6 Things My Mom is Notorious For

  1. Getting front-row parking spots
    I have no idea how she manages this. For years, she consistently gets parking spots in the very front row. All the time. It’s ridiculous.
  2. Cooking without recipes
    My family has coined the term “Tarla Originals” when my mom makes an awesome meal without a recipe.”Wow, this is delicious! How’d you make it?”
    “Uh, well, I just took one thing and threw a bunch of stuff I thought would go well in with it.”
    “Oh. Did you write down what you used so you can remake it?”
    “Uh, no…”Seriously – my mom just has this extra sense of knowing what stuff goes together. On the rare occasion she has no idea how to cook some weird meat or vegetable, she always asks around and looks it up and then makes it delicious anyway. Some of her skill of cooking without a cookbook has been passed down to me. I’m not as confident with it yet, but I’ve thrown together some yummy stuff. The problem comes when I want to make something like my momma’s pot roast or some classic Tarla dinner and she can’t really give me a recipe to imitate it. This is tragic and special all in its own way.
  3. Being resourceful
    This is one of the most beneficial skills my mother has taught me. She’s taught me that if don’t have what I need, find a way to either get it or makeshift it or find it. One example of this is when I was learning multiplication tables. I just couldn’t get down the instantaneous memorization of every multiplication tables, but I know lots of little tricks of finding out (other than using a calculator). Just last night, I had an issue that her resourcefulness helped fix: I recently reformatted my computer, but forgot to have my boyfriend re-install Microsoft Office (he has my copies), so I don’t have Word or PowerPoint or anything I need to work on any of my big school projects coming up next week. Her idea was to check to see if there are any available free trials to download until I can get my copies again. And there was. Perfection. Another example: Shirt wrinkled when I walk into work? Use the milk steamer on our cappuccino machine to steam the wrinkles out.She has always shown and taught me her resourcefulness. This has got her so far, and I know that what she has taught me will get me far, too.
  4. Thinking big
    Seriously. My mom always has ideas. Big, scary ideas. Ideas I could never come up with. She is brilliant and innovative, and it’s like a game to her to try and figure out how to make her big things happen.
  5. Being brave
    This is how she gets her big ideas into action. My momma is so brave. She’s been through so much, and she’s still always on her feet, always finding some way to play, and always moving forward. Her business and mission (which revolves around revolutionizing homeschooling and education in general) have both involved hard journeys that have involved a lot of criticism and drama. The stories she tells me about things people say and do regarding her mission and business astound me and I know I could never have the strength to carry on through the things she’s gone through and fought against. My mom rocks, and you better not try and stop her.
  6. Being the best mom ever
    This couldn’t be more true. For all of the reasons listed above and more, my mom is the best. She’s raised me – ME. I don’t know if you’re aware but I’m a BIG HANDFUL to handle, and boy have I put her through a lot (shout out to my teenage years?). She supports and encourages me no matter what. She’s always the one I call when I need help with anything. She’s great under pressure and I know I can tell her any situation I may need help in (emergencies, tickets, car accidents, fights with friends, etc).

My mom is just amazing, beautiful, brilliant, resourceful, strong, hilarious, and awesome. I can’t even tell you.

That’s my Momma on the left, and her best friend on the right. =]

(Pssst. Go hug your mom!)

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Anyone Who Likes Going to the Dentist is a Psycho

Seriously – who would ever prefer to go to the dentist over a normal doctor? Or any kind of specialist? Or any other medical-related anybody? If you’re sitting there thinking you would – WHYYYY? Think about it – NO other professional’s tools are more suited for torture than dentists’, with the drills and the sucky tubes and everything else that goes whirrrrrr or gsshhhhhhhhhh.

Apparently I waited a whole year between cleanings instead of going in every six months. Oops. But at this point the only thing I can do about it is go in now. So that’s exactly what I did.

I went between errands, by myself, like an adult (anyone who doesn’t understand why going to the dentist alone is a major accomplishment has never been to the dentist or isn’t real). I signed myself in, chit-chatted with the receptionist, and then patiently fed and bred virtual farm animals on my cell phone until the hygienist came for me. She was new, so we politely made small talk about my school, major, and the miscellaneous pieces of chips or popcorn I was sure I had stuck under my gums (one of my gums? a specific  point in my gums? gum? There’s no way to win with this sentence).

Since it had been a whole year she wanted to take some x-rays  to see if anything’s noticeably changed and whatever. She pulls this giant laser-gun-looking contraption and puts it right up next to my face. She then proceeds to lay this heavy, lead apron over my torso. I know it’s to block the radiation, but I just had to ask…
“So if this apron thing is needed to block damage via radiation… what about my brain?”
She responded with “Oh, that’s to block the radiation to your major organs. But the radiation just scatters around the room anyways.”

…GREAT. So not only is my brain definitely completely exposed to direct and residual/scattered radiation, but my internal organs are also still at risk for radiation regardless of this giant lead apron! Cool. I felt totally safe at ease. And then she has me bite on this giant plastic square with a wire hanging out of my mouth to the computer and the corners are cutting into my gum (gums?) and roof of my mouth. Of course, she ends up having to move it several times, causing further discomfort. She then decided it would be a good idea to ask about my family and details of my major with this square of pain in my mouth. I just thought, she has to be kidding me… But nope.

Finally the dangerous laser ray of death was put away and she went about poking around my mouth. I know from experience that if they stick their pokey stick into your tooth and it sticks when they pull it out, it means there’s a cavity. And that’s what happened today. I attempted to make a noise as similar to “uh oh” as I could, and she said “yeahhhh, uh oh…” and kept poking away. Ummmmm, okaycool. Aren’t you supposed to tell me what’s up and that I shouldn’t worry and it’s small and easily fixed? (hint: the answer is yes) When I had a moment to ask, I said “so is everything like, totally rotten?” Note my hyperbolic language, just begging for an encouraging and comforting response. Instead, what I got was, “no, not everything.”

At this point I began to panic a little. I assumed by her response that my teeth apparently had holes in them you can see through and were about to fall out of my face if I exhaled too hard. I began feeling my throat get tight. She says, “Do you drink a lot of pop?”

My heart skipped a beat. I stopped drinking soda 5 years ago! I thought, Seriously? My teeth look like some one who uses soda as mouthwash every day? Nooooo.  I told her I never drink soda and she hmmmed. The panicking continued, as did the poking. (Just a little background information – I got my wisdom teeth taken out about 2 years ago and it was the most traumatizing experience of my life and only further conditioned me to be freaked when at the dentist.)

I began to cry (only a little) (but only because it was totally justified) (because I’m an adult) (and I totally didn’t want my mother to be with me and make everything better).

What made the crying worse is that I had my hands trapped in this lovely, warmed wax treatment contraption. Normally, this is the only good part about going to the dentist. You stick your hands in this hot wax, wrap them in plastic, then stick them in these awesome, heated pockets and at the end of the appointment, your hands feel ridiculously soft. Only today, I felt trapped and constrained. And embarrassed and helpless because there really wasn’t anything I could do when a teardrop slid from the sides of my eyes. After a minute she noticed and asked if I was okay and got me a tissue and dabbed at them herself, but it was weird. I tried to explain that I just didn’t like going to the dentist and that my wisdom tooth surgery was super traumatizing and all she did was hmm again.

At this point I was ready to change dentists completely. I wanted to be hypnotized or something so some one could force me to relax and I wouldn’t have to worry about making myself relax (only furthering my stress, especially when my attempts are unsuccessful – it’s a vicious cycle).  Fortunately, when the actual dentist came in, he was lovely and calming and reassuring and sweet;  He actually told me my teeth look great, any occlusions I had were minor and easily fixed and my teeth were even a good color. He did confirm that the occlusions looked like what comes when people drink pop, but assured me they weren’t a big deal.

I managed to keep myself together through talking with him and scheduling my cavity treatments with the receptionist, but once the office door shut behind me, the stress crying began. (Most of you know what I’m talking about – you’re fine; everything’s fine, but you were simply under so much stress that your body just makes you cry because of the hormones released from the fight-or-flight response that’s triggered from said stressor.) I called my mom to talk about it and hopefully calm down more, and she told me she had cried and wished she had some one with her during her own recent appointment. Moms rock. Did you know they’re real people? They’re human!

Naturally, to comfort myself, I picked up a Starbucks Pumpkin Spice latte with caramel drizzle in all of its syrupy, sweet goodness (topped with whipped clouds of creamy comfort). Seriously, I have no idea why my teeth would show signs similar to people who drink carbonated sugar water AKA soda.

2009

So 2009 has started out as the best year of my life.  I have so many great things going on for me. Here’s a genera overview of my life in 2009:

1. I MADE MARIA IN MY SCHOOL’S PRODUCTION OF THE SOUND OF MUSIC!!!

2. I’m really making friends and loving meeting people in the play. I told one of my fellow choir girls, “I’m excited about acting wih my friends and making friends with the people I’m acting with.”

3. [Private]

4.  I don’t know if this is good or not, but I’m kind of adjusting to being an only child?  Yes, I still have those moments where I’m like, “Oh, I can’t wait to tell Deanna this!” or “I need her opinion on what to say to this guy ASAP!” and I can’t, but I’m kinda getting used to it.

5. For instance, she doesn’t know that I’m starting a music project with a guy I met at auditions for the musical. But she does now.  Because she’s read this.  ;]

7. I’ve really noticed an improvement in my singing, and especially my nerves. They’ve definitely curved. I still get nervous, but it’s pretty much my body flipping out; I can calm my mind pretty well.

8. The term is almost over. That means no more Chemistry after next Friday! And I get to start out fresh in AP History.

9. My goldfish still arent dead? I haven’t cleaned their tank since summer, probably, I feed them only once a day if I remember, they’re in my old room so I never see them. I’m the worst fish mama ever and they’re still alive. I bet it’s because they can’t help but love me so much.

10. I’ve recovered. Last year, I really had a “funk” going on. I was angry, constantly self-conscious, I had zero confidence (which was reflected in pretty much every part of my life), I had no friends at school, I freaked out over my grades (all A’s, but if it was an A- or a B, I would pretty much cry), I was depressed, my mom and I fought all the time.  I’m better! Like, 110%!  Like I said at the beginning of this post, this has started off being the best year of my life. I’ve been happy (when people ask how I am, I honestly answer “good”!) and confident, and I make friends all the time.   =]

11. I think I’ve figured out what I want to do with my life.  I really think musical theatre. I LOVE acting. I LOVE singing. So.. why not put them together?  All the other things on my list of possible career interests can be part time jobs, or jobs while I go around auditioning, or hobbies. 

12. Unfortunately, I have to leave for school now. Which means sitting through all my classes until rehearsal (after school). So school takes forever now, because I can’t wait to practice. 

What’s your 2009 been like so far?

Then He Loves You.

(Repost: from Brandy)

If he always gives you the last bite of his sandwich or the first lick of his ice cream cone, then he loves you.

If he’s seen your high school yearbook photo and says he still loves you, then he loves you.

If he’s counted all your freckles,- even the ones behind your knees, then he loves you.

If, right before sleep, he leans in, buries his nose in your hair and inhales, and when you ask what he’s doing, he smiles a smile that reminds you of a secret and says ‘nothing’, then he loves you.

If he tells you that you make chickenpox sexy, then he loves you. He’s lying, but he loves you.

If he’s laid beside you in a too small bed, in a too dark room and listened as you told him all the ways you feel like you are failing, then he loves you.

If he remembers the name of your arch enemy from the sixth grade and hates her because he knows all about how she started the rumor that you only used boys deodorant, when you didn’t– then he loves you. And he hates her. But he loves you.

If he’s ever attempted to wash your hair because you said that scene in “Out of Africa” really gets you, then he loves you.

If he makes sure that you never have to sit beside his friend Dominic, the one who never washes his hair and smells like the bottom of a dumpster, then he loves you.

If you are Salma Hayek, then he loves you.

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Have a baby now? Or never, ever later?

 

     If there’s one thing about my future I’m sure about, it’s that I want to be a mom some day.  But recently, an unrealistic and totally distressing question popped into my head:

If your only options about having children were to have a baby now, or never have a baby at all, ever, which would you choose? (adoption isn’t  an option, either.)

     I still don’t know which I would pick.

 

     Do you?