Diddy 2: The Solution to Everything

I have a class this term that is all about teaching English as a second language, and all we do is discuss controversial topics about rights of individuals. It has the tendency to get quite heated. Everyone is looking for the perfect solution...but there isn't one to be found. It was getting kinda ugly, between class members (and the things we discuss about how society handles the topic, is SUPER ugly).

I got slightly distracted, because I couldn't handle all of the yuckiness. I wanted to figure out what the utopian solution would be...then it hit me upside the head. THERE ARE SO MANY ETHICAL QUESTIONS ABOUT A MYRIAD OF TOPICS ACROSS THE WORLD, AND THE SOLUTION OF HOW TO ACT AND WHAT TO SAY IS......

BE CHRISTLIKE!

Enough said.

Fatherhood

This video was even more powerful for me then the previous one. I love it. This is the kind of man I am looking for. He who understands his role as leader in our home. He who knows the magic of fatherhood. He who knows the responsibility, and he welcomes it. 

We will face those sticky kisses, nap time, jammies, and tantrums together.

Children

I watched this a few weeks ago, and was filled with love and faith. I truly look forward to the future. Today my roommates and I were discussing motherhood and the collegiate world. We were trying to find the balance. 

Was school our first plan?

Was it the back up plan? 

Could we personally handle both at the same time?

Then I remembered this video....and I knew I needed to share it.

Diddies

I need to be blogging more. Not because I want fame and fortune. Not because I want a huge following...but because I need to share my thoughts...and someone needs to hear them...and the Lord said "DO IT" and I respond "Yes SIR!"

I  have a couple random thoughts I will share. I may not be doing HUGE lengthy posts like I have in the past, but I am going to put little ideas, diddies, and videos. (Is Diddy a word? I want it to be a word) I wanted to call my new little posts : Dinda's Diddies...(Della used to call me Dinda) but then I realized that my innocent brain would think nothing of that title, and somebody else might just have a cow....so I will do a variation...because I REALLY like the word Diddy.....

I will call it Diddies by Dinda...
There. It is decided.

Diddy #1
Thursday I was volunteering at an After School Homework thing...I asked to help a child with an IEP (Individualized Education Program). These student can have mild behavior problems or something morel like a major learning disability.

I will call the little boy, Sir A.

Sir A and I were working on math homework. I leaned in to look at one of the questions, and his scent awakened my senses. My nose remembered something.

I smelled poverty.

I knew that scent: it is the one of unwashed hair. The lack of soap/perfume smell on clothing. It was the smell of "not enough". It was the smell of many of my beloved Navajo children.

It was a smell that made me LONG to give Sir A more. It was a smell that made me love him.

I love Sir A.

Treasure Found

I was clearing out all of my files from the family computer, and came upon a writing assignment from High School, and I wanted to share it with you before I delete it forever.Can you guess what event I was writing about?

The ugly old yellow room seems to shrink as time drudges by. The air is suffocatingly hot, stale, and sticky. I hold my breath, timing each round, slowly watching moments go by.

A tug at my throat, and my eyes start to water. Hold it for five more seconds…two more…almost done…. I take a giant, and yet quiet gulp of sour air. Three more lousy never ending minutes.

Papers begin to rustle. Binders are shoved into already full bags. Desks shift and creak as lethargic teens begin to shuffle towards the looming door. I join the mass, and drift close to the afternoon gate.

The exhausting buzzer of freedom sounds, and bodies slowly start pouring out, like sand through a funnel. A wave of cool air brushes across my face, willing me to escape into the abyss.

I can see the bright blue sky, the twinkling ocean, and the pleasant red papery flowers cascading over the fence. The path is long, and my feet seem to drag as I make my way to the front of school. Each slow step is one towards to comforting arms of my mother and the new calmness of home.

I can see the shimmering head of red bounce in my direction.

“Hi,”

“Hi. Do you see Mom? I just want to go home.”

* * *

The familiar squeaking van pulled into the drive, but the silhouette within was unexpected. I wonder where Mom is? Oh well, I’ll tell Dad about what Natalie said.

“So today I told Natalie how we are all getting super excited. We are in the two weeks range, so its fair game anytime. She said that whenever we left, I should call her right away.”

“That’s funny you said that. Today it hit me that I should call my mom and dad. You know if we need to leave, somebody will need ta be here for ya. I just got off the phone with them before I came to get you, and I hope it all works out. They have to work in the mornings a couple days a week, and I’m nervous that we won’t be able to get a’hold of em.”

* * *

The strange creek of a garage door floated in the open wind. A familiar, slightly beat-up door, rose into view. The low squeaking rumble of the car dissipated. I stepped into the comfortable house and sighed a breath of relief. Light streamed through pail blinds, illuminating the new carpet. I walked directly into the room. My body and bags hit the floor within moments of each other. I’ll lay on fresh ground, smelling the newness of it, and drinking in the new memories.

“I love the new carpet. I can’t even remember what the old stuff looked like. Maybe we’re lucky we had a flood. This must be way better then what we had before,” I said to inattentive ears.

I gradually picked myself up, and walked towards the friendly kitchen. As I rounded the corner, I nearly ran into my mother. The two of us laughed, and soon my arms flew around her smiling body. I hugged her long and hard, pressing myself against her protruding belly.

“I love you Mom.”

My nose crinkles, as her auburn hair tickles my face. I enjoy the peaceful moment, sensing the softness of her skin, and sweet smell of her perfume. A sudden rush of chaotic noise flies into the hall, and overcomes the two of us. Bug off. Find your own person to hug.

I reluctantly turn away as my mother embraces another speed-talking daughter.

* * *

            Snack in hand and thoughts in tow, I head to the city hall of Parentingville, USA. On the outskirts of town, between the corner and the door, I get a funny sense flowing through me. For some reason, I pull over and listen quietly in the darkened bathroom. A silent commotion seems to be erupting among the folded laundry, and cell phone ridden room. Who’s he talking to? Grandma? Didn’t they just talk? Wait, what was she feeling all weekend long? How come no one told me? Stop playing the piano Lauren, I can’t hear him!

            Curiosity, excitement, and giddiness overcome me, and I find myself wandering into the room. I plop myself down in the middle of the room, eating my snack, looking innocent.

* * *

            The rickety door slams behind me, echoing past my ears. The silver car pulls down the drive, seemingly in slow motion, and yet with direct force. I wave excited and scared, but they don’t see me. I watch as they drive into the sun, hoping the next time I see my mother will bring unexplainable joy. My stomach aches as they disappear, fighting the worry of loss and fear. What did Dad want? What am I gathering? Where’s Emma? How long will it take? Should they have taken a towel? It would cost a lot of money to redo the seat.

* * *

            The house is surreally quiet. A pile of things wait patiently by the door. Our ears perk at the sound of any car. Breaks squeaking. Doors closing. I lose focus, and drift into thought of the building yet to be seen, the emotions still to be felt. Suddenly the large door brushes open, and the round, loving figure of my grandmother enters the room?

            “Where is everybody? We have things to do! Dad and I need to use the bathroom, and then we’ll be off.”

            I load my shoulders with bags of seemingly meaningless things. I drag my weighted body to the car, and pretend not to be excited. We quickly seat ourselves, trying not to show our excitement.

* * *

            My seatbelt tugs at my bladder, as the stop-go of traffic tortures us with want. Can’t they see we have somewhere to be? When did Grandpa start driving like an old man? Come on, you can go faster.

            We pass exit after exit, but never drawing nearer to our destination. Without noticing, we slowly turn off the road, and are immersed in a jungle of roads and lights.

* * *

The large building looms ahead, half greeting, half urging me to turn away. I fight the urge to drop the bags and run inside. I train my feet to walk slowly, pain in every step. We wander the cold, tart smelling halls, and enter a chalk smelling lobby. A couple worn couches dare me to sit. An oddly young woman, whimpers and complains right before us. I wrestle the thought to scold, but something stops me, pulling at my heart, knowing there is more than I can see. Before I can move, a familiar voice calls out, echoing in its hushness. We follow the beaming man down the wide hall, silent and anxious. I gingerly step into a dark room, filled with the eerie colors of fall. The large room seems empty except for a bulky bed. An orange glow surrounds my mother, the murky sunset illuminating her face.

I start to shrink from intimidation, but an unknown force draws my eyes upward. I breath deep and stare into the face of my worried, but determined mother. She trembles, but is firm in her conviction; I draw strength from the sight of her pained body. Just sit. Wait.

* * *

            The black sky twinkles with ideas. My eyes are heavy, but my heart is still pounding. I miss my mother. The soft snores of the next room lull me to sleep, as my brain wills me to stay awake. I listen intently for the sound of my dad, but it never comes. I drift softly to sleep, remembering her curly caramel hair, sharp blue eyes, and perfect fingers. I will see her soon, and we will make memories on the new carpet, staring at the sky.

Source: youtube.com via Suzy on Pinterest

In honor of our recent trip to Disneyland....This is the best video from Disneyland...EVER. Lauren showed this to me...

Muay Thai Fights

Last night I went to an event that I have been planning since Blanding. One of the members there owns a little fighting gym, Prevail Gym. His name is Anthony Ford, and he is a professional fighter...and a convert...and he invited the Elders to train with him in the mornings for exercise. When the sisters came to town, we were invited too. Many of you will remember some of my mission letters talking about how intense of a training program we were on.

The first week we were training with Bro. Ford, he mentioned how excited he was, because he signed a contract for a HUGE world title fight coming up soon. I asked when it was.

"March 2."

"MARCH 2?!?!?!? I will be home then! I could watch it if they broadcast it!"

"It is going to be in Salt Lake-"

"I LIVE IN PROVO!!!!"

...and a dream was born.

Last night I took my mom and dad to the Muay Thai Institute in Salt Lake City to a night of fights. The whole thing got even cooler about 2 weeks before I came home from Blanding, because I found out that one of the Less Active men we were working with, would also be competing in the fight night. WAHOO!

Jermaine Tisi was the second to last fight, with Bro. Ford as the final fight of the night. It started at 6pm, and Jermaine didn't fight until 9:40pm. Oye. Jermaine's fight was close. It was a good match and I was on the edge of my seat the entire time. In the end, Jermaine won by ONE point! WHHAAAA!!!!! and the crowd goes wild. What blows my mind is that one year ago, Jermaine was in the hospital battling liver failure...and now he has a state title! cool

When Bro. Ford comes out, he has the HUGE entourage. There is a guy playing the bag pipes and Bro Ford is kinda strutting/prancing in with pink shorts and pink ankle guards (mostly they look like an athletic version of compression socks from the hospital). He had TONS of Thai ceremonial stuff all over his body.

He gets up there and starts this Huge, dramatic, flowery routine. He's praying in all four directions, and dancing and prancing around. To be honest, he looked STUPID! Really dumb. My dad just raised his eyebrows and asked, scoffing, "Are you serious?" And even I was questioning why I was there if it was just going to be a silly show.

The kid he fought did not look experienced or even athletic. The kid was squishy! Roundness....NO edges. They start and I can tell Bro. Ford is feeling the kid out. Instead of three, 2 min rounds, this fight was five, 3 min rounds.

The kid comes out swinging. Not too speedy, but solid. He got Bro Ford a couple times...but Bro Ford just make faces at him like, "Seriously? Is that it?" Then during Bro Ford's prance/jump, the kid hits him square in the face and Bro Ford went down right on his bum.

WHAT? THE GROUND BRO FORD? SERIOUSLY? Are you doing this for show or did YOU get too cocky?

He jumps up and bounces some more. He throws a couple good hits and gets some in return. Then before anyone realizes, Bro Ford kicks the kid in the head. It looked and sounded like just a tap on the cheek, but the guy staggered back and looked kinda dazed. The crowd erupted and got on their feet.

WOOT! This fight is finally going somewhere. Now we don't have to watch an act. They can just fight like everyone else!

The kid throws a couple wild and big hits. They don't really make contact...

And then if you weren't watching, you missed it. Bro Ford kick him in the head again...but this time you heard the WHACK! ...AND THE KID HIT THE MAT!!!! WHAM! OUT!!! COLD!!! it took them 5 minutes to wake him up! and that was it! Match over. knock out with a foot, 2 minutes into the FIRST round! No action. Nothing. BAM! over.

So, that was my night. cool.