The first installment in my Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life. See Amy Krouse Rosenthal’s book and my previous post for more information.

Accents: I love accents. Always have. My favorite being Australian, because it has a way of being sophisticated and rugged all at the same time. I think that’s sexy. I used to be good at accents. At age 10, I was given a part in the play South Pacific, and I’m almost certain it was entirely because I could do a very good French accent at that time. I’ve lost my ability now, however. Or maybe it’s just that I never was as good as my 10-year old brain (and ego) thought I was.

Addictions: Current addictions include – mint, brownie sin bars, my iPhone, Google Feed Reader and Twilight. Past addictions include – origami, lemon bars, cheese, Wicked and digital scrapbooking. I think I have an addictive personality. So it’s probably really good that I don’t drink, or smoke, because I have very little will power. See also: Motivation

Answers: I am the kind of person that likes to make up answers. One of my main talents? Faking it. So, if I don’t know the answer, I often just make it up. It is for this reason alone that my father-in-law thinks I am one of the smartest people on the planet. See also: Questions, Grammar, In-laws

Author: In college, I read a book entitled, Let Your Life Speak: Listening for the Voice of Vocation. Based on the title, I thought it was going to be about leading a good life so that others would look up to you, admire you, call you a good person. A “city on a hill” sort of deal. Well, it turns out that the book is more about letting your life tell you what it wants to do with you, instead of trying to force your life into a little box based on your expectations for yourself. It turns out, the answer to “What do you want to be when you grow up?” is inextricably linked to what you wanted to be as a child. The things that you have always enjoyed can give you insight into what you should be.

For me, I have always wanted to write. But, like many people, I didn’t realize that was what my life was calling me to do. Partially, because there are many other things I enjoy doing. And also because I’ve never felt like I’ve specifically had anything to say (uh, hence this blog of random musings without a point). Sure, little stories here or there, but nothing with substance.

As a kid, I was always writing stories, and I was excellent at the titles and the hook. You know, that opening line that makes the reader want to read more? I’d even get some decent story ideas. But my problem has always been follow through. I’d get a good first few chapters done, get bored or distracted, and inevitably end the story with “and then they were all taken away in an alien spaceship.” I’m pretty sure that’s how my best attempt, Santa and the Missing Reindeer ended up.

I also gave a shot to poetry. But I can’t do the deep, meaningful stuff. Nope, no haiku’s for me. Give me the rhyming couplets and iambic pentameter every time. And I’m always happy to recite my award-winning (no kidding there) George Washington poem to anyone that wants to hear it.

But I’m still waiting for my muse to kick in. I read the stories about authors who have been inspired by life situations, or who woke up from a dream and wrote a 500 page book the next day, or who made up bed-time stories to children and made it into a multi-million dollar deal, and I grimace a little. Will it be my turn, someday, to have a story that I feel strongly enough about to see through to the end, instead of sending all the main characters to outer space? Who knows. But if someday I do come up with it, at least you, the readers here today, will be able to point and say, “Hey, I used to read her blog!”

One of my biggest complaints about my blog is that I often struggle with coming up with something to post about on a regular basis. Sure, my kids are an endless bounty of inspiration, but the stories all start to look the same after awhile. The kids do something funny… or obnoxious… or mischievous. I brag about their accomplishments. Occasionally, I brag about my own accomplishments or tell a little story about the hubby. But if I’m going to take the time to put myself out there for the whole world to see, I’d like to do something more original, or at least more real.

Recently, during my digital scrapbooking phase, I came across an interesting little book by Amy Krouse Rosenthal called, Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life. Her foreword includes the following:

I have not survived against all odds.
I have not lived to tell.
I have not witnessed the extraordinary.

This is my story.

There is something inherently exciting to me in this concept. Back in college I discovered a segment on CBS News by Steve Hartman, entitled, Everybody Has a Story. For every single segment, Hartman would throw a dart on a map of the United States. He would travel to whatever city it landed on, randomly flip through the first phonebook he found, and pick out a name. Then he would contact that person and ask to do a story on their life. Inevitably, most people would emphatically insist that there was nothing newsworthy about them. And yet, every segment would be a moving testament to the human existence. I pretty much cried every time. Or I laughed. Usually both.

The concept of everyone having a story has enthralled me ever since. Partially because I do believe it’s true, and partially because the only way that story can be given life and become worthy of catching anyone else’s interest is through the storyteller’s ability.

Amy Krouse Rosenthal’s ability to tell her own mundane, yet exciting, story is amazing. And because I rarely have any original thoughts, I wanted to steal her idea. Her definitions of the purpose of an encyclopedia include:

“Encyclopedias have often reflected fairly accurately the civilization in which they appeared.”

“All great encyclopedia makers have tried to be truthful and to present a balanced picture of civilization, as they know it, although it is probable that no encyclopedia is totally unbiased.”

So, for the next few weeks, I intend to compile my own Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life. My goal is to “fairly accurately represent [my] civilization,” (i.e. my life, my family) and to do my best to present a balanced and unbiased picture, to the extent possible.

It’s a wonderful exercise, and I welcome anyone who wants to join in to do the same. Do it on your own blog, or in your personal journal. Just write your story! And I also think it would be really fun if you loyal readers (all 4 of you) chose to add to my encylopedic entries. Choose your own entry for each letter and add it to the comments section; make it three sentences or 300 – I don’t think there’s a limit. I know you all have a story, so share the love and don’t leave me hanging.

And now for an update on my sweet (and troublemaking) baby boy.

Nolan has learned his first sign. He can now sign “All done” when he wants to get down from his high chair. Unfortunately, he still jumps the gun sometimes, and gets so excited about being able to communicate, he’ll tell us he’s all done before he actually is.

He’s also developed a couple favorite games that he’ll play with anyone, anywhere. The first is, “How big is Nolan?” Whenever he is approached with this question, he’ll throw his hands way up in the air with a big cheesy grin on his face (to answer, “SOOOOOOO Big!”). His other favorite game is to throw himself backward of your lap and hang upside down… over, and over, and over, and over. He’s really quite a monkey.

Nolan can climb the stairs, and I expect him to be walking within a month. He REALLY wants to move. And in all honesty, I can’t WAIT for him to walk. He is such a hoover and eats EVERYTHING off the floor. Hopefully when he’s upright, the minute pieces of fuzz and dirt won’t be quite as easy to spot. A couple weeks ago I fished (most of) a ladybug out of his mouth. I almost gagged.

Because almost every time I pick him up, I run my finger through his mouth to fish out crumbs, Nolan now believes this is the standard greeting. So, he’ll promptly oblige by sticking his little finger in my mouth as well. And he’ll grin a big toothless grin, like he’s so proud he’s learned this little nuance of grown-up communication.

Nolan’s smile is to die for, and he already knows how to milk it to his advantage. But he’s also highly opinionated and doesn’t really like to take no for an answer. Because I’m in the middle of a 3-year old stage and now know what to expect, I’m a little sad to know that this sweet funny guy will someday turn into a preschooler. But for now I’m enjoying his smiles and loads of innocent mischief. Yes sir, that’s my baby.

Pictures have been lacking of late, but there are a few things that Mylie and Nolan have asked me to share with you stalkers out there.

Mylie is learning to write and spell. Her first words she can spell from memory? #1) Mylie. No surprise there. #2)Costco. Yes, that’s right, the glorious mecca that serves her favorite food – hot dogs. Do we go there too much? Perhaps.

Along with spelling, she has begun to write as well, which thrills me to no end. It’s so fun to watch her learning and practicing. So far she has mastered H, M and T. ‘H’ is her very favorite, and every piece of paper in our house at this moment in time could probably be found to have an assortment of ‘H’s in various sizes covering it.

Mylie has also gotten swept up a bit in the patriotic mood that’s sizzling around here with all the election coverage. Her initial awareness of the patriotic feeling happened at my race in August, when she was really struck by the national anthem and the flag. Now every time she sees an American flag, she gets all excited and says, “Mommy, it’s a flag, just like at your race!” So last night Nick downloaded a worksheet from the internet that helps to teach young children the Pledge of Allegiance, and she has been very excited about practicing it.

She’s also become quite attuned to the campaign jargon that’s been floating around, so now anytime she hears a candidate’s name, she’ll shout it out as well. “Bock Obama” and “John Bacain!” would both be proud, I’m sure. She watched me become thoroughly elated over McCain’s pick of Sarah Palin, and we sat together and watched the whole introduction together. Now, everytime she hears soundbites of Palin’s various speeches, she’ll shout out, “That’s SARAH!” and she’ll clap her hands and get very excited. Yeah, that’s my little politically informed 3-year old. Grandpa Bryan, this one’s for you!