What I Loved About My Graduation

Tom and I left BYU as newlyweds in 2001 and returned to Michigan so he could finish his undergraduate work. I had 30 credits left - piece of cake, I could finish more than that in just two BYU semesters! But, finishing my degree alone, far away from campus, and as a mother with children proved to be very challenging. However, I had two things in my favor, one called desire and one called determination. While these two attributes of mine have been challenges in their own right (a little determination goes a long way), in this situation they were my greatest allies. To be honest, I am not sure if anyone besides myself really thought I would finish. I know they thought I was capable of doing it, but would I actually do it? It took me nine years (some years were, let's say, less productive than others) but I did do it and it felt incredible.

When nearing the completion of my graduation requirements I learned that both my sisters were planning on making the April deadline, so I decided to make it my goal as well. It was hard. I have a few other things that I do besides classes. Time gets away from you when other things demand attention like children, chores, house hunting, Primary, selling a house, a husband who is preparing for his doctorate defense, etc. There came a time when I realized that the only way to make the deadlines was to pay to have my exams expedited both ways and to complete a three credit course in eight days. It seemed too big and I felt defeated before it started. Then my two buddies desire and determination kicked in and we went to town. I got it done, just in time and even pulled off a B+ in the class!

After all this work and knowing that my sisters would be walking made me want to walk to. I think this graduation moment, because of all the time and sacrifice I had put in over the years, was even more meaningful to me than it would have been had I following the traditional time line for graduation. I wanted to go. I wanted to be there. I wanted to wear the cap and gown. I wanted to hear my name announced, shake the hands, and get that diploma! My wonderfully supportive husband agreed and bought me a ticket. It was the greatest graduation present he could have given me.

The phrase "giddy as a school girl" could have very appropriately been applied to me. Just the drive from SLC airport to Provo filled me with memories and excitement. I loved staying with my sisters Lindsay and Kristin and their wonderful husbands Kyle and Brendan. I loved painting our finger nails blue and white and having french toast for breakfast to celebrate. I loved going to church distribution, the Cougareat, BYU Bookstore, being on campus, drinking a Jamba Juice, and partying with family. It really was a trip that I will always remember. My dad flew out to see his three daughters graduate. I also had both sets of grandparents there. It was amazing. It was everything I had hoped and I loved every second of it. Walking next to my two sisters in the graduate processional to pomp and circumstance, walking across the podim as my name was called, and wearing the cap and gown were all very satisfying and emotional experiences.

So, after working on this goal for so long and having it achieved I wondered if I would feel a let down after I returned home. Would I be sad that it was all over? Kind of like Indigo Montoya after the man in black is finally killed - now what? When I got home I had three amazing little kids waiting for me and a handsome husband. Nah, I wasn't sad. It was both wonderful to experience and wonderful to have it done. As for what will I do now? My good buddies desire and determination will take care of that.

A Tale of Two Bags

Flying out to walk at my graduation was an unforgettable experience. Traveling by alone was monumental in and of itself. I don't think I had done that since... well... since I started college, and that was about nine years ago. The flights were good, although turbulent at times. I sat by kind people and I don't think I ever had to retrieve my luggage from an overhead bin, someone was always there to help. On the last leg of my journey to Utah, the flight was crowded. By the time I boarded I had to stow my carry on several rows behind where I was actually seated. When we landed, because I didn't have a connecting flight, I was content to wait until most of the passengers had passed on by. There was one tall, curly headed guy who was trying to get his skateboard out. He was having trouble because it seemed to have attached itself to another suitcase, my suitcase to be exact. He caught my eye as I was watching his attempts to pull out the suitcase without causing my bag to come crashing out. He gestured to the bag and I nodded. He pulled it down, passed it to me, and we were both on our merry ways. It was great to have some help because I had stuffed all my stuff into one suitcase and my over sized carry on. I am not known for packing light and although I didn't have many bags they, shall we say, made good use for every cubic inch they contained. Having someone else heft the thing down was fine by me. I wasn't really interested in generating any bruises or embarrassing situations as I imagined the bag tumbling down onto my toe and shin or, even worse, someone else's.
As I left the plane I watched this "skater boy" and was curious if he would actually use the skateboard or just carry it. To my amusement, once we were well on our way to baggage and arrivals and the people had thinned out he dropped his board to the floor and skated away. It was great.
I was able to find my sisters Lindsay and Kristin and my brother (okay, in-law - but he's a brother) Kyle without any problems. We had a great time catching up, singing to the radio, and laughing as we made our way back to Provo. Even the drive flooded me with memories of my BYU experience. I loved it all. It was fun to see Lindsay and Kyle's apartment and even funner to remember that my friends Jenny and Ryan had lived in the same complex as newlyweds when I was just a sophomore. As we began to scrounge for food, I got a phone call.
It was a number I didn't recognize. I have had enough encounters with weirdos that I tend to be on the suspicious side and I am happy to just ignore any number I don't know. However, being in Provo had already allured me into feelings of safety and I decided to be daring and answer the thing. "Hello?" I said. "Hello, my name is Allison. I think you have my suitcase and I have yours" she said. What?!? I frowned and looked at my bag - looked fine. The bag was actually Tom's - I had a much more tasteful one at home, but it was a bit bigger and sometimes had trouble fitting into the overhead bins. I hadn't wanted any trouble with checked and then lost bags on this trip so I had taken his instead. I checked the tag on the bag, it was blank. I knew that Tom's had had his information on it - probably the same information this girl had used to contact me. "Hunh, I guess you do" I replied, "Where are you?". "We are still at the airport," she answered. "Well, we just walked in the door of my sister's apartment in Provo - where are you headed?" I asked. "To Pocatello, which direction is that from Provo?". Hmm, I knew that they were not on each other's way, but directions are not my strong suit, not unless they have to be. So, I passed the phone to Lindsay. In the end, we found that she was no longer in possession of the bag because she was working with the airline to track me down. There was no choice - back to SLC we would go. As I looked at my phone this girl had called me like ten times as well as texted me and called Tom (whose phone was out of batteries and off). Too bad we hadn't gotten the message sooner, oh well. Lindsay and I hopped back into her car while Kyle went to bed, he had to be up early for work and it was already heading towards 10:30 pm - this was not going to be an early night. We had a great time talking and laughing about how crazy this was. I mean, I had never seen another bag like this in my life. I was glad that neither one of us had hopped on a connecting flight and we were able to remedy the situation relatively easily. I was also glad Tom had some id on his bag - she sure didn't have anything on hers.
And thus it began, the great graduation adventure, and it was great. There were no other hiccups the whole trip and I had a wonderfully satisfying time. I was grateful for my sister who was willing to make the trip twice and the extra time we had to chat. Because when you think about most things, you can always find some sunshine ;)

The color of "burned"

I have a wonderful daughter whom I just love to death. One of the many things I enjoy about her is her love for all things feminine. When I do my hair, she gets out her clips and toy hair dryer and does her hair. When I do my make up she pulls out her little make up kit and does her make up. Yesterday was one of those days.
I had just gotten out of the shower and was getting ready to do my hair. My daughter's hair-do had already started to fall out of place from when I did it earlier in the morning. Even when I wet her hair down before putting it in a pony tail, it will eventually give way. I hadn't even gone that far, so it was already falling. "Do you want me to fix your pony tail?" I asked her. "Yes," she said. I whipped my sopping wet hair up into a clip to get it out of the way and got out my squirt bottle.
She doesn't like it when I squirt it down (telling her it was Princess juice only worked for a short while) but she will tolerate it because she knows it really does stay in place better. So, I sprayed her down pretty good and was coming it into place when she lamented, "Now my hair looks all dark!" I laughed and told her that when hair gets wet it gets darker, but it would dry quickly and lighten up again. "Look at my hair," I said, it was still dripping wet, "What color is it". She paused for a minute analyzing my hair and said, "Black, no, burned, it is the color of burned. Like on my bagel this morning." I looked at my hair and laughed, yeah, I guess my wet hair is the color of burned. Good thing I had my hair dryer to help it dry quickly so it would lighten up again!

A rose by any other name...

Choosing a name for this blog has been a big undertaking! I know to some it seems like no big deal - pick a name and get on with it already, right? But, for me, it was a very big deal. I needed something that would represent me, my life style, and our family, yet still be catchy and cute. Debate, debate, deliberate, and stew. Finally, after some time, I bagged everything I had been considering and picked something completely new and completely perfect. So, welcome to Scattered Sunshine and enjoy a window into our world.