Brielle's First Year

Unexpected you came into my life - a longed for wish that I had nearly given up on.  You changed everything.  You in black and white, a new heart beating on screen.  Mine.  You are my second daughter.  I know a thing or two about being a second daughter.  I hope you know I expect you to be nothing but yourself.  To love who you are, not in spite of how different you may be from your older sister, but because of your unique strengths that come with being different.  Already you are full of love.  Hugging sister when she is sad.  Patting my arm as you lean into my chest.  Lighting up when Dad walks through the door, arms outstretched to him, ready to be held.  I hope you never lose the guileless way you love without fear.  Few people retain the ability to love without holding anything back.  At night when I hold you when everyone else is sleeping the clarity and focus you bring to my life is like a razor's edge.  The complications of everyday melt away as your features turn soft in sleep.  All there is is your warm trusting body in my arms, your precious trusting soul in my care...it seems an overwhelming responsibility.  And yet here you are, a testament to hope, a banner for all the good in this world, brightness in an uncertain future. 

Temple Square

We'd been meaning to get down to Temple Square for the past few weeks.  The stars finally aligned and on Brielle's first birthday we headed downtown.  We drove around for about twenty minutes trying to find a park in which time Brielle fell fast asleep.

Needless to say she was not thrilled about being woken up to get into a stroller in cold, cold weather.  Ava commandeered the camera and the random shots are all hers. 

 The white blob on my cheek is a snowflake falling in front of my face, in case you were wondering. 

It was beautiful, but like I said very, very cold and very, very crowded.  We rushed around the square as Brielle became more and more whiny.

This is not how I envisioned my first birthday party, Mom.  Can you not see the exposed skin on my shins?  Hello?

Random people captured by Ava on film.

Slight tangent: When we were crossing the street I noticed that Brig was still standing back on the sidewalk talking to a tall blonde woman.  Ava and I and Brielle hurried across the street and waited for Brig.  Ava said, "Who's Dad talking to?"  I replied that I had no idea although I thought to myself, Probably a relative.  See Brig's parents both come from large families making the chances of us bumping into a cousin or an aunt or uncle much higher than the general population.  One time after we had moved into a new ward we went to Brig pointed out a tall woman and said, "I think that's my cousin."  I remember saying, "You think?"  Who doesn't know for certain if someone is a cousin or not?  My husband.  Anyway, after he crossed the street I said, "Who was that?" and I just smiled when he said, "My Aunt Char's daughter."  i.e. another cousin. 

Ava wanted to ride in one of the carriage for hires circling the block.  Didn't happen.  Ava wanted some hot cocoa a vendor was selling.  Didn't happen.  There was a long line, plus we had no cash on us.  When we were in the car Ava said, "Why didn't we get hot cocoa?"  When we explained we didn't have any cash to buy the cocoa she said, "But they give you the money to buy the cocoa.  They hand it to you."  I'm not sure how she got that idea in her head but there was no convincing her otherwise.  When we got home Brielle had had it and I promptly put her to bed without blowing out any candles or unwrapping her present.  She didn't seem to mind.  Next year we will try to get to Temple Square a bit earlier.  Maybe we'll avoid the crowds that way.

The Jump Around

I knew Christmas break was going to be rough when Ava started crying when I told her she would be out of school for a few weeks.  Apparently, it's boring to be home with mom.  Obviously I must be doing something wrong as I used to fake sick all growing up so I could stay home with my mom.  Anyway, through a bunch of great deals on sites such as google offers I scored some discounts on some activities we could do to keep life interesting for Ava.  Jump Around Utah was one of them.

Most of these pictures are blurry which either says something about my inexpensive camera or it speaks to the fact that Ava could not keep still.  Which is kind of the point, right?  She was so excited when we opened the door and came into this place.  Sidenote: See the couple on the right in the above pic?  Yeah, they were in love, I guess because they kept kissing while they moved from bouncy apparatus to bouncy apparatus.  They even went down the tall slide together holding hands.  Another cosmic payback from all the PDA from my past relationships. 

At ten bucks a pop, I'm not sure we'll be regulars here, but I got the deal for three dollars which was money well spent.  The thing I appreciate about this place is that as a parent you don't have to pay for yourself to get in.  My biggest complaint about Discovery Gateway is that I also have to pay to just supervise my kids.  I don't know.  Maybe I'm a cheapskate, but I don't think I should have to pay to stand and watch Ava run from place to place.  Brielle was also very entertained here.  We walked around and around the main bounce bubble and she loved watching all the kids.  After spending a couple of hours we decided to go home.  In true Cooper fashion she was red and sweaty from all the running around.  As soon as we got in our car she said, "Can we come back here tomorrow?" 

A Brush with Fame

In our society fame is a very prominent feature that I think most kids are aware of from an early age...unless you live outside of mainstream culture.  For example as a seven or eight year old I remember one Sunday in primary class very vividly.  The teacher, one Kenny Balls a.k.a. bus driver extraordinaire, asked us who we wanted to be like.  My answer: Tina Turner.  Apparently I related to her huge hair and admired her fierce attitude.  I quickly felt shame bloom in my heart as Kenny told us he wanted to be like Jesus.  I remember thinking of course!  I'm such a fool.  Why didn't I say that?  I mean maybe Tina Turner is a great person.  But back in the day I didn't know anything about her besides she was famous.  And that was enough for me.

Maybe it's the same reason Ava loves wearing her cousin's hand-me-down shirts of Hannah Montana although Ava's never seen a single episode of that show or heard a song by Miley Cyrus.  She knows she's famous, and that's enough for her.

My Grandma Margaret used to buy the gossip mags.  As teens I remember we'd plop ourselves down on the warm radiators lining Grandma's living room and pass around the copies of National Enquirer.  The articles were dubious at best, and looking back it's funny I liked to see Julia Roberts grocery shopping - oh she favors Gala Apples...how interesting, or Melanie Griffiths without makeup...the horror! 

I have had the privilege of meeting a famous performer.  Dorky, though he may seem now, back in the day...well okay, maybe he was dorky then too.  My boyfriend from high school from the time he was little really loved magic tricks.  So of course he grew up watching illusionists.  When I heard David Copperfield was coming to town I wanted to go with him to see his show.  My family used to gather round the t.v. set and watch David Copperfield's specials.  Who doesn't remember when Bob Saget David Copperfield magicked himself to the other side of The Great Wall of China?!

The night came and his mom dropped us off at the venue in SLC.  We were giddy with anticipation.  Shortly after we walked through the doors a woman came up to me and asked me if I wanted to be involved in one of Mr. Copperfield's illusions onstage that night.  I think if it weren't such a cool thing to my boyfriend at the time I probably wouldn't have said yes.  Being up on stage in front of a lot of people is the last thing I like to subject myself to.  So I reluctantly said yes, the sweat gathering on my palms even then.  I was led down to a room where another poor girl had been picked to be up on stage as well.  We both signed confidentiality agreements.  Then we were told we were going to be the two lucky gals who got their panties switched by David Copperfield's amazing magical powers.  Woo-hoo!  At this time I was considering making a run for the exit, but it seemed too late to back out.  We were briefed on the roles we were to play and what to expect.  Then we were released to go to our normal seats.

I waited nervously next to my boyfriend until the big moment came when creepy thin man Mr. Copperfield prowled the aisles for his next volunteers.  I raised my hand hoping no one could see what had to be massive pit stains by then.  Cool under pressure I am not.  David's roving eye caught mine and he whisked me up onstage.  It was hot up there.  I could hardly breath between the anxiety of being caught up there in front of all these people and worrying about how genuine my surprised face would seem when the "magic" happened.  As with all illusionists there was a lot of showmanship that may or may not have involved a fog machine.  I'm hazy on the details.  I was trying simultainiously not to faint or scoff at the obvious size difference between me and the skinny blond volunteer next to me.  Come on people, if David could really switch our panties hers would definitely come back to her hanging off of her boney hips.  I was thin then for sure because I had been on the rice cakes and water diet for a few months.  It's effective but causes wild mood-swings and dizzy spells.  I wouldn't recommend it.  I just know one thing though, I was not as thin as that pretty blond.

Anyway I remember the moment of David Copperfield's triumph when he successfully switched my red panties with her white ones.  The audience clapped as the gorgeous assistants gave us semi-wedgies by pulling out our magicked drawers and turning us around for all to witness.  Then I looked at the girl next to me who had on my red pair of unmentionables and we both made our oh-so-real shocked and amazed faces.  There was a moment, just a brief moment when I thought I was going to burst into laughter at the absurdity of it all.  If it had been one of my close friends next to me I'm sure I would have, but it helped that the girl who had my knickers on her behind was a complete stranger.  Sometimes I wonder about that girl.  If we saw each other now, would our eyes lock across a crowded room?  Would we smile and nod, two comrades in panty hijinks bonded for life by two pairs of red and white Fruit of the Looms?  Maybe.  I'd like to think we would.  After all, there's nothing like swapping undies onstage in front of a packed theater to bring two people together. 

After we exited stage right the assistants congratulated us on a job well done and gave us an 8 x 10 glossy of a very mysterious looking Bill Nye the Science Guy David Copperfield sitting down, resting his back against a wall with his two thin spider legs pulled up to his chest, although spread a good foot or so away from each other so it was hard not to look at his crotch.  In the picture he was wearing a chunky turtleneck sweater and straight leg Calvin Kleins and a pair of loafers.  The assistants then informed us if we waited until everyone left we would get to meet David Copperfield and he would sign our pictures.  I knew my boyfriend would be over the moon.

We waited a good twenty minutes.  I remember feeling rather awkward.  What was I going to say to this man who had performed voo-doo on my Vicki's?  Then here he came, the man of the hour.  He curtly moved through the few volunteers to participate in his show that night and nary a smile touched his thin lips.  I think he barely made eye contact with me.  I ended up saying nothing.  He signed his name over his crotch.  Nice.  My boyfriend was too star struck to say anything either.  After he left I remember feeling let down.  That was it?  The charismatic illusionist of my generation just signed his very charismatic picture of himself and all he really seemed to be feeling at the time was Get me the heck out of here, already.  I felt used.  David, how could you?  I don't let pretty magicians assistants handle my underwear in front of hundreds of people for just anyone, you know.

It's an odd thing, fame.  At the end of the day the famous are just regular people who have boatloads of money, usually big egos, and a hotel room to get back to to wash out the gallon of Aqua Net used to cement that 'do into place.  One thing I will say about David Copperfield.  I do believe he is magical.  How else did he get Claudia Schiffer to date him for all those years?

Mom is Dancing

My baby started walking today.  She's still cautious, but she sure is proud of herself.  I know everyone says this, but it's nearly been a year and it's gone so fast.  I remember bringing her home on Christmas Eve, feeling overwhelmed, happy and weirded out by my c-section incision. 

Ava continues to be jealous when I make any sort of a fuss over Brielle.  I'm beginning to wonder if this will last forever.  When I clap and hug Brielle after she walks to me Ava says, "You never clap for me when I walk."  Uh, yeah.  Cuz you've been walking for five years now.  And then I get paranoid and try to determine how often I praise Ava and wonder if I'm not doing enough to let her know I love her.

But then some days, weeks really, I feel like my whole life revolves around these two girls, if she doesn't get that I love her by now it's her own fault.  The other day after a week of feeling overwhelmed by motherhood I thought to myself, "I wish everyone would just stop needing me so much!"  Then I realized how selfish it sounded.  I should feel glad that people need me.  What if no one needed me?  How would I feel then?  I'd feel great.  Maybe then I could get some reading done.  I only thought that for a second though. 

I turned thirty this past week.  I wasn't looking forward to it.  My twenties saw me married, have a baby, question everything, separate from my husband, get back together with my husband, have another baby and find peace with the idea of marriage and what it means.  I don't have all the answers.  Some days I'm content and some days I think I need a stronger dose of Zoloft.

What I do know for sure is that I am loved.  I have two brothers and two sisters who I know will always be there for me, regardless of the differences in our lives and the miles between us.  When we're all together in one room my heart is so happy.  I have incredible parents who I still would spend every Saturday night with, watching t.v. and talking given the chance.  I have a husband who loves me, even though he knows me to my core and it still boggles my mind.  He is such a good friend, and I look forward to him walking through that door every day.  He makes me laugh and he fortifies me in the days that doubts assail me.  I have my Ava to make me laugh, to amaze me, and to show me how brave one little girl can be.  I have Brielle to snuggle with me, to grin at me and to assert her dominance with her uniquely iron will.  Being the baby she knows how to get what she wants.  And of course I have friends that I grew up with who make me laugh, cheer me up and listen to me when my heart is breaking.

Living in this neighborhood with beautiful old houses, and the people with money who own them is not always easy for me.  I tell myself that having money cannot buy happiness, but man, can it buy a whole lot of other things.  I've been thinking about what life is all about.  My days blend together.  To the world my station in life is small, insignificant.  From the outside I am overweight, with unruly hair and an uneducated mother of two.  Sometimes I let how the world sees me define how I see myself.  Sometimes it's hard to remember who I am amongst the piles of laundry, dirty diapers, and homework to be done with my kindergartener.

Ava drew me a picture for my birthday.  I glanced at it but to be honest it was one of a dozen she drew throughout the day and I must have set it aside without really taking it in.  Today while I was cleaning I came across it.  It has a stick figure with long curly hair and outstretched twig arms.  She wrote above it.  This is my mom.  She likes to dance.  And beneath it she wrote, Mom is dancing.  

I don't know what it was about seeing this picture, but I thought to myself, I am a mother and being a mother can consume your entire identity which is a fine line to walk, but if Ava can see the joy I still get from dancing in the kitchen then there are parts of my former self that have remained.

In my twenties I think I lost myself to the expectations that came along with what a mother and a wife should be.  Not that some of those expectations aren't necessary or normal, but I forgot the joy that can be had from doing something you love to do.  And for doing it for no other reason than you want to.

Ava's Bowling Birthday

For about the last six months Ava has been asking to go to Disneyland for her birthday.  At least she knows how to dream big, right?  Well, Mama and Daddy aren't rich so we ask what her second choice was.  Boondocks.  Too far to drive with a bunch of little girls so we settled for Fat Cats...a bowling alley and arcade.  We ate pizza and breadsticks and had birthday cake.  I think we had fun, although I had my hands full with Brielle. 

Ava got a Lalaloopsy Doll, a ballerina jewelry box, a crayola coloring book and markers, and some princess makeup.  Ava loved it all, of course. 

I'm very grateful for Ava.  She is always writing me love notes and drawing me pictures of myself with captions like...this is my mom I love her.  We have similar senses of humor and we enjoy laughing together.  When she tells me that she wants to be just like me when she grows up I cringe inside because I am so flawed, but I'm in awe that someone thinks I'm so wonderful and loves me so unconditionally.  That's a six year-old for you, I'm sure at sixteen she will think differently.  She's a deep thinker and just the other day asked me if when we die are we reborn in a new body.  We had a good discussion about religious philosophy then.  She was very insistent when she said, "But mom how do we know for sure?!" (about what happens after we die) and I said, "Well, to be honest nobody knows for sure what happens after we die.  Unless you're dead.  Then you'll know for sure."  For whatever reason that struck her as funny and she giggled.  She's so unique and uncommonly kind when it comes to interaction with others.  I feel very blessed to be her mother.  I love you, Ava.

You Know You're a Mormon when...

...you're driving on a street you never have before after picking up warm doughnuts from Banbury Doughnuts on 7th East in SLC (delicious and diet savaging) for your daughter's sixth birthday breakfast of choice and you see this...

...then you slam on your brakes, flip a U-turn and park in front of the house gazing with mouth agape.  Then remembering you have your camera in your diaper bag you dig it out and hop out of the car and stand in front of someone's house taking a picture of church history. 

So you know I took this picture first.  This is important information because as I snapped away the woman of the household threw open the living room drapes to see some crazy Mormon behaving like an ill-mannered tourist.  In the above picture, the above, above picture I should say you can see the drapes are open.  At this point my face flushed red, my palms got sweaty and I quickly closed the shutter on my camera, gave a perfunctory embarrassed wave and hopped back in my car and sped off like a bandit.  A Mormon bandit.