Rejection and Hope

Dear me. Rejection is probably the worst feeling in the whole world. In fact, the only reason I considered not applying to graduate school for a PH.D. was because I didn't want to face rejection. It is just so hard to shake. I hate it.

I've been keeping quiet about my applications because I didn't want to risk anyone in power seeing my hand. But now that I have heard from most programs, I am pretty safe.

So, I applied to five programs in December. (I thought I had applied to a 6th one, but apparently some time around Christmas, I changed my mind, didn't apply and then forgot that I didn't apply.) I applied to 2 programs at BYU and 3 programs at the University of Utah.

I think only 4 (maybe 3) of the programs narrow candidates down to a finalists pool. I made the finals for 2 programs -- Marriage and Family Therapy at BYU and Counseling Psychology at the U. Each of these departments invited me for an 8 hour interview with the other finalists. I went to the BYU interview on Feb. 1. I couldn't tell if they loved me or hated me. In the end, they hated me, and they told me that I was too loud and too intense. Dear me. I was only at about 40 percent of my personality at the interview, so they really would not have liked the real me.

The BYU rejection shook me especially when I didn't make the finalist pool in the other BYU program I applied to. Wow, they really hate me over there. I am not going to say the feeling is mutual. I might of really liked it there. But most likely .... wink, wink

I went to the interview at the U on Friday, and it felt like home. I loved the people, the energy and the interview process. I have my fingers crossed so tightly, they could break, but I won't find out until March 5.

Today I heard from the Social Work program at the U. Their committee decided that my Master's degree is not closely enough related to social work to allow me to start their PhD without a master's of social work. However, the people in this program are amazing, and they are going to bat with the master's program there to get me accepted as a late applicant, which would be amazing.

I haven't heard from the University of Utah clinical psychology program yet, and I am not expecting good news. I never saw myself as a clinical psych person, but I really love the research they are doing over there. It was worth a shot.

So, again, it is down to the counseling psych program at the U. I think I could really feel at home there, and I have already decided what to research and how to blaze through their program.

All and all, I feel very proud of what I have accomplished this year. It was only last January that I decided to make this career change. I took 3 advanced undergraduate courses in psychology, wrote a few major research papers, got great letters of recommendation from my new teachers, wrote 5 different (amazing) letters of intent, and filled out and paid for all 5 applications.

I am most proud of becoming a finalist in the counseling psych program. This was the program that originally encouraged me to go for the gold in the first place. I only started applying to other programs when I realized how competitive the program would be to get in to. But in the end, I was one of 14 people who make the cut from 88 applicants. That is something to be proud of, and it is something to motivate me if I have to do this all again next year.

So, there you have it, a lot of rejection and a little hope.

But hope is what we live for anyway, and all that rejection will make the gold shine brighter.

Catch them in the act

So, I guess one of my nieces screams whenever her mom brushes her hair. Since I was a child with a sensitive scalp, it has never occurred to me to ask a screaming child why they are screaming while mom is making their hair all cute.

Well, Tim's dad is very insightful, so we asked Hadyn one day, "Why do you get so upset? Don't you like to have pretty hair?" She said. "Yes. I like to get my hair brushes, but you are supposed to cry."

Pretty sure Quinn and McKenna both pull this on me with sleep. Today Quinn forgot that she is supposed to scream for food and say she's not tired before nap time. After church I asked her what she wanted for lunch. Her response was to get her sleeping things and head to her room. Looks like she forgot the rules.

I'll save you

I got sad news today, and I was having a hard time shaking it off. Quinn came over to cuddle with me and as I held her, I said, "I need lots of hugs. I am feeling sort of sad today."

She patted my back and said, "Don't be sad, mommy. I'll save you."

She's right on so many levels, but I think the level she was referring to was monsters. Later she banished several from our home -- very loudly.

Sisterhood

I am getting so excited about the fact that Quinn and McKenna are sisters. Now that McKenna can sit up and play with toys, every now and then, I catch the girls playing together. I love teaching Quinn how to use her nice words with McKenna, and I love that she has social practice all day long. As I have always said, McKenna literally doubled the joy in our home, and her role in this new little sisterhood is a big part of that joy. As we speak, McKenna is reaching with all her might to pull Quinn's hair, and Quinn is just moving out of the way. Early tonight, they sat together and played with their Valentines. Two is better than one. 10 will be better than 2. Why under do what you can under do, and it all starts now.

Paint

I mentioned before that Quinn is quite the painter. Here she is in the heat of the moment. I thought this painting looked like the map pf the LOST island or may be a human heart, but she said it was a happy monster surrounded by little footprints. Anyway, I love the concentration she uses when she works on a painting. it reminds me of how I get when I am really excited and passionate about a project. I hope she keep that focus as she get older. No matter what you love to do, it is a great skill to shut out the world and make things happen.

"My" deep thoughts about Princesses ... sort of

I used to have lots of deep thoughts, but -- no joke here -- the Zoloft sort of softens them. It is hard to come to deep rooted solutions when you can't feel the torment of deep rooted problems. So, anyway, I have many mixed emotions about the Princess craze in my daughters life (minus the movies, of course ... I haven't completely mellowed or anything like that.)

Well, two of my favorite thinkers/ writers happen to write for the same blog, and so I try to read it everyday. On Friday's this funny and whit-filled blog has a guest writer. Here is what today's guest write wrote about the basic problem with aiming to be a princess ... and not a Queen.

In the end it reminds me of the BYU problem where everyone around here wants their child to go to the Y. We, however, plan to talk up Ivy League schools, and if our kids end up at the Y, amen. It is a simple shoot for the stars/moon complex. What are you teaching your children to shoot for? Ivy League or just any college? Queen or just a princess?


So here is the blog post that I am taking from The Apron Stage:

Alanna Smith got her BA in English and her MA in humanities at BYU. Somewhere in the middle of her second degree, she met and married Craig, who now teaches TV productions while Alanna takes care of their two kids (ages three and two next week). They all live in Northern Virginia and wish it would stop snowing. She has a private blog, and if you’re just dying to be invited to it after reading this post, let her know.

It’s not that I actually have a problem with the Disney princesses. I was just as enamored with The Little Mermaid as anyone else my age when that movie came out; I have fond memories of trying to swim like a mermaid whenever possible (and being thrilled that one of Ariel’s sisters was named Alana!). And in all honesty, I think Beauty and the Beast’s Belle is a fabulous role model for little girls. But despite that, there is something in me that cringes when I see the way princesses have been thrust upon young girls as the ultimate life goal. It was for this reason that I smugly purchased Mulan for Kendra this Christmas, rather than any of the other more princess-y movies that Disney has to offer. Mulan takes charge of her life, becomes a warrior, and saves China. This is the kind of role model I can get behind.

Most of my ideas about this came from Marjorie Williams’ article about Princess Di’s death, titled “The Princess Puzzle.” Williams noted that “it is rare the little girl who wants to grow up to be queen. To wish to be a princess is not simply to aspire upward, to royalty; it is also to aspire to perpetual daughter-hood, to permanent shelter. To dependency.” Williams explained more precisely than I could ever say the problems I had long felt about our obsession with princesses. I have seen this in friends who come home from visiting their families only to sink into a depression because “mom is no longer around to take care of me.” One of my best friends commented that it’s so hard for her to go back to doing everything for her toddler after her parents leave, as if life were unfair for hoisting this chore on her when her mother was perfectly capable of doing it all. And this attitude perplexes me, because while I absolutely love spending time with my own parents, there is always a sense of relief when I return home and can be more fully in charge of my life once again. I worry for these friends who would rather be taken care of than take ownership of their own lives. Will they learn to be happy on their own?

After mentioning the several bad romances that Di was involved in during her life, Williams states that “for all her fame and her thirty-six years and her accomplished motherhood and her millions, the life of a princess prepared her very poorly to look after herself.” And Williams finally concludes that, “The moral of the story is that whether she’s riding in a gilt carriage that bears her to St. Paul’s Cathedral for the wedding of the century, or in a black Mercedes that bears her to her death, a passenger—which is the most a princess can hope to be—is never in charge.”

I don’t want that fate for myself, or for my daughter. I may call Kendra my Princess, and occasionally Principessa (thank you, Life Is Beautiful), but in reality I want a lot more for her. I want her to be strong and independent. I want her to aspire to be a queen some day. And while I am sure that she will one day discover and fall in love with all of the other Disney princesses (I know I can’t keep her watching Mulan for forever), for me to encourage this “I’m a passenger in my life” mindset would feel akin to pushing her to try to come in second in a competition. Why would I hope for her to win a silver medal when what she should be striving for is the gold?

Postscript: Just now as we were watching Mulan, Kendra declared, “Bad guys! Fight them!” and proceeded to poke the Huns on the TV screen with a plastic sword. I’m very proud.

P.S. (From Jill) The only Disney flick we watch is Newsies or "The dancing boys" as Quinn calls it.

A blessing on "the Game"

Now, for those of you who know Mormons, we tend to take some things very seriously as a collective whole. There are other things we value as individuals, but we keep some of these guilty pleasures pretty separate on Sundays so neither the twain shall meet.

For example, Alpine Mormons never mention the Super Bowl at church even if they are individually counting the minutes to kick off during the closing prayer. Any Super Bowl parties are disguised as "Sunday Dinners," and on it goes like that. I am sure we are not the only religion to draw the line in the sand here. Sunday sports' politics and faithful Sunday worshipers can get rather sticky, so, in Alpine at least (where 99 percent of the people are Mormon) we just leave them separate. (Please note that the leaders of the Mormon boys where I grew up were quite vocal about their extravagant Super Bowl parties after church.)

Anyway, in Alpine, it is all unspoken.

Until today.

A man got up to give the opening prayer in church today -- about 7 hours before kick off. He gave a very quiet and reverent prayer. And then still in his soft and very sincere voice, he finished with these last lines:

"And, heavenly father, please bless the players today that no one will get hurt. And, father, bless the teams that our favorite ones might win. And we say these things in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen."

Well, know we know where to go if our party runs out of Pizza.

Our Future President

Me: Hey, Quinny, who is the President of the United States of America?

Quinn: Um ... Obama

Me: Where does he live?

Quinn: Um ... (thinking, thinking, thinking) ... In him's White House.

Valentine's Pride

In the car last night, I was trying to teach Quinn a little about Valentine's Day. I starting talking about Love and the people we love and saying I love you and well, Jesus, of course, I guess. I was explaining what a Valentine card looks like when Quinn interrupted me.

"Mommy, I so proud a you."

"Oh, really? Thanks, baby. Why?

"'Cause you do all the things."

Happy Valentine's. 'Nough said, I think.

The Princess Party

I thought I would be that mom that does not allow Disney stuff and "Princess" stuff all over our home and lives, but I seem to cave more and more. it makes Quinn so happy, and as long as I am not spending much money and out lives seem balances with other fun stuff, I say, "Why not?" Quinn got a princess nightgown from her cousin several months ago, and it became a fast favorite. that is how she learned the princesses names. Then she just seemed to catch on to dress up, necklaces, fancy shoes and the whole thing.

So, I decided to roll with it, and when I found out about a free party at out local Disney Store, I took her. We borrowed a dress from her friend Asher, and off we went. (wink, wink: we used the 20 percent off we got at the party to make sure that after her big birthday she will not have to borrow anymore.) She wore her dress up shoes that Asher gave her for Christmas, and she piled on the necklaces. She walked all by herself in the mall and looked like a beauty queen.

The party was planned for older kids, but everyone was Quinn's age. It was a little princess school where they taught the princesses how to wave and drink "tea." She loved it. And I had a nice time shopping for her birthday while she enjoyed the big event. At the end of the party, she "graduated" and was crowned Princess Quinn!

Sitting with her friend Paige.

A new crown!

Mom and McKenna and Bridget and Claire stayed to watch, and we ran into an old friend from California. Diana West!

Someone's dress got a little itchy!

Tea Time!

Princess Quinn!

"I'm so pretty. Mommy tell me I'm soooo pretty."

Crazy Kristie Quinn

Our little Quinn has quite the personality. Remember just a few months ago when she said she DID NOT like costumes? Well, apparently she changed her mind. She loves to dress up. She especially loves her nigh gowns, but she also loves dance clothes and dress up clothes. We do not have very much to choose from, but Quinn gets very creative.

This is Quinn's standard outfit whenever she is at home.

I recently forgot about a dentist appointment, and I didn't have time
to convince Quinn to change.

Luckily Quinn has some crazy friends, too. She and Asher have so much fun dressing up.

Asher let us borrow a princess dress to wear to a party at the Disney Store. Here is Quinn modeling her masterpiece just outside the mall before the party.