December 31, 2009

My Precious Boy

Wesley is here and well. Better than well, actually, he's fantastic! He was born at seven pounds, four ounces, and 19.75 inches. All that heartburn I suffered through was well worth it for his beautiful head of dark hair, and contrary to popular belief, not all babies are born with blue eyes. We were not quite sure what color his eyes were when he was born, but they weren't blue and they've since turned to a gray-brown that I've never seen before, and I'm completely in love with it.

I don't have a picture that fully captures his greatness yet, but I doubt a picture will ever compare to him in person, so you'll have to make do with what I have. These pictures are copyrighted by JCPenney.

As you can see, he is the cutest baby ever. I love, Love, LOVE the picture of Wesley and Michael. I have more pictures to post that we have taken ourselves, but I haven't downloaded them to the computer yet. Hopefully I'll get that done soon, but one thing I have learned well is to not make plans or set time-specific goals.

December 28, 2009

I was wrong...

Darn it. So we're still waiting...and I'm to the point now where I'm done. The contractions got to about seven minutes apart, but it was really late so I went to bed, fully expecting to be woken by contractions in a few hours. But I wasn't. They stopped completely. Then yesterday I had contractions, and they got to about five minutes apart, and then they slowed down, and stopped. Grrr...

There is an end, though. At my appointment this morning I was about 3 cm and she said I was almost zero station, which means he really could come anytime. They cancelled the Foley catheter, so if he hasn't come by Wednesday, I'll go into the hospital for Pitocin then. At the latest, he will be here Thursday. They would have let me go in today, I think, but I really want to give him as much time to come naturally as I can, and still get him here before the new year.

Even now, though I am ready, I'm not desperate for him to come, and I'm thankful for that. Saturday was hard, after thinking that I was on my way to the hospital, but I'm okay now. I'm still sick of people asking me if I'm okay, but that's really the worst part.

December 25, 2009

Merry Christmas

Our Christmas was a fairly quiet one, spent mostly with Michael's family. We exchanged gifts, and as always, his parents went way overboard. It's nice though, in a way, because I know his mom really enjoys shopping for everyone and seeing us open everything. And she got me some more of the thick fuzzy socks I love so much. :)

I decided to write tonight because I think I am in labor. The very early stage, anyway. I'm pretty sure that if I am the later stages will not garner an "I think" so much as a "I'm in labor and if you bug me you'll regret it!"

If what I'm feeling are contractions, they are 10-20 minutes apart, lasting about 20-40 seconds. I would like to say I'm sure, but I'd hate to be wrong. I'll update as I can. Merry Christmas!

December 23, 2009

Come on Wesley!

At my appointment this morning I was 2 cm, and Wesley was in a posterior position. The midwife didn't say anything about effacement, but I assume it's advancing as well, since she said I probably won't need to go in on the 29th for the Foley catheter. Here's hoping I won't need the induction at all.

She stripped my membranes again, so that might move things along more too. It didn't hurt as much as last week, but she said she was pretty rough, so maybe it just hurts more when your cervix is less dilated. Or maybe it's just the difference between midwives.

Originally I was dreading being in the hospital on Christmas, but now I'm thinking I wouldn't mind so much. Being in the hospital (or even in labor and waiting to go to the hospital) would mean I wouldn't have to go to Michael's parents' or aunt's house and eat wierd food and pretend that this is my ideal Christmas. So, I wouldn't mind being in the hospital on Christmas...or anytime now, since I'd still be unable/unwilling to leave the house even if I wasn't in the hospital.

December 22, 2009

Vivid Dreams

I was right. With a little perspective, and time, and a little crying jag, yesterday morning actually wasn't so bad. Gotta love those hormones.

Can I also blame the hormones for the incredibly vivid dreams I've been having? At least once a week for the past few months, I've had dreams that seem so realistic. Maybe realistic isn't the right word, though, because it's certainly nothing that would ever happen in real life.

Last night I was back in high school and Mark, the guy I was completely in love with actually wanted to be with me (awesome!), but things were just a little off. For one thing, we slept together (as in really sleeping, nothing else), but I wouldn't have even done that, especially not in my house with my mom sleeping down the hall. Then when we woke up in the morning he wanted to tell Mom he slept there and that he wanted to marry me, and even though we didn't have sex I was very worried about getting pregnant...then I remembered that I already was and was relieved. Then I got mad at Mark for something and stole his care and drove to school. Somehow I managed to drive onto the median. Mark appeared and moved the car into a parking spot, but he did it with his hands. He literally picked the car up and put it down in the parking spot. Twilight, much? Well, yeah, turns out Mark was a vampire. I came to terms with that and then woke up.

The night before last Michael's mom was coming at me with a knife and yelling at me for not being Indian. I tried to remind her that she had another son to marry off to a proper Indian girl and she shouldn't worry about Michael because he didn't really want to bring his children up in the Indian culture anyway. Then she started chasing me and saying she was going to kill me, so I ran to our neighbor's house and he let me inside and called 911. I actually remember the conversation I had with the 911 operator, and feeling relief when I heard the sirens outside the house before she managed to break in.

Of course, I wasn't ever pregnant in high school, Mark was not a vampire, Michael and his family are not Indian, and I assume his mother doesn't actually want to kill me (thought I suspect she's not happy about me being Catholic and Michael converting, so that dream may have come from that).

And those were just the dreams from this week. I've had three of these really vivid dreams before, two of which used to be repetetive, but I haven't had them in a few years. So, three in my whole life, and now I'm having them at least once a week. I hope it stops after Wesley is born. I'm starting to be a little paranoid about how much I'm dreaming about Mark, though most of the time it's really Michael it just looks like Mark. It's still really wierd, and I hope it's the hormones.

December 21, 2009

Crappy Morning

How's your morning going? If it's going well, you might not want to read this post. While I'm aware that nothing that happened this morning was actually horrible, it all added up to a horrible morning for me, possibly only because I'm pregnant and hormonal.

What happened between my last blog post and now? Well, the first thing was the interview being canceled until after Christmas, when I might not be able to make it because I will likely either be in the hospital or recovering from child birth.

Then, I had to go out to Michael's mom's house because he wanted me to put FRAGILE stickers on the camcorder we just sold on eBay for shipping. Well...on the box...but anyway, that meant I had to deal with his mother's inane conversation on her usual topics of my pregnancy and her 'schedule'. Yeah, she doesn't work. She doesn't have kids at home. She doesn't have a frickin schedule, and I'm really tired of hearing about how much stuff she has to do.

Then I went and shipped the stupid camcorder, and the shipping cost three times as much as Michael decided to charge the buyer. We sold a $600 camcorder for $135, and lost $16 on the shipping. All because he wouldn't listen to me about the shipping charges. I am really okay with selling the camcorder for whatever we could get for it (within reason, which I felt $135 for a three-year-old used camcorder was). But losing money on the shipping because he wouldn't listen to advice from his WIFE? Not reasonable. Not even close to reasonable.

THEN, I got home and found myself locked out of the house. I keep my keys in my purse. Michael used them last night to lock the door and didn't put them back. I thought they were in my purse, when in fact, they were on the dryer. So, who comes to my rescue? Not Michael, because he's at work and on his way out of town. Michael's mom! YAY! I get to see and have to converse with Michael's mom twice in the space of an hour because he insists that she have a key to the house.

And THEN?!?! Instead of getting out of her car and handing me the keys to MY OWN HOUSE, or better yet staying in the car and handing me the keys, she got out of the car, marched up to MY door, and proceeded to unlock MY house. Then, she opens the door really slowly, because she simply assumes that I'm irresponsible enough to have left Harley out and she doesn't want him to get out. Except that I'm not. And her son is the irresponsible one, because if he had put MY keys back where they belonged, I wouldn't have been locked out of the house.

God forbid, though, that she let go of 'her' keys for two seconds and show me the respect I deserve. But, obviously, in her eyes I'm still a child, just like she sees her son, no matter how much she pretends to respect me. And if we take 'her' keys from her for any reason, the last thing she says is always "Make sure you get those back to me!"

Because, apparently, she has a right to have keys to our house. NOT! But Michael doesn't want to argue it with her, and he wants her to feel useful, and he wants her to have them in case of emergencies. Like this one. Except that he caused the emergency, and I would rather have driven to get his keys from him even though he was about 30 minutes away.

And now? Michael just called and he wants me to call his father at work. I JUST WILL NOT! I hate this place, and I hate Michael's interfering family who won't just leave us alone!

*We apologize, this special post has been interrupted so the pregnant blogger can have a major temper tantrum. She likely will not return today.*

I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas Eve Eve Eve Eve

I woke up this morning to freezing temperatures and sparkly frost covering everything! This is the closest this area ever gets to a white Christmas, and it came four days early! So not cool. Especially since the weather on Christmas is supposed to be a high in the mid-60s and rainy.

But, since it's all I can get, I'll take it, mostly because I can stay inside, nice and cozy warm, while looking outside at the pretty sparkly field behind my house (at least until the sun comes up a little more).

I have had one white Christmas. I visited my dad in Atlanta one year, and it snowed 2 inches on Christmas Eve. Dad said it was because I was there and winter was showing off just for me. :) I had never actually been in snow before, and I was fascinated by the fact that it actually was in flakes. I even did a snow angel (which basically just cleared the snow and left a grass angel) and built a family of very tiny snowpeople. I will always cherish that Christmas with my dad.

On a very different note, I had a job interview today, but one of the interviewers had a death in the family, so the interviews are being postponed until after Christmas. Which is okay, I guess, except that I might be in the hospital when they want me to come in. And even if I'm not, I can't start working until February 1, at the earliest. I would prefer to not start working until March 1, but I'm going to have to take a job if I can get it, because I've come to terms with something recently.

I can't be a stay at home mom. I would love to be, but Michael just doesn't make enough money right now. It's true that he makes enough for us to live on, but it's not enough to get the things I want, namely a house. I simply can't raise more than one child in this house. I don't even want to think about having another child until we have another house, or at least begin building one. We can't do that until I have a job. Michael also needs a new truck. His is 14 years old. It still seems to run fine, it's true, but it's practically a senior citizen. I'm afraid that, eventually, its 'heart' will just give out. And, finally, since I have to work, I want Wesley to be in a good daycare. I don't want Michael's mom or aunt or family friend watching him. I have different reasons for each, but I'm just not comfortable with any of those options, and I'm not leaving my child with any of them.

So, I have to have a job, preferrably one that's above minimum wage, but I'll take what I can get.

December 17, 2009

Induction Scheduled

This morning at my weekly doctor's appointment, I was still 1 cm and half effaced. So I asked if we could induce the week between Christmas and New Year's, and the midwife said that should be okay, since I'll be past my due date by then. She scheduled it for the 29th and 30th. I'll go in on the 29th and they'll do a 'balloon', whatever that is, which is supposed to make my cervix dilate, and then on the 30th they'll start Pitocin, assuming my cervix did what it was supposed to.

Now, here's what I'm hoping will actually happen: Wesley will realize that he's got a deadline, and, just like me, will work really well under pressure and finish whatever developing he has to do. Then, whatever happens to start labor will happen and I'll be in labor before the 29th. That would be ideal, but either way, the 29th (or 30th) is D-Day.

The midwife also stripped my membranes this morning, which was far more painful than I expected. She said that it could help to get things going, but of course isn't as effective or reliable as medical induction. I have felt a little crampy since that, but that's normal apparently, and not indicative of anything. It also seems to have disturbed Wesley, he's moving a lot more than normal, but I don't mind.

So...just waiting. Waiting, waiting, waiting...

December 11, 2009


**Though I have tried not to be terribly explicit in this post, please know that is about an adult subject.**

This is a part of pregnancy I did not expect. Perhaps most women don't experience it, or perhaps many do and it's just not talked about because it's a little wierd.

I can't seem to get enough um... well, sex. My hormones are running crazy, and along with the crying over nearly nothing and constant aches, those pesky hormones normally associated with teenagers seem to have found their way back to my bloodstream. And it's seriously annoying.

Michael is not exactly obliging, mostly, I think, because I don't know how to tell him. We have never been terribly talkative about this, and whenever I try I get embarrassed and tongue-tied and I can never quite say what I want to say.

Part of that is because a few times (earlier in the marriage) I tried to be explicit about my needs without being verbal, and it didn't turn out well. Another part of the problem is that every time we try to talk about it and I find that I can't say what I want it just makes it harder for me to try again. I blush a lot. Too much for a married woman talking with her husband. And the final issue, I think, is that while Michael is invariably satisfied, I am not. Ever. At least not with intercourse. Yes, there are other methods and it usually happens one way or another, but I really hate that we have to do that.

And while I'm laying our issues bare, I might as well admit that, for various reasons, it's been a few months since I've been 'satisfied'. Which could explain my current overwhelming needs. The logical part of my mind does not lay the blame all at Michael's door. I know this is an 'us' problem. However, the logical part of my mind is not exactly in control right now, and so that makes me even more reluctant to say something because I'm afraid I'm going to say something I don't really believe, but do feel right now, and end up hurting him.

Because we've never been able to talk coherently about this, I don't know how he feels about me not being satisfied, or if he even notices. I would like to think that he notices, and that he cares to the point that it hurts him and he blames himself and he just doesn't know how to talk about it or what to do about it. If I knew he felt that way, I think I could talk with him about it more easily.

But, I'm afraid that he more feels like it's my problem, something that I need to fix. Again, logically, I know it's more likely that it's somewhere in the middle of those two extremes, but it's extremely frustrating regardless.

And, on any one occassion, I don't really care whether or not I'm satisfied. But all told for the past few months, it bothers me. It actually hurts that he doesn't say anything. I know I should be the one to take responsibility and say something, since it does bother me and I have a right to talk about this with him, but I guess I've read too many romance novels. Even regular fiction novels that are a little explicit generally depict a guy who takes responsibility for the girl's pleasure. And if there is a problem, it's generally the guy who blames himself.

Unrealistic? Yes, I know it is, and that's why the books are fiction. But that doesn't help me any right now. I don't know what would, I don't even know that talking about it would bring any difference, because the few conversations we've attempted in the past have failed so miserably.

My final admission of the day: It's all very depressing. Not just this issue, but all the things I have to deal with. Not having a job, dealing politely with Michael's parents and sister (especially his dad, who is incredibly excited and therefore more annoying than I thought possible), diplomatically rebuffing what I feel are inappropriate inquiries and touching, and living in this small town with no distractions or entertainments are really wearing on me. And I'm terribly afraid of developing post-partum depression. Not the baby blues, I think I could handle that, but real, debilitating depression. My son doesn't deserve that, nor does Michael, and I really don't want to have to deal with it. I've been depressed before, but never to the point that I felt I needed to seek help, even if I probably should have. It always goes away after a while. I'll have to seek help if it happens again, though, because now I have Wesley, and he deserves a mom who is whole and well. Just one more thing I don't want to talk about with Michael.

P.S. I just read the description on my baby bar, and thank God that none of that is true! I am uncomfortable, but I don't have hemorroids or any bathroom issues, and I'm really okay, as long as people don't ask me how I'm doing all the time, because that's just annoying.

December 8, 2009

Happy Birthday Mom!

Today is my mom's birthday, and she is an awesome person. I don't know how much I've talked about her, but I love her like crazy. She is a rock for me, who is too often just in the background of my life. I can talk to her about nearly everything, and I find myself closer and closer to her every year.

She raised my sister, brother, and I basically by herself (even when she was still married). I love the man my dad was when I knew him, but before that he didn't have it all together, and that made life really hard for my mom. She had the three of us to take care of, and she always did, whether she thinks she always did a good job or not.

She never lost sight of what was important (or at least not for long enough for me to notice). She took care of us while teaching us to take care of ourselves, and has now let go as much or as little as each of us needs as we make our way into full adulthood. Most importantly, and the gift I most treasure, she held onto her faith and principles, and passed them on to us.

Happy Birthday, Mom. I love you.

December 7, 2009


Hungry is my most defining personality trait right now. Second place is tied for tired and achy (ache-y? achey? idk). Yay late pregnancy!

Wesley has dropped a little, but as I have no experience with pregnancy, I have no idea if he's dropped as much as he's going to, or if there's more to go. I'm hoping that this is as much as he drops, because I can breath again and I'm running to the bathroom more often than I want.

At my last appointment they said I was negative for group Strep B, which is awesome, because I don't have to worry about antibiotics when I go to the hospital.

We have the nursery almost completely organized, and even if I go into labor today, there's no preparation in there that has to be done. There are certainly things we can do if we have time, but nothing is essential.

And my to do list? It's mostly done. The house is almost completely decorated, the final touches are kind of ancillary so I'm just doing them as I feel like it. The dishes did get done, and I've kept them done. I'm not behind on laundry. As I said the nursery is fairly complete. One of the bathrooms is clean and the other one is nearly so (but we almost never use it, so I'm not as fussed about that).

I can certainly feel that nesting instinct kicking in, though. As I get things done I keep thinking of other things I need to do. The floors haven't been properly scrubbed in awhile, but I'm not going to attempt that since my idea of 'properly scrubbed' is the use of practically boiling water (changed every time it gets dirty) used with floor cleaner and a scrub brush on your hands and knees. I know better than that, but I still want to do it. I'll have to settle for Swiffer.

I'd also like to dust everything, change the sheets on the beds (which I can't do because I can't lift mattresses - especially the king), clean the washer and dryer, use Magic Eraser to clean all the fingerprints off of everything, clean all the windows (pre-requisite for finishing the Christmas Decorations with window clings), and make and freeze about 10-20 more lunches/dinners.

Now, I know I can't get all of that done on my own, and I know I probably won't get all of it done anyway, but it actually feels good to have goals, even if it occasionally feels like I'll never finish. Good practice, right?

December 2, 2009


Today is a cold rainy day. I hate cold rainy days. I don't like rain in general, and now it's cold too. Ick!. I wish that means I could stay in bed all day and read, as I would if I didn't have any obligations. But, I do have obligations, things I need to do.

I still have gifts and hand-me-downs to put away in the nursery, and I'm discovering that I don't have enough room for everything. Some of the bigger clothes are just going to have to go in space bags and be put away until Wesley grows into them. And somehow I ended up with four tote-type bags. Four! One is camoflauge, and so we're going to use that as Michael's diaper bag. But the other three? No idea what I'm going to do with them. I hate tote bags, and they generally don't work as real diaper bags because it's just one big hole (which is why I don't like them to begin with). It's beginning to dawn on me how useless some of the stuff people have given us is.

I also need to do the dishes from dinner last night. I was so tired last night I was dizzy, so they didn't get done. Hopefully I'll manage to get them down before dinner tonight.

On the plus side, I have already been to the grocery store, gotten all of the deals without spending any extra money (for once), and come back home and put everything away. So that's done. But I still have so much more to do. The bathrooms need to be cleaned, and all the floors swept, and the sheets changed, and the nursery still needs to be organized some more, and I need to decorate for Christmas. That's not a long list right?

I'm going to go with 'right!', and try to get at least a quantifiable something done today. At least one of those jobs will be done, no matter how cold and rainy it is!

November 24, 2009


Are all these hormones really necessary? Aren't the backache, heartburn, sleeplessness, constant thirst, overwhelming hunger coupled with a squished stomach and unrealistic cravings, and swelling enough to deal with during pregnancy? Why is it that when I'm trying to prepare for what is likely the biggest challenge of my life I have to be more insanely emotional than I usually am?

Michael can simply ask me how my day went or what I did, and I feel like he's interrogating me. I know he's not; he's just curious, like he's always been. It never really bothered me before. Now it pisses me off.

Then having that reaction makes me sad, so I start to cry. I think things like "A marriage shouldn't be like this" and "why am I so freaking nutty?" My life right now seems to be a study in contradictions.

I've always wished Michael would be a little more independent and need me a little less. I think he's making an effort to do that now, especially since he's not going to have a choice in a few weeks. (A few weeks? EEK!) But now when I see him do something that I would normally have done or he would have asked me to do, it makes me sad. And worse, it makes me feel bad, like I should have thought to do it for him and done it before he did.

I hear all the advice about realizing that you can't be superwoman and do it all by yourself. You can't take care of a husband and a baby and the house and yourself. I've always accepted that. I was never really sure where that help would come from, since my family is four hours away and I'll be on my death bed before I ask his mom for help. But, I figured that Michael and I could handle it together, maybe judiciously asking for help from select family friends while still making it clear that we were handling everything just fine.

But, I can feel that need to be superwoman and supermom coming on. I did not expect that, but I feel like I need to be able to handle everything by myself. I know that I can't, but I want to. I want to prove it to myself and everyone else that I can do this all by myself.

I have never felt that way about anything before, and I don't know what to do about it. How do you ask for help when you don't really trust anyone around you? My mom will be coming up for about a week, but then what? And Michael's cousins (sisters) have decided that they want to come spend some time with us sometime in January, and he doesn't see a problem with it. HELLO?!?! New infant, less than a month old, and they want to come spend the night in a house that already has very little room, and bring a toddler! I reminded the mom of the group that Wesley will certainly not be sleeping through the night at that time, and she responded that she's used to it. I didn't feel I could respond that I wasn't so much worried about her if she's stupid enough to want to come visit so early, but having to deal with her, her sister, her daughter, and an infant who will need to be fed every two to three hours is a little above and beyond the call of duty for me. I'll have to try to figure out how to get that message across.

So, I'm sure all this pressure I'm feeling to get everything right the first time isn't helping my crazy hormonal self, but I really wish the hormones would just go away, or at least back off a little. I've cried more in the last week than in probably the last year. Grrr.

November 20, 2009

Vocabulary and all that other proper English stuff

I freely admit that I am a word freak. When the congressman shouted out "You lie!" at the President and it was called an admonishment, I was very angry. I could care less that he did it, but it was not an admonishment. A scold, maybe, but an admonishment is supposed to be a genteel way of letting someone know you disapprove.

When my husband first mentioned the word 'pummies', I was perplexed. I asked him what a 'pummy' was, and he said the word is 'pummies', there is no 'pummy', and it refers to what's left after sugar cane stalks are ground for the juice. Fair enough, but the word always bothered me, since there really can't be a plural form of a word unless there is a singular form. This year I finally managed to find where the word came from. It's a regionalization of the word 'pomace', which refers to the solid remains from fruit that has been pressed or ground for its juice, mispronounced as 'pummies' and used with incorrect grammar so it seemed to be plural, and now refers solely to the waste from sugar cane in this area. This misuse has been around since the late 1800s, and still isn't in the regular dictionary (thank God). That makes me want to start a movement to strike 'pummies' from the local vocabulary and reinstitute use of 'pomace', but I know I losing battle when I see one.

I have the websites for the Mirriam-Webster and Oxford dictionaries bookmarked. I put the complete Oxford English Dictionary on my Christmas list every year (no luck yet, but it is expensive). I own at least three general dictionaries and two specialized dictionaries (medical and musical). I have been known to end up reading the dictionary after using it to look up one word and either having another word catch my eye or continuing to look up words within the definition of the original or subsequent words. New words bother me. I don't care if they put them in the dictionary, there is rarely a need for a new word. 'Truthiness' for example, is unneccessary. There is nothing wrong with the word 'truthful' or, if you must, 'truthfulness'. Chances are that if a word has been made up or 'coined', there is another word or form of a word that will do just as well and has actually been used for a long time. If 'pummies' isn't in the dictionary after approximately 150 years of use, we can certainly do without 'truthiness', even if it has been made popular by the ignorant.

Words that are not words also bother me. 'w00t' can not be a word because it contains numbers. I honestly don't care if people debase themselves and their language base with such idiocy, or if they use such idiosyncrasies occasionally because it's appropriate in that situation, but do not presume to call it a 'word' in the true sense. Words are composed of letters, and letters only!

So, all of that said, please let it also be implied that 'all that other proper English stuff' refers to grammar, syntax, punctuation and the like. Misuse of the English language in any form bothers me, but if I go into those other areas this post will never end.

My point? Well, I'm not sure I have one, but I was reading an article about the top words of the past few years (as rated by Mirriam-Webster) and words that have been added to the dictionary and it made me mad, so I blogged. :)

November 18, 2009


I'm sick. Only I'm not actually sick, it's 'only' allergies. And, when you're pregnant, there's not much you can take for allergies. What can you take? Benadryl. What does Benadryl do? Put me to sleep. Very few medications actually do, but Benadryl does. So I take Benadryl at night and pretty much just suffer during the day. So, since Saturday I've had a headache. Then on Monday the scratchy throat started. And I haven't had a full night's sleep in over a week, which isn't helping.

The good things? I'm not feeling so horrible that I can't do anything but watch TV. If I had a job, I'd still be going to work. I've been able to keep up with the few things I have to do, both for the DOL so I can continue to receive my unemployment and around the house so it stays relatively clean.

Also good: I can't seem to focus on my medical transcription course or on the home transcription work I was doing, so I'm getting caught up on my cross stitch. I finished a birth sampler for Wesley, and I'm currently working on a baby blanket for him. After that will be the three lab pups I have started for Michael but I had to put down for awhile because of the detail, and then the Mickey and Firefighter piece I was working on.

Have I mentioned that Michael is a volunteer firefighter? Part of the reason I can't get a full night's sleep. His pager and radio can't be set for just his department, so we get all of the fire and EMS calls for the entire county. ALL NIGHT LONG. We will have to come up with a solution before the baby is born, because I have a feeling that my child will sleep little enough without being woken in the middle of the night by an EMS call for some idiot who thinks stubbing his toe means he needs to call 911 for a broken foot. I'm not kidding, it's happened here, and he was later overheard telling someone he called so he could get a ride to Thomasville in the ambulance. He didn't have any other way to get there, you understand.

There was a point to this post, but I've forgotten it, so we'll leave it with I'm sick and pregnant and sleepy and feel sorry for me! Thanks!

November 11, 2009

Veteran's Day

My grandfather, father, father-in-law, and at least four of my uncles were in the military. My grandfather survived D-Day. My father, father-in-law, and uncles were in Vietnam. Once my father spoke to me about his pre-deployment training. That was the only time I ever heard from any of them about their experiences in the military.

But, when I stayed with my dad or uncles, I heard their occasional nightmares. I saw the haunted look in my father's eyes when I went to check on him the first time. I saw how sorry he was that he disturbed me. HE was sorry. I understood, but it made me sad, because he shouldn't have been sorry, but it was the way he was raised. My grandfather drank to deal with the memories, my dad, being a clean alcoholic, wouldn't. Nor did he smoke or turn into a bitter old man. He simply kept it to himself, the way he was taught a man should. I'm glad we're moving away from that.

The look was completely gone the next morning, and we never mentioned it. I never woke him again, unless I could manage it by making a loud noise or some other contrivance, rather than physically waking him up. I knew he would rather deal with the nightmares than know that I had heard him again.

I am proud of my family members who have served. I am proud of all who have served. Thank you. Thank you for your physical service, your emotional and mental trials and tribulations. Thank you for everything your family has been through. For the milestones you didn't deserve to miss, for the pain you didn't deserve to go through, and for the day-to-day joys you should have been able to be there for, thank you.

November 10, 2009


I have a very wiggly child. The doctor has me counting his movements after dinner. I'm supposed to feel ten movements in less than one hour. It usually takes about five minutes. When I took the chart to my last appointment, she asked me if I was sure I had the times recorded correctly. Then she referred to the ultrasound to be sure that I'm not having twins.

I'm not, which is good because the twin would have just appeared from nowhere and that would have been very strange. Still, he's very wiggly. I'm not sure he ever stops moving, though the pregnancy books all assure me that he has developed a sleep pattern. It is rather fun to watch my abdomen move, though. Sometimes I'm lopsided because of the way he's sitting. Or I'll be laying down and Harley will be curled up against me, and when Wesley moves Harley sits up and looks around like 'Who did that? I don't think there should be that kind of movement there...' It's very cute.

Occasionally, he does something that hurts, and that's not so fun, but I suppose it's all part of the 'joy of pregnancy'. The headache, backache, swelling, having to eat when you're not hungry, fatigue, and people asking constantly how the baby is. Seriously, people, he fine! He's where he's supposed to be, and while I'm not a doctor, I'm sure that's about all that's required for most babies to be fine before they're born. Even if something was wrong, I probably wouldn't be the one to tell you, and I certainly wouldn't be out and about so I could tell you. I would be at home or in the hospital, probably resting or possibly on bed rest, doing everything I could to make sure everything turns out ok. And if you're just trying to figure out how I'm doing by asking about my child, you can stop that right now, because it's not going to work. If I'm not doing well and you have to ask to find out, then you're not one of those people I would tell. I'm either forthcoming, without you having to ask, or you don't get to be one of those people I tell when I'm feeling like crap.

Anywho...I have a very wiggly child, and right now, it's very cute. Here's hoping that when he has more room to move, he decides it's just not worth it while I'm trying to change a diaper or clothing or hold him still for any multitude of reasons...I can dream, right?

November 3, 2009

How do adults make friends?

I love having all of my bloggy friends and connecting with other people like this. If I'm following your blog, you can be sure that I read it and laugh or cry with you as appropriate, even if I don't comment. I love that I have built-in advice and life stories from other women and mothers to rely on, especially in this form, because I can take your advice or decide to do something different without having to voice all the usual platitudes and worry about how it will affect our relationship. We only know each other over the internet and if either one of us offends the other, it's pretty easy to deal with, move on, forget, or whatever.

That said, I would like to have some real life friends too. My husband has more female friends in this area than I do. And he only has two! He occasionally talks with them online, and sometimes we go out as a group. However, I haven't found much in common with either of these ladies, and they're not the type of people I would seek out as my friends, especially since neither is married or has children and that's where I am in my life right now. I have the same problem with most of the friends I still have from high school. One or two of them are married and either have kids or are having kids, but I wasn't really close to them in high school and we're more Facebook friends than anything. I might make an effort if they lived here, but they don't.

So what do I do? How do adults go about making friends? We have childbirth class tonight, and I have a vague hope of meeting a couple there who is having their first child. Even if I do, though, I would have a clue what to do next. I saw my friends in high school and college during class or church. We rarely got together outside of that. If we did, it was generally because the other person suggested the plans and I only had to agree. I am essentially a loner, which is why blogging is such a great medium for me. But I feel like I need one or two good real life friends. I mean, doesn't everybody?

And if I were in a bigger city, I think I could find friends more easily. Every other person wouldn't have some connection to my husband's family, and every third or fourth girl wouldn't have dated, slept with, or know someone who has dated or slept with my husband. Okay, that's probably an exaggeration, but it's really annoying to feel like you're clicking with someone and you could possibly have a friendship and then you find out that her best friend in high school was the first person your husband slept with and she knows more about that experience because she was told all about it almost immediately and your husband "doesn't remember" (yeah right).

Yes, that really happened, but anyway, it's really frustrating to live in such a small community and have married into one of the more prominent families in the area. I even went to a few Council of Catholic Women meetings to try to find some friends, but everyone was older than me by at least 10 years, and half of them had some connection to the family. And the family isn't even Catholic! Grrr.

There are no bookclubs, there is no community orchestra or band, and I have no idea how to meet people. I met Michael online. I managed to meet one friend while I was in college, even though I had three roommates, took about fifteen classes in that time, and participated in the community orchestra and church youth group. I'm bad at meeting people and making friends.

I guess this is coming up right now because I could really use a supportive circle of friends right now. And I would love it if they were friends that were in the same stage of life as I am and don't know my in-laws or husband or husband's friends so that I can freely speak my mind without worrying about it getting back to them. But those kinds of friendships don't happen overnight, and I need some girlfriends now. Heh...sigh...

October 27, 2009


The thoughts for which I cannot come up with a full post:

I found out today that anesthesiologists are a humorless lot, at least when they're doing an anesthesia consult for the hospital here. Maybe it's because people always fall asleep when they're around. Not a whole lot of need for good bed side manner there.

I have a baby shower coming up this Saturday, yes, on Halloween. I'm very excited, and the theme is Pirates and Princesses. The best part? My eighth grade dance dress still fits, and it's kind of medieval-princessy so I don't have to buy a costume. :)

I know I'm seven months pregnant and am just starting to show, but I'm really sick of complete strangers asking me if I'm sure of my due date. Yes, I'm sure my due date is Christmas Eve, even if I only appear to be five months pregnant to your uneductated eye. Oh, you're not a doctor? I'm shocked!

While I'm sure my due date is Christmas Eve, I'm also fairly sure my son will come late just like every other child in my family has come late for the past two generations, so stop asking me how I'm going to handle his birthday! I will handle it in a way that he doesn't feel cheated, and it's none of your business.

I realized today that because my child is due on Christmas Eve, Advent will have a special meaning to me this year. I just hope I'm not so uncomfortable that I can't appreciate it.

The cold weather needs to make up its mind to stay here. I'm really tired of having to use the heater at night for a couple days and then the air conditioning for the next couple of days.

We got a new couch and I love it! It was desperately needed and helps my sciatica a lot, but my feet don't touch the floor when I sit on it. I'm short.

Is anyone really surprised that Baby Einstein videos don't actually make for smarter children? When was the last time you learned something watching repetetive sock puppet skits? Still, I wish I had some to return because I could use a couple extra bucks.

October 22, 2009

So frustrated!

I didn't get that job. And not having a job is beginning to wear on me. I am doing some home transcription work, but I'm earning a pittance (around $6/hr) and there are certainly no benefits, other than gaining experience and I don't know how valuable that's really going to be.

I feel like I'm stuck in limbo. I'm not really a SAHM because I'm searching for a job and I am doing that transcription work, but I'm also not really working because I don't have a steady job (the transcription work is an independent contractor position). It makes for a very confusing day in which I feel like I get nothing done.

I can see that the laundry is done, the floors are swept, the dishes washed, the bathrooms clean and the house generally cleaner and more organized than ever. I get transcription assignments done and track the money I'm earning, little though it is. I'm doing a home medical transcription course and I see myself completing the chapters and sending the work in. And yet I feel as though nothing ever gets done, and I have no idea why.

So what do I do? I have no idea. I think part of my problem right now is that I was riding a high after that job interview and came crashing down when I heard the words, "I'm sorry, but we selected another applicant who had experience in a medical office." I just don't see myself finding another job opportunity like that, perhaps because I've been looking for three months and that was the first one I found that I was really excited about.

Still, in the end I know I have to have faith that this is part of God's plan for me, and that it will all turn out right. What doesn't kill you (or your spirit), makes you stronger, right?

October 13, 2009

I'm back

I was trying to think of a snappy title for this post since it's my first in months, but I couldn't. Oh well.

So, to catch up: I lost my job to the boss' daughter-in-law in July. All of us were getting tired of seeing her get paid just to watch her own child, but perhaps I was simply too outspoken or overheard by the wrong person. The great thing? I've been less stressed looking for a job than I was trying to do that job and ignore all of the gray-area business practices that were going on. Like buying clothes for the DIL and granddaughter on the company credit card. And 'business' lunches with extended family. And gasoline for a Dodge Durango for 'business' trips. Okay, so maybe it wasn't so gray-area, but according to the boss it was her money anyway and she should be able to spend it any way she wanted, regardless of the things the business needed to stay competitive and allow employees to do their jobs correctly and lawfully.

Rant over. I really am glad to be gone from there, even if it does put us in a little bit of a tight spot financially. I've had a few interviews for other jobs, but nothing so appealing as the job I interviewed for on Friday. It's a receptionist position at a local family medical practice, and it would be so awesome if I got the job. Unfortunately, I'm up against at least ten other people. That makes it pretty likely that someone else will be just as qualified as I am, despite my being really qualified, and that person probably isn't pregnant. But I've been praying and hoping and I should hear something by the end of the week. If I don't, I'm actually going to follow up with this one just to be sure. I absolutely hate calling people for any reason, so that should tell you how badly I want this job. My main task would be to answer the phone (at 300+ calls per day), take messages which note symptoms and such, put the message in the patient file, and notify the appropriate doctor or nurse. The benefits to dealing with those patients? Working in a team environment without having every task be completed as a team, a matching 401k, free medical insurance (for me) and physician services (for me and my household), access to prescription samples, 18 paid days off per year to start, 6 other paid holidays, quarterly profit-sharing bonuses (which have been as little as $50 and as much as $1000), and $250/year for scrubs and shoes, all at a respectable rate of pay that is way more in line with the job description than I was ever paid at my previous job. A clear job description and excellent benefits and pay. It really sounds like heaven to me.

Speaking of heaven, my little gift from heaven is coming right along. We found out it's a boy (and there is absolutely no doubt) and we are naming him Wesley Joshua. The due date is Christmas Eve, and I'm hoping that he comes a little late because I really don't want to be in the hospital on Christmas. It's a little evil and wrong, but I also hope he comes late because this year is the year we are spending Christmas with Michael's family and I'd rather his first Christmas be with my family. Especially since we live here and Michael's family will see him and interact with him so much more. If it was something I had any control over I would really struggle with those feelings, but since I don't have any control I don't feel too horrible.

Anyway, along with baby come things like the nursery. Here are some pictures, I'll post more when we have some more things done.

So those are the major things that have happened since I last posted. I will certainly try to post more often, especially since I have all this time on my hands right now, but I also miss doing this. Wish me luck!

June 1, 2009

Gucci Bag or Tie, Anyone?

Thank you to everyone who headed over here from other blogs in response to my comment, and special thanks to those who didn't remove my totally selfish comment (which you had every right to do), and allowed me to use their blogs in a totally selfish way.

So, on to the contest. Mama Still Wears Gucci is hosting an awesome contest for her birthday where you could win a Gucci bag or tie. The thing is, she's going to make you work for it. The contest is open until midnight on June 7, and will run until December 7, which is her son's birthday. The contest will be based on percentage of weight loss, and is open to men and women. The men may choose the tie, or give the bag to someone special. At the conclusion of the contest, Gucci Mama will post the winner along with before and after pics of all the participants.

I know there's nothing in there about having to create a blog post of your own referring people to the contest, but I am pregnant, and so I can't enter. I consoled myself with the comforting thought that I won't have my before and after pics on the web, and I'd have all these inspiring stories of weight loss to turn to after my child is born. Gucci Mama, however, showing an infinite kindness, has offered an alternative to her pregnant readers: recruit people for the contest, and whoever recruits the most people will win an alternative prize. Well, what can I say? I love to compete, and I LOVE to win. So, please, go to Gucci Mama's blog post about the contest, sign up, and tell her I sent you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!

April 30, 2009

My Eggo is Preggo

I wanted to set that as my facebook status, but Michael made a face, so I decided to use it here instead.

Yep, I'm pregnant! And right now, as you'll see to the right, my baby looks like a reptile. But that's ok, I know eventually the tadpoleishness will fade and it will be clear that the father of my child is indeed human. Assuming that my husband is human...hmmm...I hadn't thought about that before.

But, anyway. This is a little earlier than we had planned, but, surprise! God doesn't always think our plans are the best thing for us, and so here we are. Yay!

I will keep everyone updated, for now I'm going to be a responsible (eek!) mother and go get some sleep.

April 22, 2009

Just In Case... happen to be giving directions to someone, please keep in mind that you are probably giving that someone directions because he or she isn't familiar with that part of town. And, in that case, you should probably mention any odd-looking intersection that aren't pretty close to the standard + shape. For example, if there is an intersection which happens to be of a shape where the road into the intersection leads the driver into the right hand turn lane, and the straight/left-turn lane doesn't really seem to lead to a 'straight' option (unless you count a dirt road, which might be a driveway), but rather only a left-turn option is clear. So the driver turns right. Should the driver then call you because the driver finds him- or herself in the middle of nowhere with no helpful street signs or 'civilization: 2 miles' type signs and in a slight panic because he or she has only twenty minutes to get back to work, your response should not be "I have no idea, have you thought about turning around?". Because, truly, if you feel comfortable enough to give someone directions (after taking away their GPS system...hypothetically, of course), you ought to know everything that person might encounter. If he or she reached a traffic light and turned right, after going straight through the first traffic light, you ought to know where he or she is. You certainly shouldn't have to suggest that the driver retrace his or her steps as your first suggestion. But, say the driver does, and the driver manages to find the way back to the traffic light in question and describes it for you, again, and asks you to turn left or right, you should again be able to give a concrete answer. You should not say "I really don't have any idea where you are." This may cause the driver to become infuriated and hang up on you, causing the driver to have to fend for him- or herself in an unfamiliar part of town. You should be paying enough attention, and have been familiar enough with the route you gave the driver to know where he or she is. Really, you should. It's only nice. And, certainly, when the driver does manage to find his or her own way after ignoring your phone calls (you've already been no help, why would you be able to help now?), and then does take pity on you and answer the phone, you shouldn't demand an explanation of how the driver found his or her way. If the driver should happen to humor you, I really, truly, and with everything I have, advise against saying "Oohhh! Now I know where you were! Well, I could have told you an easier way to get back, but that works. I wish you'd been more clear." Because that might really piss the driver off.

*Disclaimer: This is a hypothetical situation. Any resemblance it has to an actual event is not accidental. Though it may seem to be loosely based an an incident that may or may not have happened on my lunch hour today due to certain instructions given to me by my husband, I can assure you that it is purely a situation of my own imagination. Thank you.

April 21, 2009

All I Want To Do is Read

I'm obsessed with books. If you saw Inkheart, I'm the crazy, cowardly aunt with the huge library (or I'd like to have a library that huge). Belle is my favorite Disney princess because of that gigantic library she has. There is no such thing as 'enough' books. I imagine that if I managed to read every book ever written in or translated into the English language I would have to learn another language (Italian, most likely) just so I could keep reading. If you read my previous post, you know I was reading the Twilight series. I finished it in four days. Yes, really. Four books, four days. And I still went to work. I didn't sleep very much.

I don't go into book stores unless I've just read some very good books, because I don't trust myself to go in starving. I've drained my bank account more than once doing that. Even when I'm not starving I really can't go in very often because I don't trust myself to browse. I have to go in with a specific goal. Mostly I shop online because I can just look up the book I want without catching sight of others that look good as well. It's not as fun, but it's safer and cheaper as well.

So, you would think that a career having something to do with books would be a good pick for me. I thought so too. An editor, for instance, would be a fantastic job for me, but I imagine I'm not the only bibliophile out there who enjoys reading not only the finished product on the shelves with a red pen in hand but also any rough copy I can get my hands on. I've stopped reading my finished books with a real red pen actually in my hand - they get rather messy - but if I get my hands on an advance copy or a manuscript (say, online, after a book has been published) it's so much fun for me to see what I would have changed compared to what was changed. So, I've been doing some research, and it turns out that the best place to become an editor (after obtaining a college degree in English) is New York. Damn. I know I'm not the only red-pen-armed bibliophile there, and I'm not actually even there, nor will I ever really be there for long enough to start a career and become established enough to work away from there. Damn, damn, damn.

Okay, next plan. Something, perhaps, attainable in this small little 'town' where I live? English teacher? Hmm...that has possibilities. I've always loved English. I'd teach high school, of course. I have a hard enough time dealing with adults and those who are almost adults, I couldn't imagine middle school, or *shudder* having to teach every subject including Math in Elementary School. Nothing too terrible about this career path, except perhaps the pay and extra hours outside of school, but I could get over that. Of course, the students could be a problem for me. I hated the students in my high school classes who made fun of Shakespeare and couldn't appreciate the beauty of classic literature. Would I feel the same hatred? Would I be able to get past it? Would I be able to let it go and not judge them on it? If they obviously hated the material but wrote good papers would I be able to grade them fairly? Well, yes, if the papers were good. But what if they were only mediocre? Would I grade them worse because I felt they hadn't even tried because they hated the book or play? I honestly don't know. And, I'm afraid it would ruin it for me if I didn't have at least one student like me in every class.

And, in the end, all I want to do is read. Yep, read. I don't want to analyze or find the themes or write up tests or any of that nonsense. I just want to read and enjoy books without knowing why. But, after all those years of having all of that 'nonsense' pounded into my head, I can't help it. I see foreshadowing and themes and everything else that is written into good books (which I can't write myself, incidently) without even trying. I wonder what all of it means. What should I be doing?

April 14, 2009

Why Couldn't I Have Fallen in Love with a Vampire?

I'm reading Twilight. Well, actually, I started reading Twilight yesterday and I finished it (including the preview of the next book) this morning. I have the rest of the series on the way (thanks to Amazon). I should have known better and either a) never started reading it, or b) bought all the books at once.
I'm incredibly impatient when it comes to reading series books. I bought two other books yesterday (also part of a series), along with Twilight, but Wal-mart didn't have the other books in the Twilight series, or even the third book and fourth book of the other series I bought. And I know better than to start a series without having all the books available to me if they are published. But I couldn't resist, something about a good vampire is just so attractive.

And now, I find myself insanely jealous of Bella. I know it's not real. I know that vampires aren't supposed to exist. I know that even if vampires did exist it would be very unlikely that I, with my luck, would find the 'good' ones. And yet I am so jealous! Every day of my life I have waited for something unusual, out of the ordinary, and even supernatural to happen. Visions brush the edge of my dreams, I recognize them later but never understand them when I dream them. Sometimes something happens to make the dream take on new meaning, as if I'm seeing it clearly for the first time, and then I understand. I've had these dreams for as long as I can remember, and they don't scare me like they used to, but it's the closest I've ever gotten to something fantastical happening to me. I read stories of the supernatural and the other-wordly greedily, hungrily, as if I can pick something up about how to run into this world we cannot see. As I was reading the Harry Potter series I waited anxiously for my letter to arrive on my 11th birthday, even though I knew it was silly and wouldn't happen. When it didn't, I waited for my 16th birthday, to wake up levitating ala Sabrina the Teenage Witch. When that didn't happen, I waited for my first love to tell me he was really not human, something else (vampire didn't cross my mind, but angel, or demon-turned-good-by-the-sight-of-me, or something like that was the idea), and he had a mission here on earth and then he would have to leave forever...except, of course, that he wouldn't, because he loved me too, and he couldn't. That didn't happen either, of course, he really just didn't like me like that.

These thoughts/dreams/hopes have continued through my life. I see a story and whether or not I'm the correct age and in the correct social position of the heroine, I hope that it will happen to me, even if just the for time I'm absorbing the story. Over time my enthusiasm and expectation have diminished of course, but I don't think it'll ever go away, this wish to be something more than who I am.

It doesn't help that I can't seem to be content with my life the way it is, of course. I'm not one of those people who blithely say they would do it all over again the same way. I wouldn't, if given the chance. I know I still wouldn't be able to control the future, especially if I couldn't retain my memories, or could only change one decision. I might even end up in the same situation I am in, just with different people playing the roles.

I think what really makes me envy these characters and their lives is how blissfully happy they seem. Even when there is trouble, angst, danger, what have you, there is something about their life they love. There is something they chose that put them in all of those terrible situations, and they are so happy with that choice that they wouldn't change a thing. What a joy it must be to have a life like that. To be absolutely sure you are on the right path for you, to be sure you are where you want to be. Even if they doubt it, even if they wonder, eventually they realize they made the right choice, because, on some level, they've known it all along. Will I eventually realize that I did the right thing? That everything is going to be okay because I'm where I'm supposed to be? Or will I always live wishing, hoping, praying, that something will happen to drastically change my life, so that I can finally be happy?

April 13, 2009


Lent is a fairly depressing time for me. I choose to let it be that way, but I cannot ignore the traditions I have been raised with. I could ignore the fact that this is the time we reflect on our sins, for which Christ, sinless, was hung on a cross, and hung there in agony for three hours. This is the time we reflect on how all that we have done and do and will do brought him to Jerusalem for the Last Supper, and into the Garden of Gethsemane where Satan tempted Him to lay down His cross and be done with it, with us. God couldn't have faulted Him, as He was and is God, and was and is sinless. But Jesus did not abandon us, He did not walk away, as He had every right to. Instead, He carried His cross, walked the path to Golgotha, and hung on the cross to cry "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabacthani?" ("My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?") These words echo through my mind all through Lent. It becomes my cry, my agony. On Palm Sunday, Catholics around the world recite the Lord's Passion. The congregation says certain parts aloud, while the narration, the part of Christ, and the part of other individual speakers are read by the priest and lectors. It is a powerful experience for me. If you are a Christian and have never come to a Palm Sunday Mass (whether or not you are Catholic) I would suggest you go. Watching the Passion (Mel Gibson's movie) was a powerful experience to be sure, but to place yourself in the shoes of and to be the voice of the people who shouted "Crucify Him! Crucify Him!" is to understand that none of us are above reproach. It gives new meaning to understanding that we are all sinners. It's humbling to realize that the sins in our life led Christ to the cross just as surely as those people and the chief priests and scribes who stirred the crowd to hatred of Him. When you realize that Christ not only died for your sins, but that He died BECAUSE of your sins, and went to Calvary literally carrying the weight of every sin ever committed since the beginning of time and every sin ever to be committed until the end of time, it is the most humbling experience you will likely ever have. It has brought me to bitter tears more than once.

That being said, I can usually shake off the depression of Lent for the joy of Easter. When I hear "Allelujah! Allelujah! He is RISEN TODAY!" My heart swells, tears of joy fill my eyes. I remember that my Lord is with me always, He knows I am sorry for my sins, and He forgives me for everything. I feel light and free; gone is the weight of what I have done, replaced with an unrelenting grace and joy that can only be from God.

That didn't happen this year. I wonder if it is because I have stepped away from God's path for my life, or if it is because I have stepped away from Him without realizing it. Easy and gentle are the first steps of path that leads away from God's love and grace, and we often don't realize that we are on that path until we find ourselves completely lost and without direction and crying "Eloi, ELOI! Lama sabacthani?" I still pray and meditate on the glories of God, and I know He is there, but I feel as though I've done something that has seperated me from Him. Those fateful words still echo through my mind, and Easter did not hold the joy it should have. As I think back, Easter has not held that joy for a few years, and I wonder how long I have been off the path of goodness and righteousness. My heart and soul are parched and long for the river of God's grace, but my feet cannot seem to find the way. Where did I stop following God's Will for my life? When did I look down and despair of my dirty feet on the narrow path, and see an easier way I thought would be better? When did I stop trusting in the Lord for fear of myself? I still recognize the Spirit within me, for I still praise God and see His miracles and graces. Many people don't realize that you needn't follow Satan to stop following the Lord. There are many paths, but only one leads to God. I know that God is still with me, but I fear that I am not with Him.

Please, Lord, I am a lost sheep and need You to come find me, for I haven't the strength to return to You. I am desperate for You, Lord. I try to run to You and find that I have only the strength to crawl. I no longer understand the path you have set for me, and I do not see Your Will. Lead me to where You want me, Lord. Make me Yours again, and show me Your Will. Only You are worthy, only You deserve my praise, my heart, and my life. Open my eyes, Lord, that I may see the way back to You. Open my ears, that I may hear Your sweet voice. Open my heart, that I may know You again. Please, Lord, I need You.

April 6, 2009

Swap Hop!

Yay, a bloggy swap!

Country Girl, City Life (the exact opposite of my situation, by the by) is hosting a Favorite Things Swap. If you'd like to participate, head over there now and sign up, then prepare to send out your favorite things!

March 30, 2009

Why Can't They?

I've been frustrated by a number of small things lately, as follows:

Why can't they make 'shoe liners' such as those worn with high heels that actually don't show, instead of only claiming to not show?

Why can't they switch me from 5 8-hour days to 4 10-hour days, so I can have more personal time?

Further, why can't I just work my 40 hours when I want to, instead of having to conform to any particular schedule?

Why can't they make the glue come off with the calendar page in tear-away desk calendars, so you aren't left with overhanging glue, which, when torn off, does not leave a clean line?

Why can't people just be nice, even online? Anonymity is not an excuse or incentive for vile behavior.

Why can't they make a flat-iron that actually straightens my hair?

Why can't people understand that stay-at-home moms are doing a job?

Why can't people accept that 'gender-specific' roles are always going to exist? "God created them, male and female He made them....And He said 'It is good.'"

Why can't they create a houseplant that is easy to take care of?

And while we're at it: Why can't they make world peace happen?

March 24, 2009


I am so proud of myself. I'm back on my diet. :) It's been rough going the past couple of months, but I'm determined to beat my emotional eating and learn to deal with enjoy exercising. I know I need to do this for myself, and it's getting easier and easier to read my emotional triggers for what they are.

A big part of this for me will be learning to not stress over things I have no control over, like the number of hours in the day. I also need to recognize those situations I stress about that should actually be a comfort and a release from stress, like spending time with Michael. I think I'm beginning to see myself more clearly than I have in the past, and I'm trying to shift from excuses and blame to truth and support.

When they say losing weight is a life-style change, they aren't kidding, but it's not just about the food you eat and your activity level. If you're an emotional eater, have been overweight for your whole life or a long time, or have a low level of self-esteem, it's an outlook and attitude change as well. You might be able to lose some weight for other people, or so you can look great at this wedding or that social event, but eventually you will stop losing weight because you're not doing it just for yourself. And that doesn't mean beating yourself up about it because you know you're unhealthy or look fat. It means that you have to recognize that you are worth all the time you spend measuring ingredients or portion sizes, fitting exercise into your day, and buying the healthy foods you need and the new clothes you have to buy when you lose weight. Very simply, you are worth it! That is where I have been struggling. I don't think anyone specifically thinks the words "I'm not worthy of this" or "I don't deserve this", but when we try to lose weight or change our lives for anyone or anything but ourselves, we are putting ourselves in last place. For some things, that's exactly where we need to be: humility and servitude help us carry out God's will, and without them we would never have peace in anything. When it comes to doing something that requires a life change, however, we must learn to put ourselves first in that thing. We can recognize the benefits to everyone else, but we must understand that the primary beneficiary is 'you', the person doing the changing. And you must be okay with that. If you are not, if your main reason for making a change in your life is someone or something else, then it will not stick.

So, my reason for doing all of this is me. And I know I will continue to struggle with that. If I didn't, I would fear for my soul. But I know I have to do this, because I need it for my life. Like any wife or mother, I must learn to recognize that crucial point where the benefits of putting yourself last no longer outweight the benefits doing something for yourself, and the benefits of doing something for myself, in fact, reach far beyond me and impact everyone around me in a positive way. It's a tightrope I've heard many women talk about, I just never expected it could be so difficult.

March 10, 2009

Our First Anniversary

On Sunday, I recalled how one year ago, Michael and I said our vows, promising ourselves to the other forever, come what may. We walked down the aisle, arm in arm, smiling, with our family and friends around us, and the day seemed so wonderful. Our reception, our first dance, everything was like a fairy tale. Then it came time for our cake, which ended up in my face, courtesy of my new husband. Everything wasn't so perfect anymore.

I feel like marriage itself is very much like that. Everything is going along just peachy, and then something happens and before you know it you're hurt and angry and wondering why in the world you let this person into your life.

Over the past year, Michael and I have discussed our hopes and dreams for our future, ending the marriage, having kids, building a house, and how much we hate each other sometimes. We've had some definite low points, but I knew we could get through it, if only we tried hard enough. This past year has meant a lot to me, because I feel like every year we're together it cements the relationship, and now we've made it through a year of marriage. That's something to celebrate.

Celebrate we did. We went to Gatlinburg, TN, and Helen, GA. It was just a short weekend trip, but I thought it would be fun. We hadn't gone anywhere since the honeymoon, and we both needed a vacation, even if it was just a little one. Once again, everything was wonderful.

He wanted his gift on Friday night, and I didn't see the harm. So I gave it to him, and he said "Only a card?" But I just nodded and said "Yep, just what's in the envelope." So he opened it, read the card and what I wrote, said thank you, and was just about to close it when he noticed what was stuck to the last part of the card. Tickets. To Talladega Superspeedway for the Aaron's 499. I thought he would be so excited and happy, because he's never been to Talladega, and they are good seasts, but he just looked at them and said "Oh, that's nice, thank you." So we talked about the tickets for awhile, decided that I wouldn't go because my nephew is due around that time and I want to go to see him. We talked about some other things, and then he gave me my gift.

"Well, I didn't get you anything, so you can just pick you out something, ok?" Yep, that's what I got for my anniversary...just a whole bunch of cake in my face. Now, I'm doing The Love Dare from the movie "Fireproof", and that day's dare was to react to difficult situations calmly and lovingly, so that's what I felt I had to do. I had also suspected that he didn't get me anything, because I helped him pack both his suitcase and the car, and there was nothing there, and he's not good at hiding things, so I wasn't totally blind-sighted. If I had been I doubt I could have just said 'ok' and left it at that.

Last night, however, I was on a different dare and I mentioned it again, but I did it calmly. And he said 'oh, I'll get you something.' I felt so loved.

So, here's my question: should I leave it like it is, because I know anything I buy is going to be too expensive from his perspective, and not what I wanted anyway because what I wanted was his consideration. Or, should I buy something, regardless of the expense (as long as we can afford it), to try to make him understand where I'm coming from?

March 4, 2009

Friends at Work

I have come to the conclusion that making friends at work, and especially trying to be friendly with your supervisors, is a huge mistake. I have attempted to be an easy-going, 'real' person who can be and is very professional at the times I need to be. Apparently this isn't what my supervisors are looking for, despite the 'family atmosphere' they try to achieve and maintain, and tout so much. I just received an email from my immediate supervisor regarding, among other things, my attitude. Apparently I can't tell when I'm supposed to switch from person mode to professional robot mode, or when I'm supposed to be which for which supervisor, or how to tailor my comments to their individual personalities, moods and daily issues. So, I'm not going to try anymore. I'll just be the professional robot at all times, lick their boots like a good little slave, and try not to think about work AT ALL the rest of the time (despite the fact that many of the things they praise me for are things I think about while I'm away from the office). If that's what they want, that's what they'll get, but I hope they realize that all of my company loyalty is now gone, because I think there are some places I could work and be myself without having to worry about offending one of my supervisors just because I have a better idea, or one that would work as well but is easier to implement; I also imagine that I might receive pay more appropriate to the work I do. As soon as I get a job opportunity at one, I'm gone.

March 3, 2009

Why are men so dense?

My darling husband can be a complete idiot at times. This can come in the form of questions that answer themselves, statements that shouldn't be stated, ideas that should never leave his mind and questions like this gem he came up with this morning:

"So, do we get each other gifts for our anniversary, or what? I mean, I wouldn't know what to do."

Our anniversary is in 5 days. I have already gotten him a gift, thought about the presentation, what we're going to do on Sunday, and how and when to plan for the use of the gift (NASCAR tickets for Talladega). Now, 5 days before, he wants to know if we are supposed to get each other gifts. Why is it that he can't think ahead? I've already thought about gifts for his birthday, Christmas, next Valentine's Day, and our next anniversary. I haven't gone so far as to purchase anything, but I've thought about what I might get him. He has known from the day we set our wedding date about 2 years ago, that we would have our first anniversary on March 8, 2009. He should also realize that our second anniversary will be March 8, 2010. See how that works? It's the same date every year: March 8. It comes a little less than a month after Valentine's Day, so that would be a good time to start thinking about what to buy, or to agree to make each other something, or to just take a weekend away, or not buy each other anything but just spend time together. Not my husband though, he wants to be able to cobble something together less than a week ahead of time.

He also wants to go away this weekend. I could have watched for good hotel deals, etc, but now I'm stuck with what I can put together in this short amount of time. And I'll have to figure it out, because I've asked him several times since he mentioned going away this weekend where he wants to go, and he doesn't know. That's all he'll say. With other guys, that might indicate that he had all the plans already made, and he was just trying to give me fair warning so I'd have time to pack, etc. But I know Michael better than that. If he had something planned, he wouldn't be able to keep it secret. And, honestly, I know why he wants to go away this weekend: his niece is having a birthday party and he doesn't want to go. I understand that, she's going to be 4, and being around a bunch of 4-year-olds with adults who act about that age is not my idea of a good time. But still, we need to know where we're going so we can make hotel reservations.

And, finally, he wants to know what he should get me. Again. Everytime a gift-giving holiday or occasion comes up, he wants to know what he should get me. I spend hours thinking about what to get him, finding the best deal (he appreciates that) and making sure it's something he'll love. I don't always hit the mark, but I spend a lot of time trying. He just wants a list, and then he'll go out and buy something from the list. What's more, he wants a long list, so he has a lot to choose from and I won't know what I'm getting. And to add insult to injury, he won't make me a list. No matter how much I ask, he will not write down what he wants. I get one of two answers (and most often it's the first): "I don't know what I want" or "[Insert requested items]" and I have to write them down. Then, it comes to giving the gift, and I've chosen something on his list, but it turns out he doesn't want that anymore. He doesn't get mad, and he appreciates it, but you can see that it was something he changed his mind about, or he didn't realize exactly what he was asking for, or he wasn't explicit enough in his description of the item, so what I got him isn't really what he wanted.

Now, this isn't all bad. I do usually end up getting what I wanted, and Michael has excellent taste in fine jewelry. The problem here isn't the things I do or don't get. My problem with all of this is that he doesn't think about [what to get] me. I could deal with bad gifts and horrible presentation, if he would just put some thought into it. I think I would actually appreciate that more, because I would know that at some point in his day, he took time to think about me and only me, and what I would like to have that I would never buy for myself. When they say it's the thought that counts, they really mean it. He could get me a coffee mug and I would appreciate it deeply if I knew it was because he heard me say that I hate my current one and he found out why and bought me something better. All I want is a little thought, even if it is just for gift-giving, and never any other time.

February 12, 2009


I'm a crier. And it sucks. I just had to sit through a ... conference, I guess, would be the word, with my bosses and pretend that I wasn't crying because I didn't want to be and by all rights, I shouldn't have been.

This 'conference' was about my answer to a question my boss asked me yesterday. Well, I thought he was asking me, apparently he was asking anyone in earshot who might know something about the situation. One of our clients wanted something corrected, and it was something I didn't know anything about. When he asked what was going on, I apparently said something that was too loud, was in a negative tone and was 'counterproductive'. Since he apparently wasn't asking me (though I'm fairly sure he was since I answered the phone when the client called, dealt with it the most, and he was looking directly at me when he asked), perhaps I should have just sat there and said nothing. I'm sure that would have gone over much better.

So today, when he called me in the conference room and told me what we were going to talk about, for some unknown reason, I start to cry. Now, this incident doesn't particularly upset me to the point that I should cry. I'm mad that he thinks what I said was unreasonable and didn't say anything about at the time; I think situations should be dealt with as they come, not left to simmer and change in someones mind until they've decided what happened instead of clearly remembering it. Also, I don't have a clear memory of the incident, whereas if he had said something yesterday, I would have been able to explain or at least know for sure what I said. But I digress, I can't logically see anything about this situation that should make me cry. They didn't put me on probation, I'm in no danger of losing my job, he and my other boss weren't really even mad. I think he was just concerned that at some point my frustration would spill out on a client or another employee who wouldn't be so understanding (and I'll admit that while it might touch another employee, I would never be anything but polite to a client, even if I was pissed). Over-concerned might be a better term than concerned. It bothers me that he thinks I might be rude to a client, but that's not something to cry over. It bothers me that they've never pulled the receptionist for this kind of conversation no matter how unprofessional she is to people on the phone. It bothers me that he could easily have dealt with this whole thing himself if he had picked up the phone when I told him he had a call rather than leaving the client on hold so long that she hung up. Yet none of these things is worth crying over. Please understand that I wasn't bawling. Tears gathered in my eyes and a few ran down my face despite my best attempts to blink them away. Yet I couldn't even speak my peace because my voice trembled too much when I tried, and hearing that made me want to cry more.

I didn't use to be like this. In elementary school, I tumbled down a flight of twelve tile and concrete stairs and never shed a tear. In middle school my heart was broken by the love of my life, Patrick, when he said he didn't like me back and I didn't cry until I was home and in bed for the night. Nobody even thought I was upset. Then I hit high school and ever since then I have had no control over my tear ducts. The slightest thing happens and I tear up. I can hit my foot on the pet gate and I'm crying like a baby. Michael and I are joking around and all of a sudden it's not funny to me anymore and I'm crying like he's told me he wants a divorce. What is wrong with me? I could understand it through my teenage years, with puberty and hormones going crazy, but I'm an adult now, and should be well past that. Molehills should like like molehills, not mountains. And mountains shouldn't look like they're insurmountable. They should just look like a challenge, like it's always been. Or, like it was before, like it would be to the person I think of myself as.

But here we go again, I just saw one of my bosses walk by, and I thought he might say something, so I started to tear up. He didn't stop, and I was able to dismiss it, but damn I wish I could stop this.

January 9, 2009

Wet Rat

Anyone ever seen a wet rat? Believe it or not, they can be cute!

See? I told you! :)

Want to play along with the Friday Foto Fun? Visit Candid Carrie for the rules, and have fun!

January 8, 2009


Let's start off on the same page: the exclamation point in the title is not one of excitement, but of the type of complete, at-the-end-of-your-rope utter frustration I'm sure every woman experiences about men at some point in her lifetime. Why am I so frustrated? Let me count the ways.

1. Office temperature. My (male) bosses seem to think that 61 is an appropriate office temperature all year round. In my and my frozen coworkers' opinions, it is never an appropriate office temperature. All year round I have to wear a coat to work because I will likely end with hypothermia if I don't. I know we don't really have a winter here, but during our approximation of that wonderful season, I have to wear gloves to work so my fingers don't turn into ice cubes and fall off while I attempt to work. I bought an electric kettle so I could have a hot drink any time without having to leave my office.
So my coworkers and I adapt. Some of them adapt with electric heaters. Which my bosses are opposed to, because they are dangerous (we can still have them, though, because the CEO is female and understands). The obvious solution? Set the temperature at about 72, year round, and get fans! Duh! But is that what happens? No, of course not, because heaven forbid they have to have a fan running when we have an air conditioning system. Our office power bill? About $1,000 a month, year round, and this is a one level office, 6000 sq.ft. My house is 1600 sq.ft., and our power bill is usually less than $100. A simple estimate puts the office power bill at $375. Even if we doubled that, it would save us $3000 per year.They want to cut costs (as always), but heaven forbid it start with the power bill.

2. Bosses who need checking up on. That's right, one of my bosses actually tells us to bug him about getting things done. Why? Because he has 'so much on his plate' he 'forgets'. Here's my question: why should it be my or anyone else's job who is not specifically an assistant to make sure the boss gets his work done?! We have our own work to do and projects to remember all the details on. No one is helping us. We make lists and put reminders on a calendar. If we forget to do something, we get our heads get bitten off. When he forgets to do something, he doesn't get in trouble, we do! He does not have an assistant, but he shouldn't need one. That's what Outlook calendars, PDAs, and to do lists are for! Everyone else has to make do (including the other boss, who does just fine).

3. Men who don't listen. Specifically, I'm talking about my husband, and I'm not talking about me saying something and him forgetting when I ask him about it a week later. He doesn't actually listen to what I say. I can be in the same room with him, looking at him, and speaking at a normal (or even loud) volume. I finish what I'm saying, and generally expect a response. Do you know what response I get? Myself, asking him if he heard me. To my and his knowledge, he doesn't have physical hearing problems. He hears me just fine if he wants to interrupt me (and when he does is about the only time I know he's listening). When I ask him if he heard me, most of the time he says "no, I'm sorry". Sometimes he mixes it up by saying "I'm sorry, no". Here's the kicker: when I don't say anything, he notices, and asks me what's wrong, or gets mad because I'm "just sitting there like a bump on a log". Then, when I say he never listens to what I say, he develops amnesia and denies it, and gets even madder because I dare suggest that he commits such an atrocity.

And finally:
4. Men making inappropriate statements around me. Two specifics here: my husband and my father-in-law. My husband is less annoying in this because he's my husband, and our level of familiarity is expected. So when he talks about things related to the toilet, or his digestive tract, or any number of other disgusting things, I understand a little. I still let him know that it's disgusting and he needs to remember that I'm a Lady (yes, in the old sense of the word;that's how I think of myself), and he needs to treat me as such, but I do understand a little.
For his father (who is much, much worse) there is no excuse. I am his daughter-in-law, not his friend, and he needs to remember that. He regularly asks me if I would like to bathe him, leans up against me, and talks about his doctor appointments, my husband and I sleeping together, his 'ding-a-ling' (no, I am not making that up) and generally acts like a lewd old man. Which, in my opinion, is what he is. Beyond the occasional lean and his 'jokes' (yes, he actually thinks it's funny to talk about those things), he has never actually done anything inappropriate toward me, and I don't think he would, but the thought has crossed my mind. No doubt he would take offense at that, but my opinion is that when you act the part questions are bound to be asked. Especially considering that he does speak about these things around his grandchildren. I grant that they are only 3 and 1, but that shouldn't matter. Especially with the three-year-old, they are getting old enough pick up on this kind of thing, and they don't need that. They are both female, and could easily learn that it's okay for other males to speak about it because "Pawpaw" does. That is not going to lead them into anything good. Does he care or even understand that? I doubt it, and it scares me, especially for my own children.

Those are my main complaints about men for now. I could go on, but you're probably already wondering if this post will ever end. Let me help you out: The End!

January 2, 2009


I usually make New Year's Resolutions, at least one or two. This year I have several:

1. Keep up with daily devotionals and pray the Rosary at least once per week
I'm already falling behind on this one, but I have to keep trying. The Holy Spirit has been nudging me toward this for awhile, and now I feel as though it's imperative. I pray every day, but I need to do devotionals to keep up with my Scripture reading. It falls by the wayside too often.
2. Finish weight loss once and for all (hopefully by the end of June).
3. Respect Michael more.
I don't often give Michael enough credit for the wonderful man he is, and I catch myself thinking of him as a boy yet to be properly raised. But he is a grown man, and I need to learn to treat him as such, and stop trying to train him. Everyone says you can't change someone, and I believed every word, but I'm coming to the realization that you can't expect your husband to want to change just because you want him to. Subconciously, that is what I expected. If he wanted me to change, I would want to change because I love him, and vice versa. We have both changed a little to suit each other and ourselves, but I have to accept that he won't always want to change a habit or behavior that annoys me, and nor will I for him.
4. Cross stitch, play the flute, read, and enjoy life more.

I think that'll do for now. Wish me luck!