Posts Tagged ‘life’

Life Update

Shh! Stay quiet. It’s 6:36 am and I’m afraid the baby will wake up any minute now.  I’d like this next hour to myself if it’s possible.


It’s getting closer. Yikes!

Not to say that we aren’t ready.  We are. We are so ready.  The fact that we are moving again (no matter how inevitable) is still daunting.  We have truly loved living with family these last 14 months.  Todd and Grandpa working in the yard together — taking trips and spending time together.  Hanging out in the sewing room with Grandma … learning how to sew and make anything. Sitting in Grandpa’s “office” (two chairs under a large shade tree) with the baby.  Grandpa coming over to “check on that baby” no less than twice a day.  Having my Grandma there at all times. You see, she really helped raise me and I rely on her more that my own mom.

This will truly be a time that will be treasured by us.  They’re not sure they want us to leave.  There’s a little part of me that wishes I could freeze time as well.

We still have a lot to do for Stillwater as well.  Pack (yuck!), find a house, set a moving date.  We do have a washer/dryer, table and chairs, and possibly a recliner! Such a blessing.


Todd has taken to Starbucks like a duck to water.  He gets to make gourmet coffee drinks all day, be super cheerful to customers, and caffeinate himself. (I know, caffeinate is not a real word, but it should be.) His first day on the job, he came home quite anxious and panicked about the job.  Then he told me that he had 6 shots of espresso. Ha. No wonder he’s panicky!

Now that he’s adjusted to the caffeine rush, he’s loving it.  I think that this job was pretty much made for him.

The baby.

She’s incredible.  Really incredible.  She’s a very happy and social baby. The doctor was amazed at her 9 month checkup that she wasn’t screamy and mad.  We went through a short separation anxiety, but she’s adjusted beautifully (even though she still prefers Mama).  She’s into everything.  If she sees it, she wants it.  We have this table in the living room that she walks around (hanging on) and she clears everything off of it.  I put something in the center of it yesterday and she was really mad that she couldn’t get to it.  She kept going around and around the table and then she would squawk at me in frustration! It made me laugh! She’s not really talking yet… her favorite “words” are DaDa and Behbeh (Baby).  She’s cruising the furniture but crawling is where she’s fastest, so she’s not interested in fully walking just yet.  She is standing on her own more and more though! Gosh, I love her.

This mama.

Eh, you know. Same ol, same ol.

I’m just trying to be a better person. Trying to enjoy more, stress less.  My goals for this year include: meal planning, save a ton on money with coupons, find a home church in Stillwater, join a Bible study/mom’s group, be awesome.

Hope you have a great week!


Imposer, Imposter.

Let me begin by apologizing.  I am afraid that you think I only complain, that I live in a world of melancholy.  That is not true.  I just pull from the inmost recesses of my heart when I write, and that is a place of messy corners and tangled emotions.  I have also been displaced from anything that is considered “normal” for over a year.  I think that justifies me a bit in my grumblings. 🙂

The holidays.  My favorite time of year.

I live for this time of year.  I pull out my autumn garlands, homemade wreaths, my sparkly arrangements and I light my “Home for the Holidays” candles.  I keep a fire in the fireplace.  I bake spritz cookies with holiday jam centers, pumpkin pies, and anything cinnamon.

This will be my second holiday season without these things.

We found out this week that we will not be moving out of my grandparents home this month the way we had hoped to.   We will be keeping them displaced.  They don’t mind — they genuinely like us here — but we feel so awful.  Moochers.

I wanted to have a home this holiday season.  I wanted to invite family over for a holiday get-together.  I wanted to bake goodies and play hostess.  We will have Thanksgiving at my grandparents (our) home this year.  It’s not MINE, but it’s something, at least.  Still, it feels like I’m just a imposter, playing hostess to a home that is not mine.

This Christmas will be equally unsettling.  All of our Christmas decorations are still packed away.  I always wanted to give my baby a picture-perfect Christmas, even though it’s just for me.  I wanted to put her “baby’s first Christmas” ornament on our tree.  Her stocking next to ours.  It’s just weird.  Nothing’s the same, anymore.  Last year’s Christmas at the in-laws was strange, because we were snowed out and we had to come later.  It was a gathering of just my husband and I opening gifts a week or two after Christmas while his family watched.  It was awkward and sad for me… it just seemed like a reminder that nothing was the same.

This year, we’re traveling to our BIL and SIL’s house.  It’s going to be Christmas in a new place (although it’s for our traveling ease, and I am thankful for that) and that’s going to be so weird for me.  I’m also a little jealous (yes, I just admitted that).  My SIL, who has been in the family for 9+ months will get to play hostess in her home.  I will have nothing to do.  I will be at loose ends, feeling like I don’t have a role, and therefore feeling like I’m not quite belonging. I already feel like I ceased being me when the baby was born.  I feel so second-rate.  Doesn’t feel fair.

Ha.  Haven’t I learned that already?  Life’s not fair.

That’s my confession.  One of my desires is to be the hostess in my home.  The center of the family like my grandmother has been for years.  I know this year isn’t going to be awful.  It will be sweet and beautiful in its own way.  I just struggle with the changes, and mourn the fact that I don’t get my own personal pride-booster of being told that I’m the perfect hostess, that people love being around me.

See? I’m both and imposer and an imposter.

Is this a normal reaction or am I as crazy as I sound?

A little less conversation, a little more action

How do I put this into words?

…I’m not the greatest friend.

I’m guilty of being a “convenience” friend.  I don’t call all the time.  I basically confide in those whom I am around on a regular basis.  Often, when I am in a quandary, I have no one to talk to because I haven’t made the effort to talk to anyone when times were easy.  I live in my own world.

It’s funny, because most people would categorize me as being a huge people person.  It’s true, I’m very talkative and friendly, but I actually get drained after a day with people.  I prefer a one-on-one conversation.  I am energized when I am here writing in the dark with the television on in the background.

I digress.

Yesterday, I had a conversation with friends that I haven’t talked to in a very long time.  Too long.  These were the people that I would tell you are lifelong friends. The ones you make in college.  The ones you saw fall in love, get married, and have babies.  About a year ago, we began to drift apart.  I got pregnant, lost my job, fell into a self-absorbed funk, and we began to talk less.  Feelings were wounded.  I was resentful. We didn’t communicate the way we should.

When Babybel was born, she became my world. We didn’t have a church family up here, few friends, and we stay at home all the time because it’s the most fiscally responsible thing we could do.  I poured myself into her…I still do.  Whatever did I think or do before she was here? I honestly can’t remember. Remember how I said in an earlier post on how I was obsessive?  Case and point. Especially in the first few months, all I could think of was Babybel.

In the conversation yesterday, we talked about the awkward silence that had permeated our friendship over the past several months.  One point was that all I do anymore is talk about babies.  Ouch.  When did I become that woman?

Being a mother is a good thing.  A great thing.  Ceasing to exist outside of being a mother is NOT a good thing.  Ironically enough, a friend of mine had just written about having a “Mommy Break Room” in her blog that same day.  I think I need a little more than one of those.  I need to regain a life.

I mean, I’m a smart girl.  A really smart girl.  One of those annoying magna cum laude graduates that everyone couldn’t stand.  I’m crafty.  I’m creative.

My boss at the last church I worked for made me believe I wasn’t, because I wasn’t what he wanted me to be.  He made me feel inadequate, dumb, weak. Like I wasn’t good enough.

But I am. Good enough.

I’m going to try to be a better friend.  I’m going to try to call more, make more of an effort.  I’m going to try to regain a life.  I’m going to worship more.  Although I love being a mama more than I’ve ever loved doing anything else, I will FAIL as a mother if I let it be my defining characteristic.  I will fail as a wife as well.

Has anyone else been guilty of letting yourself go in leu of something or someone else?

One moment closer to the end.

There are two things that are certain in this life. Death and Taxes.

What’s our obsession with death? Is it because it is something we cannot truly control? We would like to believe that something of our own devices could control when we die. I am guilty of this. I eat my vegetables to prevent obesity. I exercise to make my heart strong. I wear sunscreen. I buckle my seatbelt. I do yoga and other stress-preventative exercises. I keep toxins out of my home. I purchase organic items (or at least I did before the $4 gas prices). I read my Bible. I try to live a moral life. I’m kind to others (the way I would like to be treated). If it’s good for you, I try to do it.

One thing I like is a tan. Before I heard how bad it was for you, I tanned every spring. Since I was 14. These past few years I’ve tried to stay away. But I always cave in. This year, I tried sunless tanner. I turned into an Oompa Loompa. Todd made fun of me for days, and I resolved to hit the beds and get a little glow before I blinded everyone at the water park this year. Do you want to know how I came to that decision?

We’re all dying anyway.

I believe in life after death. I know where I’m going. I love life, but who’s going to say that I’m not going to follow every rule only to be hit by a bus or a drunk driver? Or get lung cancer even though I’ve never smoked a single cigarette? Or as the plane crashes down I’ll say “oh isn’t this nice”? (Isn’t it ironic, don’t you think?)

I’ve fought life every step of the way. I don’t fit a single ideal that the world tells me is great. I’m 5″3′. I’m 170 lbs, and a size 10/12. I have a beakish nose and pointy chin (great for halloween, bad for everyday). I can carry a tune, but I’m not a great singer. Every person I have ever been extremely close to has told me that I’m far from perfect. Yet, I strive for perfection.

And I’ve made my life MISERABLE.

I’ve found myself to be an average looking, chubby girl with an ordinary voice, an average intellect (not nearly as intelligent as other members of my family), an a mediocre life. All through following the rules. Trying to live life the way “I should.” There’s not a single person in my life that’s impressed or amazed by me, and I’m afraid that I’ll never know on earth a love like that. Maybe I’ve made myself unlovable by trying too hard. I’m dying. We all are. How can I stop wasting my life and be happy?

And how many other people in the world feel just like me?