Redlines

It took eight months, but I have finally written an article that needed no editing. No red lines all over the page! Plus, my editor paid me a huge compliment and said I'm one of her best writers. (I'm currently blushing and think I shouldn't brag, but this is a journal of sorts so it stays).

I'm really proud of the ways this job has helped me get out of my comfort zone. I have to call complete strangers for quotes. I have to call people who I see at meetings repeatedly until they finally return my call. I got a quote from someone in trouble with the law who said "no comment" to the bigger daily newspaper.

This job has been really good for me. Hard, but good. I love that I'm getting writing experience. It gives me hope that I will tackle my book idea eventually. I am thankful I have the government beat because, as you all know, I am fascinated with politics.

I haven't linked to any of my articles before, but here's a link one of the articles I'm most proud of- Mapping out Midvale's representation. The redistricting process was something I learned a lot about and I felt strongly about it. However, I was able to put my personal feelings aside while writing and focus solely on how redistricing affects Midvale.

Ten on Tuesday

1- I want to write about my job and the things I've learned about politics, but I can't. It drives me nuts!
2- I've also learned a lot about writing. Still learning, in fact. Maybe it's just me, but AP style can be tricky. Plus, the paper I work for mostly follows AP, but not everything.

3- I like using the Oxford comma, but my editor keeps editing it out. I have to really focus on that when I write next month's articles. It reminds me of when I found out a year or two ago I wasn't supposed to use two spaces after a period. It took me a week or two to stop automatically hitting the space bar twice.

4- I am so glad I have an editor. I make the silliest spelling mistakes sometimes that spellcheck doesn't catch because the misspelled word is another real word. I promise I re-read everything before I send it to her, but I miss things.

5- I know all of these have been about my job so far. That is because the deadline for October's paper was on Monday. I got my redlines back today and luckily didn't have any major changes to make. That means other than city council meetings and two events tomorrow, I am free until staff meeting. Staff meeting is always two weeks after deadline, and I always waste those two weeks. I could get things pre-approved and start the articles early. In fact, I probably should. I haven't yet, though, in my seven months writing. From staff meeting until deadline is two weeks usually (three if it's a five week month).

6- My least favorite part of this job is getting people to talk to me. Almost everyone screens their work phone now. Most of the time, I have to call someone around three times before I get the quote or interview I need.

7- I really want to go to this Counterpoint Conference this weekend. Adam even has Saturday off (at least until 5 p.m.) so I think I'm going to go. I wish I didn't have to go alone, but it sounds so interesting that I will anyways.

8- The Occupy Wall Street protests really intrigue me. Mostly because I can't find a solid source of information for it. There is SO much on Twitter, but not verified, of course. Not much of the mainstream media is covering it, for obvious reasons. If an event is organized in SLC, I might take my little man to it. The We Are the 99 Percent message resonates with me.

9- I am going to have a hard time as Brayden gets old, I tell you. We have moved Brayden into his own bed in his own room. After a week, it still makes me sad.

10- In related news, Brayden is 27 months old, or 2 1/4 years old. I guess I should stop saying he's barely 2, huh?

I did it!

I know today isn't a good day. The government is messed up, spring in Utah is playing hard to get, etc.

But... I finished my first issue with the Midvale Journal! It goes to the press tonight, and I should be able to see my name in print next week.

I know it's not a big deal, and the pay isn't that good, but I'm happy about this new opportunity. It's only about 10 hours a month away from Brayden (the rest I do on my own time). It's writing experience. It's something for my resume. And it helps me feel productive. I feel exactly like Kerri does: "There's even a chance that I work best and am happiest when I face a mental challenge." When I am busy, I am happy and stressed at the same time.

Randomalities:
-I just discovered Mom-In-A-Million's blog and I love it! She writes what I wish I could write about politics.
-Have you all heard of Pinterest? Such a beautiful, beautiful timesuck. Here's my profile. Let me know if you'd like an invite. I especially love my Recipes and Kiddo Ideas boards. There's some great recipes and ideas on there that I can't wait to try.
-I saw Limitless yesterday. It wasn't the best movie, but definitely entertaining. Especially the notion of a drug that allows you to access your whole brain. That would be pretty awesome.
-I'm reading Tina Fey's book Bossypants. So, so funny. I have such a girl crush on her. She's smart, funny, and pretty all at the same time.

Redemption

The day was not going well. You finished your third episode of Dora the Explorer, and screamed when I said "no" to another episode. I didn't want to go out in the snow, but I knew it would change your attitude. I asked your Dad to take you, but he didn't want to either. We're not perfect parents, but we redeem ourselves sometimes. I took you out, because you needed it. You were getting cranky. I got you into your snow gear, grumbling inside the whole time. We headed out, you insisting on walking down the stairs yourself as usual. You exclaimed "Snow!" as soon as you saw the courtyard.

The crisp air.

The beauty of fresh snow.

And your sudden mood change all started to change my mood.

We started walking along the road, and I heard the "swish-swish" of your snow pants rubbing together as you walked. Your snow gear is a mish-mash of styles and sizes, but mostly sizes. Your boots are size 5, and are getting too small. They will barely last us the winter season. Your hat is getting snug even though it is supposed to be one size fits all. Your coat, however, is the same coat we used on you LAST YEAR! I have a hard time believing it, even though I see it every time we put it on you. It's 6-12 months, and you're still wearing it at 19 months.

There are puddles along the way and I show you how to splash, though I might regret that later. We continue along our way. You trip and as I'm coming to help, you ask for it. We've been working on saying or signing "help" when you need it, and you did it. I felt the familiar sense of pride I feel when you master something new. You get up and keep going, pointing out trees, walking through more puddles, and saying "car" or "truck" whenever one drives by. After more wandering, you reach your arms up to me for me to pick you up and you say "Dada." I ask if you want to go home, and you say "Yeah." You are ready go go back in before me, which never happens. Our walks don't always end on good terms for that reason. I hold you for the walk back, singing "ABC" and "The Itsy Bitsy Spider" to you. We arrive home, both as happy as can be.

P.S. Hopefully Brayden reads this someday, and if he does- your dad was putting on his boots so he could come outside as we came in. He asked if you wanted to go back out with him, and you of course said "yeah." So you got to have two walks out in the snow, and your dad redeemed himself too.

Five Minutes

A subtle, but perfect moment. Five minutes of joy as a family of three.

We sit squished on our two person loveseat. You, your dad and me.

I say to your dad, "I can't believe how lucky we are," and he replies "I know." And what do you say? "Yeah."

Daddy asks you for a kiss, and you willingly give. I ask you “Brayden, do you love Momma?” And you exclaim “Yeah!” and cuddle into my lap for a hug, laying your head on my shoulder.

I lean into your father and we settle into a family hug. You say “Dada, Momma, Bubba,” and I just feel so happy my heart hurts.

At 19 months old, you are so sure of our love for you. You are the center of our world, and you know it. I wish that certainty could always stay with you, but I know it won‘t. As much as it pains me to even think about, at some point you will question our love. It will happen when we make parenting mistakes, which are and will continue to be a common occurrence. I know bringing another child into the picture will make you, in your innocence and immaturity, feel like you are being replaced. It will likely happen when you are a teenager and I struggle thru your fight for independence. And the feeling might happen again when I leave this earth and leave you behind.

Whenever you feel this way, I wish you could see that scene. Those minutes where your father and I simply expressed our love for you, and you accepted it and loved us back. No conditions, no inhibitions. Challenges will come, and our family strength will be tested. I know I have remembered this moment to recover from sad moments and I wish that you could use it in times of need too.

A Dada, a Momma, a Bubba and five minutes of perfect harmony.



This week, we want you to imagine that after you have died and your daughter/son will be given the gift of seeing a single five-minute period of your life through your eyes, feeling and experiencing those moments as you did when they occurred. What five minutes would you have him/her see?

Note: I've been following this website for some time and even have done some of the prompts, but this is the first time I've felt brave enough to share. I have to say that I was deeply moved by Katie's amazing piece and felt like I needed to get my family's couch story down.