Knitting for stress

I'm knitting. Yes that's right: knitting. And loving it. It's relaxing for me, but I also think it might be making me go cross-eyed. Well, that and starting at the computer. For a while I thought I might need glasses because my eyes weren't focusing and I was getting headaches. Now I think it has more to do with this devil that is the computer than my eyes.

Are the holidays supposed to be stressful? I mean, pretty much everyone seems to get stressed around the holidays. Which I think is ironic because aren't the holidays supposed to be a time when you relax and become less stressed? It is pretty sad how the purpose of the holidays has been so grossly distorted. What used to be a time of giving thanks and celebrating the birth that brought us life, has become a wild, greedy gorge fest. And I'm not pointing fingers because I have definitely done my fair share of wild and greedy gorge festing. Maybe that is why I just can't seem to get into the holidays this year. It's not that I don't love the decorations and the festive-ness of the season...it's just that the thought of the holidays makes me tired. And I don't even have to do anything! I can't imagine if I had to buy presents for a pack of childern as well as possibly hosting relatives or (gasp) preparing a feast! Ah, yet more evidence that I am obviously not ready for children.

I know I wrote in the fall that fall was like my New Year. And that is true, I DO like to make personal changes in the fall. But the new year is my New Year too. I guess I like to double up. So now, is this year fades, I have been thinking of the dawning of the New Year coming up. There are so many things I want for this year! I'm not into making resolutions because I see "New Year's Resolutions" as an interchangable heading for "Impossible Standards Resulting in Failure." So I don't make resolutions but I do try and make changes. And I'm sure this year is going to be no different.

I just think 2010 is going to be great. I hope it brings solidity to our lives and security for the future. I hope it brings new friends and new family members. I hope it brings happiness and FUN. It's funny, when you're young you sort of have the idea that life just happens, and it does, but life also takes work. A lot of work. This past year has been a lot of learning in that area for me. So now I'm hoping that my new-found knowledge will help me make this year better. Now that I have accepted the fact that I have to work (hard!) for the things I want, maybe it wont be such a suprise when life shows up ready to work.

A lot of my life right now is down time. And when I have down time I think. And right now I'm thinking about the future: what I want for me and what I want for us. So well see how it pans out. It is going to be amazing, in a year, to look back and see how far I've come. I can't wait!

Weekend

Nothing much new is going on for me to post. This weekend was super busy but very rewarding and fun.

Friday,Trey and I went to New Moon. WHY we went to it when it was opening weekend and I knew there would be gaggles of teeny-bopper girls there (just the kind that drive me nuts and, incidentily, the kind I probably was) I have no idea. We got there and the line was out the door and down the street. Yes, that's right: down the street. Ugh. At this point I am remembering how the first Twilight movie made me want to rip my eyes out and wondering if it's even worth it.

Finally we get into the movie and I am sitting there expecting to be let down...again. Turns out, I was dissappointed, or maybe the term I'm looking for is "pleasantly surprised." The movie, I estimate, was roughly 1000 times better than the first. As someone who is a fan of the books (yes I admit) I was very much relieved. In fact, I think they actually spent money on this one! Not to mention that Jacob was enough to make every Edward girl question their loyalties. Yum. (um Trey, you're still my number one but us girls are allowed to crush on fake people. Just sayin')

Saturday was spent cleaning the house which was, for me, emmensly satisfying except for the part where Trey said, "But this is how you get your stress out, right?" No. No it's not. Just like I don't like to be found cooking in the kitchen in my summer dress and pearls. Or really, at all.

Sunday started early with both Trey and I working at the cafe and ended late with me getting caught up in all kinds of little craft projects. I love love love crafts and now our apartment has a few bitty decorations to show for it. It got me all excited about other crafts I could do too! O and all the scrapbooking possibilities! O my! In between we celebrated an early Thanksgiving with Trey's family and I was reminded AGAIN how blessed I am in the in laws category. This week is real Thanksgiving with my other in laws and I'm excited about that as well. As a girl who thought the only option was a mother in law who didn't like her, I am happy to report that I have been blessed with TWO wonderful mother in laws whom I love and are splendid to me and I couldn't be happier.

Turkey day is approaching and the Holiday Spirit is finally creeping into my soul. Let the festivities begin!

Lists

I am a great lover of lists. I adore lists. Lists complete me. I keep lists about everything: groceries (oh how origional), Christmas presents (for other people. I can't think of anything I want), lists of craft ideas, lists of meal ideas, lists of things I like, life lists, lists of blog ideas, lists of book ideas, to do lists, (Lots of to do lists. I definitely have more than one to do list.), wish lists, lists of songs I like and might want to buy, lists of things I don't want to forget. Actually, I think a big part of the reason I like lists is because I can't seem to remember things unless I write them down, and listing is a good way to do that.

I keep my lists in my phone. Hello! The genius that invented notes in phones? I heart you. I mean, I carry my phone with me everywhere, even places I'm not supposed to, so what better place do I have to keep all my ever-growing, ever-changing lists? Awesome. So...today I thought I would transfer some of my lists to my blog. That way, if my phone ever runs away or gets mutilated, I will still have my precious lists. Ok, I email them to myself sometimes for the same reason, but come on. I gotta write something.

One of my lists in my phone is labeled "What I want to be know as." One day, when I was having an identity crisis, I decided to put into words the things that I wanted to be. So...

Leader
Apologist
Writer
Author
Mother
Woman of God
Good stewardess
Humorist
Thoughtful
Generous
Creative
Fun

Next, jobs I think I might be interested in;

Photography
Physical thearpy
Librian
Reporter/journalist
Counselor

My Favorites (boy this one has changed some since I last updated it!) And I'm thinkin this list should just maybe be titled "Things I like" because "Favorites" would be more like: favorite color, favorite place, favorite food ect ect. Anyway:

Scrubs (haha not so much anymore!)
Cute dresses
iPhones (ya the novelity wears off)
Nose rings
Vintage Polly Pocket and Littlest Pet Shop
Long necklaces
Yoga mats (ya maybe until I found out yoga is HARD!)
Cute running shoes/clothes
Bikinis
Blogging and blog reading
Rubberband animals (that wore off quickly too)
Bunnies
Owls
Crafting
Scrapbooks
Couponing

And...my bucket list. Such as it is. Actually, this started out as a "Things I want to do before I'm 30" list and has morphed into more of a bucket list although a lot of these things I WOULD like to get done before I'm 30. Time's a tickin yo!

Have a baby
Have style
Learn to dance
Get a six pack (hey a girl can dream)
Run a marathon
Grow my hair to my elbows (almost...)
Get something published
Finish school
Make a magazine
Sell something on the internet
********** (this one is internet private)
Visit Europe
Lean about photography
Have a garden
Have a craft blog with things I actually make
See a Broadway show

That last list is probably the one I update the most.

Keep in mind that these change ALL THE TIME.

So, I guess what made me decide to write this post is this: as I was looking through my lists on my phone the other day, I realized that most of them were my way of working out who I am. It's funny, people always seem to be trying to find themselves, I'm no different, but everyone has different approaches. I probably reverted to lists because of my love of organization. Lists give me something tangible that I can look at and check things off of. I didn't set out to try and find myself when I started writing lists. I just was trying to keep track of things. It was only recently, like I said, that I found out that lists seem to be my "method." There are just too many things that I want to do and see and be. I guess, this is how I keep track.

So, that's me. I wonder how other people set out to find themselves?

Sparkle and the Jewelry Box

Once upon a time there was a fairy named Sparkle. Sparkle lived in the land of the fairies, but her favorite thing to do was go and spy on the humans. There was one house in particular where she liked to watch. This house had a little girl, about five years old, that fascinated Sparkle. Every morning, after her chores, the little fairy would fly through the leaves of the forest, flitter over the little creek and settle herself on the windowsill ouside the little girl's room.

Sparkle was a young fairy and, as such, was not quite old enough to be a fairy godmother. She knew that when she came of age she would be assigned to a human that she would watch over. Sparkle desperately hoped that she would be assigned to the little girl in the house she liked to watch, but for now all she could do was wait and hope. She desperately loved this little girl, whose name was Violet. She would laugh as Violet played around her room and would cry when the little girl was sad.

One day, during one of her visits, Sparkle noticed something new in Violet's room. It was a shiny little jewelry box. When the lid was opened it played a tiny, tinkly little song and a delicate little ballerina twirled on the spot. It was obvious that Violet loved her new treasure. She was squealing with delight at the ballerina and kept winding up the knob to play the music over and over. Now, as you may know, fairies are so small that they can only feel one emotion at a time. Sparkle saw the little ballerina in the jewelry box and was taken over by an emotion she had never felt before: jealousy. Jealousy consumed the little fairy until the tips of her little pointed ears turned green. She wanted to be beautiful like the little ballerina. She wanted to dance to the little song. But most of all, she wanted to be loved by little Violet.

In a stormy mood, Sparkle rose up and flew back to the fairy village. Up, up, up one of the surrounding trees she flew until she reached the highest branch where she plunked herself down and sat to stew. After a while, the jealousy was replaced with sadness and Sparkle flew back down to the ground. She went to see her friend, the oldest fairy in the village, to see if the older fairy could help her with her problem.

After Sparkle explained her plight, the old fairy said, "Sparkle, you know that fairies are magical creatures. I can see that you are very distraught and I can offer you help, though it will come at great cost."

"What can be done?" asked Sparkle.

"If you are willing to give up your life as a fairy and give up your wings, you can trade places with the little ballerina in the jewelry box."

Sparkle was very excited and, being so small, could not be anything but excited so she quickly agreed. The old fairy said some magic words and Sparkle felt herself start to change. Everything was dark and she felt her wings drop away. Suddenly, she saw a thin crack of light, that grew wider and wider. She realized that she was inside the little music box inside Violet's bedroom. The music began to play and Sparkle's feet, rooted in place, began to turn around and around. She had become the little ballerina and she was happy.

Years passed and Violet grew too old for the little jewelry box. She played with it less and less until one day, she stopped playing with it at all. The box got dusty and was finally moved up into the attic for storage. Sparkle sat in the dark, her feet rooted to the base of the jewelry box and a permanent smile pasted on her face. There was nothing to be done. Her wings and her fairy magic had left her when she wished to become the ballerina. Forever she would be fated to wait until some other little girl was presented with the, now antique, jewelry box.

Be careful what you wish for.

Imagination gone

I find myself sitting here, again, not being able to think of anything to write about. It's frustrating not only because I want to write just to unclog my brain, but also because I just find the typing so relaxing.

I have tried to pick up journaling again as well. Ever since I really got into blogging I haven't really kept a journal. It's just so much easier to type than to handwrite things. Well, that and the fact that I have always seemed to journal about boy troubles and now that I've settled down with a man, I don't have any teen angst to spout. However, I have tried to pick it up again. There are just some things that are better left off the internet. And I need somewhere to spill due to my lack of girlfriends at the moment.

I don't know WHY I seem to be in this constant state of writers block lately. My suspecions remain that it has something to do with the fact that a majorty of my life is eventless. Not that I necessarily want to write about life events (I am currently put of by "my day" type postings), I just find that when things are happening to and around me they give me more ideas for creativity. Of course, I can make the argument, even to myself, that sitting here all day with nothing to do would be a good time to let my imagination roam! Yet, when I go looking for my imagination, it seems to escape me. Have I lost my imagination, internet? I was warned once that it could happen, but I never though it could happen to me! How could it when my imagination was a wild thing with no abandon. I know that part of it left when my confidence was stolen. But I still feel like I could get that part back.

Now, I feel like I should take some of that back. I do still have my imiganation. It's there, it's just elusive. I use it to narrate my life in my head and to imagine all sorts of things. I just don't seem to be able to use it to write. It is selective. And it's maddening.

I'm still constantly writing down book and blog ideas in my phone but when I actually have a chance to write? Either I'm not in the mood to write about those things or they reveal themselves to be altogether lame. Are all my ideas doomed to be lame or have I not hit the vein of gold I'm so desperately searching for?

While at my inlaws this weekend I decided to watch Twilight in leiu of the football the guys were watching. (Have I mentioned that I DETEST football?) I haven't seen the movie since it came out in theatres (O can I even describe how disappointed I was in this cinimatic disaster?) so I decided to give it another chance since I haven't read the book recently, making it less fresh in my mind and, hopefully, making the movie less disappointing. That and the fact that I DO want to see New Moon despite my doubts finally led me to pop in the DVD and settle down to watch. It wasn't as bad as the first time but it still wasn't great. My mother in law and I ended up watching the "behind the scenes" stuff on the bonus disk and I found that more interesting than the movie; a first for me. All I remember thinking is "if this lady can write a book, I can too." It gave me hope until I was hit full on in the stomach with the realization that I STILL DON'T HAVE AN IDEA. People say that getting your book published is hard but I think I'm going to have it even harder if I don't come up with something to actually write about. Sigh.

I'm starting to have a hard time understanding why I want to be a writer so bad if I don't have anything to write about. In my head I picture writers more as people who have too much to write about than too little. I'm not exactly sure that it is a good sign that I don't seem to have any inspiration. So why the heck do I want to be a writer so bad? Is it just because I love to read? Is it beause I can't act or sing so I don't know how else to leave my mark on the world? Ugh who knows? I think that I just want to have something that is mine. Characters who are mine. A story that is mine.

But I also don't want it to be average. So much of what I read and see is average. I want it to be great! I want it to be the type of book like I love: the ones that make you want to be in them. The ones where the characters become real to you and you look for them in public because you just know they've got to be out there. I guess that's why I can't write yet. I haven't met those characters yet. I know I have to meet them before I can start introducing them at parties. Their world has to be somewhere I visit before I can bring my friends. I have to believe in the story myself before I try to convince others that it's real.

So I might not always have fodder for my blog. I guess I'll just have to keep hunting, searching, for the story that is to be mine. And maybe writing that story will catalyst me into writing better blogs, though I'm really trying to do just the opposite. I just hope that if I keep writing, even if it's about nothing, that maybe one day out from my fingers will flow just what I've been looking for. So here I go, back to the drawing board, back to practicing.

As seen by ME!

I love fall. I think I have already established that on this blog. But you know what I especially love? Fall in the city! Well, that, and real Fall and Fall That Includes Pies.

I had a sweet craving today. O huge suprise. Like "having a sweet craving" isn't just an excuse to eat sweets. I'm on to me. Lucky for me, the lady I work with was also having a sweet craving, so we enlisted the help of the Only Other Person Who Works With Us (aka our service tech) to hold down the fort while we headed to McDonalds.

Now, I usually try to avoide the Micky D's. I don't know why but when I see those golden arches my mind and body say "pool of oil and grease! toxic! abort!" This particular McDonalds also happens to be in the decidedly lower end as far as McDonalds go. There isn't anything in particular that makes it stand out negatively to me in and the otherwise consistant sea of negative aspects that I associate with the franchise. It just gives me the heebs. It could be the fact that it looks like a little grease spot on the surface of this city. Or it could be the cat calls that issue as you walk in. Or it could be the fact that it is nearly impossible to get in and out due to it's less than ideal location. Of course, it's location could be a blessing in disquise: discouraging people from entering and, thus, diminishing the remainder of their day.

Anyway, you get the picture. So, sweets being our goal, and not knowing where anything else was in the city, we headed for this little beauty. Of course, the whole ordeal took much longer than it should have and we bemoaned the invention of the double drivethru. (You know the ones: they force you to let people from another lane merge into the main drivethru lane and don't seem to serve any purpose except making everything take longer and making everyone mad.)

Finally, sweet treats in hand we headed back, windows down, and I was able to block the bad memory and focus on what a nice day it was. The sun was out, the air was cool and crisp and the colors of the trees were breathtaking. There were people walking on the streets and seen were scarves and light jackets and gloves. I love it. This is true fall. When you grow up in a place where your two season choices are winter and summer it really makes you appreciate those less seen, more beautiful (I think) seasons. It also doesn't hurt that this weather has sucked out all the humidity, thus suspending our love hate relationship for the time being.

It's a beautiful day, my pies have been scarfed and the weekend draws near. I'm dressed for the season in my scarf and stockings and I'm about to make myself some nescafe. What more could a girl want?

Hey, I know you- updated

I read a lot of blogs. I have always liked reading blogs. Well, ever since I discovered them back in the days when I thought myspace was cool. I don't know why I love it so much but I look for them all over the internet.

I like personal blogs because I'm nosey and I like to read about people's lives. More than that though, I like seeing how they put things. I like bloggers who can take a mundane event and make it hilarious or important. I like how different people have different writing styles and you could take one subject and 20 people would write about it 2o different ways.

I like how raw blogging is. Weather it's made up stories or journal-type entries, blogging is so raw! I like that it is unedited. I like seeing the typos and the flaws. I think I would love being an edititor but I hear it helps if you have had something published. Ya...that's on my life list.

It's like reading someone's journal: something I've always wanted to do but never did.

The thing about reading blogs is they make me feel, sometimes, like I'm the only one reading them and that they were written entirely for my benefit and entertainment. And then I start to feel like I know the people who's blogs I'm reading. Which is sometimes true and sometimes not. But now I'm afraid if I ever happened to see the writer of one of the blogs I read in public, I would embarrass myself by going up and talking to them. Ok, I'm not really afraid I would do that. I know myself too well.

I'm not shy, I'm just reserved. Now this may come as a shock to people who used to know me, but I consider myself quiet. So that's how I know I wouldn't go up and talk to a blogger in public. I mean, I am not afraid to talk to people. I'm fine, laid back, cool, whatever, but I'm not "outgoing" most of the time I guess. I'm "ingoing." Haha. And sometimes I am more "outgoing" than others. I might be broken. I'm not sure.

I've started swimming! I decided that the reason I wasn't going to the gym because I was dreading running. I've always felt like running was the only option so I changed that misconception in my brain and decided to do some other things till I get back in shape and then take up running again. If I want. I figure that's the only way I'm going to get myself to the gym. If I don't feel like I have to do something I don't want to do, I'll be more likely to go. Otherwise, I might not go at all and that wouldn't be helping anyone. I guess I was thinking all or nothing and I had to realize I could do something in between. And I've loved swimming so that's good. I guess I'll just keep mixing it up.

And that last paragraph has nothing to do with the rest of this post. I just wanted to write it down before I forgot. Cuz otherwise I wont remember. Now when I go back and read my blog someday, I'll know what I was up to. And see? Now I'm back on the subject of blogging. Because if I didn't blog, or journal or something, I'm not sure I would remember my life. And right now I like typing more than writing so blogging it is.

And that, people, is the end of this post.

*update* I literally just saw one of the ladies who's blog i read, like, right in front of my face and I didn't say a word. See? Point proven.

Every little thing is going to be alright

Last night I bought the lie.

I bought the lie that satan was spoon feeding me, and I bought it hook, line and sinker. I felt like I was scrambling to find a foothold and I started to believe that it wasn't going to be ok.

Trey and I had our first "real" fight last night I think. It was about money. Not a big surprise since that is one of the leading things couples fight about. And there I was, losing traction on what I know to be true and, instead, drowning right where satan wanted me.

I've struggled some with depression in my life. Not too terribly much, but enough to know that it isn't just "being sad." It was weird, to me, that I struggled with depression since I have always had a mostly positive outlook on life. Depression is so hard to explain. It feels like death and people who have never experienced it just assume that you can "will yourself out" so to speak. You can't.

So back to the present: Last night I felt that Dark Cloud that is depression trying to move in over my life. And I told it to get the heck outa here. I went to church (something I have been trying to make a point to do, instead of just working there) and I spent a lot of time thinking. And I decided that I need to make some changes. You can't get a different result if you keep doing the same thing over and over again. They say that is the definition of insanity. And things aren't really workin out for me right now. So I've got to change something here on my end.

I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired.

I don't know what I'm going to do, as of yet. I know that sitting at my desk with the internet is not workin out for me. I know that never getting any exercise isn't workin out for me. I know that watching so much TV isn't workin out for me. So I've got to change those things at least.

Well, today I am having a great day. Yes, I have to work. Yes, I got almost no sleep last night. But it's ok. Because I'm changing my perspective from *grumble grumble* to "every little thing, is gonna be alright."

Ciao.

Blank

I've still got nothin. Everything I write turns to dust. I'll try to spend some time staring off into space this weekend and maybe come up with something new.

Till then,

Stay classy internet.

More of a journalistic entry

I know I've been saying that I'm going to post more about the friend thing. In fact, I think I said that I would post about it yesterday? Ya...I lied. Sorry about that. It's coming, just...not today.

Are there people who constantly have things to write about? Because it seems that, for me, my inspiration comes in waves. It also seems that a lot of my ideas, and I do have a lot, sound way better in my head than they are. You should see my unpublished drafts. There may be more drafts than published entries to this blog.

I'm tired today. Have I mentioned that? To be honest, I've been tired a lot lately. And sickly. The plan was to get back into working out this week. Who want's to guess if that happened? Ya, you're right: Nope. Usually I'm fine after I've actually gotten myself up. The hard part for me has always been getting myself up. 'Course, Trey isn't much better. I practically have to drag him out of bed everyday. So this doesn't equal much working out for us. I guess we could work out at night. I used to always work out at night when I lived in Utah. Sometimes even super late at night, even though I had to get up early the next day. What happened to my dicipline? Now, by the time I get off work, heading to the gym is the LAST thing I want to do.

Not only did I used to have more dicipline but I used to have more energy and spunk and general good life skills. I don't want to point the finger but I think my biggest problem right now is this job. It is dragging the life outa me. It's sapping my energy and my willpower. It's KILLING me, ya'll.

Actually, things have gotten slightly better. I was having some major panic issues the past few weeks but I finally got to a content place. Let me rephrase that: I've gotten to a peaceful place. I'm not exactly content, and I'm still interested in moving along, but I'm not AS stressed out. I know now that God is going to work things out and I just have to take things one day at a time. I'm no longer desperate and I'm no longer scared. I'm accepting of the way things are for now. And I'm waiting to see what happens.

All that to say, I'm still not totally stress-free. Sitting at a desk all day without anything to break up the monotony is not exactly conducive to a happy lifestyle. Not to meantion that the traffic I have to sit in everyday makes me want to scratch things. But I'll be ok, like I said, for now.

I've got to find some way to get back some motivation. The only time I feel my "get up and go" is when I'm working at the cafe. Other than that, most of the things I do seem to be pointless. Don't get me wrong, I love my husband, I love my life, outside work. It's just that work takes up most of my time so it's become kind of a central figure in my life and takes up a lot of brain space.

I guess, to wrap this up, it's hard for me to be creative and write creativly in this setting. I'm most creative when I have high emotions: more moody and poetry writing-y when I'm down and more creative and up for writing stories when I'm happy. Right now, when I'm just apathetic, it's hard for me to spit anything out but apathy. What goes in must come out and all that. Sigh.

The thing about this blog is this: when I first created it I was all obsessed with couponing and stuff so I thougt I would record all about that (not that I don't still coupon, I do). I have kind of an addictive personality. Or maybe like and all or nothing type personality? I don't know. All I know is that I'll get on a kick about something and then, a lot of times, it will fade and something else will take it's place. Anyway, then I wanted to write stuff people will read. And now...well now I see this blog more as a practice space for me. I still want to write someday. Or now. But sometimes I have nothing to write about so I just get on and write posts like this. Like, even if I don't have anything to say, I feel like I still need to write something.

So ya. This blog isn't always going to be golden. In fact, it might not even be brass most of the time. But it's going to be here. To write stuff to remind me, to practice, for random bouts of creativity, for recording stuff. Here it is.

Night talker

Last night I had to go to a meeting an hour away. Because of the time change and the NUMEROUS questions of my peer employees, I, and the other lady I work with, had to drive back in the dark.

As I was blabbing incessently, something I often do when driving at night, I started to analyze myself. I have always been a night talker. Most of the time I'm Miss Generally Average Talker. But for some reason, at night, especially in the car, the floodgates open. Ask my mom. Ask my husband. There have been many late night shopping trips with my mom when I've talked her ear off, even after being silent on the way out. And I'm suprised my husband hasn't fallen asleep at the wheel as I bore him to death with my constant babbling on road trips. The funny thing is, during the day when we're in the car, I am silent as the grave. Usually being in the car makes me tired, which makes me quiet. But at night, well, I don't know, but I just can't shut up. It's odd, because sometimes I even realize that I'm talking, well, an awful lot, but it's like I can't stop.

Fortunately I usually only do this with people I know well. I don't, you know, like talk strangers to death.

So, back to last night, my coworker's phone rings and I have to stop my endless stream of babble while she talks on the phone. And while I'm being quiet, I start to think about how I'm talking and talking and I start to wonder WHY? My brain comes up with all kinds of nonsense and I come to the conclusion that maybe I talk so much because I can't see that well at night? So maybe, because of the loss of my sense of sight, I overcompensate with talking? Except talking isn't a sense so that might not exactly work...

And then I realize, I am overtalking to someone who, while we get along really well and I consider to be a friend, is probably not someone I should be doing this to. And THEN I realized that I might be ready for a friend.

After Trey and I got married, I kind of fell off the friend wagon. I don't know, things happened, I changed, and I didn't go out looking for new friends. And I have been perfectly fine with that. In fact, I had come to the conclusion, about a month ago, that this has been a time in my life where I have been ok being alone and spending time with my husband. It was a very peaceful realization. Cut to last night and me having another realization: I think I'm ready to start the search now. I'm ready to have someone I can spill too. A girl friend.

Sooo...I'll get on that now.

I'll talk about it more...tomorrow? Yes, probably tomorrow. Right now I am tired and my vision is blurry. Maybe I also need to look into glasses?

Irrational things I think about my future children

In lieu of something meaningful, here is a random post that I wrote a few months ago. I can't think today so please enjoy my meaningless ramblings. Also, we need prayer. Also, this post might just be better to skip.

What if someone close to us or in our family steals my baby names and then I can't name my children what they are already named in my head?


What if I can't figure out how to teach my children to read correctly and they have no concept of "th" or "gh" or silent letters and they say spaghetti like "SPAAAG-HET-HE?"


What if I can't figure out how to potty train them and they have to go to school in diapers and all the kids will laugh at them until they figure out how to do it on their own?


What if I have too many kids to fit in my back seat and they can never have friends go with us to do things because there will be NO ROOM.


What if everyone wants to hold my cute little babies so bad that I barely ever get to hold them and I'm sad?


What if no one ever wants to hold my babies and I get burned out and sad?

What if my babies never sleep?

What if I have, like, 7 at one time and I can't afford a nanny?

What if they don't like me?

What if other kids don't like them?

What if they are bad?

What if they always want to sleep in my bed? I would HATE that.

Maybe I'm not ready...