Queen Kelley

Whoa. Do I start all my Lost posts with that word? Well, it fits. This episode was completely heart-wrenching. All I could think was, “We’re gonna lose Desmond.” And of course the writers wanted us to think that, to hurt for it, and to hope for a better outcome…which we got. My thoughts, spoiler-filled as always:

1. I’m an idiot when it comes to issues of time travel. People had to explain Back to the Future to me. It’s a good thing the King decided to sit through another episode at my side, because he grasps those ideas more easily, I guess since he’s a math/science nerd. Anyway, we know there’s a time differential between the island and the rest of the world, and we presume it’s 31 minutes, but who knows? It could be more or less. It could vary. The island is a mystery for sure.
2. It appears that getting survivors off this island will be, shall we say, difficult. Seeing the horrible “side effects” Desmond (not to mention Minkowski) endured, I have to wonder if anyone else would be affected. Then there was the bit about having to be exposed to electromagnetic forces for the side effects to occur. Desmond was, of course, present at the destruction of the hatch, which caused a massive release of magnetic pressure (or something). Daniel Faraday was exposed to a large amount of radiation when he did experiments, so he is obviously in danger as well. This would explain his memory game with Charlotte and his relief at realizing that Desmond is his constant. (It’s a good thing he saved Desmond’s life.) But what about the rest of the survivors? Have they experienced enough of the radiation/electromagnetic whatever to endanger their journey away from the island? (Especially Locke, who was also present at the Hatch destruction.)
3. Why are the people on the boat so hostile? Why can’t they be more forthright about what they’re doing? Why is everything such a big secret? Ditto for the “freighters” who are on the island–Daniel (who, admittedly, has shared more than anyone else), Charlotte, Miles.
4. I am SO glad Penny answered that phone on Christmas Eve. I was not ready to lose Desmond.

That’s all I have tonight. This episode was even more brain-bending than usual for me. I think I need to go lie down now. 

Butterfly is our natural alarm clock (or unnatural, especially when she comes to our room at, say, 5:15 AM–all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed). Here are the top three ways she’s awakened us in recent months, and all have taken place just before 6:00 AM:

1. Barreling down the hallway on all fours, pushing open our cracked door, and making barking noises. “Lick, lick,” she said. “What are you doing?” asked my husband. “Are you a dog?” “Yep! Lick, lick, bark, bark!” (Pant, pant.) And we’re up.
2. Throwing open the door with such force that the noise alone jerks us from sleep, then flicking on the light switch, blinding us as she says, “I’m ready to get up now.” And we’re up.
3. Sneaking in quietly and proceeding to shine her flashlight around our walls, exclaiming, “Look, I made a doggie shadow!” And, you guessed it, we’re up.

Our mornings are made of moments like these, but I must say I prefer them to repeated night wakings of either daughter (one who either has to “tee-tee” or can’t sleep, and the other who either wants to sing in bed or beg until I relent and nurse her). Fortunately, I have a husband who has frequently been willing to get up early with one or both children so I can get more sleep. What a champ! The tide is turning, though, as Ladybug weans and the gift of having the King home by 4:30 or 5:00 outweighs sleeping in for me. I suppose it’s a good thing we have our (un)natural alarm clock. Otherwise we might just snooze all day. It wouldn’t hurt to catch up on months and months (years) of missed sleep, would it?

My mom recommended a blog by Annie Addington, a sometimes journalist for the Columbus, Georgia, Ledger-Enquirer. Being from a nearby small town that prints a tiny paper only once per week, my parents are regular readers of the Columbus newspaper.

Anyway, Annie’s life situation reminded Mama of mine–she’s a stay-at-home mom to two boys whose ages are close to my girls’. She also enjoys writing and reading and blogging about her experiences. Annie’s recent post, “15 moments,” inspired me. She wrote, “…being a mostly stay-at-home mom is as much endless little gifts as it is endless little chores.” Amen, sister!

The point of her post was to follow an idea based on the discipline of meditation (particularly as explored by Elizabeth Gilbert in Eat, Pray, Love, which I happen to be reading). The discipline is to focus on RIGHT NOW–not “what’s for lunch in three hours?” “where should we go later today?” “I wish I’d done the dishes last night so I wouldn’t have to do them before dinner,” “when will I find a moment to do my editing work?” etc., etc., etc. Here is my own list of today’s “present” moments.

- Watching 11-month-old Ladybug pull up on the door and flip her little hand up and down, saying “bye” to her Daddy even after he’d been gone for 15 minutes.
- Savoring my usual after-breakfast piece of chocolate, which at this time is from Russell Stover’s all-dark selection. (What? It’s my coffee.)
- Hearing 3-year-old Butterfly say, from her perch on the toilet, “Mama, I want to pet my baby sister’s fuzzy head.”
- Enjoying a hot shower, especially breathing in the steam to soothe my stuffy nose–even with a baby strapped into her booster seat just outside the open door and a preschooler strewing her tiny dolls all over my bedroom floor.
- Letting someone else read a story to Butterfly for a little while at library storytime, sitting with other moms and watching them try to subdue their own rowdy kids (so like my own!), and seeing Ladybug’s mischievous grin as she sped down a book aisle on all fours, then stood to pull books from the shelves.
- Reading some of the “new” books at home with Butterfly while Ladybug explored the playroom yet again, as if she’d never seen it before.
- Hearing people compliment my children while we trudged through Wal-Mart, stockpiling groceries for a week’s worth of cooking amid Ladybug’s shouts of “boon!” every time she saw a balloon and Butterfly’s constant, “Look, Mommy!” as she pointed to anything of interest.
- Watching the wind suck a blue balloon from the back of our van, across the parking lot, and down the street onto the nearby church grounds, and then making up a story with Butterfly about the traveling balloon (when we got home, she decided to draw a picture about it).
- Hearing the sound of the garage door and knowing that “Daddy’s home!”
- Enjoying Chic-fil-A with my family and being thankful that we eat dinner together every night, even if it is takeout sometimes.
- Feeling Ladybug’s arms around me in a tight hug, and hearing her say “Ma ma” as she crawled around looking for me.
- Sitting with my husband and reflecting on the day.
- Curling up with a few of Gilbert’s essays before I drift off to sleep.

I could use this kind of discipline every day–to live in the moment, no matter how seemingly mundane, and to realize the sweet little gifts life tosses at me every few minutes. Thanks for the idea, Annie!

This is an update on my earlier post, “Give the Man an Oscar, Already!” It’s also related to my Sweeney Todd review.  Johnny and his longtime partner Vanessa Paradis made the walk down the red carpet last night. I’m assuming they sat through the three-hour affair, along with dozens of other nominees and their supporters. I did not tune in to hear Jon Stewart make jokes between presentations. The whole thing is a big popularity contest, fashion show, and self-infatuated party that lasts too long. Still, I know it is an honor for those who win the coveted trophy.

For the third time, Johnny wasn’t one of them. I’m sure he didn’t cry over his breakfast cereal this morning, but it would be nice if the Academy recognized him for his work, which is always daring and different (and frequently odd). The members of the Academy tend to choose dark, depressing dramas, and I suppose some films in that genre require a bit more talent to communicate the absolute despair and heavy pathos of the characters. Again, it would be nice to see the Academy recognize a comedy (like Juno) and its players as making a significant contribution to the world of film. At least they have conceded to noting musicals lately!

I’m sure Johnny will continue to choose risky projects that defy any attempts to elevate him to typical superstardom. And I’m sure, in a few years, he’ll get another Oscar nod. Time will tell if he’ll ever take one home. But certainly, it’s not this year.

I spent most of this episode trying to remember whether the writers had told us about Kate’s pregnancy by Sawyer. I remembered it being hinted at, but I didn’t think it had been confirmed. Well, it hadn’t, and for good reason. My thoughts after this week’s episode:

1. I recalled from last week’s previews that we would learn about the fifth member of the “Oceanic Six.” Since we already knew about Kate, I figured we’d get a reveal right at the show’s end. As Kate climbed the stairs of her home after being vindicated, I said aloud, “It could be Aaron.” I was right. My question is this: What horrible thing happened on the island that would split Claire from her beloved infant?
2. Following that topic, Kate told Jack at the end of the episode, “I know why you don’t want to see the baby.” Is it because Jack thinks the baby is Sawyer’s, or because he knows it’s Aaron, thus his nephew? We learned in a previous season that Jack and Claire are half-siblings, sharing the same father. In the future, has Jack discovered this about he and Claire? If so, why is he hesitant to see his nephew?
3. I have to keep wondering, who in the world is this Benjamin Linus, and why does Miles think Ben can access millions of dollars? After last week’s flash-forward that showed Ben ordering even Sayid around, it is obvious that he has tremendous power, but who has given it to him, and for what purpose?
4. Locke put a grenade in Miles’s mouth. Wow. He’s really angry now. More importantly, he is losing control. That was obvious when he slammed Ben’s food tray against the wall. Ben is truly getting to Locke, and this is frustrating for me. I wish Locke didn’t have to lose his mysterious island connection, as he seems to be doing.
5. Did Sawyer not know that pregnant women who conceive on the island die? Because that would have been a great reason to be relieved that Kate was not indeed pregnant. It would have sounded a lot better to Kate’s ears than “What would we have done with a baby?”
6. What has happened to Sayid and Desmond and Frank the pilot?
7. And one more thing that bothers me: After her initial reaction to Charlie’s death a few episodes ago, Claire hasn’t visibly mourned for him at all. That’s just wrong.

As always, there is much to ponder, and another whole week to wait. 

I discovered this morning that Disney is making a bold move next year. A film called The Princess and the Frog will debut in theaters. This is not your typical Disney princess movie. For starters, the princess, Tiana, is FINALLY an African American girl. Also breaking with tradition, the story takes place in the recent past–the 1920s–and on American soil in the South of all places–New Orleans. One envisions the O’Hara Plantation, Tara, as a backdrop and wonders where the lovely, doe-eyed princess will fit in. According to some sources, at least, it seems she was originally intended to be a chambermaid. Yikes! In looking at the list of potential characters, I find a Southern debutante and a plantation owner in addition to the princess, and I learn that the main character’s mother was the former nurse maid of the debutante.

Of course, this has excitement and controversy written all over it. It is likely that even those who’ve longed for a black Disney princess for years (including, I’ll admit, myself) will take issue with some of the film’s ways of addressing a highly sensitive time and topic. Even while I cringe at the thought of overly affected Southern accents and wonder just how Randy Newman (of Toy Story, Monster’s Inc., and Cars fame) will replicate the incredibly soulful sounds of Louisiana jazz, I look forward to a film that will diversify Butterfly’s princess collection even a little bit. Right now, the most ethnic we get is Princess Jasmine from the Middle East–and we haven’t even been able to find her likeness in the tiny dolls my daughter loves so much.

When will they elevate Pocahontas or Mulan to princess status? I mean, after all, not all of the lauded six (Belle, Ariel, Jasmine, Aurora, Snow White, and Cinderella) were actual, true princesses. Still, I suppose it IS difficult to accessorize a Native American who appears in her film in scant animal-skin clothing or an undercover Asian warrior who wears chain mail for the majority of her movie. I wonder, too, if Princess Tiana’s main focus will be securing a prince. That story line’s getting old as well. In this multimillion-dollar industry, such a change is probably too much to hope for.

We conquered Butterfly’s vomiting a week ago, but now we have a new enemy–the Croup Monster. This is our first encounter with him, and he’s a rotten one. Finally slipping into a deep, soothing sleep after getting into bed too late, the King and I awakened to the tell-tale barking of a seal down the hall. The more Butterfly hacked, the more upset she became. The more upset she became, the more she hacked. After squeezing a dropperful of Benadryl down her throat to ward off what might have been an allergy attack (but, as it turns out, wasn’t), we alternated between trying to calm her, holding her in a steamy bathroom, and giving her sips of cold water. There were a few frightening moments when tears, mucus, and a swollen throat started to restrict her air intake, but she pulled through the incidents two nights in a row. During the daytime, as is typical with croup, Butterfly feels fairly well and displays signs of a common cold–runny nose and a congested cough. But the restless nights continue to wear at us. Her doctor prescribed a steroid to help at bedtime, so let’s hope it works. For now, I’ll try to stay awake on this beautiful day–such a contrast to last night’s angry storms.

Wow. Wow, wow, wow, wow. Knock me over with a feather. Okay, here are this week’s thoughts:
1. I can’t ignore the doozy that ended the show: as Lance hypothesized, Sayid makes it off the island, but the kicker is that he IS WORKING FOR BEN. Returning to his roots of cold-hearted torturer, he stalks people, makes contact with them, and then kills them. He’s not quite cold-hearted about it, though. As we saw, he began to care deeply for one of his contacts. And he was actually after her boss, though she got shot in the process. The irony is that she and her mysterious boss were after Sayid for HIS boss, who just happens to be, surprise of all surprises, BENJAMIN LINUS. What a shocker!
2. Even after exhibiting jealousy about Jack and Juliet’s camaraderie, Kate apparently chose to stay with the Locke group after going there to retrieve Charlotte. She and Sawyer had an interesting conversation in which he admitted not wanting to leave the island (for what is waiting for him in the real world other than possible jail time for murder?). He proposed that the two of them hang around and try to “play house.” Judging from next week’s previews, they take playing house very seriously.
3. We saw a bit of uncertainty on Locke’s part when he couldn’t find Jacob’s cabin. Ben jumped right on it by commenting that John wanted someone to tell him what to do next.
4. When Hurley asked Miles if the “rescue” team had come to kill them, Miles answered, “Not yet.” Right before that, when Hurley was talking to Sayid about the team’s possible mission, Miles cut his eyes ever so briefly in the camera’s direction, indicating that Hurley might be right about the survivors being disposable and certainly not the reason for the team’s arrival.
5. What kind of experiment did Daniel Faraday do? Obviously it had something to do with where the island actually is in relation to how it appears on an outsider’s computer charts. The missile fired off by the boat, containing a time clock, arrived on the island 30 or so minutes after it should have. Then, when pilot guy was getting ready to fly the chopper off, Daniel warned him to stay on the exact same course he used to approach the island, not deviating even slightly. The team arrived in an emergency landing, with all but the pilot bailing out at the last minute. How will the pilot mimic that?

I had more thoughts, but my mind is too full to remember them. I only wonder, who in the world is this Benjamin Linus, and why does he have so much power? He seems invincible, though he does bleed and get bruises. Also, can someone answer this? Why can’t those who want to stay on the island simply stay on the island, and those who want to leave simply leave? I mean, I know it’s been difficult for anyone to leave, but why is Locke so hung up on NO ONE getting off the island? Theories welcome. (Johnny-boy?)

Well, the King did redeem himself. No Russell Stover (as I thought, he figured we could get it much cheaper today), but he did give me three bags of non-Valentine’s decadent chocolate–two Ghirardelli dark chocolate blends, and one bag of milk, dark, and white chocolate truffles. MMMM! What can I say? He knows his wife. This evening, my parents will watch the girls while we dine for free at Carrabba’s Italian restaurant (thanks to a cash gift from the King’s parents!). But I suppose our best gift to each other this Valentine’s is the commitment to set aside one evening each week to devote only to us–no work, no separate TV rooms, no cleaning. Just us. Maybe we’ll actually have a chance to talk about something besides household management. Our other stipulation is (at least) one date night a month, away from the house, with no kids. I think these commitments will nurture our relationship in a way we tend to neglect these days.

Call me a chocoholic (and you would be absolutely correct), but one of my favorite Valentine’s treats is a box of Russell Stover chocolates. I’ve tried Whitman’s, Hershey’s, and random no-name candies, but Russell Stover beats them all. I’m sure there are much more delectable chocolates out there, and I probably couldn’t afford them. Maybe one day I’ll get to try them. For now, though, I’ll just hope the King gets the tiny little hints I’ve shouted at him for the past week and hands me one of these, even if it’s on Friday when he can get it half price. Seriously, I was at Wal-Mart (unfortunately a frequent hangout for me these days) earlier, and they offered an enormous box of Russell Stover chocolates for thirty bucks. THIRTY BUCKS! That’s some serious chocolate. Of course, as soon as I saw it at the store, I immediately sent a text message to the King regarding my find: “thirty dollar box of russell stover here!” He responded, “Where…wal-mart or the house?” Now what kind of question was that? When I told him it was at “wm,” he wrote back, “Well get it so that i dont have to (:” HELLO! Not only am I not going to buy a thirty-dollar box of chocolate, but I’m certainly not going to buy it for myself. Geez. I’m sure the King will redeem himself. To be continued…

What do you think about this? It seems a bit dangerous to me. Separate the genders, and then throw them into college or the real world, where–gasp!–they are suddenly together again. How will they learn to interact?

Oh please let this happen!

In case you’re interested, here is the current status on episodes remaining for your favorite shows.

Yesterday evening, I had the pleasure of finally meeting again with my writer’s group. Our ultimate goal is to gather every two weeks at someone’s home, discussing our ideas (and often our reactions to each other’s work), then dedicate a block of time to the act of writing. For me, this kind of carved-out slot of time and discipline is essential. Telling my sob story to my buddies last night, I nearly got overwhelmed. The kids and I play all day, and my only time to work is after their bedtimes. In those two hours before I’m ready for sleep, I cram in editing projects that carry deadlines. Call me frivolous, but sometimes I write emails to friends or visit a few favorite websites as well. And, believe it or not, sometimes I talk to my husband. Then it’s off to bed, where I will drift into sleep only to be awakened by a teething baby or a child who needs to potty. As I realized last night at Kevin’s, though, I don’t need a huge block of minutes to make progress on my novel. In little more than an hour, I produced 800 words–basically a chapter of my middle-grade fiction work. Now, I have a total of 50 double-spaced pages. With a couple more months of dedicated writing time, I could at least complete a first draft! Knowing this–that the story is brewing inside me all the time and, with a focused effort, seems to pour out relentlessly–is incredibly encouraging for this aspiring writer who sometimes wonders if I really have it in me. I do. I simply must take the time to release it and fine-tune it, and then I’ll use Kevin and Karen’s Christmas gift to me–the 2008 edition of Writer’s Market. As intimidating as it may be, I know that at least a submission is within reach. Acceptance by a publisher? Maybe. Maybe not. But I owe it to myself and my fellow writers to try.

What an incredibly dense episode. And, as always, it sparked more questions than it answered. Here are my thoughts:

1. The mysterious Abbaddon was the mastermind behind sending the boat team to search for the island. Getting Benjamin Linus is the reason for the mission. Is it because Ben killed all those Dharma folks? I can still see the mass grave in my mind.
2. Who are the dead bodies that appear on the 815 plane, which was discovered on the ocean floor? As we learned last season, none of the passengers apparently survived, though we see many of them alive and well on the island.
3. What is with John Locke? Is he completely crazy? What does it mean that Hurley saw Jacob’s cabin? Clearly, knowing that he saw it affected both Ben and John.
4. It seemed that Ben was telling the truth when John held a gun to his head (who wouldn’t?). He knew the names (and much more) of the helicopter team and why they were there. He also claimed not to know what the black smoke is.
5. Where are all of the Others? Is this something that’s been explained and I have forgotten? I know a handful were killed when they raided the beach looking for pregnant women. But there was a large group of them. Where have they gone? If anyone knows this, please comment.
6. Both Jack and his group and John and his group seem rather “Other-like”–suspicious, defensive, wary toward the newcomers. These feelings are completely warranted, but it does seem that they’ve become a bit like the original Others when it comes to new arrivals on the island.

As usual, I have no predictions or guesses or even hypotheses. This show blows my mind. I can’t believe I have to wait another week. And I can’t believe that, as of right now, we have only six more episodes to go. We will definitely be left with a major loose end. 

On this our second evening of season four’s Lost episodes, I wanted to let you fans know that Hurley has a blog. Or, more truthfully, Jorge Garcia has a blog. While I can’t assure you it’s always G-rated, he is kinda funny and fairly accessible–like Hurley. He often posts humorous photos as well.

Additionally, here’s a fair recap of the first show with the writer’s commentary. A good review of the show’s highlights if, like me, you missed some of the more important moments due to the sheer density of the premiere.

I don’t think I’ll get to sit through the airing tonight, as the King and I have slept maybe a total of seven decent hours in four nights this week due to Butterfly’s tummy issues and Ladybug’s infected ears. We’re not high-tech enough to have Tivo, but the good old VCR still works well enough for me.

As the King and I cared for Butterfly over the weekend while she suffered from a relentless stomach virus, it occurred to me for probably the hundredth time since I’ve had kids that the great role assumption has taken place. I grew up believing my mom was pretty much infallible. She could answer practically any question (even with “I’m not sure”), calm me instantly if I felt panicked, comfort me in sickness, keep control of our home, make our meals, ensure that we always had clean clothes (even though we eventually had to fold them ourselves!), work hard to teach other kids and spend evenings planning for tomorrow’s classes, serve at church, and probably dozens of other things I didn’t even realize. Strange, but even now, I go to Mama for assurance and advice at least two or three times a week. While I gave birth to my children, I certainly needed and appreciated my husband, but something in me also wanted Mama. She remains my first consult for advice on most issues, second after the King to hear news I want to share, and still the one I perceive as having a sense of control over her world.

Truthfully, I know some of this is a sham. It has to be. Many days, I feel completely inept when it comes to being a mother. I take good care of my kids, of course, read to them often, take them places, play on their levels. They are fed, bathed, entertained, loved. Still, the magnitude of what the King and I have done in creating these girls, who are growing to become people who contribute to the world much as we do, hits me sometimes. I feel more out of control than in, like I’m freewheeling it through our day together, that there’s no way the girls will ever see me as someone who has the answers.

Now I know how Mama probably felt.

Then, though, Butterfly begs me incessantly to read, play with her, or be a character from one of her favorite stories and act our way through the day. Ladybug crawls toward me rapidly whenever she sees me even after a brief absence, loves hearing me read and point to objects, enjoys dancing and singing with me. For some reason, maybe they are growing to think of me the same way I still think of my mother. That’s humbling, relieving, and intimidating.

Whoa. It’s so good to have Lost back, even though it makes my brain hurt and even though I think about it when I wake up in the middle of the night. What an intricately planned, expertly timed show! I don’t know how the writers wrap their minds around all the storylines and keep them straight, but they do a good job of it (hopefully they’ll start getting paid what they’re worth soon so we can have more than eight episodes).

After last night’s episode, these things stood out for me (some of them may be mere assumptions on my part):

1. Only 6 made it off the island, including Jack, Kate, and Hurley. I presume this because Hurley yelled out, “I’m one of the 6!” Of those three, Jack and Hurley are in terrible shape–depressed, delusional, determined either to get back on the island (Jack) or to stay away from it (Hurley).
2. Charlie is actually and truly dead (not that I doubted this).
3. The survivors have split into two groups, which I have thought would happen for a while now–those with John and those with Jack.
4. The people coming from Naomi’s boat are NOT very friendly.
5. Ben chose to go with John, a man he had shot and left for dead.
6. Hurley saw someone in a rocking chair inside a rundown shack. Was that Jacob? And was that John Locke who looked out the window at Hurley before Hurley turned away screaming?
7. In the future, someone related either to the island or to Naomi’s boat people is out to get Hurley, at least.

What a show. I have no predictions. Does anyone else?