Last night Scotland and I arrived home from a 10 day visit to see my sisters in Utah. We had a wonderful time, and accomplished some of what we set out to do. There is always more but, as I am slowly learning, having a child severely restricts how much one is able to accomplish in a day. I don’t want to recap my trip, but rather jot down a few feelings, experiences, and thoughts I had while there.
We flew out on Thursday. I was nervous about flying alone with Scotland, as he is at the “let me get down and crawl phase.” I prayed the several days before that I would be blessed to sit by people who would be helpful and kind. My prayers were answered. On the first leg, no one sat in the middle seat, and the woman who sat in the window seat was friendly and warm. She welcomed Scotland’s attention and even held him, offering her bracelet for him to play with. We talked about her grandkids, and she smiled and played with Scotland. On the next flight, four hours to SLC. I sat by the sweetest grandma- you’re stereotypical kind. She adored Scotland, even kissing him several times while holding him. She literally watched and played with him the entire four hours. She helped me keep him entertained and thrilled at his loud vocalizations and percussive bangings. I approached the day with the attitude that I would look for and accept help if offered. As a result I had a beautiful experience with two women who could have easily been my Mom and Grandmother. We laughed and chatted and rejoiced in infancy. What a blessing a child is, their openness to everyone has helped me reach out more, and accept the stranger as a friend.
On the flight back I had a similar experience. Maggie sat next to us and we chatted the whole way. Several men in business suits stopped to stick out their tongues and make faces at Scotland as they walked to their seats, and several women played peek-a-boo with Scotland when he climbed up to look over my seat. My mind was continually turned to Matthew 18: 2-4: “Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as a little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven. Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” Scotland doesn’t care what a person’s age, race, socio-economic class. He simply loves. He smiles at everyone. As a result I’ve had the opportunity of talking with a much greater range of people. I find myself chatting with the people around me at the grocery store, jumping into conversations with strangers at the library, and laughing as men in suits make funny faces at my son- beaming when they get a smile. I’ve seen a new side of myself and mankind, and I love it.
Friday I sang for the General Director of Utah Festival Opera and Musical Theater, Michael Ballam. I guess it was an audition. They are doing “My Fair Lady” this upcoming summer, and Eliza Doolittle is one of my dream roles. I knew going into the audition, however, that they had already selected someone for the role, and there weren’t any other roles adaquet for me in their 2012 season, so I decided to just go and sing in hopes that he might think of me down the road. In some ways it was foolish. I haven’t had a voice lesson in over a year, I’ve sang off and on, but haven’t practiced seriously since having Scotland in February. Vocally, I’m very out of shape. But I was going to Logan and it only made since to take advantage of the opportunity. I arranged an audition three weeks before and sang like crazy to get ready. I updated my resume, and took new headshots. All in all, it left me prepared for the next opportunity I want to jump on. My perspective on auditions have changed drastically since having a child. Once I desperately wanted a lead role. I was willing to sacrifice anything for one. Now, I’m selective. My life is so full, so rich, that if it works out, great! If not, no biggie. I approached the audition with the goal to just be myself. In the past I’ve tried to be what I thought they wanted. Acting professional, technical, uncaring. This time, I was me, I openly expressed how delighted I was to be back in the hall where I had once sang as a 13 year old girl, experiencing opera for the first time in the children’s chorus of Carmen. I vocally bubbled over the memory of working with Dotty Danner in The Desert Song at 16, being “her dancer-girl.” I chatted with Michael Ballam as an old friend, recognizing him as the mentor his is, the benefactor who blessed with with operatic experience at such a young age.  I told him “Michael, I don’t want to push myself on you, but at the same time I want to push myself on you! Take me, I will come!” I left the audition pleased, shocking considering how embarrassed I was a few days later when my critical conservatory-trained self analyzed how pathetic my performance was. But I had accomplished my goal. I had auditioned, without giving up “me.” 
After I sang three numbers for him, we chatted and then he said, “Let’s talk about this summer. . .” I jumped in and informed him that I wasn’t sure there was anything I wanted this summer. I told him, what I really wanted was to sing Eliza, but considering that role had already been taken, I wasn’t willing to leave my husband and abandon my child to the care of others for three months for any other part. I was surprised at my own confidence, pleased to realize that I know what I want. A part of me (my ego) wishes I would have remained quite so I could have heard his offer. Then I could have returned home and said: “Well I was offered a part in their young artists program, but I turned them down. . .” But that wouldn’t have been me, so I’m grateful I didn’t! Who knows if anything else will come of the audition. I’ve received enough already. I have some beautiful new headshots, I’ve experience the thrill and joy of auditioning without pretense, and I’ve learned that I am willing to make sacrifices as a mother, but only when it’s what I really want. 

My oldest sister Sabina recently moved to North Logan. Her new home is settle up in the mountains in a gorgeous neighborhood with sprawling fields and enormous houses. Far enough away from the city, the stars are bright and brilliant in the dark night, and without a nightlight I literally couldn’t see anything when I awoke  to feed Scotland. Her husband and she made the move, following a dream of having a larger yard, and living a more family centered life. Now her husband can come home for lunch, and they live on a little over an acre. It came with it’s share of sacrifices, they’ll be living on much less than they’re used to for the next few years as Craig builds his client base, and they’ve left friends and beloved teachers and teams. Their move has helped me reflect on what my dreams are. What sort of life do Tom and I want. What sacrifices are we willing to make to get it. What are we doing now, to make that dream a reality? 
When Sabina and I get together, we’re a bit dangerous, or so the joke goes. But in order to keep up appearances my housewarming gift to Sabina was a pint of paint for her pantry door. What color? Bright orange! It was a bit shocking at first- but after a bit of distressing/antiquing we mellowed it and now I love it. (I hope she does!) If anything it was enough to energize the space and spark ideas for ways to bring more life to her kitchen/dining/living room. 
The second half of the week was spent in Woodland Hills with Brigette. While I had high hopes of packing up a bunch of her house, three babies under 7 months and two days of General Conference severely limited our efforts. The result: two wonderfully inspiring days of conference, lots of time for Brielle and Scotland to bond, and plenty of opportunities to hold and coo with Keiton. I was again impressed, even awed, by Brigette’s uncanny ability to take care of her “twins.” By the end of our time together I had sort of figured out how to pick up two babies, but not at all with the agility and speed that she could! The highlight was watching Scotter and Brielle race around the house on hands and knees- two peas in a pod. My favorite was watching as Scotland chased after Brielle breathing rapidly (as if making himself faster) as she squealed and belly laughed and crawled away only to turn around, daring her to chase her again!  
Being the aunt and sister who could sweep in and visit for a week, helping with projects and playing with children has always been one of my favorite roles. Now, as a mother, it is much more fatiguing. Scotland didn’t sleep well the entire trip- waking every few hours at night, and not taking very good naps. By the end, sick and exhausted, he was up every hour and hardly napped at all. I’ve never returned from a trip so relieved to be home. Not because I didn’t absolutely love the time I’d spent, but because I was too tired to enjoy much more. We all slept 10 hours last night. (Scotland only waking once to eat.) He took a two, then three hour nap today, and I joined him for two of those hours. I probably could have slept all day. We’ll call it a tender mercy that Tom had today off. We enjoyed a leisurely morning, and had lunch together, later enjoying an afternoon nap. (Apparently he doesn’t sleep well when we’re apart either!) It was a dreamlike entry back into my life. I felt so blessed returning to my loving husband, my beautiful clean house, a week full of lessons to teach and visits to make, friends to run with and colorful leaves to enjoy. How wise the phrase, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”