Father-Friend

I have a new friend. His name is Dad.

It's been interesting to note how our relationship has changed over the years, and with fathers day fast approaching, it's something I've been thinking about even more.

age 0 - 8

Dad was my idol. I remember (or have seen many pictures and created memories around them) waking up at 4 am, driving into Holladay to pick up grandpa and the grandmother packed lunches and then hauling everything up to strawberry. Dad only caught HUGE fish, and I idolized how smart he seemed to be. He knew that answer to everything, and I often questioned him about all things biology, and he answered, even when my grandpa insisted that I stop making so much noise "the fish have ears!" dad = smart grandpa= too smart.

I also remember Star Trek, Jazz games, Trail Side and Nova. Though I see him reading and playing the guitar in all his free time now, there once was a time when Dad watched TV, and these were the DAD shows. I watched with him, and asked endless questions there too about time travel, and the greatest basketball plays. He made me feel as smart as he was, and always encouraged me to learn as much as I could.

age 8 -15

Dad was still smart, and fun to talk to, but later on we got into arguments, most of which were actually carried out in my head, because I just KNEW what he would say. Looking back he was just protective of a first daughter, and tried to do what a righteous father should, but it did get old being told to come home at 5, for dinner, and that I should just play with my brothers for the rest of the night, not my friends. And I remember that ONE time (for it surely only happened once) that I told my parents there would only be girls at the party, when in actuality there were plenty of boys. (I was 15 by the way, not 8) My dad ended up picking me up when I'd been out too long and hadn't phoned home. He didn't say anything about the boys, he didn't say anything at all. And I knew what he was thinking, and I knew I'd never lie again, because my Dad was one of those dad's who just expected the best and you knew it.

I remember all the soccer games, and even a couple basketball :) He came and would give me the full breakdown of the game afterwards as only a coach could. He wanted me to be the best, and he told me how it could happen, and encouraged me to work as hard as he did. I didn't wind up with an athletic scholarship to BYU like he did, but now with dance paying my way, I'd like to think it's making him proud to finally see my hard work pay off.


age 16 - 19

DAD was my dad, and Bishop, and the biology teacher at school. I couldn't escape. And I loved it. My Dad was one of the cool teachers at school, and though many of the boys were intimidated at best, they asked me out anyway, so it all worked out. I'll never forget the time Jeff got me home 10 minutes late and had to run laps the next morning at practice. Ha Ha!! My Dad treated me like gold, and expected everyone else to do the same. :)

I always admired the way my Dad would compartmentalize all of his responsibilities. He didn't like to lose, but he didn't bring the disappointment home. I knew being a bishop had its rough nights, and he was gone a lot, at least that's what I'm told...but I think the time he was at home was always so quality, that I never got a chance to miss him. He was DAD whenever you needed him to be. Tossing a ball in the backyard, taking a walk on the boulevard late on a Sunday. Sure there were times I totally resented early curfews and the general overprotective attitude, but I knew it was just because He loved me and was trying to do his best at the whole father thing.

I remember one picture so clearly. Him a proud and smiling father, me, smiling in a gown having just finished Jr. Miss UTAH. I remember thinking I had the best dad in the world, one who encouraged me in all the sports, but who also sat through all the girly ballet recitals and who now endure long pageant competitions. I remember him rolling his eyes and helping me to keep a level head through all of it, I loved him for that.


age 19 - 22

Something totally changed the day I moved to college. My Dad will always be my dad, but suddenly he was more my friend. He'd only solicit advice when I'd ask for it, and often he ask me for advice as well. I remember calling him, telling him my issues with boys, and he'd always have level headed advice, and would often side with the guys!! but only when he knew I was just being a girl and things needed time. He knew how to see issues clearly, and was always kind in trying to help me see things clearly too.

I've appreciated that attitude so much. It was scary at first. My parents let go of the reigns and basically told me I was on my own, both monetarily and in all of my decisions. They were always there to support, and I could ask for advice, but they were not about the tell me what to do anymore. Becoming financially independent so early on was the best gift my parents ever gave to me. I had to struggle and figure it out, but I made it. And I'll never forget the phone call with my dad, he said he was so proud of how I'd made it paying my way through college, no compliment has ever meant so much.

I love how my dad has treated Robby. Taking him fly fishing in Oregon, picking up the guitar and asking for lessons, and teasing him like one of his own. I loved too that not so long ago my dad asked Robby for a priesthood blessing. There relationship is steadily growing and it means so much to me.


TODAY

Just a few nights ago I was home, and my dad was excited to have me read a chapter in the latest Scousen book he was re-reading. All about the moons and earths origins and the religious ties in such a subject, my dad was anxious to ask my opinion and share with me all he'd been learning. I realized in that moment where I'd gotten my love for learning, a love Robby comments on frequently, it's my Dad. And in that moment he paid me a huge compliment as my dad asked me my opinions on the matter, and as our conversation turned more religious he shared his thoughts, and asked for mine. My Dad is smart, and he makes me feel just as intelligent as we have those kind of conversations that aren't so Parent to Child, but are very much Father to Daughter. I felt respected, but gained so much more respect for a father I love so dearly.


Happy fathers day Dad. I hope you know I think you're the greatest.

the other

it's recently come to my attention that some read this blog, but not the other, so as way of late introduction...

erinandrobby.blogspot.com

why do I have 2? who knows. supposidly the other is for events, this one is more what on my mind... Pretty soon I'll probably just choose one, but until then, happy reading :)

babies

no, we're not thinking about it, but i did want to shout out to everyone else that is.

Congrats to:

Bethany and Thomas
Jesse and Stephanie
Lyndsay and Russel
Justin and Sarah
and now
Janneke and Danny

wahoo, so many folkdance babies. Congrats again all you cute mother's and father's to be. I'm excited for you!

One

woke up at 6 am, still jet lagged, but I decided I love China Jet Lag. I'm exhausted at 10, and I wake up on my own at 5 or 6. It starts my day beautifully.

It's Sunday here in Beijing. We were planning on meeting in an ex patriot branch today, but the BYU business group is here too, and the numbers of our combined groups would have overwhelmed the branch, so we had sacrament meeting in the hallway of our hotel. It was a little scary since we could be in big trouble having a religous meeting that wasn't contained in a room... but there were doors to the hallway that we closed, so technically... :)

I love changing things up. Sacrament can become so repetative week after week, that I often miss the spirit of the sacred ordinance. Having the sacrament among close friends, in a hotel hallway, in China, definitely changed the repetition, and I focused.

Today I thought a lot about the actual prayer that is said, and I was caught up in a detail contained in the first few lines... " to the souls of ALL....." Obviously there are conditions for the blessings from our heavenly father, but those conditions lie upon us individually. We ALL are promised the opportunity, whether in this life or the next, to hear and be taught the gospel of Jesus Christ. We ALL can have the blessing of baptism, to have the spirit of Christ with us, to take His name upon us and become His.

This became important as I thought of the many people in China who do not yet have the full blessings of the gospel, or even the opportunity to hear and choose to accept or reject this message.

I believe in a true and just God, one who loves all of his children, and with that knowledge, I know that one day the people of China will be taught and given the choice. They too will have the opportunity of accepting the gospel.

Mike Hinkley poinently described the love that a particular chineese couple must have for their one son. The government will only pay for the education of one child per couple in china, thus many couples choose to only have one child. As Mike talked (or tried to talk) to a couple after one of our shows, they kept showing Mike their son, and it struck him how proud they are of this ONE and only son, how they would do anything and everything for him.

I thought about that love of the one, and remembered a talk from a few months ago.

I remember a time I my life when I wasn't sure if I mattered, if I was a One that HE somehow wasn't aware of, or that maybe I didn't deserve Him to really know me.

Many of us probably have times like this... but I know that He is aware of us, and proud of us, and loves us, even more than that chinese couple loves their son.

I don't fully understand that kind of love, but I believe in it... and I'm grateful that I'm reminded of it here in beautiful China.

and along with spring comes....

These pants fit too tight, and I want a new swimsuit.  I herby sentence myself to a state of limited sugar intake.  grapefruit and carrots, grapefruit and carrots. I can do this...

I'm heading to china, and my EBAY account proves it

I'm so excited!!! Classes are over in 7 days, which means READING DAYS. Contrary to popular belief, reading days are for studying. I believe in popular belief, and reading days are for doing what ever you wish you had done all semester long, and couldn't do at the expense of classes and craziness.

I should probably make fruit pizza....

we love buy low. consequently, here's the list of fruit in our tiny 9 foot square apartment right now....

-apples
-orange
-bananas
-pears
-grapes (green)
-kiwi
-a lemon
-strawberries
-grapefruit
and a mango.

we are spoiled.... lets hope they don't.

at least there are birds

I came out of the JSB today, zipping up my winter parka in preparation for the weather this beloved April fools day. Yep, snow, on April 1st. all hail Utah.

I glanced up to find the source of spring sound and found birds, twittering in leafless, artistic branches, silhouetted against a gray and foreboding sky. It reminded me of another run in with birds 2 days ago.

Mando player and I got home late from a show in Monticello Utah, Saturday night, actually sunday morning if you want to be technical. 4 am to 8 am, those were our beloved hours for sleep. 9 am church came with a reminder of the responsibility of educating the sunbeams about the birds and the bees. Ha ha, ya that really was the lesson, "I am grateful for the birds and the insects"

So we planned a field trip. After talking about different insects, and exploring how one might draw them with chalk, we stepped outside to see a real live BIRD. You'd think they'd never seen wings in real life before. Well our hopes were dashed as we looked outside to the blustery, bird-less sky. Oh well, made believe anyone. We went outside anyway, and the fearless sunbeam teachers shared their HUGE jackets that covered 2 1/2 sunbeams each. Mando player made bird sounds, and we pretended that we could see a "bird" up in the tree. Just then our state bird made it's grand entrance into the lesson, right on cue, and swooped in to great the gazing eyes of its eager 4 year old audience. Really these kids need to get out more, they were gleefully excited to see such a 'beautiful bird'.

Huzzah, I'm grateful for birds, and the promise of spring. A promise they'd better keep or I'm going to China. (maybe I'll just go regardless.)

forshadow

Mando player spend his sunday afternoons at the hospital, he's been racking up the service hours for a few years now, and recently I've started to tag along.

Today I had a glimpse into the future. Mando and I have had a lot of discussions about family life, and how we want to create ours in the midst of medical school and a residency. It's the number one question he grills the doctors he shadows with, and the different responses are surprising and sometimes discourageing.

Just now a darling woman with a girl on her hip, and two skipping beside her, came in to meet doctor dad. He was in scrubs and on the phone with a nurse while the two skippers played in the large revolving doors at the enterance, their spring time dresses reflected an easy breezy carefree life 4 and 6 years olds lead. Mom had a different look, tired, pregnant, but happy still.

Dad got off the phone and appologized to his wife for taking the call, then he cheerfully asked the girls how church was, to which he got a short and sweet repremand, "it was great Dad, but you weren't there huh?!"

I wonder how we're going to do it sometimes. Mando wants to be the doctor dad who makes it home for dinner, and still has time to play in the backyard... and if that means less hours in the hospital, resulting in less money, that's fine. But the truth is, you don't pick your hours during residency, you're a slave, and the hours are harsh.

I was talking with the irish one on the team, and she mentioned that she basically didn't have a dad growing up. That was comforting. hmmm.

I start to wonder where I'm going to fit in this equation, how moms do anything really, the closer I get the more amazed I am by the moms all around me, and the more aprehensive I become in trying to fill the shoes that surely await.

repetition

Mando player and I have a new study/time managment program thanks to that famous eiline girl. Basically I use it for scripture, and mando uses the system for scriptures, mcat prep, and for practicing.

I've heard the same mandolin run 36 times now, come on get over the phrase, move on, this time? nope, this time... my ears sit with a vague sense of tension, hoping for the melody to move on.. oh there, he finally did it, tension released, until 12 seconds later he runs into a new tricky run in the same solo set, and he's repeating, again, and again.

It's like a record that keeps hitting funny bumps, and plays it over and over, until it's satisfied, or can skip over the little hic-up.

I picked Jeanettes brain recently. WE talked all about her children, and her role in their musical lives. oh man, I know it's coming, sooner than I think, little miniature fiddles and guitars, and the squeaky strings and wrong rythms, ooohhhhh.

Suddenly I can deal with the repetition, at least Mando player is good, like really good :)




The "band" was over the other night... part of their meeting was to discuss band names for their entry into the upcoming fiddle fest, pickle freak, penny brook (both nickle creek knock offs) fell to the final winner, engines of commotion.

I felt like lucy, with my famous ricki recardo husband... I wanted so badly to semak in a add my rhythms on a tambourine, or harmonica. Instead I was content to study in the bedroom, and listen the creative genius flowing from the log cabing room. They can come over any day, I love it.

IN-decision

I wish there was a think pink medicine for the heart wrenching feeling that seems to exude through my body every time the acronym is mentioned.

P.A.C.

I could stay. I could suffer through the thin time that will be mine as it's stretched over a dance team, student teaching, and all the other last minute classes I want to take (ie: children's lit, Anatomy, Aerobics teaching methods). I could dance and get paid for it, and next year that scholarship money will actually go towards tuition since there will be no major tour fees. I could be more of a leader on the team being a third year, and help train up a new flock of boys (we're getting a bazillion new ones)

OR

I could not dance. and be poor-er (maybe) and have time for classes I want to take, suffer through an identity crisis and a loss of every and all friends. I could be pushed to seek new friends, and new niches, maybe I'd finally make friends in my ward, and become a soccer player again (ya, remember that ERIN? I wasn't always a dancer) And I would promise myself NOT to be one of those dead folk dancers who seem to weasel their way back into every activity. I would quit, cold turkey, and have my memories of China to keep me company.

why not do it though, I'll never get this opportunity again, so why not? I'll have to quit when I leave BYU, so I should just do it.

But all those girls who'd rather see me leave, when I'm gone I open up another spot on the team, and more scholarships. In fact, everyone I talk to thinks I'm gone already.... and it bothers me! I never said I was leaving!!!

But maybe I just should, give other people a chance, plus I'll just have time to see what else BYU has to offer.

WORST CASE SCENARIO (S) -

Get a scholarship, decide not to do it. Ed takes money back to the pool, people are ousted monies. I'm hated
or
not dance, regret it for 10 monthes

BEST -
live with whatever I choose very happily



ohhh, ewww, ahhhh. I hate this feeling. Bring on the bismal.

Today in the cabin...

Erin: come back here, your new hair cut is hot, and I have celery breath.

Robby: hold on I'm throwing the broom out the window, our windows are so functional.

up to date

1 hour at a darwin lecture
15 credit hours of class (that's about 50 real hours)
7 hours held hostage at the covey center, in ONE DAY ALONE.
7 more hours for ed
12 hours of work
a few hours for food
not enough hours with Robby

= more hours than four days has to offer.

my country tis of thee

I've looked inward lately, wondering why it is I think the way I think.

The political fire has been breathing down my neck.   The whole world it seems is watching one man, and his attempt to lead a country out of debt and national strife.  I've watched form a far, doing my fair share of blog reading and npr listening.  I feel patriotic, though concerned with some of the decisions being made, I'm happy to see someone trying to change things.  

Patriotism has struck a little closer to home as well.

With MCAT books sprawled around our living room, and Mando player spending more and more time researching med schools, our thoughts have turned to our pocket book.  Our goal is to make it out of BYU without any debt, and with our 3rd semester tuition that comes with PAC every year, that's saying something!  We knew full well though that as soon as we start med school applications our savings would be shot, average application process cost: 7 grand.  yikes!  

Then there's med school tuition, our (well more my) number one school checks out at 68,000 a year.  A YEAR!!  ahhhhh!  

Recently it seems one very interesting alternative to loans has been knocking at our door.  

Join the Military.

Mando player's cousin, and future Military Chaplain, has been talking to us about all the benefits.  Mama S. mentioned that two of the doctors she works with went that route, and a counselor Mando player went and saw mentioned it too, all within 2 days of each other.

How do I feel?  

Well the images associated with the military are mostly the army, and my uncle in Iraq, and his family, who had a rough time, and the fact that their family never had enough money, moved yearly and fell away from the church for a long time.  I love these cousins, but their life isn't anything I would want.  That's my image, the things I associate.

Mando player on the other hand has a military grandfather who is a war hero.  Ever heard of the candy bomber?  Well everyone in germany has, and most people here. When you've made it onto wikipedia, well you've made it.  A total hero, that's my husbands image.  Plus his pilot cousin and cousin who is soon to be  a chaplain.  All very prestigious places to be in the military.

Mando player would get in to med school, serve his residency and then commit 4 years to the military, including being deployed.  That word frightens me.  But so does debt, and this way the military pays for everything.  Of course you don't get paid quite as much, but many people serve their time and then pull out to start their own practice.

There are some interesting questions to still ask, one being, "how did I grow up this fast, since when was I old enough to think about spending 68,000 dollars a year?!"

There is room to redefine the image of patriotism.  It's funny how I claim to be proud of my county, but look down on, or at least not want to be a part of those that protect its freedoms.  It's a noble thing, I realize, I just wonder if it's what I want for my family. But the more we find out, the better that option looks.  Sigh.  I wonder what will happen.

multi-media

We headed to Barnes and Noble for FHE last night, in hopes of finding a book to read together. Anna Karenina, the Woman in White, and A colection of Sherlock Holmes stories were purchased, and Anthem is on our list.

Then we headed to Block Buster, and rented an Oscar Wilde classic, The Importance of Being Ernest.

and what do you think we did for family night?