The way bedtime on Christmas Eve went, I wasn't so sure we'd have a good day on Christmas. 3 hours of screaming baby is not the ideal way to go to bed. At midnight-thirty, I finally caved, swaddled her (she HATES her swaddle) and let her scream herself to sleep (in my arms, I'm not evil). The bonus, we realized she sleeps SO much better in her swaddle when she does finally stop screaming and fall asleep. She did an 8 hour stretch only waking because I had to feed her (BF'ing Moms will understand). Katie got tons of wonderful gifts but the funny thing was, her favorite was the most simple. Remember Lamb Chops? My younger brother bought her a Lamb Chops hand puppet. It doesn't flash lights and there are no buttons play music but she loves her Lamb Chops Baby. The sad part was the only white part of her first Christmas was her family. At least this isn't the first Christmas she'll remember (it better snow next year).
Addition 2 hours later - It's taken me two hours to finish writing this post, mostly because my daughter woke up and wanted to play and then wanted to eat. In that two hours, I realized her Lamb Chops does, actually, make noise. Silly me, it's stated right there on the still attached tag but I only realized it when I squeezed the mouth pretending to talk as Lamb Chops only to have Lamb Chops happily ask, "Hi! What's your name?"
I received one of the best games ever, Curses. Christmas night, Lucas and I went to a friend's house for dinner and fun. I was so excited to have a reason to bust out my new game! I think we played with too many intelligent people, though, since we couldn't get someone to win the game. We couldn't even get someone to lose first. I think we played for two hours before calling it quits. Katie didn't sleep much while we were out which gave me a full night of uninterrupted sleep when we came home. WOO-HOO!
Our church is not one to shirk services so we were still able to fellowship with our church family Christmas morning. I was a little bummed this year when I realized Christmas would fall on a Sunday because, growing up, we never had church on Christmas Day. I love my church and the family I've gained from it so I didn't look forward to missing two weeks in a row (assuming they wouldn't have service on New Year's Day as well, which we will have service then, too).
One thing that has been discussed the last few weeks in service has been self-examination to know you are truly a Christian. There is a phrase I hear/read a lot that I have mixed feelings about. It goes something like, "Going to church doesn't make you a Christian anymore than being in a garage makes you a car." My mixed feelings come from the fact that people use it as their excuse not to attend church. I agree 100% that going to church does not mean you are a Christian, the Bible even warns of people who believe they are Christians, yet aren't, which is evident by their lifestyle (works). However, it is so extremely important that we, as Christians, attend church and, I believe, it is commanded that we attend church. I won't write all of these verses out but I will give enough to give an idea as to where I have developed this belief.
Matthew 4:23, Matthew 5-7, Mark 1:21, Mark 2:1-2, Luke 4:16:
Matthew 4:23 "Jesus wen throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues, preaching the good news of the kingdom and healing every disease and sickness among the people."
Mark 1:21 "They went to Capernaum, and, when the Sabbath came, Jesus went into the synagogue and began to teach."
Luke 4:16 "He went to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, and on the Sabbath day, he went into the synagogue as was His custom."
As Christians, we are called to be "Christ-like." Jesus, in His time on earth, made a habit of attending service on the Sabbath. We are called to be imitators of God (Ephesians 5:1) and, therefore, should imitate Jesus, being the incarnate of the Trinity. Using a middle school throw-back, WWJD? Jesus would attend service. Or he'd teach it.
Hebrews 10:25 "Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another - and all the more as you see the Day approaching."
God specifically commands us to meet together. That combined with the other verses convinces and convicts me to attend church. Not only meet together in friendly fellowship but also to meet together to learn, encourage, strengthen and grow each other.
How, exactly do we do that?
1 Timothy 4:16 "Watch your life and doctrine closely. Persevere in them, because if you do, you will save both yourself and your hearers."
We learn in church services. Yes, we learn through our own personal devotions (equally important) but God gives us those who are wiser and spiritually older to teach and guide us. God, through the Holy Spirit, gives each Christian a spiritual gift:
1 Corinthians 12:27-28 "Now you are the body of Christ and each one of you is a part of it. And in the church God has appointed first of all apostles, second prophets, third teachers, then workers of miracles, also those that have the gifts of healing, those able to help others, those with gifts of administration and those speaking in different kinds of tongues."
When we remove ourselves from church, we remove the ability of those withing a church to minister to us using their gifts and we remove the ability from ourselves to minister to a church family using our own gifts. The use of our gifts aids in spiritual growth. While some can use their gifts outside of a church setting, it would be horrible to find the gift of teaching or prophecy after having removed yourself from the setting that would allow and nurture the growth to use it to your best ability. And now backtracking a bit...
1 Corinthians 12:12 "The body is a unit, though it is made up of many parts; and though all its parts are many, they form one body. So it is with Christ."
Ephesians 4:25 "Therefore each of you must put off falsehood and speak truthfully to his neighbor for we are members of one body."
Between these two verses, we find that not only are we called one body but we are called to teach, confront or correct, as applicable, the other members of the body. Again, I know it is possible to teach, correct and confront other Christians outside of church as it is possible to spend time together outside of church but, in all honesty, how many times do you gather with other Christians each month, let alone each week, for the sole purpose to teaching and learning? God has set aside one day a week that we should give back to Him. One day out of seven. It's really not much.
That being said, I do understand that there will be circumstances that prevent a Christian from attending church and that does not make him/her any less of a Christian. One of my very closest friends has a hard time committing to much because her husband has a wacky work schedule that changes about as often as a germophobe washes his hands. She and her husband are often working on Sundays and are given a "weekend" at another point of the week. This couple is one of those strongest Christian couples our age that I have ever met and are daily in their Bibles. There are careers that demand priority, such as military, and I do fully support Christians serving their country (as I myself served 5 years in the AF and my husband is currently serving his second enlistment).
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Food For Thought
Two years ago today was supposed to be the due date of my little Jesse, not my first child and not my last. In that light:
A woman diagnosed with ovarian cancer has a 46% 5-year survival rate. Approximately 40% of all pregnancies (including those not yet detectable by an HPT) will end in loss. The worst argument for elective abortion (in my opinion) is the argument for the rights of the mom. Are my rights more important than those of a woman diagnosed with ovarian cancer just because I have a higher chance of surviving the next 5 years? My 6 week old daughter is just as dependent on someone for survival as she was 8 weeks ago. Should she be abandoned in the street, she wouldn't last without someone taking her home. That throws the argument that a fetus requires it's mother to survive out the window. My child might not require me, specifically, but that's only because she isn't in my belly anymore. She still requires someone to change her, feed her, clothe her and keep her warm. Plain and simple, on her own, life is not possible.
That brings me to my next topic. The Duggar family. They experienced the loss of a living child. You don't believe me? Go watch The Silent Scream (please heed the warning on the webpage. Do not let your child watch this movie. It is the exact opposite of appropriate for children. I'm in tears remembering the video):
http://www.silentscream.org/
How dare anyone ever suggest that God is "telling them" to stop. If God is telling them to stop, He was definitely telling me to stop after 3 consecutive miscarriages. I hope you didn't miss the part in the first paragraph where I mentioned my 6 week old daughter.
I am by no means an expert but I cannot bring myself to believe unpleasant things like miscarriage happen because God is telling someone to stop having children when Scripture indicates otherwise. That would mean God intended for His children (us) to suffer.
"Therefore, just as through one man sin entered into the world, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men, because all sinned— for until the Law sin was in the world, but sin is not imputed when there is no law. Nevertheless death reigned from Adam until Moses, even over those who had not sinned in the likeness of the offense of Adam, who is a type of Him who was to come." Romans 5:12-14
Adam and Eve were our spokespeople in the Garden of Eden. When Eve sinned and convinced Adam to sin, they brought physical death and spiritual death, in the separation between man and God.
"The LORD God said to the serpent,
“Because you have done this,
Cursed are you more than all cattle,
And more than every beast of the field;
On your belly you will go,
And dust you will eat
All the days of your life;
And I will put enmity
Between you and the woman,
And between your seed and her seed;
He shall bruise you on the head,
And you shall bruise him on the heel.”
To the woman He said,
“I will greatly multiply
Your pain in childbirth,
In pain you will bring forth children;
Yet your desire will be for your husband,
And he will rule over you.”
Then to Adam He said, “Because you have listened to the voice of your wife, and have eaten from the tree about which I commanded you, saying, ‘You shall not eat from it’;
Cursed is the ground because of you;
In toil you will eat of it
All the days of your life.
“Both thorns and thistles it shall grow for you;
And you will eat the plants of the field;
By the sweat of your face
You will eat bread,
Till you return to the ground,
Because from it you were taken;
For you are dust,
And to dust you shall return."" Genesis 3:14-19
Verse 16 speaks of the curse upon the woman, increased pain in childbirth. I will tell you labor pain was horrible and that still was nothing compared to the pain of a miscarriage because that combines the physical with the emotional and mental. Contractions that result in death, crushed dreams and a short pregnancy being so completely over take such a toll on every part of your being. That was not how the world began and it was not the intention of our Creator, it was the punishment. Why shouldn't the crime receive a punishment? We all sin. To question the punishment not only places your own views above those of perfect God but also asks that He not care. A loving parent punishes his/her child, wouldn't a loving God do the same?
And now, I am off. K is starting to scream (to date, best sound in the world. That is subject to change when her giggles become audible) so I need to provide her food.
A woman diagnosed with ovarian cancer has a 46% 5-year survival rate. Approximately 40% of all pregnancies (including those not yet detectable by an HPT) will end in loss. The worst argument for elective abortion (in my opinion) is the argument for the rights of the mom. Are my rights more important than those of a woman diagnosed with ovarian cancer just because I have a higher chance of surviving the next 5 years? My 6 week old daughter is just as dependent on someone for survival as she was 8 weeks ago. Should she be abandoned in the street, she wouldn't last without someone taking her home. That throws the argument that a fetus requires it's mother to survive out the window. My child might not require me, specifically, but that's only because she isn't in my belly anymore. She still requires someone to change her, feed her, clothe her and keep her warm. Plain and simple, on her own, life is not possible.
That brings me to my next topic. The Duggar family. They experienced the loss of a living child. You don't believe me? Go watch The Silent Scream (please heed the warning on the webpage. Do not let your child watch this movie. It is the exact opposite of appropriate for children. I'm in tears remembering the video):
http://www.silentscream.org/
How dare anyone ever suggest that God is "telling them" to stop. If God is telling them to stop, He was definitely telling me to stop after 3 consecutive miscarriages. I hope you didn't miss the part in the first paragraph where I mentioned my 6 week old daughter.
I am by no means an expert but I cannot bring myself to believe unpleasant things like miscarriage happen because God is telling someone to stop having children when Scripture indicates otherwise. That would mean God intended for His children (us) to suffer.
"Therefore, just as through one man sin entered into the world, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men, because all sinned— for until the Law sin was in the world, but sin is not imputed when there is no law. Nevertheless death reigned from Adam until Moses, even over those who had not sinned in the likeness of the offense of Adam, who is a type of Him who was to come." Romans 5:12-14
Adam and Eve were our spokespeople in the Garden of Eden. When Eve sinned and convinced Adam to sin, they brought physical death and spiritual death, in the separation between man and God.
"The LORD God said to the serpent,
“Because you have done this,
Cursed are you more than all cattle,
And more than every beast of the field;
On your belly you will go,
And dust you will eat
All the days of your life;
And I will put enmity
Between you and the woman,
And between your seed and her seed;
He shall bruise you on the head,
And you shall bruise him on the heel.”
To the woman He said,
“I will greatly multiply
Your pain in childbirth,
In pain you will bring forth children;
Yet your desire will be for your husband,
And he will rule over you.”
Then to Adam He said, “Because you have listened to the voice of your wife, and have eaten from the tree about which I commanded you, saying, ‘You shall not eat from it’;
Cursed is the ground because of you;
In toil you will eat of it
All the days of your life.
“Both thorns and thistles it shall grow for you;
And you will eat the plants of the field;
By the sweat of your face
You will eat bread,
Till you return to the ground,
Because from it you were taken;
For you are dust,
And to dust you shall return."" Genesis 3:14-19
Verse 16 speaks of the curse upon the woman, increased pain in childbirth. I will tell you labor pain was horrible and that still was nothing compared to the pain of a miscarriage because that combines the physical with the emotional and mental. Contractions that result in death, crushed dreams and a short pregnancy being so completely over take such a toll on every part of your being. That was not how the world began and it was not the intention of our Creator, it was the punishment. Why shouldn't the crime receive a punishment? We all sin. To question the punishment not only places your own views above those of perfect God but also asks that He not care. A loving parent punishes his/her child, wouldn't a loving God do the same?
And now, I am off. K is starting to scream (to date, best sound in the world. That is subject to change when her giggles become audible) so I need to provide her food.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Humbled
"The Lord told him, "Go to the house of Judas on Straight Street and ask for a man from Tarsus named Saul, for he is praying. In a vision, he has seen a man named Ananias come and place his hands on him and restore his sight."
"Lord," Ananias answered, "I have heard many reports about this man and all the harm he has done to your saints in Jerusalem. And he has come here with authority from the chief priests to arrest all who call on your name."
But the Lord answered Ananias, "Go! This man is my chosen instrument to carry my name before the Gentiles and their kings and before the people of Israel. I will show him how much he must suffer for my name."
Acts 9:11-16
No one person has done anything so horrible that they are beyond forgiveness.
It's not about what you can do for Him. It's about what He can do through you.
"Lord," Ananias answered, "I have heard many reports about this man and all the harm he has done to your saints in Jerusalem. And he has come here with authority from the chief priests to arrest all who call on your name."
But the Lord answered Ananias, "Go! This man is my chosen instrument to carry my name before the Gentiles and their kings and before the people of Israel. I will show him how much he must suffer for my name."
Acts 9:11-16
No one person has done anything so horrible that they are beyond forgiveness.
It's not about what you can do for Him. It's about what He can do through you.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Thanks for the Memories
Spending time with my best friend, going for a ride in his car, watching the fireworks from a truck bed, joking about everything and talking about nothing. Talking about nothing especially when it came close for me to leave for Basic Training.
A late afternoon walk through the seaside town I lived in for a while.
Sitting at one of the manyillegal beach bonfires singing Jesus Take the Wheel with CJ, the only girl I've ever really been able to blend voices with because we were both comfortable enough with each other not to feel the need to let the other outshine or to outshine the other, while a friend played guitar and the guys we were not so secretly head over heels (or so we thought) over sat with us.
Mending a broken heart by sneaking off at midnight with Tyler and the rest of the gang to go find the abandoned prison, climb the sniper towers and then play hide and seek before heading back with just an hour or two to spare before needing to be up for PT in the morning, driving way to fast and daring each other to stand up through the sunroof.
Mending two broken hearts with ice cream and one of those GIANT candied apples from the little candy store by the bay (covered in milk chocolate, coated in gummy bears and drizzled with dark chocolate, of course).
Turning Breathe by Shania Twain into a duet while dancing to our own music next to the dam and under the stars.
Driving out WAY passed the butchering company to lay in a truck bed in the middle of a cornfield and talk about life and the fears of becoming an adult with real responsibilities.
Isn't it odd how, when you find yourself truly happy, the memories that were once bittersweet are suddenly just sweet? How can you wish for anything different when you know the happiness you thought you felt at another time doesn't hold a candle to the joy of something as lame as "knitting" a blanket while sharing the couch during a Monday Night Football game? But thanks, anyway, to each of them for the (now) fond memories that are really stories, little pieces of thread that, when woven together, create the pattern that is me.
Almost 5 years ago, I told him to find someone else to pester and slammed the door in his face after our very first conversation. Little did I know, within months I'd be infatuated and, within years, I'd be incapable of imagining life without him.
A late afternoon walk through the seaside town I lived in for a while.
Sitting at one of the many
Mending a broken heart by sneaking off at midnight with Tyler and the rest of the gang to go find the abandoned prison, climb the sniper towers and then play hide and seek before heading back with just an hour or two to spare before needing to be up for PT in the morning, driving way to fast and daring each other to stand up through the sunroof.
Mending two broken hearts with ice cream and one of those GIANT candied apples from the little candy store by the bay (covered in milk chocolate, coated in gummy bears and drizzled with dark chocolate, of course).
Turning Breathe by Shania Twain into a duet while dancing to our own music next to the dam and under the stars.
Driving out WAY passed the butchering company to lay in a truck bed in the middle of a cornfield and talk about life and the fears of becoming an adult with real responsibilities.
Isn't it odd how, when you find yourself truly happy, the memories that were once bittersweet are suddenly just sweet? How can you wish for anything different when you know the happiness you thought you felt at another time doesn't hold a candle to the joy of something as lame as "knitting" a blanket while sharing the couch during a Monday Night Football game? But thanks, anyway, to each of them for the (now) fond memories that are really stories, little pieces of thread that, when woven together, create the pattern that is me.
Almost 5 years ago, I told him to find someone else to pester and slammed the door in his face after our very first conversation. Little did I know, within months I'd be infatuated and, within years, I'd be incapable of imagining life without him.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Yellow Flag
If pregnancy were football, my baby would have received a yellow flag for a false start penalty today. It's not her first. Thursday, we really thought we might be headed to L&D sometime that night. Frequent contractions that just wouldn't stop all day (through the night and into Friday morning before subsiding) until, of course, I called the nurse to find out exactly what I was looking for before heading to the hospital. Almost nothing until this morning when, at church, I told everyone I hadn't had too many contractions in a few days and the ones I had weren't painful. Of course, then I get these super frequent and decently painful contractions that went on for almost two hours only to decrease in intensity and spread out. Lucky enough, I don't feel like I'm almost 38 weeks pregnant so, while it's frustrating each time to wonder and hope that she's on her way, it doesn't feel like it's quite time for her to come yet. It still hasn't fully sank in that I'm pregnant and I still get shocked each time I see my side profile in a mirror. I still try to do things that I'm physically incapable of doing because I forget that I'm incapable of doing those things. I wonder if she'll feel like my baby when I hold her the first time or if it will feel like I'm supposed to hand her back to her real mom at any minute? All I know is, at this time, it feels like she'll be late because it doesn't feel like it's time for her to get here. And, oddly enough, I'm currently okay with that.
Maybe part of it has to do with being so busy. We're about a day away from being completely finished taking trash and items out of the apartment and being ready to start cleaning (most of which Luke will probably end up having to do). I've had a few projects to take care of, between cooking up meals to freeze for those nights when I don't feel like seeing a neighbor/friend but also don't feel like cooking or calling in for take-out/delivery, baby blankets for friends (everyone is pregnant! Don't drink the water if you don't want to get knocked up!), baby proofing the house and getting the pups used to the baby furniture/gear. Baby blanket pictures to come but the people receiving them have to see them first!
That being said, I'm off the read that last two chapters of my new and ridiculously immature and silly book, Generation Dead (ZOMBIES!), before working on the newborn photo prop blanket for my amazingly talented photographer friend.
Maybe part of it has to do with being so busy. We're about a day away from being completely finished taking trash and items out of the apartment and being ready to start cleaning (most of which Luke will probably end up having to do). I've had a few projects to take care of, between cooking up meals to freeze for those nights when I don't feel like seeing a neighbor/friend but also don't feel like cooking or calling in for take-out/delivery, baby blankets for friends (everyone is pregnant! Don't drink the water if you don't want to get knocked up!), baby proofing the house and getting the pups used to the baby furniture/gear. Baby blanket pictures to come but the people receiving them have to see them first!
That being said, I'm off the read that last two chapters of my new and ridiculously immature and silly book, Generation Dead (ZOMBIES!), before working on the newborn photo prop blanket for my amazingly talented photographer friend.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Progress
Luke has been hard at work while at work and at home, bringing that last bit of stuff from the apartment to the house. I've been hard at work with baby prep, meal prep and house prep.
We had some maternity photos done in the nursery just after moving here (to be sure they were done while I'm still pregnant). Of course, after the maternity pictures were taken, nesting started. That's where the meal prep comes in. I've heard from so many moms that we'll want some meals made and frozen, ready to be thawed, heated and eaten once this baby is here so that's how I've kept myself busy. I figure, even if I make too much, it's better to have more pre-made meals than we need to have and be able to have our options, knowing they'll all get eaten anyway, than to have too few meals and wish I'd made more. The best part is that I was smart enough to store some as individual servings. I get up with Luke every morning and put his lunch together before he leaves. Now, we'll just need to throw a few frozen meals in the fridge on Sunday and, if we're both too tired to get up in time for him to have a lunch to bring, he just needs to throw one in his bag and heat it at work. I plan for everything. See? I'm not cooking too much. And, with nesting, CLEARLY I won't be burning myself out. I would have done it already.
Now, on to the house. I'm only posting pictures of the kitchen because it's the only room that doesn't still look like a hurricane hit it (aside from the nursery but you'll have to see my maternity portraits to see that). You better believe the nursery and the kitchen were the first two rooms I set up. I need my cooking space! Almost all of my kitchen stuff is over here now, too. I just need a taller stool since the top two shelves are well above my reach.
We had some maternity photos done in the nursery just after moving here (to be sure they were done while I'm still pregnant). Of course, after the maternity pictures were taken, nesting started. That's where the meal prep comes in. I've heard from so many moms that we'll want some meals made and frozen, ready to be thawed, heated and eaten once this baby is here so that's how I've kept myself busy. I figure, even if I make too much, it's better to have more pre-made meals than we need to have and be able to have our options, knowing they'll all get eaten anyway, than to have too few meals and wish I'd made more. The best part is that I was smart enough to store some as individual servings. I get up with Luke every morning and put his lunch together before he leaves. Now, we'll just need to throw a few frozen meals in the fridge on Sunday and, if we're both too tired to get up in time for him to have a lunch to bring, he just needs to throw one in his bag and heat it at work. I plan for everything. See? I'm not cooking too much. And, with nesting, CLEARLY I won't be burning myself out. I would have done it already.
Now, on to the house. I'm only posting pictures of the kitchen because it's the only room that doesn't still look like a hurricane hit it (aside from the nursery but you'll have to see my maternity portraits to see that). You better believe the nursery and the kitchen were the first two rooms I set up. I need my cooking space! Almost all of my kitchen stuff is over here now, too. I just need a taller stool since the top two shelves are well above my reach.
My stock pile. The pantry shelves are a little flimsy so I'm too scared to stack canned goods on them.
Complete with the dishes from lunch that day!
It finally looks like someone moved in instead of being inhabited by a bunch of gypsies that don't plan on staying long.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Home Again
We've spent the last week in the middle of a move and preparing for our majorly awesome and totally flopped yardsale. Spending a year in an apartment is an awesome way to a) accumulate a ton of crap that you don't realize you have because it lands in boxes and hides away there and b) come to the realization that you have way too much crap because the boxes are overtaking the minimal amount of storage and closet space an apartment provides. Which is how this yardsale came into existence. Too bad some lady held a yardsale at the same time and stole all of my advertising/publicity by holding hers on the main road! We shall try again soon.
Moving in was quite an adventure. I say adventure because we went to get our keys only to find out we would be getting ONE key for two people... and that we would have to create and pay for the second key. That left me wondering how the previous tenants, 3 unrelated people who roomed in the same house, managed to get buy on one key. I'm sure they had more than one so why was I stuck creating another? We arrived at the house to find out we didn't have a garage door opener, which sent us back out on the 20 minute drive to the property manager to pick one up. That's when the fun began. By fun, I mean the trip to find a Lowe's or Home Depot so we could create spare keys followed by the photography spree through the new house. The walls hadn't been repainted, the carpets were covered in stains, the front right burner on the stove is possessed and the gas fireplace doesn't work. Did I mention the leak that was coming in through the fireplace anytime it rained? The one that flooded our livingroom? Yeah, there was that, too. But with all of the quirks and damages, I can't bring myself to dislike our funny, little house. I mean, there is 600+ more square feet and a garage and we do only pay $45 more/month than our apartment. And that's before this year's $200 raise. Yep, that's just $45 more than our first year rate at the apartment... the rate the property manager there swore I would never find elsewhere because the housing market is "increasing." If by increasing, she meant people were moving because they were unable to afford where they lived so more options were available, then I agree 100%. But, because of her stupidity, I have a garage and a house and a spare room for another year and no monthly pet fees and this cute place with enough room for my family. My neighbors are pretty nice people, too. I'm starting to feel like I'm home again. So, without further adieu, here are the pictures of the unfurnished house. But only the non-damage pictures. I'm sure you don't want to see what the water leak did to the padding and wood under the carpets...
Moving in was quite an adventure. I say adventure because we went to get our keys only to find out we would be getting ONE key for two people... and that we would have to create and pay for the second key. That left me wondering how the previous tenants, 3 unrelated people who roomed in the same house, managed to get buy on one key. I'm sure they had more than one so why was I stuck creating another? We arrived at the house to find out we didn't have a garage door opener, which sent us back out on the 20 minute drive to the property manager to pick one up. That's when the fun began. By fun, I mean the trip to find a Lowe's or Home Depot so we could create spare keys followed by the photography spree through the new house. The walls hadn't been repainted, the carpets were covered in stains, the front right burner on the stove is possessed and the gas fireplace doesn't work. Did I mention the leak that was coming in through the fireplace anytime it rained? The one that flooded our livingroom? Yeah, there was that, too. But with all of the quirks and damages, I can't bring myself to dislike our funny, little house. I mean, there is 600+ more square feet and a garage and we do only pay $45 more/month than our apartment. And that's before this year's $200 raise. Yep, that's just $45 more than our first year rate at the apartment... the rate the property manager there swore I would never find elsewhere because the housing market is "increasing." If by increasing, she meant people were moving because they were unable to afford where they lived so more options were available, then I agree 100%. But, because of her stupidity, I have a garage and a house and a spare room for another year and no monthly pet fees and this cute place with enough room for my family. My neighbors are pretty nice people, too. I'm starting to feel like I'm home again. So, without further adieu, here are the pictures of the unfurnished house. But only the non-damage pictures. I'm sure you don't want to see what the water leak did to the padding and wood under the carpets...
Welcome Home!
Bedroom #1 (guest room)
Massive closet
Diningroom!
Joined diningroom/livingroom to kitchen
Joined living/diningroom and FIREPLACE (I'm sure it will work one day)!
Loft (aka nursery)
Balcony #2
Master bath (standing shower AND soaking tub = happy preggo)
Master bedroom (it's MUCH bigger than it looks in the picture)
View from the loft
Balcony #1
Next up: Nursery pictures! I finished what needed to be done in time for a maternity shoot with a good friend but the nursery has almost come to a complete finish now! I can't wait to show it off through photos!
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Baby Freshie
Just about 7 years ago, I left our tiny town of Watervliet to do something big with my life. I didn't want what everyone else wanted. I'd been accepted to college, had earned scholarships and could have been ready to go but it just didn't feel right. I was going to join the Air Force.
There is absolutely nothing I regret about becoming a member of our nation's Armed Forces, don't get me wrong, but you don't realize how much you give up when you leave home until something big happens. I've had a few "something bigs" over the last 7 years but today... Today is the day my baby sister starts college. Today she is a Freshman all over again. I'm not sure how it's even possible. She was only 11 when I left home. It doesn't feel like it's been 7 years. When I look at her, I can definitely see the changes but I've only been home 9 times in 7 years, never more than 10 days at a time. Regardless of how she has grown, she can't be any older than 15 in my brain. It was a huge shock when I realized she was too old to be a Junior Bridesmaid for my wedding. Then came Driver's Ed which brought a little sadness. I was old enough to legally accompany her as a licensed adult. When she was born, one of the first things I did was count the years to the time she'd be getting her driver's license to see what our ages would be. The idea of teaching her to drive was so exciting for me! I missed out. Then came Junior Prom. Was she really old enough to attend without being asked?!?! Senior Prom wasn't so much of a shock as it was a heart attack when my brain registered the fact that she was probably thinking about a possible date or crushing on some high school boy or another. Don't forget, she hadn't had time to grow for me. To me, she wasn't 17 years old, she was maybe 14.
Here we are today. My baby sister is officially a little Freshie all over again, this time attending college. I think my brain might slowly be catching on to the fact that she's growing up but that doesn't stop me from sitting in front of the computer with my Little Mermaid box of tissues, sobbing hormonally for everything I've missed. All of middle school, all of high school and now the first years of college. Will I miss teasing her first boyfriend or watching her fall in love? Will I be there when she gets her first awards for music (because I know she will. She's just that talented). Will I get to watch her develop her computer skills into something usable in the work force?
Good luck little Freshie! Everyone in town knows you have incredible musical talent, it's time to show the world what you can do. Be fearless and take chances. Now is the time to try and fail, now when you can pick yourself back up again and move forward like nothing happened. Protect yourself Baby Freshie. Don't let someone tell you who to be or what to do. You're strong and fierce. Show them they can't push you around just like your stubborn baby-self showed me so many times. Stand up for what you believe in. If you don't stand for anything, you will fall for everything. Go to class and knock 'em dead (and don't forget to study hard somewhere in between).
There is absolutely nothing I regret about becoming a member of our nation's Armed Forces, don't get me wrong, but you don't realize how much you give up when you leave home until something big happens. I've had a few "something bigs" over the last 7 years but today... Today is the day my baby sister starts college. Today she is a Freshman all over again. I'm not sure how it's even possible. She was only 11 when I left home. It doesn't feel like it's been 7 years. When I look at her, I can definitely see the changes but I've only been home 9 times in 7 years, never more than 10 days at a time. Regardless of how she has grown, she can't be any older than 15 in my brain. It was a huge shock when I realized she was too old to be a Junior Bridesmaid for my wedding. Then came Driver's Ed which brought a little sadness. I was old enough to legally accompany her as a licensed adult. When she was born, one of the first things I did was count the years to the time she'd be getting her driver's license to see what our ages would be. The idea of teaching her to drive was so exciting for me! I missed out. Then came Junior Prom. Was she really old enough to attend without being asked?!?! Senior Prom wasn't so much of a shock as it was a heart attack when my brain registered the fact that she was probably thinking about a possible date or crushing on some high school boy or another. Don't forget, she hadn't had time to grow for me. To me, she wasn't 17 years old, she was maybe 14.
Here we are today. My baby sister is officially a little Freshie all over again, this time attending college. I think my brain might slowly be catching on to the fact that she's growing up but that doesn't stop me from sitting in front of the computer with my Little Mermaid box of tissues, sobbing hormonally for everything I've missed. All of middle school, all of high school and now the first years of college. Will I miss teasing her first boyfriend or watching her fall in love? Will I be there when she gets her first awards for music (because I know she will. She's just that talented). Will I get to watch her develop her computer skills into something usable in the work force?
Good luck little Freshie! Everyone in town knows you have incredible musical talent, it's time to show the world what you can do. Be fearless and take chances. Now is the time to try and fail, now when you can pick yourself back up again and move forward like nothing happened. Protect yourself Baby Freshie. Don't let someone tell you who to be or what to do. You're strong and fierce. Show them they can't push you around just like your stubborn baby-self showed me so many times. Stand up for what you believe in. If you don't stand for anything, you will fall for everything. Go to class and knock 'em dead (and don't forget to study hard somewhere in between).
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Looking Back
Five days from now will be the estimated due date of my little Jayden. No, not the baby I'm currently carrying, Jayden is one of my angels. I'm blessed enough to have more than one to call my own. I've been thinking a lot about my babies born from my body directly into heaven. I lost each of them early on in pregnancy, right around 6 weeks. Maybe it's the impending due dates, maybe it's the upcoming birth of the child I'm currently carrying. Today, I was thinking about an incident that took place about a month after my second miscarriage.
When we lived in Hawaii, we had a fruit tree in our backyard. Actually, we had more than one, but only one of them will be the topic of our story today. The tree carried a fruit called "soursop." I'm pretty sure I've also seen it called "guanaba" but I'm not positive. The fruit was delicious, when ripe, tasting like a sour apple Jolly Rancher. I rarely let the fruit hit the ground because, once it did, it was overripe and not usable. I supposed that right around the time I was pregnant, a soursop must have been ripening on the tree because, about a month after I miscarried (which took place 11 days after we found out we were pregnant), I found two baby soursop trees beneath the fruit-bearing tree. These baby-trees were so close to the parent-tree that there was no possible way they could have survived. The thought of watching the parent-tree choke the life from the baby-trees hit way too close to home for me, causing insane amounts of anxiety and panic. I just had to find these baby-trees a new home where they would survive and be cared for. I'm sure you can imagine, with the flavor of candy and the nutrients of fruit, it was not difficult to find someone to take the tiny saplings. The first person I asked at work gladly accepted. He came over and we dug up the little trees and replanted them in some clay pots until they were big enough to grow in his yard. As strange as it is, it was such a relief to know that these little babies would survive and thrive when mine hadn't.
At the time, there was no parallel for me, aside from not being able to bear the pain of watching the parent-tree slowly starve and kill the two saplings. I was questioning the belief I've held for as long as I can remember: that life begins at the time of conception. Looking back, there are bigger parallels than I was able to see through my pain-ridden eyes. Jeremiah 1:4-5, Psalm 51:5 and Psalm 139:13-16 are just a few passages that confirm life begins at the time of conception. Just like I had found a new home for the two little saplings, God brought my little lives into a new home. A home where they would (and do) not only survive and thrive but a home where they know no pain, never experience suffering, won't know the sting of rejection or the heartbreak of loss. Just like I protected those tiny baby-trees, God protected my babies, offering a level of protection that I never could.
This doesn't mean I never want to birth a living, healthy child into my own arms nor does it mean I don't feel heartache for the babies I have to wait to hold. It only means the memories are now bittersweet. This time of year, despite coming into my favorite season, has always been difficult. This year, it will be a time for mourning our losses and a time for celebrating our new blessing. I'm sure the pain will never completely cease but with it now comes the joy of knowing my babies are waiting for me in the best care anyone could offer and, with it, comes a sense of hope and joy in the promises of our Heavenly Father.
When we lived in Hawaii, we had a fruit tree in our backyard. Actually, we had more than one, but only one of them will be the topic of our story today. The tree carried a fruit called "soursop." I'm pretty sure I've also seen it called "guanaba" but I'm not positive. The fruit was delicious, when ripe, tasting like a sour apple Jolly Rancher. I rarely let the fruit hit the ground because, once it did, it was overripe and not usable. I supposed that right around the time I was pregnant, a soursop must have been ripening on the tree because, about a month after I miscarried (which took place 11 days after we found out we were pregnant), I found two baby soursop trees beneath the fruit-bearing tree. These baby-trees were so close to the parent-tree that there was no possible way they could have survived. The thought of watching the parent-tree choke the life from the baby-trees hit way too close to home for me, causing insane amounts of anxiety and panic. I just had to find these baby-trees a new home where they would survive and be cared for. I'm sure you can imagine, with the flavor of candy and the nutrients of fruit, it was not difficult to find someone to take the tiny saplings. The first person I asked at work gladly accepted. He came over and we dug up the little trees and replanted them in some clay pots until they were big enough to grow in his yard. As strange as it is, it was such a relief to know that these little babies would survive and thrive when mine hadn't.
At the time, there was no parallel for me, aside from not being able to bear the pain of watching the parent-tree slowly starve and kill the two saplings. I was questioning the belief I've held for as long as I can remember: that life begins at the time of conception. Looking back, there are bigger parallels than I was able to see through my pain-ridden eyes. Jeremiah 1:4-5, Psalm 51:5 and Psalm 139:13-16 are just a few passages that confirm life begins at the time of conception. Just like I had found a new home for the two little saplings, God brought my little lives into a new home. A home where they would (and do) not only survive and thrive but a home where they know no pain, never experience suffering, won't know the sting of rejection or the heartbreak of loss. Just like I protected those tiny baby-trees, God protected my babies, offering a level of protection that I never could.
This doesn't mean I never want to birth a living, healthy child into my own arms nor does it mean I don't feel heartache for the babies I have to wait to hold. It only means the memories are now bittersweet. This time of year, despite coming into my favorite season, has always been difficult. This year, it will be a time for mourning our losses and a time for celebrating our new blessing. I'm sure the pain will never completely cease but with it now comes the joy of knowing my babies are waiting for me in the best care anyone could offer and, with it, comes a sense of hope and joy in the promises of our Heavenly Father.
My baby soursop trees, a reminder of God's blessings
Friday, August 12, 2011
The Sunshine State - Part One
It's kind of crazy to think that just this morning, I woke up in Florida. I'm back home now. A 14 hour drive in 4 hours of flying. I'd hate to think of how long that walk would have been but I can't help but wonder. Two days at Disney, 1 airboat gator tour, a dinner at the Wolfgang Puck Diningroom, lots of walking, a few awesome rain storms and plenty of time with family. This was the third real vacation I've ever taken, the first being my honeymoon three years ago.
I'll just start with Disney today. There's so much to say about it, there's no way I could cover the entire vacation in one blog. First, let me say thank God for the military promotional tickets. We only used two of the 4 tickets but we still saved $60 bucks buying 4 tickets instead of 2 military priced tickets/person. Disney is INSANELY expensive. I'm also thanking my amazing in-laws for covering the rooms and so much of the food. There is no way we could have afforded this trip without them, at least not for the 7 days we stayed in Florida.
The Good:
I really thought my favorite ride would be the Kilimanjaro Safaris (Animal Kingdom) but The Land (Epcot Future World) definitely stole the show. If you've never been to Disney, The Land is a boat ride that takes you behind the scenes to see agricultural development over the last century (or maybe longer) along with the progress and technology Disney, themselves, are working on and taking to further our agricultural advancement. I loved going behind the scenes into the Disney garden, if it can even be described that way, to see the produce and fish Disney grows to use at the park restaurants. The reason I have a hard time calling it a garden is because of all of the experimental growing techniques (nothing crazy, calm down people) that Disney uses. They have towers of herbs, trees of tomatoes (yes, TREES), tables of lettuce, the list of crazy awesomeness goes on. I wouldn't mind getting my hands on some of the things they use to grow produce so I can have a full garden on my 112 sq ft patio. Then again, plants tremble at my sight and wither at my touch so maybe it's best that I leave the farming to the professionals. (BTW, I can see why there are pregnancy restrictions on the Safari ride but, if you're healthy and don't mind taking a few minutes post safari to stretch your back to relieve the aches and pains, there is really no reason not to ride it. You're missing out on all of the awesome African animals and how close they will actually come to you.)
I loved watching my niece and nephew run around Epcot on our first park day, gathering all of the signatures and pictures they could get with the characters. J was hilarious, insisting he'd never wanted the "stinking princess" signatures only to turn around and whip out his book and best smile whenever one was in sight. Watching L at the Princess Dinner and her excitement brought on by being close enough to touch a princess was priceless. Disney is definitely something I want to do with my own children but not until the youngest is at least 6. J was the perfect age to show extreme joy and anticipation while being old enough to walk on his own, know to stay close and barely complain, despite the muggy heat. Disney is magical for the youngsters and I can't wait to bring mine.
Epcot World Showcase was spectacular. We met people literally from around the world. Disney sends representatives to the different countries represented in World Showcase to recruit young adults to work at the various countries. These people leave their homes to comes spend a year at Disney to make the attraction more realistic for park visitors while being able to do a bit of traveling and site-seeing of their own. Each person we spoke with was so friendly and warm, always smiling and eager to talk about their home country. It definitely added to the attraction and made it so much more amazing than I'd expected.
Downtown Disney Shopping Center had so many amazing shops, to include a Bibbidi Bobbity Boutique where girls can have hair and make-up done to dress like their favorite princess. It's right inside a Disney store, convenient if your princess wants a dress to match her hair and make-up. Ghirardelli has a store AND an ice cream shop in the shopping center. I became addicted to their ice cream shop while living in California. It was SO hard to avoid that temptation even though I was stuffed with Cuban food from lunch. Little princes will love the Lego store, as will the Moms and Dads. There were multiple HUGE displays made out of Legos depicting various scenes from Disney movies. Overall, the Shopping Center had the perfect mesh of stores and sites for kids and parents alike.
The Bad:
The crowds! August is HOT. Why are people so insane to travel to a humid state to wander around in this heat?!?! It's not so much the crowds as it was the caliber of people walking in the parks. There is a reason I refuse to bring a child that is old enough to want to walk but not old enough to know to stay close or keep an eye on. We watched (multiple times) as little kiddos, as young as two years old, were run over without second thought. Even J and L got away a few times and disappeared into the crowds and they made attempts to stay close. I'm not joking when I tell you I saw a lady on an Amigo run into a 3 year old, sending her flying only to take a sidelong glance and keep driving away. The poor little girl was sobbing as her Mom scooped her up and the culprit of the hit and run was gone before anyone was able to recover from the shock of the situation and respond in any way more than yelling at the lady. There was more than one occasion when someone would take a look at my belly, realize I was incapable of doing much more than waddling, literally shove me out of their way and rush on. I do not at all recommend taking a small child. I was entirely shocked at how rude people were. I thought the locals in this area were bad but I've never seen anything like the callousness I saw at Disney. That aside, the trip was amazing and the parks were so much more than I expected. The employees are amazing, friendly and so accommodating, they definitely made up for the lack of respect from the park visitors.
I'll just start with Disney today. There's so much to say about it, there's no way I could cover the entire vacation in one blog. First, let me say thank God for the military promotional tickets. We only used two of the 4 tickets but we still saved $60 bucks buying 4 tickets instead of 2 military priced tickets/person. Disney is INSANELY expensive. I'm also thanking my amazing in-laws for covering the rooms and so much of the food. There is no way we could have afforded this trip without them, at least not for the 7 days we stayed in Florida.
The Good:
I really thought my favorite ride would be the Kilimanjaro Safaris (Animal Kingdom) but The Land (Epcot Future World) definitely stole the show. If you've never been to Disney, The Land is a boat ride that takes you behind the scenes to see agricultural development over the last century (or maybe longer) along with the progress and technology Disney, themselves, are working on and taking to further our agricultural advancement. I loved going behind the scenes into the Disney garden, if it can even be described that way, to see the produce and fish Disney grows to use at the park restaurants. The reason I have a hard time calling it a garden is because of all of the experimental growing techniques (nothing crazy, calm down people) that Disney uses. They have towers of herbs, trees of tomatoes (yes, TREES), tables of lettuce, the list of crazy awesomeness goes on. I wouldn't mind getting my hands on some of the things they use to grow produce so I can have a full garden on my 112 sq ft patio. Then again, plants tremble at my sight and wither at my touch so maybe it's best that I leave the farming to the professionals. (BTW, I can see why there are pregnancy restrictions on the Safari ride but, if you're healthy and don't mind taking a few minutes post safari to stretch your back to relieve the aches and pains, there is really no reason not to ride it. You're missing out on all of the awesome African animals and how close they will actually come to you.)
I loved watching my niece and nephew run around Epcot on our first park day, gathering all of the signatures and pictures they could get with the characters. J was hilarious, insisting he'd never wanted the "stinking princess" signatures only to turn around and whip out his book and best smile whenever one was in sight. Watching L at the Princess Dinner and her excitement brought on by being close enough to touch a princess was priceless. Disney is definitely something I want to do with my own children but not until the youngest is at least 6. J was the perfect age to show extreme joy and anticipation while being old enough to walk on his own, know to stay close and barely complain, despite the muggy heat. Disney is magical for the youngsters and I can't wait to bring mine.
Epcot World Showcase was spectacular. We met people literally from around the world. Disney sends representatives to the different countries represented in World Showcase to recruit young adults to work at the various countries. These people leave their homes to comes spend a year at Disney to make the attraction more realistic for park visitors while being able to do a bit of traveling and site-seeing of their own. Each person we spoke with was so friendly and warm, always smiling and eager to talk about their home country. It definitely added to the attraction and made it so much more amazing than I'd expected.
Downtown Disney Shopping Center had so many amazing shops, to include a Bibbidi Bobbity Boutique where girls can have hair and make-up done to dress like their favorite princess. It's right inside a Disney store, convenient if your princess wants a dress to match her hair and make-up. Ghirardelli has a store AND an ice cream shop in the shopping center. I became addicted to their ice cream shop while living in California. It was SO hard to avoid that temptation even though I was stuffed with Cuban food from lunch. Little princes will love the Lego store, as will the Moms and Dads. There were multiple HUGE displays made out of Legos depicting various scenes from Disney movies. Overall, the Shopping Center had the perfect mesh of stores and sites for kids and parents alike.
The Bad:
The crowds! August is HOT. Why are people so insane to travel to a humid state to wander around in this heat?!?! It's not so much the crowds as it was the caliber of people walking in the parks. There is a reason I refuse to bring a child that is old enough to want to walk but not old enough to know to stay close or keep an eye on. We watched (multiple times) as little kiddos, as young as two years old, were run over without second thought. Even J and L got away a few times and disappeared into the crowds and they made attempts to stay close. I'm not joking when I tell you I saw a lady on an Amigo run into a 3 year old, sending her flying only to take a sidelong glance and keep driving away. The poor little girl was sobbing as her Mom scooped her up and the culprit of the hit and run was gone before anyone was able to recover from the shock of the situation and respond in any way more than yelling at the lady. There was more than one occasion when someone would take a look at my belly, realize I was incapable of doing much more than waddling, literally shove me out of their way and rush on. I do not at all recommend taking a small child. I was entirely shocked at how rude people were. I thought the locals in this area were bad but I've never seen anything like the callousness I saw at Disney. That aside, the trip was amazing and the parks were so much more than I expected. The employees are amazing, friendly and so accommodating, they definitely made up for the lack of respect from the park visitors.
Epcot Future World from World Showcase
A view in France
Of course, you need the welcome sign!
Who doesn't love Rafiki?
Just a few feet away on the Safari
The hippo on the walking safari tour
I loved these guys!
There were multiple of these huge Lego displays in Downtown Disney. AMAZING!
In Italy. It smelled SO good!
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Like My Fave Kind of Peanut Butter....
I've heard them called "crunchy." It kind of weirds me out, I'm not gonna lie. Crunchy is a texture, usually something you might eat. Like peanut butter! You don't eat moms so why do moms have to be broken down into two groups, one being called "crunchy?" Does anyone else find the term slightly odd? I'm trying to make the correlation here. A "crunchy" mom tends to do co-sleeping, breastfeeding, organic everything, homemade baby food, clothe diapers, touch-soothing (as opposed to self-soothe). Are they crunchy because the stereotype of this person might be a hippie and the stereotypical hippie wears dreads and, therefore, doesn't wash her hair and is "all natural" so isn't really about hair removal (think armpits)? Is crunchy an adjective for the noise emanating from the stereotypical-hippie-mom's voluminous underarm hair as she lifts her infant from the sling she constantly wears around her body to keep baby close to her? At first, I just found the term to be a little funny. Now, I can't help but picture a lumpy woman, much resembling the peanut butter I prefer to use on my sandwiches.
I'd elaborate more but I'm sure you've gotten the picture of what goes through my brain each time I read or hear about a "crunchy" mom so I'll just go back to being pregnant and barefoot in my kitchen, making rice pudding, banana cake and brownies. Or maybe cookies.
I'd elaborate more but I'm sure you've gotten the picture of what goes through my brain each time I read or hear about a "crunchy" mom so I'll just go back to being pregnant and barefoot in my kitchen, making rice pudding, banana cake and brownies. Or maybe cookies.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
The Baby Ate It
If you ask me what's changed the most since I got pregnant, I'll tell you I lost most compassion and sympathy. At least I can be honest. That being said, you've now been warned that if you come to me with a stupid problem or selfish complaint, I'll probably tell you it's stupid or selfish. I don't intend to be rude but you have to understand, this child in my belly is eating everything, to include the genetic code that determines one's mothering instinct. I eat like a hog but I can still wear a lot of my pre-pregnancy clothing. The only ones that don't fit are shirts that are now too short. That alone is evidence of my child's appetite so I'm positive she ate my sympathy gene.
According to my Dad, I'm just like him and have a tendency to view most situations without any emotional blinders. According to my Mom, I'm just like my Dad and don't try hard enough to see the emotional side of any given situation. According to my mouth, lately, not only do I lack the emotional blinders but I also lack the filter that reminds me to be tactful. If you're looking for a crying shoulder, mine isn't it. If you're looking for honesty, I'm your gal. I do make an attempt to sugar coat my words but have been finding more and more lately (usually post-conversation) that the sugar might have gone stale.
Honestly, I think I've hit that point in life where I feel like I'm too old for the bologna. The bad part is that I think I feel other people around my age and older should also feel too old for the bologna. I know I'm no where near GeezerTown yet but I think I might end up a resident well before my AARP application arrives in the mail. I'm ready to move forward and do big things. I know 25 is still young but, at the same time, it's not. I feel the push to focus on the adult I want to be, as opposed to the young adult I've been. Hearing about all of the bologna just irritates me more because it reminds me that I, too, am doing nothing with my life (at this time). I need to remind myself, instead, that I'm Rosie the Riveter, building a human in my torso.
I hate being unemployed. It just gives me too much time to feel lazy. Maybe it's time to start the online-job hunt, at least until baby arrives, settles in and I restart college. I'm too old (and too pregnant) to party like I'm 21 again and too driven to do nothing.
According to my Dad, I'm just like him and have a tendency to view most situations without any emotional blinders. According to my Mom, I'm just like my Dad and don't try hard enough to see the emotional side of any given situation. According to my mouth, lately, not only do I lack the emotional blinders but I also lack the filter that reminds me to be tactful. If you're looking for a crying shoulder, mine isn't it. If you're looking for honesty, I'm your gal. I do make an attempt to sugar coat my words but have been finding more and more lately (usually post-conversation) that the sugar might have gone stale.
Honestly, I think I've hit that point in life where I feel like I'm too old for the bologna. The bad part is that I think I feel other people around my age and older should also feel too old for the bologna. I know I'm no where near GeezerTown yet but I think I might end up a resident well before my AARP application arrives in the mail. I'm ready to move forward and do big things. I know 25 is still young but, at the same time, it's not. I feel the push to focus on the adult I want to be, as opposed to the young adult I've been. Hearing about all of the bologna just irritates me more because it reminds me that I, too, am doing nothing with my life (at this time). I need to remind myself, instead, that I'm Rosie the Riveter, building a human in my torso.
I hate being unemployed. It just gives me too much time to feel lazy. Maybe it's time to start the online-job hunt, at least until baby arrives, settles in and I restart college. I'm too old (and too pregnant) to party like I'm 21 again and too driven to do nothing.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Online Education
Class is about to begin.
Out-cast: noun : one that is cast out or refused acceptance (as by society) - Taken from the Mirriam Webster online dictionary
An outcast isn't someone who puts him/herself in a position where no one (to include family) wants to be around him/her through selfishness, creating and maintaining drama, ignorance and tasteless behavior. That, my friend, is entirely different. Remember that boy in the 3rd grade that everyone was mean to because he couldn't read very well or the girl who's parents couldn't afford to keep up with the current trends (or her growth spurts) so she was stuck in Goodwill high water pants from the 1980's? Those are examples of an outcast. The guy that refuses, time and time again, to thank others for their hospitality and generosity, going so far as to purposely take advantage, he's not an outcast. The girl that can't stand the attention being removed from her and makes up stories to gain pity and the spotlight, only for those around her to figure out she's been lying each time, she's not an outcast either. A person cannot be an outcast if (s)he continuously behaves in such a manner as to send people packing.
A little common sense goes a long way. Do you enjoy being stuck with the bill because a specific friend repeatedly "forgets" his/her wallet each time you go out? Probably not. In fact, I'd go so far to say that after you've paid so much for his/her dinners/recreational activities, you'd stop going out together. So before you make your next move of forcing your "friend" into paying your bill, refusing to say thank you for that elaborate Christmas gift your Great Aunt Gertrude gave you or making your cousin feel two inches tall because something good happened to him and you're jealous, think to yourself, "Self, does this make me look like ajacka jerk? Would I be happy if someone did this to me repeatedly?" If either answer is yes, reflect on what you can do instead to make the situation a positive one. I don't know, you could maybe start with paying your friend's bill for a change, calling Great Aunt Gertrude and thanking her profusely for all the gifts you selfishly accepted without a thank you and congratulate your cousin before apologizing to all of them profusely for acting like an "amoeba on a flea on a dog," to quote the great Frenchie.
Out-cast: noun : one that is cast out or refused acceptance (as by society) - Taken from the Mirriam Webster online dictionary
An outcast isn't someone who puts him/herself in a position where no one (to include family) wants to be around him/her through selfishness, creating and maintaining drama, ignorance and tasteless behavior. That, my friend, is entirely different. Remember that boy in the 3rd grade that everyone was mean to because he couldn't read very well or the girl who's parents couldn't afford to keep up with the current trends (or her growth spurts) so she was stuck in Goodwill high water pants from the 1980's? Those are examples of an outcast. The guy that refuses, time and time again, to thank others for their hospitality and generosity, going so far as to purposely take advantage, he's not an outcast. The girl that can't stand the attention being removed from her and makes up stories to gain pity and the spotlight, only for those around her to figure out she's been lying each time, she's not an outcast either. A person cannot be an outcast if (s)he continuously behaves in such a manner as to send people packing.
A little common sense goes a long way. Do you enjoy being stuck with the bill because a specific friend repeatedly "forgets" his/her wallet each time you go out? Probably not. In fact, I'd go so far to say that after you've paid so much for his/her dinners/recreational activities, you'd stop going out together. So before you make your next move of forcing your "friend" into paying your bill, refusing to say thank you for that elaborate Christmas gift your Great Aunt Gertrude gave you or making your cousin feel two inches tall because something good happened to him and you're jealous, think to yourself, "Self, does this make me look like a
Sunday, July 17, 2011
On the Hunt
I'm feeling like a predator searching out my prey. Luke and I recently received a letter from our apartment office informing us our rent is going up $200/month at the signing of a new lease. For what we currently pay, we could already get a 2 bedroom townhome instead of a two bedroom apartment. For less than what they want us to pay, we can get a 3 bedroom townhome instead of an apartment.
I just like to take this moment to say apartment complexes are the devil. I've now rented from one landlord and two housing offices. I much prefer the landlord. I feel a little bit bad for all of the people I referred to live here. I was so happy to be leaving the last place (where we were gutted even more than we are now) that this seemed like paradise. The shimmer is quickly fading as our rent begins to sky-rocket. I'm still trying to figure out how our rental company thinks the rent needs to increase, especially by $200, when the housing market is taking a hit in our area, yet again. I'm entirely confused.
Needless to say, we're on the prowl for a new place. Today, we are looking at our first townhome. I'm a little nervous since a lot of the cities/neighborhoods in the area can go from upscale to scary in about 10 feet but I'm hopeful. The place we're looking at today sounds AMAZING. Seriously, who doesn't want a jacuzzi and a fireplace? We'll be a little farther from a few people than I wanted to be but closer than I thought we would be if we move to a different community. And we'll have more room. With a baby on the way, more room is a BIG plus. I know if we moved into a townhome in this community, the electric bills are only (on average) $10/month more than what we currently pay (crazy, right? I mean, these townhomes are generally 3 floors that need to be cooled and ours is all of 1 floor of 1200 sq. ft). So here's to hoping the townhome is in a nicer area and the electric bill isn't bordering insane on a monthly basis. And that our potential landlord is willing to wait until mid-September for us to move in or that our current "landlord" is willing to allow us to terminate our lease early so we can move and be settled before I'm due. Right now, we're looking at a lease termination date of October 22nd and a due date of October 25th. Please, God, let these people be understanding!
EDIT/UPDATE:
We decided place #1 was a no go since it was about 10 feet (okay, not really. More like 2 blocks) from one of the neighborhoods that are off-limits to military personnel. I figure if the area is so bad that Luke could get in trouble for missing his turn and getting shot while turning around in the (insert term of choice for rundown housing area), it's probably not the place to raise a child.
I just like to take this moment to say apartment complexes are the devil. I've now rented from one landlord and two housing offices. I much prefer the landlord. I feel a little bit bad for all of the people I referred to live here. I was so happy to be leaving the last place (where we were gutted even more than we are now) that this seemed like paradise. The shimmer is quickly fading as our rent begins to sky-rocket. I'm still trying to figure out how our rental company thinks the rent needs to increase, especially by $200, when the housing market is taking a hit in our area, yet again. I'm entirely confused.
Needless to say, we're on the prowl for a new place. Today, we are looking at our first townhome. I'm a little nervous since a lot of the cities/neighborhoods in the area can go from upscale to scary in about 10 feet but I'm hopeful. The place we're looking at today sounds AMAZING. Seriously, who doesn't want a jacuzzi and a fireplace? We'll be a little farther from a few people than I wanted to be but closer than I thought we would be if we move to a different community. And we'll have more room. With a baby on the way, more room is a BIG plus. I know if we moved into a townhome in this community, the electric bills are only (on average) $10/month more than what we currently pay (crazy, right? I mean, these townhomes are generally 3 floors that need to be cooled and ours is all of 1 floor of 1200 sq. ft). So here's to hoping the townhome is in a nicer area and the electric bill isn't bordering insane on a monthly basis. And that our potential landlord is willing to wait until mid-September for us to move in or that our current "landlord" is willing to allow us to terminate our lease early so we can move and be settled before I'm due. Right now, we're looking at a lease termination date of October 22nd and a due date of October 25th. Please, God, let these people be understanding!
EDIT/UPDATE:
We decided place #1 was a no go since it was about 10 feet (okay, not really. More like 2 blocks) from one of the neighborhoods that are off-limits to military personnel. I figure if the area is so bad that Luke could get in trouble for missing his turn and getting shot while turning around in the (insert term of choice for rundown housing area), it's probably not the place to raise a child.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Desperate HomeFolks
NEWS FLASH
If you are desperate and wanting to get married, oh, say, 5 days ago, you probably aren't going to find sexy prince(ss) charming to come sweeping in and rescue you from your lonesome life. I'm not saying there is anything wrong with wanting to be married and settled down but you can't be desperate and super picky, either. Beggars can't be choosers.
Ladies:
You can't go around acting like a Grade A Certified Hoochie and complain when guys want nothing but the horizontal polka (to use Steve Urkle's famous phrase. C'mon now, you know you loved Family Matters when you were a kid). Slip back into your pants, zip them up and make sure you aren't spilling out. A properly fitting shirt never hurt anyone, either.
Men:
If you look like a hillbilly, you are not very likely to find a hot woman who's life goal is to be at your beck and call. If you're the hottest man on earth, the only reason you'll be able to find one is because some magazine or agent has already picked you up and has flown you to Korea or Vietnam on your world tour and the chick you met there will do anything for a green card. Take off the camo, leave your chew at home, shave, buy yourself a decent pair of jeans and a nice collared shirt and learn to speak like you graduated the 6th grade. If that doesn't sound like you, ditch the stupid hat, shave, pull your pants up and buy yourself a properly fitting belt. They work wonders for keeping your nether regions covered when worn correctly. Trust me, no one wants to see your crack or your sack. Didn't your momma teach you crack kills?
All Genders:
If you are ugly, don't hold your potential spouse to a higher standard than you hold yourself to/appear to be. Learn to shave, buy some deodorant, join a gym, do whatever it takes to help yourself aside from plastic surgery but don't expect Megan Fox/Brad Pitt to be begging for your affection if you look like the Ugly Fairy kicked your face in and then came back for seconds. Be smart. Love comes in all shapes, sizes and covers. You should know... Just sayin'
If you are desperate and wanting to get married, oh, say, 5 days ago, you probably aren't going to find sexy prince(ss) charming to come sweeping in and rescue you from your lonesome life. I'm not saying there is anything wrong with wanting to be married and settled down but you can't be desperate and super picky, either. Beggars can't be choosers.
Ladies:
You can't go around acting like a Grade A Certified Hoochie and complain when guys want nothing but the horizontal polka (to use Steve Urkle's famous phrase. C'mon now, you know you loved Family Matters when you were a kid). Slip back into your pants, zip them up and make sure you aren't spilling out. A properly fitting shirt never hurt anyone, either.
Men:
If you look like a hillbilly, you are not very likely to find a hot woman who's life goal is to be at your beck and call. If you're the hottest man on earth, the only reason you'll be able to find one is because some magazine or agent has already picked you up and has flown you to Korea or Vietnam on your world tour and the chick you met there will do anything for a green card. Take off the camo, leave your chew at home, shave, buy yourself a decent pair of jeans and a nice collared shirt and learn to speak like you graduated the 6th grade. If that doesn't sound like you, ditch the stupid hat, shave, pull your pants up and buy yourself a properly fitting belt. They work wonders for keeping your nether regions covered when worn correctly. Trust me, no one wants to see your crack or your sack. Didn't your momma teach you crack kills?
All Genders:
If you are ugly, don't hold your potential spouse to a higher standard than you hold yourself to/appear to be. Learn to shave, buy some deodorant, join a gym, do whatever it takes to help yourself aside from plastic surgery but don't expect Megan Fox/Brad Pitt to be begging for your affection if you look like the Ugly Fairy kicked your face in and then came back for seconds. Be smart. Love comes in all shapes, sizes and covers. You should know... Just sayin'
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Jeremiah 29:11
I've heard the song "Blessings" by Laura Story so many times before, I'm sure, but I just really heard it for the very first time. Maybe it's because, though I can find the application for my own life, it's years passed but the recent events in the lives of two people I feel a deep connection with definitely bring the application back home. Facing a situation where you are suffering loss or know there is potential to suffer loss can be the hardest times ever but God promises His faithfulness in Jeremiah 29:11, "For I know the thoughts I have toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you future and hope."
Remembering God's plan is the best plan isn't always easy. More often than not it's easier said than done but having been through what I felt (at the time) was hell on earth, I can honestly say there is a silver lining that we can look to when living those dark times. It's such a comfort to know that regardless of the outcome, you are in the best hands.
A loving God could never keep His children from life's struggles. How could we ever learn to rely fully on Him if everything we ever wanted were handed on a silver platter? A perfect world is not conducive to learning lessons, we need all of the negative in order to move forward in our spiritual lives and give us a better connection with our Creator. We don't go through struggles because God's forgotten us, we go through struggles because He loves us.
Remembering God's plan is the best plan isn't always easy. More often than not it's easier said than done but having been through what I felt (at the time) was hell on earth, I can honestly say there is a silver lining that we can look to when living those dark times. It's such a comfort to know that regardless of the outcome, you are in the best hands.
A loving God could never keep His children from life's struggles. How could we ever learn to rely fully on Him if everything we ever wanted were handed on a silver platter? A perfect world is not conducive to learning lessons, we need all of the negative in order to move forward in our spiritual lives and give us a better connection with our Creator. We don't go through struggles because God's forgotten us, we go through struggles because He loves us.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Post 1
Yea, so I couldn't come up with a more creative title for my first post. And what? And no, I wasn't born in '92. I'm not telling you when I was born, either. You'll survive. I'm sure not everything that I write will make you double over in laughter but my life is pretty crazy and my ramblings can be pretty random. Besides, living away from home, your family always wants updates. Isn't it much easier when you don't have to talk on the phone. I hate loathe talking on the phone... Passionately. I'm not really awesome at keeping up with these things but I'll put forth some kind of effort. Allow me this moment to remind you, I said "some kind of effort." That means if I think about updating, I've fulfilled my promise. Don't forget that part. I have an excuse and I'm milking it for all it's worth... Placenta Brain. The best thing that's happened in pregnancy since Adam and Eve. Don't believe me? Ask anyone who is knocked up. It's almost like amnesia only better because you can "remember" some things and conveniently "forget" others and no one will know when you've genuinely forgotten something from when you're milking the symptom.
Pushing forward with the blogging adventure
Allow me to take a moment to say I am extremely opinionated. I will only voice my opinions in what can be described as "offensive" manner when I feel passionately about something. Today will be one of those days. See, I have this issue that's been bothering me for about a week now. Okay, it's been more like 2 years but it's only really begun to irritate me to the point of wanting an outlet for about a week. That issue comes in the form of the Pez Dispenser Momma. We'll call her a PDM. A PDM is a woman who refuses to attend college or get a job (seriously, even McDonalds would help), can't afford life, chooses to suck up the measly paycheck her husband makes by eating out and shopping on a daily basis, might be on some form of Welfare, wants to throw her kids into some form of state/gov't funded daycare (despite not having a job or attending college) and yet pops out babies like she's a Pez Dispenser and kids are her candy. I don't feel like any hardworking American citizen should pay their tax dollars for her food stamps when she goes out to eat 2-3 times a day (on credit card), just adding to the 20+ thousand dollars of debt she's already racked up, especially considering tax dollars pay Planned Parenthood to provide free and severely discounted birth control. If you're feeling slightly offended right now, it's probably because you or someone you love is a PDM. Please find the nearest clinic, grab yourself (or your loved one) some free condoms or pills and stop procreating. If you find yourself wondering if I'm talking to you, please see above criteria. Do you fit it? Before you get your panties in a knot, not every pregnant woman on some form of welfare qualifies as a PDM just like not every stay home mom (SHM) qualifies as a PDM. Before you become irrationally upset with my rant, consider the struggles that so many women face trying to conceive or maintain a pregnancy. It doesn't come easy to everyone. Popping out babies like Orville Redenbacher pops out fluffy, white kernels of deliciousness only to squander the $2500/month your husband brings home on McDonalds, Taco Bell and new clothes while your children sit in their gov't funded daycare program because you don't want to be bothered by them while you munch on your nachos and shop for a new pair of maternity pants because you threw all the others away after your last pregnancy since they'd be "out of style" by the next year when you got pregnant again is kind of extremely offensive. Now before you go out and buy yourself a triple chocolate ice cream cone because you're craving it and I made you cry, think about how blessed you are to have been able to get pregnant and maintain a pregnancy without medical intervention. Life doesn't go that way for everyone. Now go love on your kids. Some women would do just about anything to have the opportunity to sit down and read their baby a bedtime story or teach him/her to bake cookies. Don't waste yours.
Pushing forward with the blogging adventure
Allow me to take a moment to say I am extremely opinionated. I will only voice my opinions in what can be described as "offensive" manner when I feel passionately about something. Today will be one of those days. See, I have this issue that's been bothering me for about a week now. Okay, it's been more like 2 years but it's only really begun to irritate me to the point of wanting an outlet for about a week. That issue comes in the form of the Pez Dispenser Momma. We'll call her a PDM. A PDM is a woman who refuses to attend college or get a job (seriously, even McDonalds would help), can't afford life, chooses to suck up the measly paycheck her husband makes by eating out and shopping on a daily basis, might be on some form of Welfare, wants to throw her kids into some form of state/gov't funded daycare (despite not having a job or attending college) and yet pops out babies like she's a Pez Dispenser and kids are her candy. I don't feel like any hardworking American citizen should pay their tax dollars for her food stamps when she goes out to eat 2-3 times a day (on credit card), just adding to the 20+ thousand dollars of debt she's already racked up, especially considering tax dollars pay Planned Parenthood to provide free and severely discounted birth control. If you're feeling slightly offended right now, it's probably because you or someone you love is a PDM. Please find the nearest clinic, grab yourself (or your loved one) some free condoms or pills and stop procreating. If you find yourself wondering if I'm talking to you, please see above criteria. Do you fit it? Before you get your panties in a knot, not every pregnant woman on some form of welfare qualifies as a PDM just like not every stay home mom (SHM) qualifies as a PDM. Before you become irrationally upset with my rant, consider the struggles that so many women face trying to conceive or maintain a pregnancy. It doesn't come easy to everyone. Popping out babies like Orville Redenbacher pops out fluffy, white kernels of deliciousness only to squander the $2500/month your husband brings home on McDonalds, Taco Bell and new clothes while your children sit in their gov't funded daycare program because you don't want to be bothered by them while you munch on your nachos and shop for a new pair of maternity pants because you threw all the others away after your last pregnancy since they'd be "out of style" by the next year when you got pregnant again is kind of extremely offensive. Now before you go out and buy yourself a triple chocolate ice cream cone because you're craving it and I made you cry, think about how blessed you are to have been able to get pregnant and maintain a pregnancy without medical intervention. Life doesn't go that way for everyone. Now go love on your kids. Some women would do just about anything to have the opportunity to sit down and read their baby a bedtime story or teach him/her to bake cookies. Don't waste yours.
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