Marinda the Brave

My 2013 kicked off with...silence.

We pulled into the parking lot of our new apartment building, carried a sleepy, cranky little girl up the flight of stairs, and confronted a fortress of cardboard boxes.

An epic unpacking battle ensued, and two days later, I was down to three boxes, a Rubbermaid tub, a stack of wall hangings, and not much to keep me busy while Scott spent some long days at work. Sure, he only technically worked eight hour days, but his eight-hour-days became my ten-hour days because he left a half an hour before work, took an hour lunch break, and didn't get home until 5:30. I'd watched all our new Christmas movies three times over. With no internet, and no basic cable, I had no clue if America had gone off the fiscal cliff, how the Aggie baskeball season was going, or if anybody even cared to email or message me on facebook. And leave it to Kevin to take some great naps during this time (what an angel).

So I did what I always do when I am highly emotional and slightly bored.

I read a book.

Actually, I read eight of them.

In two days.

Bless your heart, Beverly Cleary. How did you know I needed Ramona and Beezus and the whole Quimby family and all of Klickitat Street to get my year started in the right way?

This week, Ramona taught me a thing or two. I learned that, since Beezus is practically my 1970s self, I owe a whole lot more credit to my little sister for putting up with me (Ramona is her 1970s self). I learned that it is okay to be your own person and be creative. I learned that sometimes people just don't understand you. If you understand yourself, that's okay. I learned that we all face challenges at all ages. For Ramona, that was behaving in Kindergarten, getting along with her annoying baby neighbor Willa Jean, sleeping in her dark and lonely new bedroom, and doing her part to keep her family functioning.  I love the scene in Ramona the Brave where her sister Beezus tells her to grow up and Ramona replies, "Can't you see I'm trying?!"

I thought, I'm trying to grow up too, Ramona. Twenty-five years old and I am still trying. So I got outside of my comfort zone this week. I stopped making excuses and started driving around the Salt Lake Valley. I quit waiting for Scott to help me and hung the pictures by myself (who cares if they are a little more crooked than when he does them?). I kept the kitchen clean (until yesterday, when I just plain decided I didn't want to do dishes for a day). I attended a new play group with Kevin. I started writing again. I set some new goals for a new year. I started to look for things to look forward to in order to drive away the January blues. I invented a new game to play with Kevin. And I decided that this year, I am going to be brave.