2 Movie Reviews

I watched 2 movies the past couple of nights that I find "review" worthy.

The first I watched last night, it was called I am David. Decent movie. I was not disappointed in the time put forth in watching it. It is about a boy named David who escapes from a concentration camp with a sack with very little to survive on. Through out the movie there are "instructions" being relayed, for the viewer and a mental reminder for the young boy. The instruction need to be followed by the viewer in order to be made sense of later at the end of the movie. I found the movie to be a personal journey for the boy. A journey of self discovery. He had no idea who he was literally and figuratively. He also needed to discover the world. He grew up in a horrible world, a concentration camp. His idea and views of the world were dark, depressing, and sad. The first time he sees a field of flowers, the smell of fresh baked bread, a warm touch by an old woman, all mark moments of sweetness. The first time he ever smiles is rather touching. He even asks if he had just smiled. I found myself wondering what that must be like, to "wake up". I find the boy having had an awakening to the goodness of life and of people, that there be no need to fear all the time.

The second movie I watched this evening. It was called The Remains of the Day. Waist of 2 hours. I kept waiting for the head butler to have his "awakening" just as David in the previous movie had. But the butler never did. I was rather disappointed. He lived every moment of every day of his entire life for someone else, his Employer. He did not have any thoughts on any matters, or at least he never vocalized them, he never listened to anyone, he never really lived. And to make it all worse, he let a beautiful opportunity of "awakening" slip right through his proper fingers. I must say it did give an excellent view into the life of an old world English butler. Tough job. He was faithful to one person and one person only. What a depressing life to live.

So, I am exhausted I want more than anything to go to sleep right this moment. But my thoughts on these two movies are too much to not put down here on my blog. Which person am I more alike? The young boy or the old man? Well, I am obviously neither seen as I am a woman, but their characters, which would I be. I feel at times that I am the butler, focusing so much on the duties and responsibilities that I let precious life pass right through my fingers. I want so much to be like the young boy, to look at everything and everyone as if it were my first time to ever see them, to taste, to smell, to touch, as if I had never done such in all my life, to cherish each and every moment.

My ending thought is that I should be both, but ultimately the cherishing should take precedence over the duties. So, I suppose I find both worth my time, the movies ended with me having a better understanding of myself.

Pinata

That word looks funny with out the little squiggly thing over the n. Today before leaving for church I was sitting on the couch patiently awaiting the time to leave and Lydia breaks out in song. She makes up some of the funniest and cute songs, actually come to think of it the songs are quite like what an Oompa Loompa might come up with. Improvisation is what Willy Wonka says. I think she must have gotten it from them.

So, she is singing away and I am just giggling and this of course is way too encouraging. It was probably one of her best yet! I will do my best to try and relay the song to you. Don't even ask me the tune that too is made up. Here is the song, keep in mind the song is about me, it will be funnier later at the end.

You are so sweet
You are so delicious
You look so tasty
I want to gobble you up

You look like a pinanna
Full of candy
I want to hit you
Until the candy falls out

By this point I am laughing so hard I have to ask her what on earth a pinanna is. She tells me it is the funny shaped things at birthday parties that you hit and candy comes out. OK, so I explain the proper way to say it. She continues on with her song, singing pretty much the same stuff. Then she comes over to me, here is the finale of the song (I wish I recorded it!), and in slow motion using sound effects and everything, she pretends to swing a stick at me. Using her little fingers she comes to me with little tickle like grabs, pulls "candy" out of my sides and starts gobbling my arms (she uses just her lips, like a horse would, and "gobbles" me up, this is not uncommon for her).

Seriously the most hilarious thing she has ever done! Can I use serious and hilarious in the same sentence?

Romance

What does romance or romantic mean? The subject of romance was on my mind recently and it occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, I have a false or naive, and too girlish of an idea of what it actually means. Here is what I found...

Webster's Eleventh Edition: romance - 1. medieval tale based on legend, chivalric love and adventure, or the supernatural 2. a prose narrative treating imaginary characters involved in heroic, adventurous, or mysterious events 3. a love story in the form of a novel 4. to try to influence by lavishing personal attention, gifts, or flattery.

Those definitions are exactly what I expected romance to be, and it has often made me sad that I don't have that kind of "romance" in my life. Kevin and I recently watched a particular romantic comedy, these are our favorites, and for some odd reason Kevin was in no mood to watch it necessarily with me. We are a rather cuddly couple and enjoy snuggling up to a good movie. But this night in particular, for reasons unknown to me, he refused to sit any where near me. He sat clear on the opposite side of the couch and pouted most of the movie, he even got up and left right before the ending. This was so unusual that I began wondering if it was me. Did I stink? Were my legs too hairy? Was the room too hot to sit close to me? Seriously, these would all be reasonable explanations, but this was not the case that evening.

So, upon finishing this adorable romantic comedy by myself I found myself in deep thought. And none of the thoughts were good. Don't get me wrong, I love my relationship with my husband. But I found myself wondering why I didn't have the romance in my life that is so often reflected in movies. Come on ladies, don't be shy, I know I am not alone in thinking such things. I have always enjoyed romantic movies and novels, not the gross stuff! Sweet love stories like Anne of Green Gables and Little Women and I finally read Pride and Prejudice. All amazing stories where the men all seem to fall over the women and shower them with the most unimaginable flattery! And probably the most recent movie that knocks my socks off in regards to romance is the Notebook. The ending in particular, as badly as I want to ruin it for someone who doesn't know what I am talking about I will not, is enough to make me cry for hours even after the movie has ended! So, I am a pathetic, hopeless romantic.

Now, knowing this great weakness of mine, let me explain the process of my thoughts following the experience of a husband who normally snuggles with me during movies, all of a sudden not even wanting to sit near me. I ended the evening in sadness and feeling a bit alone. But through my sleep and waking in the morning I came to think I had the wrong idea of what romance is.

Yes, romance is everything exemplified in movies and books, it is everything that Webster
explains in the official definition. I have in all reality fooled myself and have lived a naive life, a silly girl expecting a knight in shining armor holding a dozen long stemmed roses and riding a most beautiful stallion to come and rescue me from this wicked world.

Romance is so much more than that and it is humiliating to admit that it has taken me the great number of years that it has to come to this realization. I believe true romance to be when my husband and I are in the car and then out of no where I realize he has been holding my hand and I wonder, "when did he do that?"; when I peak in on him and see him curled up with our girls and he is reading them a story or just have a good ol' tickle fight; when my husband asks me what I want him to make us for dinner; when my husband says "give me a list, what would you like me to do today" with out me even ever dropping hints; when he actually gives me a kiss hello or good bye (he is not a believer in PDA, even at home!); when he sits by me in church and holds my hand; when I over hear him speaking kind words about me to his family; when he grabs me in the kitchen and starts twirling me around making our girls giggle as we dance around our kitchen. The list just goes on and on.

So, now that I have matured I admit, my husband is the most romantic man alive. He is my knight in khaki pants and plaid shirt, driving a tiny Suzuki Aerio, carrying a 50 pound backpack full of mind boggling books of physics, chemistry, and icky math, and he DROPS everything to hold me and say "I missed you today". And in all reality if I were to ever write a story about our love story, I would have to admit that it would be quite romantic. Who knows maybe someday I will.

The Sights, Sounds, and Smells of Spring

Ah, springtime. I love springtime. It is my absolute favorite season, Autumn is runner up. For the first time this season my daughters and I finally made our way out of doors for our annual "new life" walk. We headed to Barber Park. This park runs right along side the Boise River. Just after starting our walk we heard a sound that one does not ever hear in apartment living. It was the rhythmic tap, tap, tapping of a woodpecker. We stopped on a bridge to see if we could find the maker of this beautiful natural music. To our delight the bird was not too far off and was easily spotted first by Lydia. We crouched down and quietly observed as he pecked away at the wood in hopes of finding some lunch. One thing I love about nature walks with my daughters is the opportunity not only for adventure but for learning and observing.

Just after crossing the bridge we found some foots paths leading off into various parts of the park that off the paved path. We chose these paths knowing that these paths would take us to parts of the park that bicycles were not allowed, joggers did not jog, and voices were kept in a hushed tone. This is when we really felt close to nature. The trees were just budding, many flowers had opened and the animals were all so alive. There were so many delicious smells in the air. Several times we would stop, close our eyes, and take deep cleansing breaths of fresh air. As our eyes were shut we could hear the cold, newly melted snow of the mountains, rushing over the stones of the Boise River. A few fishermen were silently sitting along its banks and as a pair of mallards flew over head everyone watched to see where they might land.

At one point in our adventure we came to a little inlet completely surrounded by the gradually thickening brush, and silently wading in the inlet was a single mallard, perhaps searching for a place for his mate to lay eggs; you never know. With our stealth like steps and "no talking" moment we were able to observe him for quite a few minutes before he noticed us and took off quit quickly to flight and moving several yards further down river.

Looking in fallen logs for critters waking from a winter sleep, investigating interesting growth on a tree trunk, a "spooky" web filled hole in a dead tree, mounds of dirt thrown out of holes by some unknown creatures, a very large unidentifiable bird of prey that flew just barely over head that we wished would just stop mid air for one brief moment for us to take a closer look but refused to slow down even for us, and enjoying the warm sun and cool spring breeze were all favorites on our walk.

At one Lydia came whimpering to me and said a wild animal bit her. I took a closer look and found it to be a scratch from one of the thorn bushes she had a run in with. I explained and showed to Lydia the "wild animal" that caused her such pain. She said, "oh, I thought it was a wild animal". Apparently the scratch hurt pretty bad. She was really quite enthralled by it and paid little attention to anything else after receiving it. On the car ride back home she poured water on it and said that the water healed her finger and made it all better. She said upon the miraculous healing of her scratch, "I knew Heavenly Father was real! See He healed my finger." I smiled at my daughter's great faith and said, "you should thank Him for thinking of you and blessing you". She did right then and there.

I love nature!

Sabbath Day Lessons

As I mentioned this weekend is General Conference for my church. In between the 2 separate 2 hour sessions the local PBS plays news reports involving members of my church. I am so honored to be a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Members all over the world are doing such incredible things. Just a few of the stories mentioned involved a group who travel from impoverished country to impoverished country. They visit the hospitals and offer their program, a service provided by my church. The program is a training school of sorts to train individuals in the birthing of babies. Previous to the training the infant deaths in the countries were very high. Now, with individuals properly trained mothers and their new born infants return home, alive and well.

Another situation involves a wheel chair program. Wheel chairs are provided to individuals in impoverished countries who have spent their life time crawling or scooting on the ground or being carried by a family member. These disabled individuals were never able to attend school or get jobs. The Church goes in and provides wheel chairs and opens doors of opportunity to these individuals who have never known any different. The smiles and tears of joy on the people's faces brought tears to my eyes and joy to my heart. To be associated with such an organization, such a church is an honor and I all I hope for is to be worthy to call myself a saint and to be counted among such individuals as those mentioned.

My thought following the warmth of the spirit testifying to me the power of Christ's church was this..."How could this work not be the work of God?"


Another experience this morning involved me reading with my girls from my church's children's magazine called the Friend. Inside was an article about a man from Nigeria. He was recalling his youth and a lesson he learned from his father. He recalled a tradition when a gift is given to a family it is the Father's role to say when the gift will be enjoyed. A particular gift of food had been given his family and the young boy could not wait for his father's return home so they could enjoy the food as a family. The young boy begged and pleaded until the mother gave in to the boys pleas. The sweet mother did not want to offend the father by not respecting his role, but also did not want the boy to go on in hunger. When the father returned home and learned of the incident. He took the boy aside and taught him a valuable lesson that not only stayed with him all his life but he has also passed onto me and I too have learned a valuable lesson. "My father was disappointed that I had not shown contentment for what I already had. He taught me that peace of mind and a good life are only for those who are content with what they have." This wise father's counsel swelled within my heart. I had a wonderful discussion with my own children about what this meant. We each promised to be more happy with what we have and not show discontentment with life and what we have been given.

I am thankful for the gospel of Jesus Christ. I am thankful for individuals within Christ's true church who have taught me by their examples of hard work and service. I am thankful to be a member of this true church, Christ's only true church upon the earth. I know it is true. There is a prophet on the earth today, who leads and guides us. We have not been left alone on this earth to walk blindly. We have scripture, continuing revelation, that lights the way to eternity.

Man Pregnant

Can you believe this head line? I can't either. A co-worker told me about it in passing. I didn't believe it at first, so I had to Google it for myself. I will fore warn you, I may get offensive to some people out there with the thoughts I have in regards to this Pregnant Man.

First, this man was born a woman. She is now a he. Every single ounce of Suzanna screams, this is wrong. I am all for people have individuality, but I believe that ethically can only go so far. I am not a supporter of gay rights. I am a firm believer that God created Man and Woman and we have very unique and individual roles. One cannot be the other.

Second, when this person made the decision to become a man I believe he gave up all rights of womanhood. I heard a woman on a news report in regards to this man saying something about him not being selfish. Err! Wrong answer. I don't think a human being could be more selfish. He/She said something to the effect of "I wanted to keep my female organs so I could one day experience child birth." Then stay a woman! What about the child that this person is bringing into the world. Has He/She not thought of her (the baby is a girl)? The woman who was shouting all over the news being for the pregnant man gave me a head ache. I thought her to be a horrible example of a woman. I am young and obviously too behind the times to think that yelling at another man is womanly, you should see the clip. I am all for woman's rights, but once again, God created female and male and we are two totally different creations. There is no comparing the two.

My religious views play a huge role in my opinion here. It isn't just how I was raised. As an adult I have my own thoughts, views, and ideas on life. I believe that some things are good...and some things are just completely wrong. And this is one of those things that is completely and utterly wrong. It is not God's way. And that makes me sad. I don't think he intended for his children to come to a world that has become a world where his creations, men and women, no longer what to be what He created them. This world has become complete and utter chaos.

That is all I will say about this.

Waste

My daughters and I were watching a show called Beeker's World this morning on PBS. First, I'd like to say how much I appreciate public television. The shows offered are so educational and clean (no pun intended in regards to my current topic!). I wish I could donate to programs such as these. That is something else I'd do with a million! Support wonderful organizations. There are so many out there. Do you ever feel there is too much of the things you would love to do and not enough MONEY to do it with? I feel that every day. And it isn't just STUFF that I'd spend the money on. It would all go to good causes! AUGH! "If I were a rich man!" (I am feeling the need to watch Fiddler on the Roof.)

So, on the show Beeker's World they were teaching children (and obviously one adult) where sewage goes. It was quite discusting but also fascinating. The point I want to mention though is that he said that the water that goes down the street drain and gutters is never treated, "it goes right into the local oceans, rivers, and lakes". I was discusted! My seven year old daughter said, "that's discusting! I am never swimming in the ocean again!"

That really got us talking about all the trash and litter that we see on a regular basis. I know that there are some many things harming our environment and there is really only so much one person can do. But if we all did just little bit better at how much waste we have we would be making a huge difference.

Just after the last major snow melted away our apartment's parking lot and gutters were filled with all sorts of debri. I went out and with frozen fingers dug out of the gutters 2 garbage bags full of trash! Some of it I couldn't even get up because it was embedded and frozen into the drain cover. I was so upset at the residents in the area for their lack of concern for our little community within the apartments. Just imagine what it is like in bigger communities. When I learned where that nasty polluted gutter water goes I was shocked!

I hope I have inspired at least one more person to not litter and if they do see litter to pick it up.

Tradition vs. Habit

Today, as others of my faith know, was a special day to listen to the leaders of my church speak to us as a whole and enlighten and encourage us. One sister in particular sparked some thoughts. Her name is Cheryl C Lant and she is the General President over the children's organization called the Primary. She spoke on traditions. When I think of traditions I usually think of holiday traditions. All the other "stuff" I do I just think of as being habit or routine. But after listening to her talk I realized that all the "stuff" I do on a regular basis is tradition. And upon realizing this it brought a whole new meaning to me about what I do as a homemaker. This realization has made the day to day "stuff" that I do as a mother have such a deeper meaning, it has encouraged me and lifted me. I feel like those things I do have meaning beyond just taking care of my kids. I cannot fully explain what a magnificent feeling came over me. I have always felt what I do as a mother, and what all women in the world do as mothers, is the most important of all "callings" in life. But to realize that something I thought basic, such as having a "tradition" of respect for one's self and others is not so basic but deep and profound, WOW! This is how I was raised. I thought it common. I never thought such things that come naturally to me to be thought of as tradition, I really thought of it as being "stuff". Now, let me explain this "stuff" that I continue to refer to. To me, when I say "stuff", I am referring to the fact that I am a strict, firm, and organized parent. The things I do others might think of as "uptight", "controlled", "mean", and "too routine".

Here are some examples...I don't tolerate disrespect for authority, such as teachers, or adults or disrepect to others property, God's creations, or one's self. Also, my children have had the same bed time and bed time routine since they were babies, now don't get me wrong, there are times when bed time fluctuates, but for the most part this "tradition" has not changed. And now that they are getting older that bed time will gradually move back. But, I can be a selfish parent and bed time is Mom and Dad time, so that means that even though they are getting older I will still send them to their rooms at the same time for their own personal quiet time. Which brings up another point, I have also always been a firm believer in "quiet time". Kids need that down time, whether or not they nap, they need some down time. Play is hard work. Not to mention the parent also needs that quiet time. We also attend church every Sunday and pray and read scripture. I never thought of that as a tradition. I just thought it habit. But tradition sounds so much more heart felt and sincere than "habit". It is habit to brush your teeth, a tradition to eat healthy foods. Doesn't that sound more beautiful and inviting? I'm not going to DIET! I am going to start a tradition of healthy eating and exercise.

Who in their right mind says no to TRADITION! So, I think from now I shall have this mentality...Everything in my life that means something to me is now tradition, out with the old habits and in with the traditions!