Airport, Church, Mold

Saturday we enjoyed our last day with Allison; Sunday morning I had to take her to the airport. I was sad to see her go.

Sunday was our usual exhausting day. Sacrament Meeting was just hilarious. Ben was chatting away, a running commentary. “Daddy, I have a boo-boo. The water helps me think about Jesus’ blood. Look, there’s Sister Holly. I’m so BORING. When is it nursery time? I don’t want to color.” Logan decided to chime in. Babble, babble, raspberry, raspberry, gurgle, gurgle, shriek. Repeat. Eventually, the four of us ended up on the couch in the foyer. There was an older couple in the pew in front of us. He passed her a note and I happened to see what it said. I don’t know if it was intended for us to see, but I didn’t take offense. It was true. The note said, “Perhaps we should consider sitting on the other side of the chapel next week. Lots of little voices in my ear.” I don’t feel bad, because after church someone came up to me and told me how impressed they were at Megan and Gavin’s behavior after Christopher and I took the little boys out. “I kept glancing over to make sure they were okay without you, and they didn’t make a peep.” So, there. Yes, our babies are exceptionally loud, but they learn how to be quiet. Eventually.

Monday all three kids happily went back to school. It is nice to be back to the grind. The weather has been dry enough for Gavin to jump on the trampoline every day after school, and Megan has been going over to a friend’s house to work on a science project. It’s nice I don’t have to worry about them, because Logan is a pill in the afternoons. He is strictly a two-nap kid, and if his second nap is done by three, he might fuss until seven or eight. I wish he would take a third nap, but he won’t have it. He doesn’t want to miss the excitement of his siblings being home, I guess, but at the same time, he’s exhausted. He turned six months old on the 17th with us barely noticing. Poor kid. I’ll have to do a long post all about him soon. He’s getting so big and fun. He loves food and Christopher thinks he’ll be an early weaner, especially because he is so distracted when he nurses. I had Allison take a few pictures of me nursing, because I love it so much and wanted that moment captured, but Logan was more interested in the camera once he realized he was being photographed.

On Sunday I made a sad discovery. I was rooting around in one of my special boxes for the first time in years and found that the box had been attacked by mold. It was from that dumb apartment complex in Atlanta, and I just caught it. Luckily my photos were fine. My wedding album, for instance, was in another box that was moldy, but the album itself was fine. One of my journals is moldy, and I’ll need to start scanning the pages; in fact, I should scan all my journals. I have kept journals sporadically since I was six years old, and they are really fabulous. I should probably burn them instead of scan them, but I think my comedies and tragedies should be preserved for future generations.

I was exceptionally disappointed my Brown University Book Award was destroyed. This was one of my most prized possessions, given to me in high school by a Brown University alum. The inscription inside the book reads:

“Brown University

honors the junior who best combines
academic excellence with the clarity in written and
spoken expression:

LAUREN SUZANNE CARROLL

Language is the highest expression of our
humanity; it defines what we are and
what we aspire to be.
Those who use words effectively will be
the leaders in their generation.
In them we invest our hope; to them
we accord our respect.
With this award, we salute their potential.”

This book was proof that, at one point, I was smart. Because I chose to be a full-time mom at a very young age, forgoing advanced education or a career (for now), I feel like I lost that identity. Full-time moms exhibit their talents in the way their kids look, or how their homes are decorated. They excel at cooking, volunteering, photography. I’m pretty good at some of that stuff, but I wasn’t born to be good, I was born to excel. I still haven’t found my passion, my niche, and these days I can’t walk around brandishing my SAT scores to prove my mettle. That worked well for the first twenty years of my life, and ten years later I’m still growing into my new identity.

Speaking of new identities, I included a picture of my new haircut. Enjoy!

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6 thoughts on “Airport, Church, Mold

  1. Love the new haircut! And I love the nursing photos! What a great moment to capture.And go ahead … fill me in on your SAT scores, I want to hear how smart you are 🙂 !! (Sometimes I feel the same way, like I lost part of my identity now that I stay at home with kids. But we can share our former selves with each other … though they aren't really former, just buried a layer down for now, but I am certain they will emerge yet again.)

  2. I DREAD church…. every Sunday. In fact, I start stressing about it on Saturday. I feel like wearing a sign that says "our Dad's the Bishop, so no, our kids aren't perfect, and there's 4 of them, so YES, we will be loud and irrevrant. If you don't like it, then help!"

  3. I have always thought you were a "real" mom! Those are hard to come by these days! You tell it how it is, do your best, and dont waste time on the unimportant stuff. Plus, only smart moms can teach their kids to play chess, right?Love the curls!

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