netflix.

Going crazy:
1. I made 10 loaves of bread. Seriously, what was I thinking! It would take the two of us months to eat that. Fortunately we have neighbors who were willing to take them off of our hands.
2. I attacked the yard... literally... with pruners. I worked on it most of Tuesday and have the scars to prove it. What I found is that I have a lot more work to do... but will I? Hmmm.
3. I decided to mass produce greeting cards. In all fairness I do have a plan for them, but yesterday I felt that my brain had turned to mush.
4. On Tuesday I also did a super job on getting the house clean... now I am surrounded by bread pans, scraps of paper, laundry and random shoes. I am a mess.

It's noon and I'm still in my pajamas. Part of me thinks that I should feel bad, and then I tell that little voice in my head to shut it.

I wonder what tomorrow will bring...

If you Could Hie to Kolob

Well, that's exactly what we did! Last weekend (being June 5-6, yes I'm a bit late) we went to Kolob Mountain where David's Grandma has a cabin. Grandma Sullivan is no longer living, but she has graciously left the cabin to her kids to share. We decided it was time to go and experience it all.

David and I were the only ones to stay Friday night and we certainly had an adventure of it. But why listen to me? Let me have the pictures do the talking.

Adventures in smores. Many a contraption tried, but nothing works like patience.

I was the winner of the perfect smore contest.

We then went inside for lessons on lamp lighting and learning to play Pinocle. Any takers to play with us? We need to practice so we can make a comeback. We got schooled.

The next morning started with a hike around the lake.

Around noonish, the rest of the family started showing up. The days events consisted of:

Feeding chipmunks,

Feats of strength, (I love the little hop!)

Chatting with each other,

Throwing rocks at bugs,

And playing in the playhouse.

We even got to eat... a little later than expected, but hey, we're camping right!

All in all we had a good time and hope to be able to do it again.

Yellow

So, I have been on this Tom Petty kick for some odd reason. The "Wildflowers" album in particularly. I really like the entire thing which is semi-odd for me. There's usually at least one song that I don't have great feeling for, but not this time.

The "Wildflowers" album has some special meaning for me in a crazy sort of way. It was actually introduced to me by a guy that I liked at the time. Actually I liked him for about two years. We spent a lot of on/off time together and me trying to figure out just what was going on between us. It was seriously one of the most confusing times of my life. There were parts of it that I loved and parts that I look back on and hate.

I loved that it was exciting. I love that for the most part, he was a decent guy. He was taller than me and for some reason he had a smile that I could't resist. He was a serious thinker, drove a big old truck that didn't fit his personality at all, and he could make me laugh.

I hated that I couldn't make him laugh. That he never really saw who I was. That he could make my stomach do flip-flops even after we were over. I hated that he had a hard time letting me go.

He was my friend who couldn't be more than a friend but couldn't let me go at the same time. I didn't understand why for a long time. I do now. When we parted, really parted, it was one of the hardest things I had done up to that point in my life. I remember leaving his apartment and crying all night until I fell asleep. Then I would wake up and cry again. It was even worse that he wasn't heartless... he cried too. I felt like my heart was literally breaking, being wrenched from my body.

And then I was free. Truly free. After all the tears and sorrow, I felt at peace and full of life. It was good.

I have often thought about those two years of my life and what they really meant. There are times I look back and can't believe how stupid I was to hang on for so long. And yet at other times I realize how much I learned from that. He really was someone I cared about, and oddly enough I still do in some ways. There was value to that pain.

We've both moved on and lost track of each other. I often wonder what happened to him. Is he happy? "Wake Up Time" by Tom Petty always makes me think of him. So if you're out there... this is for you.

Sunday Random

-At exactly what age do little boys start seeing every piece of paper as a potential paper airplane?

-The restroom at work has 4 stalls and 5 sinks.... Just who is sharing the stall?

-I miss the 6th ward. In fact, I sniffle a little just thinking about it.

-There's a sign on the paper towel holder at work that says "in case of emergency advance manually". What kind of emergency would require the use of paper towels?

-Never bring treats to Primary. They will expect them every Sunday.

-No matter how tightly the lid is on, the cooler will always leak.

"Honey, can you answer that?"

K, so I have a confession to make. Really just something to point out that I'm sure most of you already know about but for some reason I feel the need to let you all know that I know that I'm bad at these things.... Like explaining myself for example. You may have to read that last line a few times in order to get my meaning. I know cause I had to already!

I am a horrible communicator over the phone. I would rather text, email, write a letter, sign language, hand puppets, mime... the list goes on, in order to communicate with someone. I suppose there's always the old fashioned method: face to face, but let's not get carried away here. I even go so far as to have distress at email requests because I will respond with clarification questions and fret over whether or not the recipient will get the information in time. I could always pick up a phone and just pass on the information verbally, but that would be all too convenient and we can't have that now can we.

I just don't do well over the phone. In fact the only times I have really good phone conversations are with a) my mother, b) my sister, c) my best friend, or d) my husband. Of course I was only good with my husband while we were dating. That whole can't-be-together-after-certain-hours-because-it's-illegal kind of thing. So you stay up all night talking on the phone because it's the only thing you can do. Then you get married, go to bed at 9 and never look back.

I have often wondered if I have a problem. I have often wondered if I care that I have a problem. I will get stressed out about calling the people I visit teach! I make my husband call and invite people over for dinner, games, whatever. I think I may have some deep-seated fear of rejection and if I can just get it secondhand then at least the blow is softened somewhat. It all seems very silly, but... (if you could see me I would be shrugging right now). I don't mind it when anyone else calls, I'm just usually not the instigator.

So, what does this all mean? I have no idea, but it's kind of interesting right? And now you know why David is always the one that calls and invites you all over for dinner!

To infinity and beyond!

I don't know how many of you have had the privilege of being trapped in a genuine Sullivan family debate/argument/all-I'm-saying-is conversation, but boy oh boy have you missed out!

I recently had the privilege of being trapped in the car from Enterprise Utah to Hurricane Utah while one was taking place. It's about an hour drive and there's not much in the way of scenery to take the mind off of the conversation. My only escape was falling asleep. They are sometimes about the most pointless things ever too.

K, so not silly to them, but... So, Saturday was the day. We had just had the graveside service to lay Grandma Clove to rest. It was a beautiful sunny day, family was gathered, and for a funeral it was really quite an enjoyable day (all things considered). Then it happened. Ivan, the aspiring writer, has come up with an idea about a television series that he thinks would be good. It's largely based in science-fiction with some real world application. David, being the ever-practical man that he is, is gifted at finding even the slightest flaw in a theory and must make his point known. Ivan will defend his theory to the death. Normally not a bad thing... if the whole thing weren't based in technology that doesn't exist. The whole "science fiction" thing kind of makes it that way doesn't it? But don't worry, neither is to be deterred. Examples from Star Trek and Battlestar Galactica were even brought into play.

The next 45 minutes and beyond was filled with reasons why infinity exists or doesn't exist, traveling faster than light, massive amounts of energy being contained inside the human body with strategic reinforcements.... If I can borrow a phrase from Tawnya, seriously! I have a gift of being able to tune things out for a fairly large period of time and I actually made it with no serious feelings of hatred/die die die towards anyone in the car. We went out to eat and I thought that would be the end of it. Boy did I underestimate the stamina of Sullivan men to carry on a useless conversation with such passion. We got back into the car and it was as if there were no break. All I could think of was Toy Story: "To infinity and beyond!!" Too bad that was about the conversation and not flying into space. I would prefer the later.