Guh... goals.

This is what I used to look like.



That's not the same as my face now.
I'd show you a picture, but I don't appear in pictures anymore.

I'd like to fix that.

One way I'm trying- replacing one (sometimes two) meals a day with fresh, raw veggies & fruit blended in my mom's old VitaMix. It's delicious and filling, so it's a start. I've found that I don't do anything well when I plunge in- burnout is a real thing. I've been making small, healthy changes a little bit at a time, and I'm hoping that at some point it will make a difference. I haven't lost weight yet, but I'm not exercising enough. It seems like I can either eat right or exercise, but not both. Maybe I can change that too, a little bit at a time.

Random fact about me: besides the immediate weight loss when I had Daniel, I've never lost weight before. Ever. It's pretty discouraging, but I think I can change. I'm getting a physical soon to rule out thyroid stuff, so we'll see how that goes.

I'm going to try to blog as I try to change my lifestyle- cross your fingers for me!
(p.s. to Star Wars fans-- I know, there is no try, only do.)

Nervous

My good friend is in the hospital today, being treated for viral meningitis, but being tested for listeria & other things. She's 14ish weeks pregnant, and this is really scary. Life & friends & babies are so precious.

Will you pray with me?

Soup

I'm not sure what it is about turkey soup in particular, but every time I make it I feel like a wonderful wife & mother. Maybe it's something about using every bit of an animal & using so many vegetables that have been in the fridge for a while-- it makes me happy to not waste anything. Maybe it's knowing that I'm making something nutritious that's also stinkin' tasty. I love being able to customize the recipe for what we like-- lots of carrots & onions for jake, extra rosemary & garlic for me.
There's just something so homey about making a big pot of soup on a chilly day. I love knowing that we'll be able to eat this for several days (including when Dan & I are out of town, so Jake will feel my love from far away), and we'll be able to have good, good food in the freezer for a lazy day.

I sound like Susie-freakin-Homemaker, but this makes me happy. :) I wish you all could come over to smell this & share the love.

Wanderlust

I'm tired tonight. It's not a good tired, from a day well spent, or a bad tired, when the day was just too much. Just tired. I feel like I have nothing left to give the world tonight. I know I will feel better tomorrow, so in a way it is a good kind of tired, not the dark kind.

I was thinking back about old times today, before I had anything planned out. How free I must have felt, once upon a time. I don't remember it now.

I love my life. I love my husband, my sweet baby, and the little life we've built for ourselves here. I love that we're expanding and growing and meeting new people and doing new things. I firmly believe that the grass is greener here, but sometimes remembering how it used to be stirs up old feelings of restlessness and a little bit of empty mourning for the way things might have been. What if I had gone to Europe that semester? What if I had moved to Portland when I wanted to and had nothing to stop me? What if I had ignored my fears and actually done something, experienced more things?

I'm so glad I have my two sweet men to experience this beautiful life with. I just wish I had fought past my inherent timidity to do things on my own, just so that I'd know I was capable of it. Places I go now and many things I'll experience will be riding on the coattails of someone else's force of personality. I wouldn't change where we are now for anything, but I do wish I knew if I could have done more.

I want to go exploring.

This I believe:

I found an old school assignment in some papers today. I think it's worth revisiting.

This I Believe:

I am saved by grace, through Jesus Christ, the son of & part of God.

He loves unconditionally, and there is nothing I can do to increase or lessen his love for me.

I am called to glorify God in everything I do: writing, music, poetry, love, and every other aspect of life.

Genuinely caring about people makes life sweeter & makes the world around us a better place.

The proverbial little things in life make more difference than big things. That, or they make the big things important.

Love conquers all.

Truth is revolutionary, and often painful, but is eventually essential to true happiness and living in the fullest sense of the word.

Passion is important, essential even, but only when directed toward something real, important, or beautiful. Misdirected passion is an ugly, dangerous thing, as opposed to a dangerous & beautiful thing.

Emotion must be balanced with thought.

Responsibility and duty are extremely important to a fulfilling life. They are noble and are mainstays of good character.

Music touches the soul like nothing else can do.

Self-expression is essential for originality, but originality should very rarely be a goal in & of itself. Being yourself, original or not, is what is important.

Through God, all things work out to be good for those who trust & follow him, whether the good is in this life or the next.

Love is the most important thing in the world, and should be behind everything we do: the motivating force.

It's okay to change who you are, if it's for your betterment.

Most of American culture is crap.

Family should be our foundation only if Christ is the cornerstone.

People are people, regardless of race, culture, religion, sex, sexual orientation, social status, etc., and as such, should be treated with respect.

Not agreeing with someone does not justify violence or even anger towards them.

I believe in defending the weak & helpless, putting others before myself, and trying to live in humility and peace.

Sometimes peace isn't possible because the right thing must be done.

Action = Life, Silence = Death.

It is possible to be a conservative Libertarian, bleeding heart liberal, and a tiny bit anarchist all at the same time.

The ideas and love of Christ are more revolutionary than any other this world has seen.

Innocence is not the same thing as naivete.

Nothing is so strong as gentleness. Nothing is so gentle as real strength.

'Kind' is a much stronger word than 'nice'. Kindness implies strength with gentleness, power with caring. I believe that this is an important distinction, and that kindness is an essential way of life.

Ruts

I'm reading a book called the curious incident of the dog in the night-time. It's brilliant.

It's reminding me of what it's like to think hard and not fall into life's rut of complacency. I've fallen into several ruts in the recent 'seasons' of my life (PS, I HATE when people call times 'seasons', because it sounds like christianeze and I hate that. It makes me very uncomfortable and feel disconnected from the world and it feels like the person saying it is trying to sound better than you, so I'm sorry for using it).

The first rut began when I started working at AMN and was surrounded by people who didn't try to improve their lives- just glided along the surface of life and didn't care to find anything more. Part of my problem is that I need to be around stimulating people who inspire me, or else I grow insipid and stop caring to connect. This could be the Christian idea of community, or it could be my narcissistic tendency to need to impress people to make them like me. Everyone at AMN was impressed by my basic desire to do my job well. I don't think this is impressive- it's just how life should work. You work hard to improve yourself and your surroundings, because without that, why are do you even bother working? I know plenty of people who get by without trying. They aren't changing the world.

The first rut was the deepest (ha). The second rut was having a baby. I'm working hard still to raise him well, but again, it doesn't take much to impress a baby. Keep him clean & fed, give him lots of face time and be happy with his accomplishments, and he's happy.

My wonderful, poor, dear husband has enough to deal with trying to support us and take care of family business and make it day-to-day. I should depend on him more for stimulation, but he's so exhausted in the 2ish hours I see him each day that we're content to love each other deeply with what we have left.

Without community, I find that I stop trying as hard. Our growth group only meets once a week. As stimulating as my newfound pleasure in MOPS is, it only meets once every other week. I don't have anyone who spurs me on to daily try hard, be creative, and really think.

I have friends that inspire me, but we don't talk often enough. Lucy, Pieter, MandyB, Jonathan Hines, and others delight and elicit my brain to wake from it's plodding-along-to-get-by to really creating original, interesting, & different thoughts that make life beautiful.

Being Jake's wife is one of the primary highlights of my life. He makes me want to be a better person on a daily basis, and is always encouraging. He thinks I'm funny and witty and sweet, and that means the world to me. I want to remember how to appreciate him for his brilliance and vibrancy and keen understanding of the world around us, but we're always so bogged down by life's worries that our good bits get lost, sometimes.

So, basically, I want three things. One: to depend on Christ for my inspiration and motivation to become better every day. Two: to be near to friends who inspire me to read new things and write creatively and sing and paint and explore and live, and teach Daniel to do the same. Three: to move north- to somewhere that the sun isn't so obtrusive & painful, where the world is green and the sky is grey and Dan and I can go outside without fear.

It could happen, right?

One slice o' paradise, coming right up

So we three are in Ventura this week hanging out with Isaac & Brenna while my MIL is in CO at a conference. We arrived last night around 10, and stayed up chatting until 11. Dan slept the entire car ride & was thoroughly woken up when we got here, so we couldn't get him to sleep until almost midnight. He then woke up at 1AM, and stayed awake and crying until 4. We slept until 6:30AM... and that's all. I think today I need to watch out for the "mommy monster" that Jake always warns Dan about...

Even with the lack of sleep, though, I'm happy to be here. Daniel and I went for a walk this morning, and I was so struck by the differences between here and Escondido. Forgive me for waxing poetic, but for the first time in a great while, I'm feeling inspired.

In Ventura, my MIL's house faces a river bottom. As we walked along the path across the street, my senses were filled with the smells of spruce trees, freshly turned dirt- moist & rich, freshly cut grass baking in the warm sun. More delicious smells that I have no name for drift up from the farmland alongside the river bottom, where the sun & wind together create a soul-thrilling perfume. I heard birds chirping madly & gladly in the bushes & trees, bees swarming (eek!) in the trees above my head, fellow wandering souls giving cheery (& non-threatening) hellos & good mornings. My heart was filled with joy overflowing as I watched the world around me. A ring of mountains around us, strong and ageless, trees old enough to be tall, strong, & glad in their might. I have to tilt my head all the way back to see their dizzying heights with the bees & birds in their uppermost branches. Dogs run free along the path, giddy with chasing & returning toys. A cool breeze balances the warm sun, and I feel all of the joy that I've been missing in our crowded, bustling, walled-in city.

I realize that this romanticizing isn't necessarily realistic- the gap in socioeconomic statuses of these neighborhoods is wide, but I don't think that the money factor is the only difference, not by a long shot. Here there are somewhat large single family homes, and we live in a condo complex where apartments have 2 bedrooms each. The difference that I noticed on my walk today, though- these houses are well kept. Trees & shrubs are trimmed, walkways are clean, the grass is cut, there isn't trash everywhere or gum & glass on the sidewalk or graffiti covering every surface. In San Diego, many 2br condos have 6-10 people crowded in, all of whom are apparently hell-bent on destroying their own neighborhood. Trash piles upon the porches. Lights that Jake dutifully fixes around the complex are broken as soon as they're repaired, much the same way that graffiti covers the freshly painted fences, walls, & garage doors that he just covered to erase the foul language & stupid symbols. While out painting & fixing lights (all on public areas of the complex) Jake has had the police called on him 3 times. The police show up 15 minutes later, confusedly asking Jake why he's cleaning up the neighborhood, & if he's being paid to do it (he's not). Any time that I go for a walk around our neighborhood at home, I'm made uncomfortable by people staring, crossing to the other side of the street to avoid me, or aggressively maintaining eye contact & forcing me & the stroller off of the sidewalk because they won't move (ftr, I hate wanna-be thugs in their teens & twenties).

Jake is always telling me that I'm the compassionate bleeding-heart in our relationship, leaving him free to be the asshole. :) I love people- I really do. I just don't want to be penned in & walled up & crowded with them on a regular basis. The elephant races held in the apartment above ours at all hours of the day & night irritate me more than I can say, but I couldn't ask them to tiptoe around their own home or keep their toddler from running and bouncing balls and playing in his own room. It's just one of those things that comes with the territory of living below a family of 7 (who also run a daycare).

As much as I love people, I feel the need to live in less proximity to so many of them. I need to breathe air not filled with car exhaust, to see mountains, to touch trees that are big & old & joyful in their strength, to hear outside noises like birds and wind and occasional silence. There are no mountains near me at home. Trees are young and sickly and penned in like the children who play in the back alley. The sounds we hear are of the busy intersection, the families yelling, the teenagers fighting on their walks home from school, circling each other on the corner while their classmates jeer & cheer them on.

Jake & Daniel make the inside of our house a wonderful, homey slice of heaven, but we can't step outside without being reminded that we're not welcome there. We've tried to make friends with our neighbors, but no one is interested. I know that we need to bless the world around us, but we're both people who love quiet & peace, and we both need time alone (and I mean really alone) to recharge & be available to the people around us.

All of this to say, I guess, that I'd give just about anything to live here. I know we couldn't afford one of these houses, but a smaller place nearby and walks with my MIL in her quiet neighborhood sound delightful. Besides- moving to Ventura would be closer to where I want to be. Say it with me if you know me: NORTH!

4 months

Sometimes I put off blogging because I feel guilty that I haven't done it in so long. Today, after a long battle for nap time with Daniel, I want to get something, anything out. I know he'll wake up in a few minutes (we had the quite the battle to start nap time), but I think it's important to document this crazy, beautiful, sleep-deprived time. I already can't remember things from the 2 weeks after Dan was born-- although I think the c-section recovery, vicodin and 4 hours of sleep per night may have played a part in that.

We're getting to the point of sleep training with Daniel. Jake wanted to start it earlier, but I was being sentimental about how little he was and how dark and scary the world is (lol). I know (knew) that I was being silly, especially since I was frustrated night after night with how we needed to pat his little butt for an hour, and then again when he woke up during the night. I figure of all the things to be silly about, though, loving him too much isn't going to hurt him. He's just now exhibiting signs of knowing that he can manipulate us with crying, fake coughing, etc. As sad as I am to get to this point, it's amazing to see how clearly the light bulb turns on for him when he figures out something new.

I think that's one of my favorite parts of mommyhood- seeing him discover the world, and in the process rediscovering it for myself. Did you know that little crocodiles on a blanket have 10-minutes of stare-worthiness in them? Who knew? And the grass (okay, weeds) growing in the front yard, dancing in the cold wind are delightful to watch for as long as chilly fingers & cheeks can stand it.

I love how bright his eyes light up when he discovers something new, or when he sees me watching him push up. I clap and cheer for how strong he is, and he smiles a giant, gummy grin, occasionally breaking out into a little crow of delight and bigger push up.

There's nothing in the world like the light reflected as he stares at us with owl-eyed examination. I read in a book once a baby's eyes described as "orbs of light", and that sounds exactly right to me. Deep, intent, dark blue orbs reflecting the pure light within. I'm finally understanding again the innocence of children.

I'm also seeing human nature in fine form. His temper tantrums are rare so far (of course, he's not even 5 months yet), but they are definitely there. The fit of temper when we lay him down in his crib is funny so far- he kicks and screams with baby rage... and then eventually quiets down when he gets his paci. Jake saw a pacifier once that said "mute button". At the time we thought it was inappropriate... until we had a baby who wouldn't stop crying until we gave him a paci. Silly non-parents and their crazy ideals! I had so many theories on child-rearing before I had a baby. I still do, but now I can see how things change.

I have so much love for my sleep-hating, active & engaging child. I think he's like me, so far. We both need lots of attention/socialization (hey, I'm admitting it!), a routine, and time outside avoiding the sun. He's like Jake, too. He seems to be mechanically minded already, solemn, and a little bit angry. It's delightful!

I'm so happy on this journey. I'm even happier because I got a mini-date with Jake last night. The love of my life had a very rough week, but I enjoyed the time we had to tease each other, eat ice cream, and talk about the wonderful & terrifying turn our life has taken. So he's not on the way to becoming the CFO of a Fortune 500 company, and my ambitions have shifted to being a good mother instead of a good therapist. I'm happy. I'll be happier when I can work in writing & friends & music, but for now, I'm focused. I hope he'll be able to find a fulfilling job soon, especially since struggling to afford to live in a city we don't even like is stupid.

We are blessed- God is good. I'm so happy with my sweet little family.

Pictures!

Dan is the sweetest baby in the world! I love his gummy smile and the occasional laugh we squeeze out of him. :)
Here's Dan and Abby, Mike and Amy's 6 month old.


Here's Dan's surprised face... I tend to get this a lot when I'm taking pictures of him!


Dan and Jake watching the Steelers game is the cutest thing in the world!


Dan and I took a trip up to Julian (San Diego's Oak Glen)


His sweet half-smile is my favorite thing.



And he's getting really good at grasping things! He loves chewing on this teething butterfly.



Speaking of sweet babies, he's waking up from his 20 minute nap... guh. Off I go! If tucking the pacifier back in doesn't work, we've got a long day ahead of us.

Pressing on

I've been meaning to post for months, but babies are hard! I never seem to find time. Sometimes while feeding Dan in the middle of the night I plan out blogs, thinking of what I'll say to document my baby's brilliance, milestones, and thousand sweetnesses. Only now, when he's almost 12 weeks and the house is finally quiet, am I managing to post even one update. Such is life, I guess!

The first months were very difficult. Sleep deprivation, colic, and lack of confidence made everything seem worse than it was. I went from calmly, kindly, logically explaining to Daniel why he shouldn't be crying for hours on end to laughing at myself for trying to sobbing hysterically to match his crying. Trying to get him ready and out the door for church, grocery shopping, and bible study made me quake in my new mommy boots (I say that as past tense... but it's still terrifying). Now, as he's about to hit the 3 month mark and pass from newborn to infant, few things have really changed. Laundry and dishes take days of planning and failed attempts to accomplish. My house is a mess as the normal clutter is buried under soggy burp cloths and attempted tasks (like thank you cards and birth announcements) that keep piling up. The one significant difference is my budding confidence that I might actually be able to do this!

I am so amazed by my friends with older babies. How the heck have you all managed to make it look so easy? Or my dear SIL Jenn, who has FOUR beautiful children, and manages to keep them entertained, learning, and yes, flourishing.

My lack of confidence is what really got me. Were (are) we making the right decisions? Why does he spit up so much? Why is there poop everywhere? How the hell are you supposed to know if a baby has diarrhea when every bm looks like soup? I feel like my capacity for worry (which was huge before) has grown as exponentially as my capacity for patience and love.

I am definitely becoming a better person as I learn how to be Dan's mama. Even in small things, I'm working harder to be the example of the person I want Daniel to be. I put shopping carts back in the corrals, spit gum into the trash, stopped littering, and re-hang clothes I bump over in department stores every time! As Lucy says, it's the little things we do that mean anything.

Daniel is getting smarter, stronger, and sweeter every day. Seeing Jake interact with him is making me fall in love with my husband in new, deeper ways. There is nothing in the world like my little family. As I go through each new day, even in the worry and hard work and occasional loneliness, four words echo over and over in my head- God is so good.

Mommyhood thus far

Daniel is here! He was born at 11:35am on Wednesday, August 18th by c-section. He was 9lbs. 6oz, and was 20.5 inches long. He is the sweetest little bundle of joy I've ever seen, and SO handsome.

Labor sucked (kinda), and here's the story: I had a non-stress test Monday morning, where they determined that the amniotic fluid was low. Anything under 5cm they send to the hospital, and I only had 1.5, so she sent us to Palomar to have me admitted and induced right away. We went to the hospital, where the doctor started me on Cervadil, which is supposed to gently induce labor in 12ish hours... I did that twice. I was so tired and stressed out, with IVs and monitors everywhere, and not able to eat anything. Tuesday afternoon (remember that I checked in at 10am Monday morning), the doctor decided to give me an epidural and start Pitocin. They did this all night, but there were like 3 times in the next 12 hours that Daniel had latent decelerations (heartbeat slowed way down), so after this happened the 3rd time they decided I needed a c-section before it turned into an emergency situation. I thank God that I didn't know how serious these decelerations were- I was stressed out and terrified enough. I guess I should have known by the 6 nurses and 2 doctors who came in at one point, but I just thought it was because my nurse was new... lol. God bless the dummies like me.
The c-section itself was terrible. They added a stronger drug to my epidural, but I felt a lot of the procedure. "Tugging and pressure" my ass, dude. I felt the whole thing. Next baby, we're doing a spinal block or general anesthesia, because that was crap. When they took me into the OR, Jake was told to wait by the door, and they'd get him in 10-15 minutes. They didn't end up bringing him in for 45 minutes, which was terrifying for both of us. At one point I actually thought that they started without him. Jake was so wonderful the entire time, though. He was brave and strong when I couldn't be, and he made me feel so much better, even when my incessant shaking and crying were terrifying him. I've always known that he's the most wonderful man in the world, and this confirmed it even more.

I'm so glad that the whole thing is over and Daniel is here, safe and sound and strong. The fear that comes with love this strong is crazy. I wanted so badly for him to arrive safely!

I'm healing pretty well from the c-section. I swear the tape that they used for all of the bandages and dressings were/are far worse to remove than the staples were. I had 18 staples removed last week, and I felt a bit of a twinge with each one. The tape residue is still on me, and I can't get it off with anything. I've used lotion, soap, rubbing alcohol, oil, and plain old picking at it, but I'm still covered in sticky residue. I also have 25+ Steri Strips across my incision which aren't coming off, and I am NOT inclined to just rip them off. My skin was cut clean through!! It was already back together, why should I have to rip tape off of it?! Boo.

So Daniel is 2 weeks old today. He has so much personality already! His big, bright eyes follow Jake around the room (as far as he can see), and he knits his little eyebrows together in concentration to figure out faces. He has beautiful little hands with long fingers, and he can't keep them from curling up by his face. He likes a pacifier sometimes (not often), but only when his tummy is full, butt is clean, body is swaddled and he feels well-snuggled. He doesn't cry much (I know, I'm jinxing it--but he's proving that statement wrong today already!). He loves to be held, and today he's only interested in sleeping if it's in my arms. I love snuggling his warm little body and watching his sweet face, though. He is SO handsome! I know I'm prejudiced, but I truly believe that he is the cutest little man that has ever been born. He's very aware and active, and I love watching his bright eyes process all of the new things happening in the world around him.

He seems to like it when I sing to him, but I can't for the life of me think of any songs when I'm holding him. We're stuck on a rotation of 'Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing' (the 3 verses I remember) and 'How Great Thou Art' (only the first verse). I love both of these hymns, but it would be nice to switch it up. Any suggestions?

So anyway, the moral of the story is: I love Daniel with my whole heart, and I love being his mommy. I do NOT like the process of having babies. There is only one good thing about the whole process, and it is not appropriate to discuss publicly. Like Jake says, it's hard to find anything good about being a girl... lol. But since being a girl gives me the privilege of taking care of this little bundle of joy and potential, I guess I'm resigned to it. As it turns out, God knows what He's about. :)

Dan is so precious! He's a funny, handsome, red-and-white little man. I can't decide if his hair is red or brown or blonde- it changes in every light, but always with red undertones. He has beautiful ears, and overall looks just like his papa. Jake doesn't think Dan looks too much like him, but definitely thinks he looks familiar. We saw Dan for the first time and recognized him immediately. Of course he's ours! I did have the strangest feeling for a week that he wasn't mine, though. I wasn't able to do much with him because of my c-section, so he felt like a stranger for a little while. Again, Jake came to the rescue and helped me figure everything out. I'm so blessed to be married to that man!

Uh-oh! my little man is waking up. He hasn't slept more than 30 minutes in his crib today, since he evidently prefers that I don't clean the house (sorry, Jake!). Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go cherish his snuggly little warm body and bright eyes, and pray my hardest that he doesn't turn into a colicky baby (for reals- I'm so skurred).

Oh, baby!

OMG... I'm having a baby sometime in the next 3 weeks. As excited as I am, that's a seriously terrifying thought. I accidentally read a book called Your Body After Baby... that was a bad idea. It's the scariest thing I've ever read. I've also been reading a lot on the Mayo Clinic website- it's super helpful to see what to expect, and how to make things feel better.

I'm really nervous about this. I'm really excited for Daniel, but I still feel a little bit like it isn't real. I can't imagine what it'll be like to have a child. I'm pretty worried already about postpartum depression, because the following describes how I'm feeling now (and my hormone levels haven't even dropped yet, nor am I sleep deprived):

"Emotional factors. When you're sleep deprived and overwhelmed, you may have trouble handling even minor problems. You may be anxious about your ability to care for a newborn. You may feel less attractive or struggle with your sense of identity. You may feel that you've lost control over your life. Any of these factors can contribute to postpartum depression."

My life is completely out of control. I'm not attractive and I have no idea who I am or how this baby fits in to who I am/will become. I know I need to trust God to handle this, but I don't know how to right now.

I'm really hoping that childbirth is like pregnancy- it sucks, but isn't as bad as I thought it'd be. Maybe my pessimism will end up being good? lol. Can it really be as bad as I'm expecting? (probably). I've never really been pessimistic before though, so I don't know how this is going to work out.

Mostly, the point of this blog is to say that I'm terrified. I love my son and I'm excited about our growing family. I know Jake wishes I'd focus on the positive, but I don't really know how from the perspective of my paralyzing terror. Childbirth sounds like something I can handle. Postpartum recovery, not so much.

I can't wait to meet Daniel, though. I can't wait to see what he's going to look like, what his little personality will be like, what kind of little person he'll grow to be. I'm so excited to hold him and kiss him and smell his sweet baby smell. I just wish I could do it all with my own body, and not the strange, torn, stretched out, engorged atrocity I'll be stuck in.

Ugh. I want to go home.

FTR (that's 'for the record', as Devyn would say), being pregnant isn't so bad when I'm not nauseated by everything or breaking out in hives all day. I love my midwife for allowing benedryl, because damn. I really thought I was going to die with those hives.

I've gone through so many things that I was "sure, this time" were causing the hives. I'm talking everything from laundry detergent, lotion, and deodorant to my vitamins, the food at work, and milk. I've cut out each of those things in turn, and to no avail... They keep happening. They almost look like bug bites, but there's no bite mark, no certain time that I break out, and no one else has them. Sometimes they disappear, and sometimes they linger as a rash-- either the same size as the original hive, or it spreads to an inch+ circle. It's so lame.

Sidenote-- I'm watching the Olympics again-- I'm not a fan of speed skating. It isn't fun and it stresses me out hardcore. They always look like they're going to fall, and I'm terrified the entire time that someone will fall and a skate will accidentally slice open a major artery or slice off a finger. I know that's morbid, but I've thought about it every winter that it's on, from when I was a kid. Ha, I'm a worrier by nature, what can I say?

I really need to make a few calls for work and get to bed. Love you all, and can't wait to see some of you this weekend!!

Early pregnancy rant

I'm so bad at posting!! I think about things I should blog throughout the day, but by the time I get home and make dinner and clean up a bit, I'm done.

I'm very distracted by the Olympics right now-- this crazy ice skating man is stressing me out. What's his name? Plushenko. Insane.

Anyway.. I was thinking a lot today about how little my current job and my personal goals fit together. I'm doing a lot of extra work because "it'll be good for my career," but I'm pretty much wasting my time as far as that goes. I need to learn how to say no, because they keep asking me to do stuff, and to consistently go 'above and beyond.' I like working hard and learning new things, which is why I keep saying yes, but I can't see a future here.

Here's the problem- my company is the furthest thing from family friendly there is... they don't pay maternity leave (and this is a big, national, publicly traded company), the hours aren't flexible at all, and working part time isn't even an option. I've been embarrassed by comments from several people, management included, who talk about children like they're they plague, and make it sound like people who want babies are crazy podunks. Time off is discouraged, and coming in late/leaving early is almost never okay, even if planned. It's so bad they could advertise to the young and hip as anti-family.

Everyone there expects me to hate being pregnant, hate starting a family, hate that I have to "give up" working for a few months... what?!!?!??!? Are you kidding me with that? Why would I be excited to leave my precious little person that God let Jake and I make to come back to a meaningless, mind-numbing, thankless job? Everyone keeps saying, "Wow, maternity leave seems so long! You'll want to come back before it's over so you can get on with life and get away from the screaming kid."

Umm... Okay? Because my life goal is to pop out a brat, send it on to daycare at the ripe old age of 6 weeks, wash my hands of it, and move on with my life! Right back in to a tiny, sunless cubicle where I make absolutely no difference in the world but climb the corporate ladder because I'm marginally smarter than the other idiots they hired. Right.

Jake and I have the luxury of each other in a strong, healthy relationship, so we'll be able to share work and home responsibilities- just not with me working a full-time 9-5. I guess it sounds weird in the corporate world, but I want my baby, and I want to be there to love it and help it grow into a big, strong, loving, smart person. I have the love and attention span to take care of something helpless. I don't care if my 'career' will be ruined- it wasn't really worth doing in the first place. I'm going to raise a loving and loved child who will know its parents and be happy in the knowledge that we love him/her and are there for (him) and have time for (her). Our child isn't going to be the afterthought if our lives, a trophy or check mark for life that we only play with when it's convenient. I'm making a person, and working damn hard at it, too.

My baby is a person. I love the lil' nugget, and I won't be looked down on for that.

P.S., I'm gonna be so super stoked when we find out what it is, and can stop referring to it as an it...

Life altering, to say the least

So... I'm making a baby (Jake helped)! It's a crazy, crazy thing that I haven't come anywhere close to wrapping my brain around.

There are so many different things going through my head right now, and my spinning thoughts have even slowed from last week when we found out. All of last week I could barely function because my brain was moving so fast, trying to figure out every angle of this pregnancy thing, and what it entails. Past, present,and future feel like a spinning kaleidoscope, and I can't seem to focus on any one thing.

Ha, I've used the word 'spinning' like 20 times already, but that's what it feels like (okay, I just edited a few out, only two left).

[10 minutes where I stare blankly at the screen]

Mmmm... my thoughts aren't organized enough to blog. Suffice it to say that I'm nauseated all the time, my lovely lady lumps hurt hardcore, and I want to sleep 12 hours a day. I hear the sleep thing gets way worse. I'm not stoked for that.

Ugh, okay. I'm done. Stay tuned, folks! I'm going to make a conscious effort to blog. I'm thinking I'll want to remember this stuff, and some out-of-towners might even be interested in hearing it. I'll try not to be too honest, for posterity's sake. :)

Peace.

Birfday!

I'm 23 today.

It's pretty sweet. I'm officially 2 years closer to getting a break on insurance and hotel rooms, and officially closer to dying.

Haha!

"And that's about the time that she walked away from me
Nobody likes you when you're 23
And are still more amused by TV shows
What the hell is ADD?
My friends say I should act my age
What's my age again?
What's my age again?"

Is it over yet? (Not even close)

Apparently I have a chronic issue remembering the password for this account... lame.

So, Nobama won the election today. I'm bummed, because he's disappointed me a lot. At first, I was all about him. His speeches and thoughts were brilliant and inspiring, he spoke for change and reform, and excited all of the optimism in me.

Aaand then-

He lies. He hides. His charm turns smarmy, and his calm becomes oddly robotic. He can't decide who his (powerful & influential) friends are, and falls victim to very convenient amnesia.

I can't stand people who don't take responsibility for their words and actions.

Needless to say, I'm worried. Obama is even making me (with my socialistic leanings) uncomfortable. I believe in social responsibility and personal giving in a capitalistic society. I do not believe that the government should take my hard-earned money and give it to everyone else. I believe that I should take my hard earned money and give to those less fortunate. I believe that it is the church's job to care for the widow and the orphan, not my personal job to support the lazy.
I believe that the government should leave me alone, and have far less say in my daily life.
I'm pretty sure Obama is going to do the opposite of that. Is he what this country needs? We'll see.

I'm waiting to be impressed.

I'm a weird libertarian, but is anyone else with me here?

I'm skurred of moving

So, the time has finally (almost) come. Friday we're finishing packing and moving everything down to a storage unit in Escondido. It's kinda funny to think of the things that we can live without, even though I'll miss having and using a lot of the stuff. All of my grandpa's (and my) paintings, wedding pictures, winter clothes, an entire box of shoes, three full boxes of books (at current packing status, at least), and all kinds of other possessions that somehow become so valuable. My favorite things aren't the most expensive, though, which I think is pretty good. I'll miss having the homey, memory filled things around for the next few months.

Right now it's looking like we're going to rent a room from a lady named Julie. Besides her, there are 3 my-aged girls living there, and Jake says they all seem really nice. I have to go down there tomorrow though to meet them, because they need to meet me before they decide if we can live there. I totally understand, but it'll be pretty lame if they don't like me. We're moving on Friday... that's a whole two days away...

Needless to say, i'm a little stressed out. I'm spending half of each day at Hire A Helper, trying to pack the whole house, and save some time for the friends that are going to be so much harder to see now.

I need me some Jesus-lovin. I know that He should be my constant, but sometimes it's so hard to find that. I'm one of those dumbs who always realizes again and again when things get hard that Jesus is the only answer. Jake is wonderful in his way, but he was never intended to be my all-in-all. That spot is for my Saviour alone... and I really wish that I were better at living up to my vow of faith and life.

I'm skurred of so many things-- where to live, new roommates, never finding a house and always having roommates, drifting away from friendship with Jake because we don't have much one-on-one time, getting a real all the way degree, finding a real job, wasting my life, never helping anyone or changing someone's life...

I'm a big fat whiner. I'm sorry. But what else are blogs for, right?

How are you?

I'm back!

Holy Crap. I haven't been able to log in to this blog or the associated email account in ages. Turns out the password isn't chucknorris, like Jake insisted that it was. :)

I'll be back soon to post a real blog with real updates, but right now i'm busy at work... kinda. I'm at my internship at hireahelper.com learning search engine optimization. I'm supposed to be writing a blog saying what i've learned so far.

I'm totally writing a blog.... just maybe not the right one. Mike kicks ass for giving me this opportunity. i'm gonna stop wasting his time now. :)

Tradition

(I'm never good at intros, so I'm just gonna do 'how I do' in normal conversation: that is, plunge right in)

Something in me longs for ceremony and tradition. Human nature, personality, something in me- I really don't know what. Whatever it is kinda makes me wish I was Anglican. Or Jewish. Ha, or as my 5 year old cousin calls it, "Messy Jew". She means Messianic, and she cracks me up.

It's something that I've been thinking about for quite some time, but was re.... activated(?) after reading this article a few weeks ago. I sent the link to Dr. Mooney (our pastor, and a past professor of mine) to ask him what he thought of it.
In a quick conversation at school one day, he gave me a quick overview of his thoughts. He wasn't so much a fan of the mystic, emergent-y elements, mainly because repentance isn't a nice, or uplifting feeling. It's tough. It's a nitty-gritty, no fun, prostration before the Living God please-don't-kill-me-i-suck-so-much kinda thing. I completely agree. Besides, the idea that we only somberly think of our mortality and badness for a month and a half out of the whole year is pretty lame.

There's also the problem with traditions and ceremonial rites that it gets us complacent and tuned-out to the whole thing. That is certainly a concern for all (western, mostly, i think) peoples, because we love our comfort, and we'll settle right in to just about anything if you give us a few minutes.

So I see the shortcomings of ceremonial things, but I still long for them. Am I wrong?

I really don't know. I think that ceremony is a way for humans to connect with something bigger than themselves, be it God or community or whatever else. For me, at least, it's an emotional connection fer sherrr. My intellect doesn't really give a crap for cathedral acoustics, stained glass, speaking beloved texts in unison with my brothers and sisters, etc., but my emotional side really does.

So the important thing for me to figure out, I think, is what place does this really have in my relationship to the Most High? Is it important to help me connect with the awe of His Power and Majesty that sometimes seems hard to find? Or is it just another stupid idea for me to get tangled up in? (I tend to get pretty tangled, sometimes)

I long to feel His glory and power and majesty and beauty and just be in total awe and wonder at it. (It'd be pretty cool if I didn't crap myself at that point, too.)

So I dunno. Thoughts? Suggestions? Anyone wanna read the Book of Common Prayer with me? (I don't have a copy, but my birthday's coming up! [hint hint])