Vote for Belty Song

Here are two videos of me singing the two "belty"/loud songs I'm considering for the American Idol audition. I will also be posting the two soft/controlled songs soon. Please watch both videos and vote for your favorite by leaving a comment. Bare in mind that most auditioners only have between 10 and 30 seconds to wow the producers. I look forward to your input.





Ethan and I recorded these in a fever while Harper and Jack were momentarily distracted by a Baby Einstein video in the living room. In fact, you can hear Jack squealing while he scoots down the hall in the Dixie Chicks' song. Unfortunately the video camera is not the most amazing sound recording system, but we wanted to get something up so we could hear your thoughts.

Further consideration: It has been tossed around the blogosphere that one should not sing a Dixie Chicks song for Fox producers. (Remember the Dixie Chicks caught a lot of flack from their conservative fans for their opposition to the war, and Fox has a reputation for being a conservative network.) Any thoughts? Also, last season, Syesha Mercado received quite a bit of praise for her rendition of "A Change is Gonna Come" and it can be a dangerous game to set yourself up for comparison. Any thoughts?

Oh My Goodness... Three Weeks?!

http://www.americanidol.com/news/view/?pid=1367

Fear and Gratitude

Everyone says that having children changes you; even Johnson & Johnson has a commercial on TV right now saying as much... I believe it's phrased "Having a baby changes everything." This cliche is repeated because it resonates. Since I've had my children I have changed... but actually I think the most important changes began when I married Ethan. That was the beginning of my "attached" life.

As a teenager and young adult, I never really felt the invincibility or impulsiveness associated with this phase. I was aware of my mortality and I was intentional. I was never reckless with my body or my health, and I appreciated my life and opportunities, but I was never afraid of losing it either. In fact, I had heard that many fear death, but I didn't really understand why one would fear what is inevitable. Maybe I took life for granted. I felt a lot of freedom and enjoyed those years, the feeling of being "unattached", and all of the possibility that implied. Retrospectively, this period is marked by fearlessness and independence. But when I compare myself now to then, I really appreciate where I am now: I prefer being attached.

When E and I married, fear and gratitude became a part of my life. I began feeling much more fear. All of a sudden, I have someone I could lose and whose loss I'm not sure I could actually recover from. At the same time I've felt afraid, I've also felt lucky. I have someone I don't want to loose, and I am so grateful for who-Ethan-is, the unique set of characteristics that he possesses. I know no one else on earth could suit me the way Ethan does. While appreciating my husband, I have felt at once the deepest fear I've ever known, and also the deepest gratitude.

At first, I worried about just losing him, especially and specifically losing him without ever having our children. I knew that I wanted to be a mother, and that I wanted Ethan to be the father of my babies. His gentleness, insight, careful consideration, talents in the kitchen, patience, sense of humor... I wanted my children to inherit these traits and have his wonderful influence in their daily lives. The thought of that dream being robbed of me would have me gripped in fear sometimes, and then I'd shake myself out of that daze and remind myself that I could actually just look forward to this instead of worry about it not happening. I'd come back to reality feeling so grateful that I had such a loving husband and future-father.

Since marrying Ethan, I've begun praying again. It may be ironic to say that, considering Ethan is not particularly religious, but the joy our marriage has inspired definitely makes my cup run over and I often feel compelled to thank God in these moments. My most common prayer is one of simple thanks. I silently thank God when I have a moment and I am thinking of how lucky we are to have each other, how our happiness continually grows and I always feel like I am happier than I've ever been, how confidently I can face an unknown future because I have a wise husband who I can trust and who values me.

Now that we have Harper and Jack, my fears have not subsided; they have changed. I still worry about losing Ethan, and I wonder how could I manage the two kids without him? But my greater concern is now how my kids would manage if either one of us were not here. In the course of three years, I've got two amazing people who really rely on me and Ethan. I fear death in a way that was completely alien to me at age 20. In fact if 20 year old Ruthie were to see me now, she wouldn't recognize this new part of herself at all.

Being attached to my wonderful family has brought with it a fear of losing any one of them, and also a fear of how they'd cope if I weren't here, but I am learning to not allow myself to tarry in those thoughts. As soon as I have the "What if..." imaginations, I have learned to say "Thank you" to God for giving me such joy and feel instead the warmth of loving my family rather than the thought of losing them. I've learned that fear and gratitude are incompatible. When I choose gratitude, the fear runs away. I've never had to so much to lose, but then again, I've never had so much.

American Idol

Since the season finale of season 7, I've been researching and remembering songs that suit my voice. Those who are close to me or who've known me since the high-school-solo days know that I have fancied myself a singer and that music moves me, more than any other art form. A close second is words/literature, specifically the conciseness and subtlety of poetry... but see, music can marry the two-- tune/melody with words, and thus, for me, its power is unmatched.

I am reminded of my little son, Jack. Over the last month or so he's begun bouncing to rhythms, both musical ones (a new song on the stereo) and ambient ones (two blocks struck together). His lullaby soothes him. He's only 8 months old, but he is sensitive to sounds. They clearly please him and comfort him. "Music hath charms to soothe the savage beast" (Shakespeare), I suppose. Even Harper remarked the other night while I sang to the two of them, "Mama, I like when you sing that song because it makes me feel calm." Music must just be a part of our human nature: the desire to make and hear beautiful, organized sounds, just as we attempt to beautify and organize our surroundings.

As I weed my garden and plant new flowers, I am gratified by the changing shape of our yard, the way it begins to feel cheery or functional, bountiful, tame, or comfortable. Gardening is satisfying in similar ways to music and singing for me; both change the way I feel, both improve my well-being, both satisfy, both make me feel more like myself.

I haven't been singing enough over the past few years. Since college, I haven't been involved in any formal or organized singing group like a choir or a band. As a result, singing has been left to the spare moments, moments I have fewer of as I've had my children. I used to sing on my commute to work as a teacher. The half hour to and from afforded enough time to sing with my favorite songs. But since I've been at home I haven't had a commute to myself. I'm never alone. Trips to the grocery store are with my kids in tow, Harper narrating and questioning, all of us singing along with kids' music. Kids' songs don't have quite the sweeping power of grown-up tunes. There are no notes to hold or phrases to belt, no differences in dynamics whatsoever. The words are often just-for-fun, joyful, or didactic-- never the gritty stuff of adult music. I've actively missed music, and as I've begun carving out some singing time the past few weeks, I've realized that it's not something I want to leave behind anymore.

Over the course of this season of American Idol, I've begun to imagine myself a singer again, as far removed as it is from my day to day. This fall (season 8) is my last chance to actually audition because I am 28 years old. Knowing this is my last opportunity for the show has infused a little urgency and excitement into my thinking. I've always wanted to pursue something musical, and this year, I am going to do it. I know its bold to say this publicly, but I am going to go ahead and dream big, and I am going to practice and prepare. I am making some time for my lofty dream.

Getting Crafty

I didn't really know I had it in me, but over the course of a few days, I've become a hot glue gun junkie.

The other morning, I visited Erin Largoza and the kids played together while she showed me her latest obsession, making hair clips for her unborn daughter. After having two (beautiful) sons, she is expecting a girl and she's very hip on the idea of another female in the house. She had her supplies out and was tinkering with how to make it all work and what ribbon and buttons to pair together to make the cutest clips. She had a few already made and she made a couple while we visited. Harper left her house that morning with an Erin Largoza original hair clip in her hair, a very cute one with a blue flower on it. Harper wore the clip all day and I admired it, and then in the evening we had the Clark family over. Katia complimented Harper's clip and it occurred to me that I could make them, too!

So while I composed my own designs, I sat there thinking, why had I resisted this crafty concept? I concluded that I hadn't jumped at the idea because it feels so out of my personality to be buying ribbon and buttons, browsing the scrapbooking section of the craft stores. It feels like another kind of mom, inconsistent with the dirt under my fingernails. Since the only jewelry I wear consistently is my wedding ring and the bobby pin in my hair, I don't think of myself as particularly girly and I suppose I was thinking of the hair clips as a girly, feminine thing-- fun and attractive, but completely unnecessary. (Yikes, is that what "girly" conjures for me?) Added to the inherent girliness of the clips themselves was the girliness of the act of making clips as well: taking the luxurious time out to create something beautifying.

Irresistable side note: I remember when I read The Great Gatsby in high school, E's favorite book, and the character Daisy described what kind of daughter she wanted her little one to be-- a "beautiful little fool". As frightening as this was to conceive, that a mother would want her daughter to be nothing more than a shell of a person, existing for others' pleasure rather than her own, the sentiment mirrored my own conceptions about beauty and smarts: that they are incompatible. I realize I am entering into murky feminist territory here, where there is much to say and I really don't want to flesh it all out... I merely want to point to the fact that I have focused rather on my brain than my face. (No judgment here for the face-focusers. Ok, maybe a little.)

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I realized this week that I could be girly and submit to my visions of cute hair clips for my daughter, beautifying her without making her into a fool. Truth be told, I do want Harper to be beautiful. In fact, I think she already is and it's something about her that I appreciate. And beauty doesn't have to just be for the benefit of others. I think Harper will someday enjoy her own beauty (if I don't mess her up with some complex and society's definitions don't impose too much). And as for her mind, she's already proven to be a smart girl. She's two and a half and reading. We spend time learning together, more time than we do slipping clips into her hair.

And so I reconciled my concerns about beauty and brains: that both Harper and I could spend a little more time on the girly, fun beauty stuff like flowery clips and grograin ribbon and that doesn't lessen our smarts or tenacity, strength or cleverness. It simply means we can be beautiful and smart. Why not put the cherry on top?

In Beginning...

Once Ethan and I went to a God class at the synagogue. I wasn't raised Jewish, in fact I was raised Christian/Mormon, but I've always been curious about Judaism, and I've always been attracted to Jewish culture, not the least of this curiosity includes falling in love with a certain tall, dark Jewish man named Ethan Isaiah. So we went to this class, which had an interesting premise: attempting to infer some of the traits of God through his actions in the Bible. It began with Genesis 1:1, which is most often translated as "In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth." It was claimed in the class that the more appropriate translation of this verse would actually be "In beginning, God created the heavens and the earth...". This minor difference of losing the definite article has interesting semantic ramifications.

"In the beginning..." suggests a void before, a definite starting point to which one could point and define a start. It could suggest even a beginning to the universe or God himself, placing a limit on what we normally conceive of as infinite. Sans 'the', the verse suggests a more fluid start, less defined and less exclusive. Perhaps God existed but was static, and then at some point began to create; among the first of his creations was the heavens and the earth.

Why am I writing this out? Well, I'm starting this blog today, which definitely didn't exist yesterday, but represents merely making more concrete (typed words) my abstract thoughts and feelings, which predate the existence of the blog itself. In beginning, I'd like to say I've already begun.