Ketchup.

So yes, I'm back. At least for today. It's been about five weeks since I blogged last and my mind is about to explode with random thoughts for the unknown public to read. Here are a few for your perusal:

• I swear estrogen is dripping off the walls of this house. Buttercup cries at the drop of a hat as if she's menstruating, and both little princesses insist on changing their outfits (along with shoes, scarves, purses, jewelery, and other accessories) at least five times a day.
• Why do the good people of North Dakota continually drive five miles under the speed limit? I never would have called myself a Utah driver--but when a lady in a Taurus with two babies in the back goes whizzing by all the traffic on the freeway, there is no other explanation.
• I LOVE my husband. Bless his soul if I could do it all over again, I wouldn't change a thing. Not only does the man still give me flutters when he walks through the door everyday, he loves me and takes care of me like I'm THE queen. I'm so thrilled with this whole physical therapist thing because shoot, Charming is smokin' in a pair of dockers and a button-up collared shirt (with the sleeves rolled up all temptingly like he's really just a rustic mountain man underneath). Oh, and he made me a fabulous chocolate cake (his own recipe mind you) for mother's day. This man knows what love is.
• "Little House on the Prairie" (the tv series), has turned into a very unsatisfying soap opera for me as of late. I was bestowed with all 9 seasons for Christmas, and now what can I say? Will Laura and Almanzo ever stop bickering and just get to the romancing already? I mean I understand it's a family show and all, but good golly, if they can address issues like rape, murder, and death, I think we could deal with a little sweet-talking and a soulful kiss or two. (Yes, I know, I'm a loser. Moving on.)
• I have committed a domestic sin and bought (for a few weeks in a row now) ready-made meals for my family. It was yummy.
• I have gone from obsessing about household cleanliness--such as sweeping the floors three times a day and scrubbing toilets for fun--to beginning to comb through summer clothes put in storage for my girls, and dropping the whole project winding up with sundresses strewn all over the house by my precious little angels. Odd. Maybe I'm bipolar. I won't look into that though--I'll probably just end up taking another non-helpful expensive test/procedure.
• Better Homes and Gardens magazine is my new bible. I've actually begun tearing out pages of my favorite things and consequently had to make a "Home Decor" file in my cabinet.
• I actually spent more than half of my birthday money on "home decor". Crazy sauce. And does my house look any cuter? Not for me to judge...
• Buttercup has officially banned the word "cute". Apparently anything "cute" is a little girl thing and she is now in the "big girl" category. Why was I never informed that adolescence began at four years old? They should have trained us for this in all those prenatal classes I had to attend (you know, in between the "How to latch on" and "Go to your happy place when it hurts like the devil" chats).
• No really, I was serious. Please stop hitting on Livvy. (Plus is makes Jayni feel bad.)
• I went running the other day. I should have had a photo shoot for a special scrapbook page because I don't think that's ever going to happen again.
• Last night Charming helped me concoct an avocado hair mask (thank you BHG magazine!) at 10:30 at night. He then applied it to my entire head and actually seemed to be enjoying himself. I just wanted some chips for dipping with.
• I AM going to color my hair. If I keep chanting this maybe it will happen. Don't worry, I will still be a former blonde.
• It's been weeks since I've read an entire book. Something must be wrong. Or maybe I just need to get through Little House.
• How do you respond when your two-year-old is continually yelling at everyone around her "Don't SAY that!" I just end up saying "Don't SAY that!" right back at her and then we're going in circles. I hate being outwitted by a small child.
• Did I mention that Charming is growing his hair out just for me? This is how I know the guy loves me--it's a weird Edward fetish. Don't mock me, just feel privileged that I let you in on the strange inner workings of my mind.
• Today I was wishing I had learned to play the violin. Odd. I can't even play the piano competently.
• I am really looking forward to my Jane Austen tour of England when I'm.... well when I'm older and have money. Apparently that is important when you want to sleep in a castle in the British countryside.

Hopefully you'll be hearing from me again soon. That is all.

Cinderella

I woke up today and immediately went "Ughhh". I saw the entire day ahead of me and wasn't looking forward to the routine. Still, I don't have the option of rolling over and going back to bed. Children were calling "Mama!", and Charming was getting ready to go out the door to school. Responsibility and adulthood call--and of course I answer like any good mother should. After I finished my morning workout (like I said, "Ugh"), complete with fussy children and a team of cheerleaders bouncing around an aerobic step on the television, I decided I needed a mood change while I continued on my domestic journey.

In keeping with my new resolution to be more musical, I put on a CD while I fed the girlies some breakfast. What could be more cheerful and carefree as The Slipper and the Rose soundtrack? The silly songs and romantic melodies took me back into my childhood, remembering my awe of the French Revolution period costumes, the white wigs, the delicate young girl turned into a servant who somehow still looked a bit "come hither" in her peasant garb, and a tall prince whose eyes were spaced too far apart to look completely human. With a mouth full of cheerios, Buttercup began pelting me with questions. "Who is this singing?" "What is she singing about?" "Why does she miss the prince?" "Does the prince love Cinderella?" "Will they get married?" etc. etc. Although Buttercup is familiar with Disney's version of Cinderella, she was aware that this was a different version and was anticipating plot twists. During Cinderella's woeful ballad, Once I Was Loved, Buttercup declared that this was her favorite song! and while listening to the Prince and his sidekick sing What a Comforting Thing to Know, she stated that this was Daddy's favorite song. Huh.

Anywho, I got thinking of all the different versions of Cinderella there are, how the story is so timeless that it is done again and again. And still, some of the stories keep us on our toes just as much as Buttercup was this morning, wondering when and if the Prince and Cinderella will have a happy, romantic ending. For me, Disney's Cinderella is the fairy tale Bible. It is the original version to go back to for story facts, truths, and basics. For most children, this movie is their introduction to the Cinderella story.

A few years after my initial Cinderella cinematic experience, I viewed The Slipper and the Rose. Much joy followed as I learned all the songs and mimicked the dancing and voice influxions. Jayni, my cousin Liz, and I would rewind all the love songs and sing them together over and over. What makes this particular version unique is Cinderella's self-sacrifice for the Kingdom (because apparently if she marries the Prince, their nation will go to war and cease to exist), by having the Prince's steward relay to the Prince that Cinderella left him because she was heartless and wicked. Ah, the drama! Nevertheless, Prince Charming finds Cinderella wherever she has been hidden and they unite eternally in wedded bliss.

A friend introduced me to the Roger and Hammerstein version in my pre-teens. After The Slipper and the Rose I wasn't impressed. Sure, it was all a bit witty, but there was no real depth of emotion or plot involved. It does deserve a nod since Julie Andrews starred in the original, but after casting Brandy of all people in the strangely politically correct modern version, I don't waste my time with it.

Ever After came out my sophomore year of high school, and I remember it well. It is always shocking to me to think of how much I loathe Drew Barrymore, and yet I love several of her movies! In Ever After I was able to look past Drew's terrible accent and acting abilities and focus on more important things--like Dougray Scott. I watched this movie over and over, soaking in the period costuming, and the more interesting plot. The prince actually has a name--Henry--as well as a personality in this film. He became less an objective goal (such as wealth, station, riches, and the all-encompassing love), and more of a human with goals and a journey of his own throughout the story. This was not a man with salamander-like eyes; he was a man a girl could fall in love with. And I did.

I'm not sure which of the two came out next--Ella Enchanted or A Cinderella Story--but despite the obvious title of the latter, I favor the creativity of the former as being more "cinderella-ish". Ella Enchanted is placed in a magic medieval time period, bumped up with modern mannerisms. Anne Hatheway does a fantastic job of portraying the pitiable but likable Ella, who is bound by a curse to always be obedient. Ella is quite a liberal for her setting, and shapes the plot as she attempts to convince Prince Char that he can change the kingdom for the better. For me this movie is a must-have, fun to watch and giggle about with sisters and girlfriends. In contrast, I found A Cinderella Story to be cliche and predictable--only different by adding highschool and technology. There were a few good laughs over the over-glamourized stepmother and dense stepsisters, but the acting was borderline cheesy, and let's face it, Hillary Duff learned the bulk of her acting skills on the Disney Channel--never a good recommendation.

Did I cover them all? I hope so; I hope there aren't any more in the making out there for awhile. We need a break from Cinderella, and it might be fun to delve into some new stories. My advice for those endevoring to recreate a fairy tale? Awesome costumes, mix the story up a bit (more character depth etc.), and hott men. Good luck.

The Music We Made

I am not particularly amazing at anything. This idea is not self-depracating however--just a truth I have come to grips with. Sure, there are plenty of things that I do alright, and many more things that I enjoy. I am not an avid scrapbooker, decorator, dancer, etc. I do enjoy these activities on some level. I love to cook, read, study history, and play with my children--but I don't consider myself an expert in any of these areas:) I am okay with this; I believe it makes me a well-rounded individual who doesn't take herself too seriously.

There was a time when if I was asked to tell about myself, the first thing I would have thought of was that I was a singer. That was the one thing I was always confident about as a teenager--I could sing the socks off anybody I met. Not that it was a competition, but I knew I had talent and it gave me a reason, a purpose, a sense of belonging and identity. As the years have gone by I have stopped singing for reasons unknown. A few years back I realized that I had stopped singing in the shower and I never put on music when I was puttering around the house. I suppose that leaving my childhood home where loud music and singing were accepted and even encouraged had changed the way I went about my routine--hence the rest of my life.

Lately I have felt the void the absence of music has left, and I find myself struggling to bring it back. Something has happened that I would previously have never thought possible--my voice got rusty. I can't sing like I used to. The high notes I used to soar on and the belting that came as easily as breathing are gone. I find myself pushing with my throat and to my dismay my pitch is suffering. I want it all back, but it feels like opportunity is gone and wasted.

I don't want my voice back for my own vanity. Of course it has always been lovely to be complimented and held in awe, but there's so much more to singing than the pedestal. Singing was my outlet, how I expressed my emotions and shared myself. Music is also the way I learn best about the world. Subjects are raw and felt more deeply went put to music. I have always felt stronger when I have sung my thoughts and feelings. The reality of this reaches deep. I believe I gained my testimony of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ, and the assured knowledge of who I am, through music I have sung. Not being free to express myself musically has taken part of that conviction from me. Not that my testimony has been lessened--but I know my conviction is always stronger when the music touches my heart.

So that's where I am. What to do? How to correct this part of me that I have inadvertently let go? I am lucky enough to have a keyboard on loan for an unspecified amount of time (thanks Sofia), and dozens of illegal copies of beautiful music (thanks Jayni). No, I do not play the piano well (sorry Mom, you were right). But as I have contemplated the tragedy of my quitting the piano in the seventh grade and thinking it was too late, I have realized that I am not yet twenty-five, and although I am a wife and mother, I am still young and can learn new things. So I have committed to spend some time every day on the piano practicing and singing the songs that thrill me. I don't care if anybody else ever hears me (and at the present that might be for the best). I am going to push forward and reclaim my identity and love for music by expressing myself through song.