Confessions of a Christian

The Blanket

2009-03-06T13:29:00.000-08:00

I don't know how to sit still and be quiet.

Writing was my way to focus my thoughts, still my mind and quiet my soul. Once I had Karsten, I stopped writing. Not only did I stop blogging, I stopped journaling. I used to journal my prayers, my conversations with God. Now most of my conversatons with God are done on the freeway at 85 MPH, in between tasks and duties or while playing with my son, amazed at who he is.

Busy-ness is a poison that robs the soul of beauty. When I cannot take time to stop and reflect, to channel my emotions, impressions and feelings through to my Maker everything gets too busy. I get so busy that even when my son manages to get my attention and we are sitting on the floor without the TV on, two other projects playing out and things needing to be done, I suddenly have to go pee or I remember the forgotten load of laundry in the washing machine.

I do not rest.

It's not so much fixing the 100s of tasks I have to complete in a day. It's not reducing the amount of hours I work. It's not cutting out anything.

It is making time for something.

It's making time to sit in a place and rest. Rest with my weary thoughts, my heavy load, my joyful moments, my new experiences. It is feeding my roots so deep in the ancient path of the Word of God that will slow everything else down so I can grasp every moment in every task that is laid before me. If I try to do every task and then stop, I will continue to run, to pant and to grow weary. If I start off in the depth of ancient wisdom, seek out paths that my soul craves and explore the beauty of the life I have been gifted with, I will find rest. I will be at peace.

This is my pause. This is my break. This is what truly binds my life together, encompasses every detail. I must take time to acknowledge the Maker of it all and see the beauty in the weaving he is creating through my life. As I stop to see where He is taking me and watch how He pulls it all together, I can finally rest in the knowledge that I am right where I need to be.

Recounting SLIP: Part II

2009-03-04T19:29:00.000-08:00

I met 'Boy with Sweaty Hands' and 'Creepy Sidekick' within an hour after being permanently left at SLIP forever. Well, if forever meant until Labor Day, then forever. At any rate, watching the brake lights to my dad's car before he turned onto the main road and drove way gave a sense of finality to the fact that I was starting a new journey in life. I was stuck. I think my parents established an 800# at home while I was away so I could call but there was no way I was wimping out. I'm way too tough. After my dad's car faded into a heat wave behind a wall of traffic, I turned to my dorm room.

I felt the walls closing in as I began to unpack my meager belongings. My roommate had shown up with her ultra-preppy belongings as if she had just come from the country club after finishing her tennis lessons and refreshing herself with a cool glass of iced tea with a sprig of mint. Looking back, I'm mildy surprised that an entourage of pool boys did not carry her well organized boxes, freshly done dry cleaning and down comforter in to the room. She reminded me of a 55 year old in an 18 year old body. Her parents lived in Malaysia for a lot of her teenage years as her dad was a "muckitymuck" for his company. She drove a Lexus with leather interior. She was a college student. I had no car. I would later find out that her car was nicer than even the staff and faculty at SLIP. I think she left her silver spoon at home. "Spoons" was my roomie.

After being in the same room with her for about ten minutes, I was ready for some fresh air. I decided to wander away from my dorm room with all the unpacked belongings. Procrastination becomes an art form in college. I started early.

I opened the door to the dorms and stepped into blinding, hot, white light. A heat wave rolled over me and instantly every pore of my body poured forth sweat. Luckily, I'm a girl and I only glisten and it smells rosy.

I descended the stairs and turned to my right. I know now I should have turned left. 'Boy with Sweaty Hands' and 'Creepy Sidekick' were about five paces to my right and closing in. There they were, physically looking somewhat like Laurel and Hardy. Their personalities were not nearly as cool or amusing. Creepy Sidekick started in by introducing himself. He had a weird smile plastered on his face and looked at me as if I were his long lost best friend. After saying "Hello" and giving my name, I felt like I was expected to say or do something more than the occasion called for. Awkward. I stood there with nothing more to say and they stood staring at me. They had the look in their eyes that boys get when they want to be dashing and daring but end up saying something like, "I'm madly in love with a school boy."

No exaggeration, as soon as I was able to extricate myself from the moment of great awkwardness and continue to peruse the grounds solo (not that they boys hadn't offered to escort me), I realized that my unnamed fears of not being able to relate to anyone at this Conservative Christian school may be very, very well founded.

Recounting SLIP: Part I

2009-03-03T19:46:00.001-08:00

My dad drove me to SLIP. I think perhaps it felt a bit like summer camp. My meager belongings were crammed into his car for the drive to a new place where I had apprehensions about the people I would meet and what this would be like.

I vaguely remember as I arrived and registered, I was recruited to play volleyball. Growing up I vehemently opposed any form of action that required coordination. In high school, I was heavily recruited by the basketball and volleyball coach to play in sports. I am tall. I am not coordinated. I had a huge fear of making a fool of myself. I'm good at making a fool of myself without moving and having objects whizzing about. I tried to put the person at the registration desk off but they were having none of it. I figured I was trying something completely new in life, and as I had a new found respect for myself due to a good decision about eight weeks earlier, I decided "What the heck!". I agreed to at least show up for the first practice.

As I walked out of the main building with my room assignment and papers in hand, I felt a knot form in my stomach as I pondered what kind of person the school assigned me to live with and what it would all be like. I also realized as I read the list of college rules, none of my clothes fit into the school's dress code. Let's say I had a bit of a "working lady" wardrobe happening as I was quite fit, men liked me and I liked to be noticed. This was great when walking around my small hometown with the bottom of my butt cheeks hanging out of my shorts, barley concealed behind the ruffles sewn on the hems but not so much when a person joins a small Christian school. These are the things I did not really consider when deciding on SLIP.

I was committed. I had already paid the registration fee and filled out the FAFSA Forms. My dad was proud. There was no turning back.

Luckily, my first test of this resolve was not until after I had placed my belongings into my room and my dad took me on a shopping spree to deck out my dorm room and then left me there.

It was just after that that I encountered my first serious doubts about having decided upon this course of action for my life. I met 'Boy with Sweaty Hands' and 'Creepy Sidekick'.

To Be Continued.

Set the Stage

2009-03-03T19:27:00.000-08:00

I have decided to undertake a writing project for as long as I'm interested in finishing it out and depending on how well I can recollect little stories from my past. My memory used to be razor sharp, now it is a bit more loose than that. I'll try to pull some gems out and dust them off and place them in a way you can appreciate. We will see how it goes!

I'm specifically targeting about 2 years of my life when I attended a small college in the U.S. We shall call it Small School with Lots of Interesting People. That's a little long. SSLIP? Haha. Yes. SLIP!

I think I will start at the beginning with SLIP: Day 1. Or maybe a prequel? Hmmmm....

Captivating

2009-02-22T12:31:00.000-08:00

I am just wondering if anyone else feels the way I do?

I don't fit in. Anywhere. Not completely anyway. I am a mom and I often feel completely inadequate in that realm. I work and often don't have enough hours to be successful at the job (sales). As a wife, I am often forgetful of my husband's needs or too tired to even care. At church, I am not the Proverbs 31 wife. I am not patient. I like to sleep in. I frequently am caught being snarky. Anyway, I just don't feel like I fit in.

To add insult to injury, I have to go through a class on a book called "Captivating" which describes the universal heart of a woman and how that fits into God's plan. Now, my brain often gets in the way of understand the subject matter, especially when the case that is built upon a questionable foundation. Such is the case of Captivating. The thing is, it has valid points but my brain is so busy trying to justify what they are saying, that I miss the whole point for the holes in the logic.

To compound the issue, I don't relate to women in general. I only had a best friend or two at a time growing up. The rest of the people I hung out with were usually guys. I thought other girls were mean and catty. When I started college, my impression on other females started to change as I was in a dorm with 40 other females. Turns out women are a great part of life. Being a mom now, I don't know what I would do without other moms. The most tender and nurturing people in my life are women. I aspire to be more like many of them.

However, Captivating seems to draw out this femininity factor in other women I think I was made without. Or perhaps, growing up being a complete daddy's girl, looking up to my older brother to the point of trying to do everything the way he did (I mean everything), and being a tomboy in general who would rather solve disputes with my fists than tears, I just feel like I'm missing it.

In the book's defense, I went in with a chip on my shoulder after deciding that the video clips remind me of vagina monologues and the opening chapter was so "girlie" that I felt defensive right away because I wasn't the girl twirling in dresses or dreaming for a knight in shining armor.

Anyway, as I continue to bear with it (because I'm forced to) there are things that speak to me but I'm afraid that it is misleading in some ways and so on the points of inaccuracy or poor fact gathering, I don't want to "buy into" the book in case it is a bunch of malarkey and the God they describe in the book is not the one of reality.

The key takeaway for me at this point is simply that we have a desire to be seen, noticed and cherished. Those desires are good desires that can be fulfilled through things here on earth but really should primarily be filled by our Creator. That I can agree with. I guess from here it's a journey for God to reveal my own heart to myself and how he fulfills these questions/longings/needs that are innate to who I am. Should be fun. I'll go pursue God. I like him!!

Anyone else out there that would like to understand the book but really have a hard time delving into it and seeing themselves in a lot of the descriptions or molds that they assume women share?

2009-02-04T19:40:00.000-08:00

I don't care about fashion anymore. I rarely even put my clean laundry away. It sits in a pile, a single article waiting to be discovered and donned once again.

I have been peed on. I have been pooped on. I have been puked on. Two years and two months ago, none of these things had ever happened. I now will leave my house without doing anything to my hair; not even blow-drying it. If I don't have to go into public, the chances of taking a shower are slim. My house is usually a disaster of sorts or has just had emergency work done and is anxiously awaiting the next hit. There is a mop drying outside. It is almost 9 o'clock at night. My shower has not been cleaned in many, many months. It's the same story with the dogs. Exercise? Once a week on the treadmill on average. Grocery shopping? I buy three things here and four things there.

Wow this is depressing me.

There is a break in my life, not a gradual undoing of things. The break is before birth and after birth. (Let's not talk about after birth though. It's a bit gross.) I was never convinced I wanted to really be a mom. The reason was because I thought I would end up doing all of the things I just listed and never be able to sleep past 8 am. It happened. I became a mom. It seems all I'm missing are the jeans.

For me, being a mom is a balancing act. I don't balance well so it is tricky. I tend to get caught up in one aspect of life or another. The beauty of my child is that he helps me keep everything in perspective.

I am maybe a typical person. I work 40+ hours a week. I have a house to clean. I have dinners to cook. I have a husband with whom I enjoy this life. I have bills to pay. I have clothes that need to be put away. I have laundry that needs tending to. I have a relationship with God. I have an iPhone to update. I have dogs to feed. I have volunteer work to do. I have a family I love.

Do you ever feel like you never wholly fit in any one place? There are certain ways that I fit well with one part of my family but then some other things that aren't quite the same. I then have some areas I fit in with another part of my life, such as work, but then there are areas that I just don't quite click. Same thing at church. In fact, this might be more exaggerated at church. I obviously have some things in common with other people I attend church with but then there are a lot of traits that don't mesh well in that situation. There is no place that 100% of who I am is 100% understood or accepted. I don't even 100% understand myself sometimes!

I guess if I stop and think about it (as I am freestyle writing), I may only feel completely comfortable around my 2 year old. Except that I often feel inadequate or lost when mothering my child. I wonder what traits of mine he will end up having imprinted upon him. I hope he is able to see life from a "half full" perspective and has a great hunger for God.

I am a very happy and content person but a skeptic too. Is that possible? Well I guess so because it's true. I like things to make sense. I will analyze things to death but then I also fly by the seat of my pants and make compulsive decisions. This is all a bunch of fun, huh? I guess it's no wonder I don't really fit in anywhere totally.

I'm done rambling for the moment. At least I'm done rambling in prose.

More Candy Please

2008-11-04T19:31:00.000-08:00

My recently-turned 2 year old son was a monkey for Halloween. Everyone said, "What a cute little bear!"

"Thanks!"

He was training how to hold out his pumpkin bucket and say "Twick or Tweet" all week but when it came down to the big night, he usually abandoned the usual saying for "More Candy, please."

It worked. Melts grandmas hearts apparently. He has a thing for suckers.

I recently acquired an iPhone. It compares to no other phone. It's not phone-centric. Apple didn't sit down and think, "Let's build a cell phone with some cool features." I think they took a product that was working and thought, "How can we get this to function as a cell phone too?" Cha-ching! It is brilliant. Enough said. Old news, I know. I just adapted several months later than the original launch.

On the other hand, I just got a Blackberry Bold yesterday on the AT&T Network. Early adapter on this one. I like it better than the iPhone in some regards. It is easier to text/email with. It is actually more powerful with out of the box features like aGPS which is exclusive to AT&T as satellite GPS instead of just cell tower GPS. The phone has another AT&T exclusive- Cellular Video. It's not like you record a video and send it. Everyone can do that. With cellular video, you initiate and phone call and then start the cellular video over that and it is a real time video-conferencing call. Also, on a lighter note, the Bold comes pre-loaded with Blackberrys classic brickbreaker as well as Soduku, Poker and Solitare. Oh, and if I decide to stop in Japan or Korea, guess what? The AT&T Bold is up to snuff to take on that need to. It works seamlessly there much like the iPhone 3G. Last big feature that I like it the Bold's ability to work on any available WiFi Network. So basically, tether your laptop to the Bold using WiFi or just for a faster browsing experience overall. Which leads me to the highlight of the Bold- the browser experience. It is much like the iPhone with a real, graphic rich user experience that is much more like desktop browsing instead of what we used to get with Blackberry which was an adaptation of websites broken down into text only. This has a beatuiful full color screen with graphics and links where you are used to seeing them plus a mouse that moves to where you need it to on the page instead of having the trackball only select certain spots on a webpage.

There's some great random blogging for a night when most people are glued to the screen to see the inevitable outcome of today's elections- we will have a new president residing in the White House come January. No matter who it is, it will be a good direction and change for the U.S.

God Bless America. Please.

My Confession

2008-07-23T09:16:00.001-07:00

I guess it comes down to not feeling valued, cherished. Pretty is just a word. Beautiful is hollow. He has the title so it gives him the right but it is no more sacred for it. What difference does it really make? He has his imagination, his lust. Maybe no more should be expected from a man. Now is when I’m having a hard time getting over it and that makes no sense. Just shut it out, put it behind, erase it. But now I can’t. Makes no sense.

I want to feel like there is no one else anywhere that could hold a candle to me, even in his mind. I want to feel like it would be worth giving up everything in the world, fighting wars and facing peril just to have me but he can’t even stop this one thing from getting in between us.

Now the issue is I want to find a place where I do feel like no sacrifice is too big to keep me, to be with me, to understand me. Not this monotony. Not this compromise. Not this day in and day out comfortable because the title exists thing. He may be true to me physically but that’s not enough. I want body, mind and soul. Every inch, every molecule. There is no room for anyone or anything else in this. And if there is, there are holes, gaps. And the gaps are taken from me. What do I use to fill them? I feel lost. I feel that my worth has been traded for something intangible that I can’t lay a finger on or combat. I don’t want to combat it. I shouldn’t have to. This warps everything. My mentality. My marriage. It leads me to think of the what ifs. What if I could be more attractive? What if I needed to feel beautiful? What if this goes on and on? What if I’m tired? What if I’m weak? What if I’m not worth fighting for? What if I give up? What if…….

We are bound; twined together. But something has wrapped itself in us too and it is poison. I am helpless to remove it, pluck it out, strike at it. Nothing I can do will fix it. Not if I were stronger, tougher, smarter. It continues to suck at the life of this union. It is draining the beauty, the mystery, the heartbeat. We are gasping for breath.

The funny thing is the poison is now being withdrawn from us and now is when I am having a hard time coping with even the smallest trace. I feel betrayed. I can’t be violated one more time. I feel like I will just fall off and not be twined anymore, just lay to the side useless.
Where is the strength? Where is the Gardener? Where is the power to deal the final blow to the poison that threatens? Everything is on the line. Everything is at stake. My definition of loyalty, my ability to understand sex, my foundation of a solid marriage. It can’t crack any further, it can’t shift under my feet any longer. It has to become solid, unmoving, dependable, firm, able to hold me through everything, weather the stress, the bad, the good and the ugly. I have to know that we belong completely to each other and no one else. There is a person in me that won’t go down without a fight, won’t be the one to be made a fool of, will protect myself at all costs. This person is growing larger as I feel diminished. I cry out to God to help me stay empty of myself and for him to fill me, mend the gaps, stand guard in the hurt. But this person I feel more closely, gaining strength and speed, crouched waiting for one more assault, one more attack to take over and gain control, to pay back what was taken, to satisfy the longing to be beautiful, needed, loved and glorious. It would make me uglier than I could imagine but I would feel safe. Right now I guess I just want to feel safe. Know my boundaries, know what is going to happen, feel protected.

Half Life

2008-06-03T23:56:00.000-07:00

The difference is that I have lost hope. So much potential and beauty and meaning and purpose and destiny is written in the face and heart of every adolecent. Makes no difference who their parents are, where they grow up, how much money they are entitled too. They all get it. At least the ones I meet.

Maybe it's because when I meet them they are ready. They are expecting. They are hoping. They may be fearful or use pride and arrogance as a shield at first but they always lay down their weapons of protection with very little prodding.

They need to know they are loved. They need to know they are special. They need to know that they are the only one in life who can be who they are made to be. They need to know someone wants to see them when they are at their very worst, most angry, saddest, stupidest, beligerent and is there to celebrate the wins, the victories, the right choices and the hard road.

I gave up. I didn't realize it until tonight.

Quick background: Raised in church. Rebelled. Lonely. Self destructive. I realized I had betrayed the essence of who I was in my search to find who I was. Went back to my roots. Got sick of religion. Found God in life. Followed God. Ended back in church. In ministry.

I don't know what to say to describe the connection I had with the group of teens that I worked with. I invested so much. Realized so many of my notions about teenagers were completely wrong even though I had just recently been one and had been working with them since I was one. Something about this group captivated my heart. No matter what happened to them in life, they continued to press on in life. They got it. Circumstances did not dictate who they were. Their purpose was not tied to how people saw them. God created them. God knew. God led. They followed.

Josh died. People got ripped to pieces. Hobbling along they kept going. They inspired me. Moved me. Awed me. I loved them. I cried for them. I prayed for them. I encouraged them. I let them live with me. I gave them shoes. I bought them gifts. I fed them. I invested every molecule that I could into God and the love just gushed out of me.

One by one they started to fall.

I did not know that face by face and name by name my heart retreated. It hushed. I focused on the future, the next group.

They had all graduated. They made it. I wish I could carry them around in my back pocket and keep them safe. Instead I cried and prayed and fasted. I saw improvements, then backsliding, then hope, then a tapering off of growth.

Did God fail them? Did I fail them? Did they fail themselves?

I have a whole new group. Every last one of those first teenagers has now graduated. I recognize I do not have the passion, the drive, the hope or the connection that I once had with that first group at E.F.

Tonight it hit me as I lay praying in bed.

I don't think that what I do ultimately makes a difference in a single one of their lives. The prayers bear no fruit, the love has no consequence, the truth has been traded, the worship has been swallowed.

God, there was such destiny in that room. There was such greatness.

Now. Now what? Nothing different than any other person they knew. Same lifestyle. Same views. Same actions. Same reactions. Nothing different. They fell. They have not gotten up.

And so I sell short this new group. The next phase of teenagers is only getting part of my heart, part of my time, part of my prayers. I can't give it all. It hurts. It cuts. It despairs. It has no return. It is meaningless.

I have lost hope. Yet I am hoping that recognizing my problem is the first step towards recovery. Recover hope, recover love, recover compassion. Fully give without thought of the 22nd birthday.

Those teens still call, still text, still check in. When they are in need, the first group turn to me for advice, friendship, encouragement. But I don't see the difference it has made except that my heart hurts. Maybe they would say different. Maybe to them it has made a difference but I don't see any of them living with hope that they are what we told them they are- More than their circumstances, more than what people give them credit for. They forgot. They don't believe. It was too much for them.

I can't really make a difference beyond creating that initial environment of love and showing them Jesus. The rest seems immaterial.

Some People Wear Their Halos Too Tight

2007-10-19T10:22:00.000-07:00

It's scary if you think about it.....what America is becoming. I flew from Arizona to Minnesota to visit my mom's side of the family with my one year old. So here I am with my baby going through security. Prescription medicines and baby liquids like juice & formula do not need to be "claimed" in the liquid zip lock bags in containers under 3 ounces. They told me to take out any thing used to feed him. Took out the 5 oz bottles I mix with the formula. Big scene. I had to dump it out. Can't buy warm water to mix with formula to feed my kid and as any parent knows, when the plane is taking off you want the kid sucking on a bottle so their ears will pop and adjust to the change in pressure. I get so aggrivated when I think about this. They made me throw out the water I needed to make my baby a bottle. To feed my kid. Where am I supposed to get warm water to make a bottle? Have to pay airport prices of $6 for a COLD bottle of water. Being resourceful, I worked it out but the principle of the situation irriates me.

Where has common sense gone? I am a natural born citizen of this country. I am a giving and generous person who does not want to cause harm to other human beings. I am not involved in terrorism in any sense. I believe in America's freedom; our freedom of speech, the right to assemble. Now it is guilty until proven innocent and in case you're not, we're taking away the water you needed to feed your kid. If I would have argued, I would have been arrested. No free speech. I can't say, "Do you really think I am going to blow myself up with my baby?" If I were to say, "Do you think I'm going to commit a crime on a mass scale with my 1 year old son in tow?" that would be grounds enough to detain me. Maybe fine me.

This is scary. Not because I can't take water on a plane but because the rights of American citizens are being erroded. The terrorists are trying to take down America and they are winning. Through fear. Through fear they are chipping away at people's sense of security, the ability for people to say what is on their mind, the right to challenge an assinine government rule. Through fear people stare at men of Middle Eastern descent in the airport. Through fear people are acquiesing to the tighter rule of government in their lives in the name of a "safer America". It's for the good of the masses. Control. Good for the masses. Doesn't sound like a democratic place to be.

To further my rant (and possibly cause an audit by the IRS), taxes are oppresive. I work hard. Put my bills (mortgage, one car, college loan payoffs, 2 credit cards, car, health and life insurance, utilities) against my annual income and there is virtually nothing left. Groceries, gas, birthday presents, clothes for my ever-growing child (plus diapers and formula) require me to take a 2nd part time job. So between me and my husband, there are 3 incomes coming in. And there has to be to make ends meet. We are not extravagant in our spending. I shop at Wal-Mart and sometimes JC Pennys. Since the pregnancy, my feet grew. I still have not bought tennis shoes that fit. And yet, the government has figured out that I owe them $5,600. Am I here to serve my government? Obviously. I have to work, cut the small, tight budget I already live by in order to pay them back out of fear that they will take everything I have ever worked for.

My younger sister often says it is time for a revolution. The government has taken too much control, gotten the idea that We the People are here to serve them. The Senate and the House write up and pass laws for We the People yet put in clauses that make them exempt from the laws that they see as good enough for the rest of us. The IRS was created during the civil war to pay for the war. It stayed around long after the civil war. States are not allowed to vote out of federal law anymore. We cannot do what is best for our local government body. Did you know that if you make over a certain dollar amount (like $1.5M)you are exempt from taxes on any earnings above that? The U.S. collected $2.2 Trillion dollars last year in taxes from its citizens. And who benefits from the taxes? Surely We the People do. I don't mean all sour grapes. I like paved roads, electricity in the government buildings, etc. I appreciate that people who need help buying food are not left to starve in this country. I really like that kids in low income homes get health care. There is something askew about this country when there are so many instances where the constitution is stuffed. Things are getting off kilter when a hard working family is burdened by a bill from their own government and has fear that if they don't figure out how to take care of it, their whole adult life's work will be gone with just the life lessons left to stand by.

I don't know. I'm not a politics hound. I don't keep tabs on much in the political arena. These are just small observations from a voting citizen of a country that I love. I am only concerned. I am not labeled as a Republican or Democrat. I don't back any particular political icon. I am not trying to tell anyone who to believe or what to do. I am just a person who feels a bit oppressed, crushed against a government that is so big that there is nothing this one person by herself can do. There is no one that will listen to common sense because this country is so big that the Federal Government can't worry about a single individual's experiences and hardship. They can't judge a person on a specific situation as the laws apply, it is the law applies to all situations. And there are so many laws. So many rules. And the constituion isn't taught. We know more about Brittney Spears than our potential presidents for the next election.

I'm worried.

July 21, 2007

2007-02-05T06:17:00.000-08:00

Yay for July 21, 2007. The newest and last book of the Harry Potter's series is being released on that date. I am sure I will be reading every word and every page in every spare moment I have.

Being that I am a new mom, you are probably wondering if I am in Amberland thinking I could actually read a book with what will then be a seven month old. Well, I managed to read "Next" by Michael Crichton in just a few days with a two month old. I was sort of surprised, honestly. Someone had gotten me John Grishams' "Innocent Man" for my birthday when Karsten was only four days old and I tried reading it when he was about six weeks old but to no avail. The book never really seemed to get started. It all seemed like story background, even halfway through. But "Next" was really exciting and fun with quick chapters that developed and moved the characters along at a very nice clip. So I was committed to reading that book and was finished in a few days.

Being that JK Rowling books are getting to be the length of "Gone with the Wind", I am sure it will take me weeks to finish and maintain life outside of the novel so I am also sure I will be obsessing about what happens next and speed through the diaper changes as quickly as possible to get back to my chair, holding my child in one arm and holding the book that weighs the same as my child in another arm. But I am a wee bit excited. Is Dumbledore really dead? Who has been retriving the trinkets that hold Voldemort's soul? Who is next to die? What will happen with Ron and Hermoinie- do they fall in love happily ever after? Does Ginny make things work with Harry? Huh? Huh? Huh?

My First Mistake as a Mom

2007-01-04T22:18:00.000-08:00

I keep my house clean. I constantly wash my hands. I disenfect his room and the house doorknobs occasionally. I pick him up constantly, talk to him, play with him. I am quick to change a diaper. I spot treat his clothes.

Yet I feel like the worst mom in the world right now.

Kids should come with an instruction manual. In today's uber-informed day, I google everything. For example, I have a vast knowledge of RSV, homeopathic remedies for babies, pros and cons to immunization shots and some little tricks, why newborn babies don't shed tears when they cry, what developmental milestones he should hit and when, how to wash clothes, special mixtures for diaper rash.

Yet somehow I missed this. In my defense, I went to go pick up the Tylenol one week after he was born, right after he was circumcized. I was a bit daffy still.

So at two and a half months old, I took Karsten in to get his first round of immunization shots. Usually babies get them at exactly two months old, but it is was Christmas with lots of parties to attend and the immunization shots forces the body to be sick so it is wise to keep the baby away from potential germs.

So yesterday at 3:00, before we went to the pediatrician, I gave Karsten 8 ml of Children's Tylenol as the nurse had instructed so it wouldn't be so painful because he would be stoned. He was a champ. He didn't get a fever, hasn't been too fussy except for some gas. This morning at 9, I gave him 8 ml more because he had a slight fever but he was still all smiley and happy with me.

Tonight about 8:00 his fever seemed a bit warmer and he was yelling and even offering him food didn't quiet him. So I put some milk in a bottle and added the Tylenol. As I was doing this, I noticed that 80ml was enough for a 35-47 pound kid. That's roughly three times more than Karsten weighs.

So I went to go make sure I had the correct dropper. I did.

I called the pediatrician's office and had an after hours nurse call back.

Apparently Tylenol comes in a strength for children and another type for Infants. I had Children's Tylenol in liquid form. In my mind, infants are children so that was the stuff I bought when Karsten was 9 days old.

So I have overdosed my kid with Tylenol which is potentially fatal. My first mistake as a mom is a fatal one.

My husband called his mom who said the same thing the pediatrican's nurse did. He should be fine because he had only 2 doses which were 18 hours apart and there are no apparent side effects yet. We should make sure he gets more liquids than normal. (Yea for me, I get to wake up every 3 hours like he's a newborn again. Small pennance for how bad I feel though.) If the spot under his ribcage feels hard or is really tender to Karsten or if he turns yellow, we are probably in big trouble.

We googled acetaminophen, the active ingredient in Tylenol. An overdose could require a liver transplant or it may result in death. Acetaminophenis a toxin. Ever hear of a teenager trying to overdose on a bottle of asprin? Tylenol is more likely to work better.

So I called Poison Control Center. 1-800-222-1222 I didn't have to look that up. I now have it memorized.

The guy on the phone was very nice. He asked questions like Karsten's age, weight, potency of the Tylenol. After doing some math he told me that the doseage he got was three to six times what he needed but it didn't pose a real problem.

My holistic doctor called me after I left a message for her. She told me to take milk thistle, a liver maintenance pill, viatmin C, enzymes and acidophilous every four hours for the next two days.

He'll be fine. I just wonder why my first mistake couldn't be putting his shirt on backwards?

Sleep

2006-12-16T21:28:00.000-08:00

My social life is making a comeback. I have been out to all sorts of Christmas parties with my baby. We are both getting our social fix, I guess. Of course, having a newborn attracts all sorts of attention, even from people I would like to not get attention from.

Jeremy and I went to my company's Christmas party last night. First of all, most of the people I work with are very upper class that own multi-million homes, BMWs, have investment portfolios, etc. They aren't people I feel completely comfortable around. I am middle class and work well with blue collar or even white collar people. But people who are so rich they have no collars because they don't have to work, that is a different story. I would like to be one of those people someday, but hopefully I can still be down to earth.

So this lady last night who I have never met kind of camped out near Jeremy and I and offered tidbits of advice like, "Babies are small." Okay, it wasn't really advice but more obvious facts that anyone would know about a baby. She was wearing a gold shirt and a vest that was embroidered with what looked like a scene from a Victorian painting. I am sure she was wearing pants, but I don't remember because of the upper half of her outfit. I had never met this woman before, but she hovered and stared a lot. I had to nod and smile quite a bit. It was odd.

Tonight we had the Christmas party with the teenagers. We probably had 35 people there. It was a blast and I felt so much more natural and comfortable. No one gave me baby advice. I had lots of compliments on how handsome Karsten is which a mother always likes. (I hear it so much I wonder if it is sincere though.) The teens played games and laughed and teased. It was wonderful.

Tomorrow night is another Christmas party at our friend's house. Thursday night is a Christmas party for my husband's work. We will leave to go to the in-laws for Christmas on Sunday.

So I have to finish wrapping presents, hit Wal Mart for a few last items and count my blessings again. I love Christmas!

This year I think I am more in the Christmas spirit because we don't have money this year. We had to keep our gifts to everyone at about $10. We didn't buy a Christmas tree. My husband and I aren't exchanging presents with each other. I was sad at first. I love buying gifts for people without much consideration for cost. I am sure we usually blow about $1000 every Christmas. Sometimes I get so wrapped up in getting EVERYONE a present, shopping, wrapping, and the busyness of the season that I feel more exhausted than anything. This year I have had time to reflect on the true blessings I have in my life which no store bought gift could ever rival. I have a home. I have a loving husband. I have a well behaved, easy to care for baby boy who is beautiful. I have family who cherishes me. I have friends who care for me. My family is healthy. My family is functional. I have good in-laws. The weather is still in the 60s and 70s here. God has given me so many gifts that mean so much! He is the best gift giver.

On to Motherhood updates: (Even though my readership is zero!)

My baby is sleeping through the night. I feel so blessed that at only seven weeks, he started going to sleep through the night. The first time I had eight hours of sleep in a row, I actually felt more tired than when I was getting about three hours at a time. My body apparently was saying, "Okay, give me more."

Did I mention that I fit into all of my pre-pregnancy jeans? It is such a great feeling. I still feel pretty. I still feel beautiful like a woman should. I thought I would lose a big chunk of that as a mom. Not so. Moms can be sexy, I guess. Who would've thunk it?

I am also getting up at 6:00 in the morning without a problem. I wake up before he does now. I have quiet time by myself before Jeremy wakes up. I actually got a lot of cleaning done.

To Be Honest

2006-12-13T20:04:00.000-08:00

Well, I am writing to you because I just want a "sounding board". So I'm talking about the "F" word! (In my life, the "F" word is "feelings".) I'm not really looking for a response or anything.
I have finally figured out that I am feeling insecure because I know I am changing and I am afraid that Jeremy won't like me as much.

I told Jeremy this and he says I'm being silly. Which is pretty much the response I expected.

I want to like myself and I guess I'm having a hard time accepting the changes and liking them. It's been a very long time since I've not liked myself so I'm losing self-confidence which is the ONE thing a woman needs to be attractive. Vicious cycle!

So the solution? I should probably figure out what I am not liking about the changes and work on making positive changes.

Motherhood is a beautiful, wonderful thing. I think it makes me be more aware and more attentive to the kind of person I am becoming for my sake, the sake of my husband and the sake of my son. I would like my family to be as functional as possible and the dysfunction usually starts with a crazy mom. The world does not need another one of those!

Amberland has been bought out!

2006-12-12T17:06:00.000-08:00

I'm bored. I just want to relax. I need a back massage. I don't relax very much anymore because I think Karsten will need me at any minute so I feel like I'm constantly "on".

Now I feel like having a nap. Or a margarita. Or something.

I don't feel as fun as I used to be. I don't know. It's serious to be a mom but I just want to have fun and laugh and keep things light. I feel like I am losing that "keeping things light" part of myself.

My marriage has changed. I didn't want it to. We have to function more as adults, I guess. It takes more communication, talking about things even when things are not pleasant and just fun and silly. I like just fun and silly. I don't like confrontation of any sort, really. However, I know it is unhealthy to keep things bottled up or to stuff problems when everything isn't just fine. Parenthood takes more compromise in a marriage I guess.

If anyone has tips on how to stay silly with a newborn, please let me know. I try to think of silly things to do, or make light of situations I have to deal with repetitively with my son. But I don't feel like I have the resources outside of that to cope, to find as much humor, to truly enjoy the lighter side of life. Which is sad because it's that side that is the best side for me.

I want AmberLand back!

Money Issues

2006-12-07T18:55:00.000-08:00

I think a lot more about things like health insurance, drug problems in my community and the state education system now that I'm a mom.

My momness is stressed about bills. I really want to be responsible about paying everything on time. I need health insurance for my family. I am self employed. My husband works at a small church.

I have been thinking a lot about finding a "real" job instead of being self employed but the potential for money in this job is so good. I am in my third year and building my business, so I should just get busier and learn more to do better, correct? I don't know.

I want to go back and finish school. I want to live somewhere that is close to a four year college. I am looking for a profession that will pay well and be reliable. Not something I necessarily love because now I love my son and my family and that's what I will work for.

I want to live in a state where the education is better than 48th out of 50.

I could sell my house, take the profit and buy a home in Iowa free and clear. The downside is that I would then live in Iowa.

All of a sudden, life as it was two months ago is not going to cut it for life with a son. I am going to have to step up my game in real estate and start pulling down the money I know I can make if I apply myself. I am going to have to live within a budget. I am going to have to start saving for retirement and Baby K's college fund.

I feel motivated to do all of these things now. It's just the immediate future that is stressing me out. Maybe by the Spring, I will be rolling along in business enough to generate income for a good insurance program, get an online education and start that savings program!!

Anyway, that is what's on my mind right now. Thanks for letting me get it out!

Maui!!

2006-12-04T21:23:00.000-08:00

I can tell I am getting more rest. I actually have brain capacity to daydream and wish. It is a change from the grind of worrying about the basics of food, sleep and cleanliness. However, day dreaming is dangerous. I found myself wanting a brief vacation and only six weeks into this new momness! I am ready for Baby K to be a bit more independent, but only for a week so I can go to San Diego or Maui. Ahhh....beaches and mai tais. I could just wave my worries and stresses away. I could sleep in again. Just some simple things to look forward to.

I think I have a year to go at least for something like that. And I am sure five hours into an excursion, I would be missing Mr. J and Baby K and would have to turn around and go home immediately.

So this evening I was feeling a wee bit sorry for myself. I gave the dogs a bath, did dishes, did laundry, took out trash, fed changed and burped Baby K countless times today. By this evening, I just wanted someone to make dinner for me. I wanted to take a long bath or have sex or do something normal. I wanted the house to be magically clean and the laundry to put itself away. Just a break where I didn't feel guilty for leaving Mr. J to tend to things just because I didn't want to for a while.

I am grateful that I have a great husband who can help out and is more than willing to. He is constantly telling me, "Amber, just ask for help when you need it." But I feel guilty for not wanting to do it myself. If I don't want to do it, why would anyone else?

On a side note, Mr. J needs to take cooking classes.

Boring or Strange?

2006-12-01T19:26:00.000-08:00

I don’t like blending in, being normal, hum-drum or status quo. I think it is part of the reason I waited a while to become a mom. Everyone has kids it seems. I know God made us to reproduce and it’s fairly easy to do, even without intending to.

I am a middle income American, wife of a youth pastor, a mom and I don’t even think I qualify as a MILF. I don’t think there is much originality in that. The thought sort of depressed me for a few days. I am just glad I have today’s version of a wagon instead of a white minivan I guess. Plus, I don’t have to take anyone to soccer practice just yet.

I now wake up between 4:30 and 5:30 in the morning and go to bed no later than 9:00 at night in most cases. I do laundry, clean the house, get urges to make homemade cookies, make dinner, feed the dogs, compulsively vacuum the living room. I watch Oprah and Dr. Phil in the afternoon. I even think about looking for coupons online before I go shopping and I budget and figure out how much I have in the bank account and how many bills I have to pay to see if they balance. (The good news is that I live in a country where the national deficit will always be something to consider before I begin to panic. Do other countries call the White House daily asking about payment? I digress.)

I worry about germs and sickness and coughs and cleanliness. I have a working knowledge of how to change a diaper on a six week old baby at 2:30 in the morning when he is squirming, kicking and screaming and can manage to get the diaper on and all fifty snaps repositioned in no time flat. I eat even faster. I can down lunch or dinner in under two minutes flat.

Where’s my originality? Basically, it’s in my DNA.

Psalm 139 (The Bible)

13 For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. 14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. 15 My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, 16 your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.

I talk to my teens a lot about purpose and identity. (Or, at least I did before I became pregnant and I formed a one track mind for Mommy-ville.) I have been stripped of my previous purpose and identity. It still exists, but in a much smaller, less significant way. I still have a profession. I still enjoy my relationships with teens. I still write blogs occasionally. I still read books sometimes, have conversations with my husband and shop at Wal Mart. My purpose and identity in life might be confused with being a 30 year old mom, a pastor’s wife, my looks, my checking account balance, the vehicle I drive or a myriad of other things.

The truth is my identity has been given to be uniquely by the unique Creator. My husband shared with me that God says, “I know the plans I have made for you.” The word "plan" there correlates to “invented”. God invented something unique and special for this run-of-the-mill mom.

My true identity might be hidden to most people behind the yellow cleaning gloves, lack of coiffed hair, spit up on my shirt, or slippers that perpetually grace my feet. But I know my true identity. I am unique. God spent time on me personally, starting from the inside out. From day one, he had invented a whole story for me and me only. Even if I fit the profile of 300 million other people, I am my own person with my own story. My power and my life flow from the Creator of the universe. Imagine, he invented something for ME and he also invented things like Earth, flowers, animals, the sun, the moon, DNA, string theory, integers, the way a woman’s body works when she gets pregnant to after the baby is born, thought of everything, planned for everything….He invented me and a story for me.

I am excited to see what the next sentence of my story will be!

P.S. I am sure a bunch of people would label me a "nut" for this post alone! Here's to not being normal!

Mom Blogger Group?

2006-11-30T07:39:00.000-08:00

I wonder if there is some sort of mom blog group? Being a first time mom, I often have questions about if my experiences are falling into the realm of "normal", plus it would be nice to vent and comment on what this is like.

I have turned into the speediest eater ever. I could win a short eating contest, I think. I managed to eat a whole bowl of soup in under 60 seconds yesterday for lunch just so I could nurse on a full stomach instead of sitting with a grumbly tummy during the 10-45 minutes it takes to feed my son.

One thing that has changed since having a son is my blogging. I don't like my style of writing as much. It's not as interesting but I guess it is hard to keep a complicated train of thought that would hold an audience when I have to look at my child every 15 seconds or so to make sure he is beautiful as ever! Plus, about halfway through a post, he tends to get fussy and want to be held. He seems to have a sixth sense to be able to know when I want to do something (eat, take a nap, write, read) and will suddenly get very unsettled and need me for something.

It's funny though. As I mentioned in my previous post, I don't tire of him. It doesn't upset me in the least to be interrupted. He is such a beautiful bundle of skin, bones and soul that I can't help but to be seriously in love.

So if there is some sort of mom blogger group, let me know! I'd be interested in joining the circle! If not, I might have to go search for other new moms and start one!

Being a New Mom

2006-11-22T18:46:00.000-08:00

No one will probably visit since I haven't written in about seven months. Oops! Well, I have a good reason.

I am a mom.

I love it.

My son is a month old as of yesterday.

Here's my thoughts on motherhood:

My life is completely different now. I wake up at 4 am but sit in my PJs until about 1 in the afternoon. I go to bed at 9:30 on a late night. I watch lots of daytime TV, clean the house and of course, attend to Karsten's every whim.

He has a head cold right now. He's "snorty". I have a humidifier on in the living room and one in his room. He has to sleep sitting up (reclined a little bit). I use that blue nose sucker thing to suck his boogers out of his head for him since he can't blow his own nose yet.

Of course, since he is my first child, I had to rush him to the doctor yesterday morning and make sure he didn't have the dreaded "RSV". If you are not a mom of a newborn recently, you probably don't know what "RSV" is. It is not when you are supposed to call to tell a hostess that you will be attending the party. It is when babies get a cold in their lungs. Then they have to go to the hospital.

Jeremy was so concerned about Karsten on Monday night and the dreaded "RSV" that he stayed up and literally watched Karsten until 4 o'clock in the morning to make sure he wasn't having any problems breathing. I took over after that but fell asleep at about 7 in the morning. I am not as good of a parent, I guess.

So what's this motherhood all about besides spit up, dirty diapers, crying and a cute face? It's hard to describe. As much of a challenge and a drastic change as motherhood is, it is completely rewarding for reasons unexplainable. It's the moments when you put your child on the changing table to change yet another poopy diaper and you look at him and your heart melts. It's the little expressions the child has and the way you can read their minds (after a few weeks).

Sometimes at 2:30 in the morning when they are so squirmy they have stuck their foot in the dirtiest part of the diaper once again and you can't fasten the clean one on them because of their excessive movement and all the while they are crying that you try to figure out why you don't just give up and maybe slap them a few times. But there is something protective and patient in a parent's love. As annoying as the loudest scream directly in your ear may be, you just think, "Oh how cute", or "Poor kid". There are only a few moments for self-pity in parenthood and they can't last long.

I don't know why I am writing this except to explain to my former self that she was right- parenthood isn't fun. But even more than that, my former self (who is quickly fading into oblivion) should know that it is all more than worth it. I am already a better person.

The first two weeks were the hardest. I couldn't go grocery shopping, I could hardly walk, I didn't have any extra time to go online, play games, or cook. It was always a choice in my spare moments to take a shower, eat or sleep. If I chose to eat, I would wolf down my food as fast as possible because either I wanted to finish before Karsten woke up again or the time I spent eating was cutting into my precious sleep time. I was so worn down during that time that I would make really stupid mistakes like forgetting to take that center strip off of my pad so the wings could fold down and off I would go with myself and a little bit later I would have a mess. And I didn't even commit that error just once but at least three times.

Of course, there were the crying jags which for me always seemed to happen right about sunset. I would cry because I was sleepy, hungry, wanted to spend time with Jeremy but too tired to carry on a conversation, I was in pain, Karsten woke up again, I spilled water or whatever. My emotional ability to cope was at an all time low.

And yet, Karsten was so small (at 10 pounds) and he didn't really cry but made these squeaking nosies so I called him Squeaker. After the second week, he started yelling and screaming and Squeaker is a thing of the distant past. He is now a month old and 13 pounds of beautiful. Even being sick, he is a really good baby. Now I even get out to go grocery shopping or travel with him to my parent's house in Prescott. It is all very exciting. I can answer the phone, check email and have visitors over without stressing myself out. It's like getting my life back from a short but unforgettable incarceration.

I suppose this is a dim view of motherhood. It's not for the selfish or faint of heart. Those people turn out lost and broken children. Yet if you can give all of yourself without bitterness it truly is the most amazing thing you could ever do.

I Like to Be Called Mama (Not Prego)

2006-04-11T05:33:00.000-07:00

**Warning- this is a self-absorbed post by a pregnant woman all about herself and pregnancy in general.**

One of the interesting things about being pregnant this week is finding myself in a new circle of acceptance with people. Maybe it's just having something in common with them (them beng moms) or maybe its because they now have a new audience for their old stories of when they were pregnant and had newborns.

Regarldess of the reason, it's fun because these are people I never said much to beyond "Hello" and "How are you doing". I'm getting to know them in a new way, and it's kind of a private way but most women go through it so it's not so private because its universal.

The worst thing this week about being pregnant (next to the aches and pains and headaches) is my inability to sleep past 4 am. I despise mornings. Can't really find a good reason for them to exist. No matter how late or early I go to sleep, whether or not I have taken a nap the day before or gone without one for a week, what I eat or don't eat I cannot seem to get any shut eye past 4 o'clock in the morning. And I'm not drinking coffee due to the fact that I am petrified of having a hyper-active colicy baby with indigestive problems because I had to much caffine. I can't take sleeping pills because I can't take any medication. This new life due in six months is apparently very fragile so I must now be sturdy. And being sturdy means that I have to grin and bear my worst bout of headaches without Excedrin, experience shin splints and growing pains in my legs and hips all over again.

The upside is this kickin' metabolism that I haven't had since I was 18. I eat and eat and eat somemore and my stomach is getting bigger, but I'm losing weight everywhere else. To date, I am two pounds lighter than my pre-pregnancy weight. I go see the doctor next Monday and I'm hoping this isn't too big of a deal. I eat so much that I don't know what I could do to gain weight. I mean, for crying aloud, I am taking straight oil for my vitamin E. Forget putting potatoes in it and calling it french fries, it's just straight oil. (Not vegetable oil but still not pleasant.) I go to a holisitic doctor and the oil is supposed to help with my itching and dried out nose. Also, as my stomach protrudes more I am hoping it aids in skin elasticity for minimal stretch marks. (Did you know that only 10% of women DO NOT get stretch marks? My mom was one so I'm hoping to follow suit.) And lastly, there's the pleasant subject of the perinium tearing and I'm hoping (really, really hoping) that doesn't happen either.

So this is pregnancy. I might have told you the most fun part (besides having new friends in the secret "Been There Done That (Pregnancy) Society" I didn't know existed as a non-pregnant woman) is registering for gifts. I can't resist looking at a million and one things manufacturers make for babies and new moms. It's shopping, people but on a whole new level. I realize that I am going to have to cut corners in my budget now. I might actually have to pull weeds instead of paying a company to come and spray them. I already found a suit for a little boy (like 6 months) that costs $70 and the kid will grow so fast I'll be lucky if I would get 2 uses out of it. So I'm already having to tell myself that I'm gonna hafta have a wee bit of self control if I don't want to go bankrupt in the first year of the child's life.

I guess that's one thing I had a bit more together in my life before I have a child, my finances. My grandma said, "If you waited until you had enough money to have a child, you would never have a child." That might be true, but I still would be more comfortable if I knew that I didn't have to control my spending when looking at baby stuff. I mean, I watched E! (the channel) and the celebrity baby bonanza that is happening in Hollywood right now and they have no problem dropping $200 on a stupid shirt I could probably find at WalMart. Does money grow on trees at the Emmys or something? Do they secretly have money trees in the green room there?

I realize I am rambling and this post is too long to keep anyone's interest but it's amazing how much I have on my mind lately. That's the best part of blogging, siphoning off some of these thoughts that swirl madly in my head.

Oh, and I have to go get a form for a tax filing extension today. Boo for taxes!

I'm Due

2006-04-08T10:55:00.000-07:00

It's been awhile, right? You're not even sure why you clicked to come see my link because you were pretty sure there would be nothing new here, correct?

I don't blame you. I've been missing for almost...what...2 months? Well, I promise I have the best excuse ever. (Not that I really need one for blogland anyway.)

I'm 13 weeks pregnant.

So the last two months I have spent barely able to do what I am supposed to do in my life. It was a struggle to get out of bed, pretend like I wasn't sick and proceed to complete everything I am supposed to do as a modern day woman. For a while, I was wishing I could live in the times of "Gone with the Wind" when it was improper for a woman to do anything while pregnant. Ah! Those would be the days. Unless you were like Scarlett and had to get out to run the sawmill. However, that would not have been me. I would've gratefully accepted the bed rest and pampering.

For those of you who have never been pregnant or never will be- the people who tell you that they love being pregnant are lying. Well, I assume they are because my whole body revolted against me. I had no control. I was miserable for a while. I was constantly either tired, hungry or sick or maybe all three at once. Everyone wants to know if I am excited. Sure, in some respects but for the most part, I don't want to think about or talk about being pregnant because if I ignore it, I feel better! So quit asking, please. Am I looking forward to squeezing out a head and shoulders out of my cooter? Not really. I don't like pain per se. Am I looking forward to be dazed with a lack of sleep for the next year after my child is born? Worrying about crummies and germs like I am an OCD patient? I am not looking forward to figuring out how to get out of debt or rearranging my house and selling a bunch of my stuff to make room for a baby.

But there are a lot of things I am looking forward to. Like my husband getting to be a dad. I am probably most looking forward to seeing my baby's eyes for the first time for some reason. I am excited to find out what kind of personality the kid is going to have and what things in life they decide to put their heart and mind to doing. I have already started to register for stuff like diaper bags and breast pumps. It's amazing how much some of this crap costs. For plastic and rubber suction machine, we're talking $250. What kind of crap is that? But the shopping is already fun. No names are picked out yet. It's hard to think of names for a kid when I still can't quite imagine the fetus as a real child. I think I will do better once I find out if I am having a boy or girl. (Oh yes, I am a find out kind of person. I can't even wait until Christmas Day to open presents.) When I find out if the person arriving in October is a boy or girl, I think I can imagine them as a person with a personality and ergo a name. Then I can start decorating the room and picking out baby stuff accordingly. My grandma already sent me the cutest bibs. I can't believe an actual person is going to be wearing them. They are so small. The neck opening is only about the size of my upper arm. Craziness!

Now I am feeling much better. I'm at the tail end of the first trimester, so the sickness has abated. (Thank God!) Last weekend was the big gala of concerts, skateboarding, giving away a free car and all over funness. It went off perfectly. Couldn't have asked for better.

So now I am trying to figure out if I should go take a nap or clean the house. The weather is perfect, the birds are chirping their little heads off and everything in the world seems to be pretty close to perfect.

Imagine This

2006-02-22T21:18:00.000-08:00

Maybe I am busy.

So what? Is that so wrong? Too busy to blog?

Part of the problem is that deep down I'm boring so after a year of blogging, I have nothing new to say. It's weird because I could be someone completely different here than in my real life because no one from real life reads this thing. The problem is a lack of imagination, I guess. I blame it on MTV, video games and sugar. I had a good imagination when I was a kid.

Maybe lack of imagination is just safer. Imgination could be dangerous. If I imagined myself as a rich multi-millionaire who went to Maui all the time I might get frustrated with my life. As a kid, you fantasize to make your life more exciting. Walking the dog isn't all that cool. Taking your dog to through the Land of Oz is much cooler. Cows become enemies. Trees become soliders.

As an adult, I guess imagination would just show us that life is always going to be lacking. We will never really get to a place where we are 100% happy with the way things are. There are always bills to be paid, weather to tolerate (yes, even in AZ) white pasty legs to tan, brains to inebriate, things to learn, savings accounts to pad, Brad Pitts to get to know.....and we're never gonna get there.

Dont' call me a hater. Don't say I am negative. In fact, I am a very positive person. But I'm a realist. The lotto just doesn't pay enought anymore.

Hope

2006-02-13T05:32:00.000-08:00

I woke up at 5:30 this morning. Don't ask me why. For most people, I suppose that's not too early. For me, it's way too early. It's an hour since I woke up and still dark. It will be dark for a little bit over another hour. I dislike waking up to darkness. Makes me feel like maybe it's still 3 o'clock in the morning. (For those of you who know me, I'm a sunshine baby.)

What does a person with no kids do so early in the morning? I do laundry, website maintenance, check myspace messages and write something to you all. Oh, and have yogurt.

I have a new obsession in life. It's called Organized Chaos and it's happening on April 1st.

No, this is not a planned April Fool Joke with weapons of mass destruction. It's an all day concert event in my town with 8 bands from all over Arizona playing, a live DJ, skateboarding ramps and rails, raffle, games like sumo suits, bungee races, a 2-story slide and jousting. We might even throw in a rock climbing wall for good measure.

So my new obsession is quite a fun thing to do. Right now the thing I am most concerned with is raising the money for the event. $5,000 should do it. I have $500 so far.

So what to do? Well, this girl put a call in the form of an e-mail out to everyone involved and supporting it to let them know they need to get off their duffers and start asking the local business community for money.

The event is geared towards teens all over the community. We have several youth groups, community based organizations and government organizations geared towards helping teens that are going to be there to hang out and meet some teens.

I know I have written this before, but our small community has a high rate of meth use, teenage pregnancies, high school dropouts, domestic violence and so forth. I guess this is the first drop in the bucket toward starting to show a unified front around here that we are going to do something about it!

My biggest dream is simply to see the teenage culture in this area completely revolutionized. I want the society illnesses to be the exception and no longer the normal rule. The local high school tends to handle the issues in the negative. I think teens need hope. They need a reason. They need to be told who they can become. They need to know the power an uniqueness of being a teenager. They need to know a lot of things. They mostly need hope.

So I know it is weird to think of hope being packaged in an all day concert event with loud music, skateboarders, rebellious teenagers and silly games. But I hope it sparks hope in a lot of them. Hope that what they won't get at school and in many cases won't get at school can be found in people they don't even know lending a hand, putting their hearts out there to help them realize their full potential.

My Life Laid Out

2006-02-04T10:09:00.000-08:00

Maybe I am glad that my life is undramatic. I am not a highly emotional person. I do cry sometimes without much provocation. I get the giggles without much humor sometimes, too.

My weeks are pretty much the same. I am married. I have two dogs. I have a house, a car and the bills that go with them. My mail goes to a PO Box. My drycleaner is the cheapest in town. I pick up pre-made chicken cordoun blue for dinner when I am too tired to cook and burnt out on pizza. My car is usually dusty on the outside because everytime I get it washed, it rains. My habits act as if I have more money than I do. I would rather hire people to take care of the weeds, cut my dogs nails, clean the house than do it myself. I am in hyper-drive and I've been this way for a long time. I consider it cheating to eat cookies, french fries or non-diet soda.

Relationships are the most important thing in my life. I could probably make more money than I do. I could find more time to pull my own weeds, clean my own house and wash my own car if I didn't make so much time available to people.

I don't wake up early in the morning. My typical wake up time is between 8 and 9 in the morning. This also makes me feel guilty, but I usually have evening engagements that make me unable to get home before 9 pm and by the time I unwind it's about 11 or 12.

I spend a lot of time worrying about things I shouldn't. My mind is a steel trap in some ways. When I have a list of things to do, I have a hard time letting something go until I can completely cross it off of my mental list as done. Therefore, I tend to feel like I am pestering people and taking on too much responsibility. I should let people handle what their job is.

Then sometimes I get overwhelmed by everything and I end up shutting down totally. I take a day off for no reason and spend most of the day watching my Friends DVDs in bed and eating chips and salsa or string cheese. This happens about once every other week.

I spend the majority of my time either working at my profession or working on my passion. As the past year has rolled by, my passion in working with teenagers has grown. I have increased my energy and time spent with them. Jeremy and I are planning more and more things to help build a basis for a huge amount of growth. We want to establish a steady program to meet most of the teenage sub-cultures and issues. We want to be able to have after school tutoring to a crisis hotline to kickin' events like our all day concert. Our passion is to see them change. We live in a small community that is overrun with meth use, domestic violence, poverty, teenage pregnancies, crime and a high drop out rate.

Yet even with our current meager resources, we have seen an impact on some individual lives. We know that if we weren't here doing what we are doing, they would be different people without much going for them. As it is, they still struggle and get into trouble but they are managing to be better people than their circumstances are dictating.

Today I am finally taking down the Christmas lights from the roof line, replacing light bulbs that have been burnt out for six months and I'm gonna clean the house. We used to have a set meeting in place on Saturday nights. This is the first Saturday without it. I feel free. It's the only day a week that I now have unaccounted for. So it's 11:22 and I'm still in my PJs. I gotta go change and go to Home Depot.