Her Story

The Reality of Dreams

2011-08-26T13:57:00.000-07:00

My dreams lately have been curiously memorable and intense. This week alone I have shared 3 of my dreams with someone else because they stood out to me that much. I wonder if my brain is telling me something?

I've been reading a book that says some believe dreams are some alternate state of consciousness. A state in which you are free from your body and allowed perform feats, see sights, and understand ideas your physical body hinders you from.

Reading that made me think of the Matrix.

I love Evil

2011-08-24T10:17:00.000-07:00

Evil lives in my home. Evil incarnate is my cat Slate. Slate and Fifi*would get along splendidly.

The trouble is, he's not purposely being evil, he's just mischievous.
His rambunctiousness usually leads to spilled water, fallen decor, and incessant whining at my door in the morning. Usually nothing of consequence.

Unfortunately, the fur turned.
He scratched my pup Rubble's eye...

While I sit here taking a break from mundane office work, writing my blog, my pup is sitting in a hospital kennel waiting for an ocular examination. It didn't look too bad, there was no blood and Rubble wasn't in much pain, but through internet research, it seems that the severity of the injury of a dog's eye can be easily misjudged.

So for now I await. What will happen... we shall see [or not].

*aka Lucifer [Satan]- My husband decided to give him a less frightening malicious sounding nickname.

Adonde Vienes

2011-08-22T15:14:00.000-07:00

First, I want to say, it is my goal to blog at least each weekday (M-F) this week. I used to be a consistent blogger and miss those days. I think as of late, I have made it more complicated than it has to be comparing my blog style/skills to other greats out there. But I don't have to be them. I just have to be .me.

Yet, there is where the question lies. I've been going through a lot of changes recently in my life. And discovering me is the biggest cause of the waves.

A few things that have fallen immune to the "change" virus over the last two years:
1. Career goals
2. Hairstyle
3. Weight
4. Friendships
5. Pets

I feel that innumerable aspects of my life [and probably more than I realize] have changed over the last few years, and I don't quite get me any more. Trouble is I'm over-analytical, circumstantially requiring to make logical sense out of, well, everything.

It gets old fast and I'm trying to adapt. I want to live in the moment. Not past or present, but now. But that's a lot harder than it sounds for an precocious, pretentious, analytical, overachiever as I am.

I was on vacation in Mexico the last week and I tore myself away from [most] my worries and just was. It was a great feeling, and it was emotional to leave. I want to be able to live in that freedom everyday.

Here's to trying.

Just a few pics to satiate curiosities :)

Swing Set

2011-07-22T09:59:00.000-07:00

I was never a child for a swing set. Don't get me wrong, I loved them, yet the pleasure I derived from what should be an exhilarating experience was inhibited by my comparison to the skills of my playmates. I am not, was not and will never be athletic. All my friends could do fancy dismounts from their swings, and make themselves swing super high. But little 'ol me had to struggle just to pull myself up on to the swing. The only time I gained swing altitude was with the assistance of a pusher, and nobody likes to push someone else for long. Thus, I always found myself negating the joy I was experiencing because it wasn't as great [or so I thought] as the what my surrounding peers were experiencing.

I thought the days of playground lore were over, yet here I am again, finding myself on a swing set. A mood one to be exact. It is no exaggeration that my emotions have been fluctuating drastically over the last few weeks. One moment I will feel elated, I'll laugh at the silliest things, and just find enjoyment in the simple things of life. The next I'll feel drained of life, the mundane is amplified, depleting the little strength I have to face each second.

I'm sure this all has to do with desperately needing a vacation. Not just from the sub-par summer weather we have been having, but also from my chronically confounding circumstances.

And so it has begun. A count down. 23 days...

In May we booked a 6 day, 5 night vacation [not sure it's going to be long enough!] to the Mexican Riviera. We will be staying in at an all-inclusive resort. I would like to use my vacation time to do something adventurous, travel and see the world. But my lack of energy and funds constrains my dreams from becoming reality. So for this vacation I will be a beach bum. I may or may not immerse myself in the local culture. I may or may not just do absolutely nothing productive for one day. We will see. But hopefully when I return, I will have successfully dismounted this histrionic swing set.

Taming of the Curl

2011-06-24T16:54:00.000-07:00

I've accomplished something I thought was impossible. No, I did not learn to skateboard, drive a manual on a hilly-terrain, or fly on Aladdin's magic carpet*. In fact, I did something much more spectacular!

I figured out how to wear my hair curly....

AND I LIKE IT!

****Wild Applause****

Yes, yes, folks. I have accomplished the greatest feat of all feats! And here is a picture for your viewing pleasure.

Thanks to the inspiration of a fellow blogger, and a classmate who wears curly hair spectacularly, I took a 30-day au naturale challenge. I must admit there were days where I felt defeated, and overwhelmed [by frizziness!]. But I have learned to suffer through those times and have come out the other side. As to how long this will last, I'm not sure. Only time shall tell.

*I told you Disneyland has really been on my mind didn't I?

The Power of Two

2011-06-24T16:32:00.000-07:00

I have only two more weeks until I my summer semester is completed. In hindsight, the semester has scooted on by rather quickly. However, my recollection informs me, when I started the semester, the end seemed three hundred eternities [yes... three hundred eternities!] away. I could barely fathom the end of the 4.5 hour class, let alone the end of the semester.

It's been almost as tough as riding "It's a Small World"* four times in a row. Luckily, the fact I am actually interested in what I am studying has saved the day. Along with the peace my relationship with God has given me, and my understanding husband.

I'm a couple presentations, papers, out-of-class experiences, and chapters away from the end. For now, I'll down a few more Diet Dr. Peppers and keep dreaming of the sunny beaches of my Mexican All-inclusive vacation in just a few months [August for our 5 year anniversary to be exact!], and I'm sure to get through just fine.

*Sorry, Disneyland is truly at the forefront of my daydreams as of late. Even the torturous attraction It's a Small World seems thoroughly appealing.

Chapter 27

2011-05-05T14:10:00.001-07:00

27

Such an odd little number that, starting tomorrow, will define and haunt me for a year.

27 years ago today I began my journey [descent, ascent or transcendence: you pick] into the world. After 16 hours I arrived at my destination [planet earth] and began my pilgrimage through the odyssey called life.

Through my 27 years I have experienced Costa Rican Sunshine, Texas Storms, and Disneyland Bliss, I've done a lot more in my brevity than many have done with their lives, yet I have experienced so little in scope of the world.

I'm not who my younger-self imagined I would be at 27. I thought I would be a mother by now, not sure that I ever ascribed to a certain career as a dream, but I definitely envisioned myself as more settled than I am.

One thing I've discovered, I am a young soul trapped in adult responsibilities [not that I don't love most of the things I am tied to]. I will always dream of happily ever afters, make a wish when I see a bright star, and attempt to break the world record for biggest bubblegum bubble.

I'm far from the stuffy, mature, tired person I imagined I would be at 27, but I am happy about who I am. I hope that 27 years from now there is still a part of me that enjoys the simple childish pleasures in life.

The Holiday Season is Here and So Am I!

2010-12-01T12:55:00.000-08:00

I would begin this blog with an empathetic apology outlining all my multiple excuses of why I have not blogged in a while (ok it's been over a year). But that would be expected and cliche so I will skip that. Just please realize that a lot of changes have happened in my life over the last year and they have made my life infinitely busier, resulting in the lack of posts*.

To answer just a few common questions:
1. Yes, I have lost weight
2. No, I am not pregnant and do not plan on it within the next few years
3. Yes, I am happy

Though my blog has been empty, my life has been roaring with change and possibilities. Before I saw my life as predictable and I was confident of each new step and where I was going. Now I am on an adventure (as I like to say, "Jesus Style") and loving every moment.

Sometimes it is stressful. Sometimes it seems too much to handle and I feel that I might just crumble to pieces like last year's cheap Christmas ornament, but with the confidence that I am walking in God's plan, the support of my husband, and the fun and vitality my friends, family, and pets bring to my life I am thriving.

I can't say that I will be making another appearance here soon, but I hope this blog appeases the masses** for the time being.

*If you know about the changes great. If not I'm not narcissistic enough to outline every about my life on the world wide web in hopes that everyone will read it and pretending that all my readers are so interested. But I do not mind sharing if asked.

**Masses otherwise known has Jacob Becthel

The Unknown

2009-10-02T14:00:00.000-07:00

WARNING: if you're currently susceptible to feelings of woe and pity do not read any farther:

The other day as I logged into my home mortgage company's website to make my mortgage payment (and the pity begins) I was asked to make some changes for security purposes. The company has added another level of security. This required me to do two things:
1. Choose a picture that has no significance to me, that supposedly will resonate with me for future logins and come up with some silly caption which they term a "catchphrase" to go a long with the picture.
2. Choose three security questions and answer them in case I need to reset my password.

The first was an easy accomplishment. I found myself mildly entertained by picking out a picture of some ugly version of a cow.. or was it an ox... something in that cow-ish species. I then of course picked a seemingly witty "catchphrase" to go along.

I then begin to browse the the security question options. Each of the three questions had a different set of choices to pick from. I felt like I was building a "How Well Do you Know Me?" quiz. Honestly, anyone who really knew me well would probably be able to answer all the security questions I chose... How that's secure? I'm not quite sure. I digresss...

As I scrolled through each set of questions trying to figure out whicih ones to choose, I realized there were a couple of questions in each set that I could not answer. The questions were:

What is the first name of your paternal grandfather?

What is the first name of your maternal grandmother?

What is the first name of your maternal grandfather?

What is the first ame of your paternal grand mother?

All the questions have a common theme: grandparent's names.

I couldn't believe it. I guess I always knew this... but I never realized it or paid much attention, but I don't know the first name of any of my grandparents! I think my paternal grandmother's name is Maria... or was it Isabel... ? How pathetic is that? I think it comes in somewhere between "I graduated from college and am a supervisor at McDonald's" and "I'm 40 and have never lived outside my parents home" on the pathetic list. Not only is it pathetic, it's sad. I guess that's what comes with having grandparents that you don't remember meeting* and that don't speak the same language as you. But still...

I'm gonna go crawl into a hole now....

* I'm paternal grandparents live/d (grandfather passed while I was in 4th grade) and though I actually lived there for about a month when I was only a few months old, I obviously don't remember them.

Confessions of the Diseased

2009-09-30T11:44:00.001-07:00

I've been hoarding a secret.

Maybe the secret has been obvious to onlookers, but I haven't told it to a single soul. I haven't even admitted it to myself until -- well just a few minutes ago, which in turn inspired this blog entry.

For the past 365 days or so (the case can be argued that it has been longer than that), I have had an extreme of baby fever. Every where I turn I hear about new babies, bellies inhabited by babies, fabrics shaped to fit baby bodies. I've done everything I know of to cure it. Babysat all sorts of crazy wild kids - and reverse psychology kicked into gear, somehow it made me want a baby even more! I had gave up hope denial was the key for me. I did not let the words "I want a baby" even pass the gate between thought and reality. I told everyone of my baby nightmares and mentioned not one word of my glorious dreams. I fained a complete disinterest in creating a mini-me/Mike and created a list of reasons why pro-creation was not the right move for me at this time.

Mike and I made a pack back in 2008 to stop "not-trying"* on our 3 year anniversary. That date has passed and I'm still fighting the anti-fertilization war. I knew (subconsciously, of course) that I needed a remedy quick otherwise my dear friend Tabitha would have a pregnant bridesmaid in her wedding (the horror!). And I have the perfect prescription to cure my ailment:

Ailment: Baby Fever

Prescription: Rubble aka 8 week old puppy

Instructions: Take daily as follows: Play with puppy as soon as you return from work until he is worn out. Then have puppy sleep in your lap for the duration of his nap. When he wakes up take him outside for a potty break, or allow him to piddle on your carpet and watch curiously as you run around trying to find what you did with that spray bottle of vinegar and water. Before bed, lock him in the master bath (to avoid mysterious wet spots on the carpet in the morning) and fall asleep to the calming whine of the puppy trying to make you feel guilty for wanting a clean carpet. Repeat as necessary.

And I am happy to say I am completely cured! Or I was... until this happened:

Awwww.. adorable toddler/puppy videos are making me sick (with baby fever that is)! On to find my next cure. Hopefully it will be cheaper than a new puppy!

*If you do not know the meaning of "not-trying" ... don't ask.

Life Lessons from a Toddler's Perspective

2009-09-18T11:16:00.000-07:00

When life gives you lemons...

EAT THEM ALL UP!

The star of the video is my niece Abby :)
She has a bright outlook on life, so a little bit of sour lemons doesn't bother her!

The Baby Warning

2009-08-25T11:43:00.000-07:00

Abigail May Parker has been the light of the Huntsman family. The one that could bring us all together in a miraculous way that no one could ever imagine. Close to the Wicked Witch of the West and Dorothy becoming kindred spirits. She was the first descendant of all of my Huntsman siblings-in-laws*. Needless to say Abigail, or as we call her, Abby, was always found basking in the attention of some adult (a term I loosely use as anyone who is not under the age of 10) at all family events/gatherings over the past year and a half. This in turn has caused a bit of a dilemma. Spoiled baby alert.

Abby has unanimously become my favorite niece (though, now that a cousin has been pro-created, I'm not sure if its PC for me to say that anymore). I also happen to love anything that is small in stature, fat and will let me cuddle with it. So it's no surprise, any time the opportunity for me to play-mommy for a few hours arises, I take it.

Last night was one of those few times. It was for a most part success. I was able to do all my pre-post-modern housewife duties: cook, clean and change a (massively large) poopy-diaper. The last errand of the night was to go with Mike to the mall and shop for a wedding gift while he got his mane, I mean, hair groomed, I mean... cut...

Joy had warned me that Abby was a little bit fussy, and that taking her out in public might not be ideal. She is on some pharmaceutical steroid that causes her to have acute insomnia and anyone who has been around a baby knows sleepy baby=angry baby, and angry baby=awholelotta whining! Well luckily on the way over to my humble abode Abby had fell asleep in her car seat. SCORE! This to me meant I was on track to have all my boxes checked on my to-do-list for the day.

All was fine, until we passed the land of robotic-plastic-toys that move up and down, or left and right or maybe (if its fancy enough) both. I had no intention of stopping and letting her ride one, and that little baby mind of hers knew it. That little lip began to protrude and I could feel the rumbling beginnings of her cry of hopelessness. Luckily, her short term memory came to my rescue and before I stepped foot in Target she had forgotten all about the quarter-devouring-satan-machines. The worst was over.

Until we began to walk down the aisles. Anything shiny, pretty, dull, fuzzy, large, small, colorful, that could be seen with Abby's eyes was immediately the item of her desire and no short term memory could assist me now as every aisle, was full of items that she wanted to hold. I was strong for about 15 minutes. Then I had my auntie break down and took her to the toy aisle (big mistake the whining just got louder, as I decided which toy I would buy her). I finally found a little fuzzy bear that was only $3.99**. This appeased her whining, but brought on the wrath of Abby wanting to see me make up the cardio workout that I had neglected to do that morning, by making me bend down every 5 ft or so and pick up the bear she had thrown on the ground. This continued until I finally was able to get to the cash register. She dropped that fuzzy bear on final time and I slyly placed it in the magazine rack, the annoyed, overworked side of me deciding she no longer deserved the cute little teddy bear. Thankfully, my ninja skills paid off and she didn't even think twice about what happened to the bear and we made it out of the mall without anymore whining.

Of course, being the over-analytical person I am, began to think of ways to avoid my child from becoming the "I see, I must have" monster. And ... I'm blank. I'm not around Joy and Abby enough to judge the amount of discipline given, but overall I would say that Abby is a happy child and doesn't do much whining for the most part. All I can do is hope that I will have the foreknowledge of how to appease a whining baby without giving him/her everything he/she wants. But we will see. I would just hate to be one of those people pushing a baby around that is crying at the top of her lungs, to the disgust of all those around me.

So to future-mother-Isabel: Please please pleeeeeeeeeeeeeease remember this day, and when you are tempted to give into that cute baby wanting to hold the little pink or baby blue fuzzy sheep, don't give in. The baby may cry for a minute, but it will save you a countless embarrassing trips out in public.

P.S. Please understand this is in no way judging my sister-in-laws ability to mother or calling Abby spoiled. I find Abby to be a very pleasant baby and cannot use this one situation to make any judgements.

*The second descendant of one of my Huntsman s-i-l was just born August 22nd! Congratulations Ben & Kake. Welcome Hope Huntsman!

** When did little stuffed animals become so expensive? I remember them being cheap, because I never asked my mom for anything that was expensive, because that meant a lecture about money and how we had to be smart with our money. Even asking for cheap things instigated a lecture, but it seemed to me with each dollar in the price of the item came a 10 min of subsequent lecture. So anything under $3 was worth asking for, and I recall finding plenty things to ask my mom for that met the under $3 criteria.

Giddy up!

2009-08-03T14:54:00.000-07:00

I went to the horse races yesterday. A friend of mine was offered a group of tickets for Emerald Downs "City of Kent" day and kindly asked us to accompany him. Though we didn't have a lot of time to spend there, we thought "Hey, why not?" and went a long to watch the jockeys ride.

I wasn't quite prepared for what the day would entail. I was wearing my fave jeans, which also happen to be thick jeans, and in the heat wave that we pacific northwesterners have been experiencing it wasn't the best choice for sitting outside on aluminum bench waiting for 35-40 minute periods to watch horses rush around a track for about thirty seconds. Luckily, due to the savvy of my amazing Pops, we found an unoccupied bench that was at the time exposed to the sweltering sun, but moments after we sat, found itself in the shade. Shade, free Dr. Pepper , and race program turned fan saved me from passing out from heat exhaustion.

Now it was time to try and understand why people find these equestrian races so entertaining. Three races later... the hubby had bet and soon after lost $5 bucks. I had unsuccessfully attempted to learn the new language being broadcast over the speaker, and sadly discovered that the horses become so muscular due to steroids. I couldn't find the fun. Maybe those tiny little humans also known as jockeys were hiding it under their helmets waiting for me to disappear before they would unleash the good stuff. I guess discovering "Onepuffsenuff" is a sufficient name for a horse was an interesting tidbit to add to my knowledge tank, but overall the experience was meager at best. I watched a "photo finish", witnessed a horse, I swear was limping, come in at second place and ate some delicious kettle corn. There was no spectacular moment. Though the races were as invigorating as a round of sleeping lions, spending time with my hubby, one of our best friends and my dad all in one afternoon, was a great moment in life.

Negativity Confined

2009-07-31T10:29:00.000-07:00

At this time I must confess.

I have had a lot of negativity on my mind. Every time I go to my keyboard to type up a post my brain is flooded with "I hate this" and "I wish this would change" and "People are dumb" sort of statements. And honestly, I feel those kind of blogs are ok every once in awhile, but I don't want to be "that girl" who always blogs about the negativity in my life/mind.

That was my dull attempt at an excuse as to why my blogging has been lacking.

My life isn't as lacklustre as my posting schedule as been. In fact last Saturday I had a mini-adventure to top all mini-adventures.

I went cliff jumping. Off a 15 ft cliff.

To all you adrenaline-filled-adventurous types this may seem completely un-adventurous. And actually might consider it an insult that I would label it such. But for me, as predictable and cautious as I tend to be this was quite the adventure for me. It all started with the idea of heading over to Lake Chelan for a cliff jumping adventure, unfortunately we had a commitment Saturday night and did not want to make a 8 hour round trip for an hour of fun. So I set out (via Google and YouTube) to find more nearby places to attempt the same. After a little browsing I finally found the place, Sunset Falls*, we could go that was only 4 hours round trip. I google mapped it and we were set. Saturday morning I got my new curve (with GPS, hooray!) out for a test run. And unfortunately the map directions used a road that was barricaded. This caused us to have to settle for another area, Eagle Falls.

After about an hour of wading in the cold glacier melt water, and finding the perfect spot our group finally began to jump. It looked like fun and I decided I wanted to attempt having fun. The cliff was 15ft at the most and the water was quite calm in the area I was eyeing for a jump. Mike and the others finally convinced me to try it out. After 15min of almost jumping and then stopping for another session of coaxing, convincing and calming (there was even a moment where I hugged my sister just in case I didn't survive) I stepped off the ledge.

It was exhilarating, until I hit the water. In all my preparing to jump. I forgot to prepare myself to stay calm once I hit the water. As I was submerged in the water a sudden rush of panic set it. It seemed like I had sunk all the way to the bottom of an ocean and that I would never find the surface. When I did finally emerge my heart was racing and before I knew it I began to sink again. My desperate attempts at doggy-paddling my way towards the rocks was failing. Mike jumped in the water after me. I wrapped my arms and legs around him causing him to lose all ability to move. Finally after quite a bit of splashing, struggling and panic I finally was able to grip on to a slimy rock. After giving myself time to calm down Mike moved me to shallower waters and forbade me to jump again**.

I sat for the last hour, drying in the sun, and loathing the others that were still jumping. But it was a great experience. I want to do it again (after I learn to swim of course***).

* Here's a link to the YouTube video that shows Sunset Falls, it's about 4 min into the video Click Here.

** Never was I planning to jump off a cliff. I am not a strong swimmer and thought that jumping off a 20-30ft cliff would not be the best idea for me.

*** I did have swimming lessons when I was in elementary. But due to my over-protective father, who didn't want me prancing around in a swim-suit (one piece or otherwise) I wasn't allowed to participate in many swimming activities and therefore forgot how to swim.

I Believe

2009-07-14T13:17:00.000-07:00

The invention of the lateral filing system is a heinous crime punishable by death!
Losing weight is made infinitesimally harder when you have a husband who could care less how much he weighs and subsequently what or how much he eats.
Someone should bless me with a jetski or two... and while they're at it thrown in a cabin on a lake...
I need more sleep.

I conclude

2009-07-09T14:47:00.000-07:00

There are people in my life:

I can't live without
I pretend I can't live without
I pretend I can live with

I need to spend more time with the first, waste less effort on the second and eliminate the third.

Current plan of attack:

I wish I knew

Summer Briefs

2009-07-07T10:07:00.001-07:00

Sorry for the abandonment.
I've been terribly busy and at a lack of words.
So far the summer has been good.
Got back from Costa Rica a week ago now - it was amazing. I have pics on facebook if you wish to view them. Went camping (in-tent) over the 4th weekend. It was interesting. Maybe I'll blog on my views of camping some other time.

Wedding season has started. I haven't been to one wedding yet, but this weekend will be my 1st out of 4 weddings this summer that I plan to attend. I'll be there wringing empty pocke .... I mean ringing bells....*ding-a-ling*

Goals for the summer:
1. Revive the very yellow, dry grass in my yard
2. Add some sense of decor to my home
3. Organize the "junk room"
4. Sleep and let the elves do it all.

The Keys to Relationships

2009-06-01T10:02:00.000-07:00

A set of my keys are missing.
The mystery of their disappearance and the hour I spent searching for them has got me thinking about relationships: friendly and otherwise.

When it occurred to me that I had looked in every viable spot, logical and illogical, for my keys I could not bring myself to give up the search. I couldn't let go. I kept racking my brain for another possible spot to scour. I had a search party with me, about 8 of us searching all over the building for a set of keys. Finally it came to the point where the group was convincing Mike and me that there was no where else we could look. The un-consoling words "They'll show up" were repeated multiple times. And though logically I knew the search had come to an end, I felt as if I was falling short, giving up too soon. I felt as if I had failed.

In my lifetime many people have come in to my life, only to leave some time later. As I ponder relationships in my life that have ended, I find one thing in common: I seemed to know that the relationship was ending. They all had different signs that, in hindsight, I now notice. Some relationships were marked with constant frustration and arguments. Others left me weary from fighting to bridge the rift that was slowly growing. With some relationships I just had an instinct that they would end soon. Yet, I ignored all those signs and found myself surprised that the relationship ending so "abruptly". I felt as if I was falling short, giving up too soon. I felt as if I had failed.

But after my unsuccessful search last night I realized, sometimes, there's just nothing you can do. You have to let go. If the problem did not work itself out, doesn't mean I am to blame. If I did all I can do, well, I did all I can do. And for that I must quit.

Apple Glory

2009-04-28T09:47:00.000-07:00

My kudos to Apple.
They have successfully caused me to yearn for an item I have no need for.
That item is the iPod touch.
Yes. I have succumb to the mindset of a teenager and I desperately want the iTouch otherwise my life is not complete. This idea is odd for me. I have never before longed after an item that was not a necessity, especially anything over $100. Usually if I cannot afford the item the desire for it fades. But this time Apple has overcome my frugal controls and turned me into a ravenous-updated-technology-must-have beast.

.sigh.

That little piece of black shiny plastic and it's touchable screen of glory has me writhing in torture. It costs exponentially more than I could ever convince myself to spend, especially since I have a completely functional [out of date] iPod. Oh the joys of responsible frugality. May all who have an iTouch simply bestowed on them because they are too young and/or irresponsible to hold a job, be mindful not to carelessly leave their sacred technology behind. It might be the one time that I cannot convince myself to turn it in to lost and found*.

*Though I wish my conscience was seared enough, I'm sure I would not be able to do this. First for the sake of the parents who actually worked hard for money they used to pay for that item, second on behalf of honoring the golden rule and third in honor of a dear friend who lost his iPhone to someone less selfless than I.

Rumor Weed

2009-04-21T11:27:00.000-07:00

Someone asked me at church on Sunday if I was pregnant.
I politely answered "No....?"
"You don't look pregnant," she clarified, "I just heard a rumor and wanted to check to see if it was true."
"Nope, not yet." I replied
She asked, "Are you trying?"
"No...." I said running away

Wow.
Rumor? That I'm pregnant?
*shakes head*
Let them have their rumors.
There's plenty of babies at church right now. I don't want to overwhelm the nursery teacher.

I just noticed... blogger doesn't have emoticons. Or at least not that I see anywhere... sad.

By Any Other Name

2009-04-16T15:49:00.001-07:00

Izzy.
It's a nickname that has haunted me since 4th grade.
Someone decided it was funny to call me Izzy, because I somehow reminded them of Izzy's pizza buffet and they would call me that so they could sing parodied versions of the commercial diddy to attempt making fun of me. There were some parodies that were better than others "Izzy's green poop..." being one of them. But I learned to let it slide like hot cheese on fresh pizza.

While still in grade school I introduced myself as Isabel and politely gave people the option of calling me Izzy [it was better than being called Elizabeth, or Isabella]. But towards the end of my high school years I began to realize that I disdained the sound of the letter z. Not to mention it was ugly to write out... cursive or print. Subsequently I began to loathe the nickname I had so graciously allowed everyone to call me the last 8 years of my life*.

Then college came.
I decided I would make a new beginning for myself. I never once told anyone to call me Izzy. The nickname just naturally came for my professors [Prof Rob!!! I miss him], friends and classmates alike.

I gave up the quest to get rid of it. If people call me Izzy I just go to a happy place in my mind where terrible nicknames are put to death by guillotine and never heard of again. I've taught some of my closer friends to call me Is, or Isa which are nicknames that I find more pleasant to my auditory mechanisms.

There is only one place that the nickname has not dare follow me. My work.
My boss so graciously has caught on to calling me Is, in less formal conversations.

All this to say. I like my boss.
Why do I like him?
Many reasons.

But today I like him because he calls me Is.

* During the 8 years I discovered that the Olympic mascot was named Izzy, and there was some 80's rocker called Izzy and a little boy called Izzy short for Isaiah. All which were negatives to me

2009-04-14T16:28:00.001-07:00

I now can post blogs via txt! *does a little nerd dance*
Is it weird that I'm super excited about this?
*more nerdy dancing*
Well I don't care!!!

Birthday Milestones

2009-04-08T11:06:00.001-07:00

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ABIGAIL MAY PARKER

A year ago today a precious addition was made to the Huntsman/Parker families.

Abby and I on the day of her birth.

You have provided lots of laughs, love and memories this past year. I look forward to even more in the years to come.

Thank you for being so cute and adorable, for falling asleep in my arms countless times, for laughing at my silly faces and for adding more estrogen to the Huntsman family.

One more thing I ask... stop growing so fast!

Love

Isabel
[Your favorite Aunt]

Relating

2009-04-07T13:56:00.000-07:00

Slumdog Millionaire.
Watch it! If you haven't already.

I've been doing a horrible job with my 2009 resolution.
I haven't taken 1 picture since I wrote that blog. How sad.

My aunt & cousins are visiting from Las Vegas. They are staying with my aunt in Bellevue. Mike and I made the trek up there to say hello. It was a long drive and late in the evening by the time we got home, but it was worth it. I am very guilty of avoiding my extended family. I usually leave family gatherings with the sense that I cannot relate to my relatives. But yesterday was a delightful evening and you can never regret an evening spent well.

Book vs. Movie

2009-04-01T12:53:00.000-07:00

The argument can be made that in most cases a book's story is much more entertaining than it's movie counterpart. In a book-made-movie the story is usually less detailed and usually has a hard time at recreating the emotion and background story that is contained in the book. I have not come across a case in which a book's story was not better than it's movie version, until today.

Stardust, written by Neil Gaiman is tale of adventure, cat-eared women and fallen stars. It's movie version was released in 2007. I watched the movie before I even had knowledge of a book version. The movie is hands down in my top 5 favorites. Well in reading one of Neil Gaiman's stories, Coraline (which has an animated movie version I haven't seen yet), I discovered he also authored Stardust. I decided I wanted to read it, since I had found up until this point that books are always tremendously more entertaining than a movie. Unfortunately I cannot say so of Stardust. Though the book was not completely disappointing it lacked the emotion and sense of adventure and fun the movie incorporated so well.

This is the first time I would say if you like the book you're going to like the movie much more. The movie did a good job of embellishing the story line and removing that which was not necessary.

So I must admit that a movie can be better than it's book version, but only very rarely.

If you have not seen the movie, go rent it. Definitely a must see in my own meager opinion.

The Terrible T's

2009-03-30T15:03:00.000-07:00

Work shoes make my feet stink. Gives a whole different perspective to "kick off your shoes and relax."

Does anyone know why terrific and terrified are only 2 letters apart from each other. The words have such opposite connotations, you think they would resemble each other much less. Language has always confounded my gray matter.

Looking forward this week seems pretty calm. Hopefully it will stay that way. But a clear week in my life is just as dependable as the Washington weather forecast.

Cut & Dry

2009-03-23T14:08:00.000-07:00

Split ends make me happy. At least they are a problem that I know a temporary solution to.
Fortunately, all my other issues are much larger and complicated in scale. They are completely challenging, and I see no answer in sight as of yet. But that's what makes life fun right?
There is no challenge in split ends. The solution is cut and dry, literally.
Oh the good life.

Today I mourn the loss of my beloved flash drive. She was brutally murdered on 3.29.09 by an outdated, bigot, monster of a computer. Death was immediate, though CPR was attempted to no avail. Fladri was 3 years old. She was dedicated and well organized. She has no surviving relatives.
RIP Fladri. Thank you for storing my documents. Sorry I did not show you more appreciation.

Spring into Season

2009-03-20T12:56:00.000-07:00

It's the first day of spring. Makes me want to spin around in circles... then I take a look outside...
Washington sure celebrates the day with style. The sky has raindrops and gray clouds in tow. And for security purposes the sun is hiding, until further notice.

Rain or shine it is spring nonetheless. Welcome colorful flowers, and stinging bees!

[slightly] New Year Resolution[s]

2009-03-19T14:07:00.000-07:00

Yea... I know its a little late but we're still in the first quarter year! [so here goes]
1. This year I vow to record more of my life with [digi]film

This means a few things:
a. I must find my my battery charger
oh battery charger where art thou? I have missed thee since our last Christmas celebration
b. My camera must become my daily companion
sorry, camera no more dark days in the junk drawer conversing with traffic tickets and pencils
c. I must start my right-forefinger on a vigorous training regimen
"up, down, press, click... repeat"

2. I also vow to stop taking this stupid blog so seriously.
I have been waiting for inspiration to pounce on me. Bright ideas are ladies/gentlemen they don't jump on their friends in public. I have been wasting my blog life with dreams of grandeur.

So you can expect a lot more of me here.

Here's to 2009!

A Still Moment

2009-03-12T15:50:00.000-07:00

A haunting picture from my past has spurred thoughts on of regret and progression. I looked at the picture daunted. I didn't recall that particular moment in my life and rightly so. It was not a thrilling nor glorious moment, but now looking back I am ashamed of that moment. Memories of moments that I now would scoff at the thought of acting upon trickle back like Chinese torture. Many people say "I have no regrets," when speaking of former life choices and decisions. And up until this point I have thought the same. I cruelly led myself to believe that I am where I am today because each decision I made brought me here. But I can't escape the urge ponder that maybe if I made a different decisions on the little things in life that I would be somewhere farther than where I am now.

Don't mistake this statement as a profession that I am unhappy with my life. I could not be happier, but I could be better. I am imperfect and I have come to accept the fact that I will always be so. Does not mean I give up on reaching for a higher goal. I'm always pushing myself sometimes to my detriment, but I know that I have come a quite a distance from before because of it.

Though the physical attributes of the girl in the picture resembled a past me, I found myself struggling to find a connection with her. I no longer think the way she thought, I no longer feel the way she felt. It was hard for me to understand the process that led up to that brief still moment captured without forethought. I can't relate to her. That is no longer me.

And that I am okay with. I'm not exactly proud of all my actions. And I'm sure in hindsight and foresight I will not be proud of all the things I do today, tomorrow or yesteryear. But I am comforted by the knowledge of how I have changed from that moment. The struggles she dealt with I have transformed into beautiful hills that add to the landscape of my life.

Do I have regrets?
Yes.

If I could would I go back in life and change some things?
In a heart beat.

Would those changes alter the course of my future forever?
Probably.

Can I change them?
No.

So I have to accept that who I was then is not who I am today. And I hope that 10 years from now my future self can look back and say the same, hopefully with a lot less shame.

Continuous Cyclone

2009-03-09T15:32:00.000-07:00

My thoughts have been rudely bombarding the gray matter located in my cranium. Thoughts that I desire to share with someone, but don't in terror of the minuscule chance that I will be misunderstood. I desperately want to remove the thoughts trapped in head with my verbal dumb truck, but I'm just unsure of the proper location.
Honestly, I'm just frightened of what that kind of vulnerability can bring to me. As I have mentioned before I used to be open and share my issues and problems, thoughts and feelings with the masses. Now it's hard for me to even share them with anyone.
At least I have God. I know he listens to me. My sanity is protected by him. If I didn't have him to share with I imagine I would be rolled up into the fetal position in a dark cave somewhere high in the Alps (assuming there are caves in the Alps).
Of course I have Mike. But I just can't unload on him all the time. He has such a good heart and as I share things with him I can see the hero in him rising up to save his poor wife from the terrors of life. But, unfortunately, most issues cannot be resolved with a strong will and good intentions. And because of this the issue then becomes his burden, and I just can't do that to him.
This is also the reason for my lack of writing. I don't want my issues to accidentally flow out through my fingers, onto the keyboard and thus on to this screen for all to read. I've been in a constant state of filtering and it has stunted my creativity.
One day I'll find a solution to this issue. Until then. I'll keep this cyclone of thoughts trapped.

In other news. My brother-in-law and his girlfriend have announced that they will be adding a girl to the Huntsman family. God must be making up for the current lack of estrogen in the family. Though I'm a little disappointed the pressure is back on me to produce the next male heir to the Huntsman name, I am happy that my niece Abby will have a female playmate in the future. Plus girls are so much more fun to dress and buy things for. At least from my non-mother perspective. 2009 is a busy year for the Huntsman clan.

Thinking Place

2009-02-20T11:43:00.001-08:00

I've been thinking.

Conclusion:
I think too much.

The Clean Dilemma

2009-02-09T15:18:00.000-08:00

I can happily say that my house is currently in decent order. Blankets are folded, clothes are neatly tucked away, a few specks of dust roam freely across my kitchen floor and scattered puffs of white cat hair appear where convenient for observation.

I like my house this way. I would prefer it to be shining in clean glory, but I admit, I can't keep up with that. But for the time being I am satisfied with the semi-orderly minuscule-ly-imperfect. I've noticed that when my house is clean I find this new state of mind which I am not used to: tranquility. I don't try to use ESP to move that dirty sock sticking out of the couch to its rightful place in the laundry basket. I can ignore the occasional smear on the mirror or the runaway dust bunny, but when I wake up and wonder when became deaf because I didn't seem to hear the war that must have created such a disastrous mess I drift off into full motion. I hone in on every little item that is out of place and put it back.

In my mind.

But usually, my physical body and time refuse to cooperate. This makes it harder to keep my house slightly below standard and thus my mind no longer is at ease.

It seems simple. Keep the house clean and I'll feel great. But, its not that simple. It takes a lot of time and effort to keep the house up. One lazy/busy night and I can't catch up. There has to be a better solution than simply being responsible.

And the answer is: maid.

Unfortunately, I can't afford a maid.
So I guess I just have to keep playing catch up with myself.

I can't say I really like that idea.

Dinner thoughts

2009-01-20T11:29:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was productive. Thanks to Dr.MLK I had the day off.
I woke up earlier than anticipated, due to another call from work for Mike. He was on-call the last week. He had to go in to work so we got out of bed and started the day.
Once I finished getting ready I began to clean the kitchen, and once I started I just couldn't stop. I cleaned until my kitched was sparkling. I think only a few lucky specks of dust got left behind. After that I went out and did some errands came home and cooked dinner (Mike was gone again on another call). I served my self a plate of food and sat down at the table to eat. And just as I was about to stick my fork into my meal, a thought occured to me.
When did I become an adult?
I don't remember passing through a gate or seeing a sign saying "Welcome to Adulthood". I never received a certificate, nor did I take a class. But somewhere along the way I became responsible for myself. I clean without any other reason but just to have a clean house, I choose not to purchase things knowing that at the current time I cannot afford it. I cook for myself and think not only about caring for my own well being, but also for Mike's.
It snuck up on me. No warning. Just here on a permanent visit. Yet with all this adult-like behaviors and responsibilities, I do not feel like an adult. I have at least a few inches more to grow, years and years of things to keep learning, I whine when I'm cold and tired and I still almost always have proof on my clothing that I ate at least one meal that day. And I don't think I will ever overcome any of these behaviors.
So the question still stands. Am I adult?
In years? Yes
In responsibilites? Yes
In behavior/maturity? Mostly
At heart? Maybe, never.

Round and Round

2008-12-18T12:14:00.000-08:00

Wow, I thought I would have some down time in December.... I was wrong!
I can't believe we are only 7 days away from Christmas! Maybe things will slow down for me the 2nd half of the month. My fingers will be crossed in spirit (because they will actually be busy doing other things, i.e. wrapping Christmas gifts, cooking and blogging) for some relaxation time.
Mike has been mentioning babies. A lot. Too much. And when I shut that idea down he starts mentioning puppies. He even goes as far to offer a new kitten. Which he has been denying me for a few years.
I am frightened of having children. For multiple reasons. First, I just feel like I'm too young. That having a child makes me old. Not that I think other people who have children are old, but I guess I'm scared. Terrified actually, of how my life will change. I feel like I'm at a constant struggle to keep up with life now, how will I be able to keep if I add another thing to my never ending list of things that keep me busy. I'm sure I'll adapt and survive, possibly even thrive as a mother, but I can't just hope. I have to have some kind of confirmation. And it still hasn't happened yet. I know you are never 100% ready to have children so I'm not waiting for that, but I just don't want to be irresponsible either.
There are other reasons as well that I am scared, but they are more personal and I do not feel comfortable sharing with the possibility of anyone reading. So I will end there.
The day will come when I will be ok with this. I truly want children of my own and I get all mushy and teary eyed watching shows or commercials on the topics of families with newborns, but when I bring myself into real life I can't envision it. Maybe that's the problem. I can't envision myself as a mother. I just wish I knew when the right time was.

Missing Person

2008-12-01T15:43:00.000-08:00

-WARNING-

The following blog is a sappy, pathetic little thought process. Read at your own risk.

"It is a great gift when others trust you enough to convey information with which you could hurt them, for they took that into consideration before telling you."
I've noticed a difference lately in how I develop friendships. When I was younger, maybe even until about a few years ago, I was always open in close friendships. Anyone I felt close to I would tell my share all with. There was nothing hidden.

But that has changed.

I only share my real true feelings with few. And when I say few I mean Mike. I must drive him crazy unloading on him the way I do.

At the risk of sounding emo/pathetic/or any other negative descriptor, I don't think anyone else truly wants to listen. I'm scared no one can understand. I'm frightened of sympathetic statements that only make me feel worse about myself. I'm terrified of someone knowing the real me and not liking me. I'm horrified that the person I put my trust in won't put the same trust in me.

I've been burned a few times. I put myself out there to a few people other than Mike in the past few years. Currently I don't feel I can confide in any of them again. Not until they show that they have the same trust in me. I have a problem with making myself vulnerable to a person who insists on wearing their full armor. Frankly, I'm tired of the feeling. And I had made an unconcious agreement with myself that I would not make myself vulnerable to someone until they first made themselves vulnerable to me. I had not thought about it conciously until I read the above quote.

I've complained to Mike many times about not having friends, and he ever so kindly points out that I have a lot. And it's true. I have many friends, many people that are an important to my life. But I want that one friend other than Mike, that is willing to put themselves out there to me. Willing to let me see their imperfections and trust that I will love them just the same. I'm not sure if I will ever find that. But I have much of my life ahead of me. There's still hope.

Household Items

2008-11-25T09:20:00.000-08:00

Everyday I realize that I am missing another semi-necessary household item.
Because I never keep a list I always forget what I need.
So, I'm starting the list here.

- pans (got plenty of pots and not enough pans)

- iron

- ironing board

- coffee pot (for Mike I dislike coffee)

- hand mixer

- sewing kit
- cupcake pan
- loaf pan

Weekend Let Downs

2008-11-24T11:44:00.000-08:00

Disappointment.
It's a terrible emotion. It probably is somewhere near the lowest rung of the emotional ladder. I felt it an unwanted number of times this weekend. Friday, Saturday and by by midday Sunday I could've squeezed big wet drops out of my eyes. Yet, I held back. Even though I was surrounded by a sea of disappointment at least my feet were on dry land. Why add to the sea with my tears.

Without disappointment would we understand satisfaction? Would we truly grasp the understanding of happiness?

Family of Strangers

2008-11-12T12:46:00.000-08:00

My grandpa [mother's father] is in the hospital.

I went and visited him last night with my mom. I prepared myself for the worst. I knew he was in the ICU and unconscious [I later found out that he was sedated and not comatose, which made me feel better]. As expected he had an overwhelming amount of machines surrounding him and tubes inserted and taped all over his body.

Preparing myself for the visit I was unsure of how I would react. My grandpa is Korean and neither him nor I ever learned enough of each other's language to converse. All I really know of him is that cheesy smile he gets when I say hi and the pat-pat hugs he gives me. Since we weren't close I didn't think I would cry unless he looked to be writhing in pain. When we went in the room he looked peaceful so I thought I avoided the crying bit. Then the nurse came into the office to do a routine check up.

The last thing the nurse did was clean out my grandpa's mouth. My grandpa could feel it and did not like it. He kept making an unpleasant face, the most he could do to show discomfort due to the sedation. Once the nurse was done my mom went over and stood next to him. After looking at him briefly she asked me for a tissue. I gave her one and then she dabbed the tissue in the corners of my grandpa's eyes.

He had tears.

That's when I broke. Even though I've never been close with my grandpa I suddenly felt a connection. I'm sure I would've had the same reaction if it was a complete stranger, but regardless in that moment I felt a bond with my grandpa that I never felt before. I can't explain it and I don't know how long this bond will last, but for one bittersweet bipolar moment I felt that we belonged to the same family.

Brain Block

2008-11-05T10:57:00.000-08:00

I admit, I am a bit of a hypochondriac. Many symptoms that make me aware of their presence are given many hours of research on Google & WebMD followed by the conclusion that if the symptom does not go away in 24hrs I will be making an appointment the next day. Only once have I had to follow through with the latter half.
Yes, symptoms worry me. Early detection is the name of my game.
What bothers me is that every symptom that is discovered by mothers leads to "Are you pregnant?"
My brain is tired of going through the checklist to assure myself that I am not. Thus my brain's friends, L-ear and R-ear, have decided to tightly secure all entry ways to brain's residence. The sign on the door reads as follows:

Appointment required for all auditory insanity.

Brain reserves the right to refuse service to anyone.

That's right. I'm not listening!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If you want to give someone scary baby nightmares please go elsewhere. Thank you.*

______________________________________
Obama has won.
My thoughts on that are summed up in one verse:

"Let every soul be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and the authorities that exist are appointed by God." Romans 13:1

*Please note I am not saying that being pregnant or having a baby would be a nightmare, but as of right now it is not my plan. So please don't cause me to worry excessively for something that I am currently working to prevent. I love babies, and want one. Just not right now.

Vote for Ice Cream

2008-11-04T12:05:00.001-08:00

Out of all the "vote & get free stuff" promotions the following appeals to me most!

Unfortuantely... the only one close enough would cost me gas +$4 because of the toll to cross the bridge... To say the least I'm bummed.

While browsing the Ben & Jerry's Website, I stumbled upon a flavor of ice cream I never knew about:

It sounds incredibly delectable! Buy it for me and you will be my best friend... well for as long as the pint lasts.

Holiday Fever

2008-11-03T12:38:00.000-08:00

For the first time in my 24 years of life, I am looking forward to Christmas.

Growing up holidays were not a big deal in my family. The only thing I celebrated during the holidays were school breaks and bloated tummies.

I remember the first year my parents bought me Christmas presents. I believe it was 4th grade. They didn't ask us to create christmas lists, or buy us secret gifts based on their instinctual knowledge of their children. Instead my parents took us over to the local Bible book store and let us pick out some items that would be dubbed our "christmas gifts". We didn't even have a Christmas tree until I was in the 9th grade and even then it was a fake tree that my sister and I decorated with lacklustre ornaments from the local dollar store.

The only tradition we had was the food that we ate.

Thus I never developed any heartwarming attachments to the holiday known as Christmas to me it was the same as Thanksgiving only it commemorating a different historical event.

When I got married, Mike made it mission critical that he change my lack of enthusiasm for the holiday. And as my opening statement shows, it has worked. It is quite strange for me to feel this excitement, but I can't say that I mind. We started putting away money from every paycheck for Christmas gifts, so it should be a little easier on the pocket this year, which is always nice. I'm excited to start creating traditions now that we will do with our children in the years to come. And hopefully my children will understand the meaning of the holiday as well as enjoy the excitement at this time of the year.

The Big Comfy Bus

2008-10-27T11:07:00.001-07:00

I ride the bus to work. I loathe driving and I find riding the bus a convenient [and cheap!] substitution. Though there are sometimes other riders who frighten me and my work day is controlled by a bus schedule, I find an odd comfort in the seats of the large metal box on wheels.

Just a slight bit more odd is my desire to share this experience with Mike. Every time Mike and I plan on going somewhere that is a bit of a distance, I try to find a way to ride the bus. It never ends up happening. Either I decided it would be too inconvenient for what our plans are or Mike refuses to do so. Mike rode the bus most of his teenage years and was thrilled once he got a car and license so that he could escape the prison on wheels, therefore I understand his unwillingness.

Last Thursday I left my monthly bus pass on the bus [luckily the bus driver found it and turned it in to lost & found] instead of immediately thinking "well I guess I'll just drive to work tomorrow" I began counting my change to make sure I had enough for a round trip. This got me considering why I enjoy riding the bus so much. After much thought and consideration I decided it is because I find comfort in schedules/routine.

Overall as a human beings I believe we all are creatures of habit. But I go beyond creature of habit, I am statue of habit. I find change repulsing. I even have a hard time dealing with good changes, i.e. marriage, new car, moving to my new house, etc. Not only is riding the bus part of my routine, but I find comfort in its schedule.

I always think its interesting to be able to understand myself better, and I just thought I'd share.

Vera Green

2008-10-24T12:12:00.000-07:00

Please meet my office plant. Her name is Vera.

Vera is a great model

I am saddened for Vera, because I must admit I am terrible at caring for her. In the few years that she has been with me I have lost 2 other office plants to tragic untimely deaths. When Vera and her two companions (may the rest in peace) were entrusted to my care I knew little about plants. Unfortunately, no care instructions were left with the either. All three plants were alive and growing. The only blip of information I got as to caring for them was to be sure NOT to overwater. Me lacking the characteristic traits of mother nature took that to the extreme and soon it became apparent that I needed to be more careful of not UNDER-watering my dear plants.

Her brown spots have been highlighted

With the unfortunate passing of my other two plants I have decided to nurse Vera back to health *crosses figners*. For the past 3 weeks I have been sure to water her once a week. I hope that soon the depressing brown spots will fade and she will be green with life all through out her plant body. Being the sole survivor of my terrible flash course on plant care, the best thing I can do is make an attempt at giving her a real chance at life. Hopefully this intentional care with be enough to help her thrive.

If anybody has any tips they would like to share with me please do!

I'm gonna be a mommy!

2008-10-21T11:13:00.001-07:00

*gasp*

No I'm not pregnant. I've just finally came to a decision on when I am going to start having kids. Unfortunately, I will not be sharing said date (yes, I have specified date) in order to keep the suspense in the Huntsman saga. The pressure has been laid on us strong to start reproducing little Mike & Isabel replicas, but I am proud to say that I have not succumb to any of those demands. This decision is one that Mike and I have made solely on our own without influence of the many overbearing voices in our lives. And that's the way I like it. I want the decision to be one that we make to be because we wanted it (and I thought peer pressure ended with high school).

Though I can't guarantee that I will not end up pregnant before my decision date [I hate that .1% chance], I hope that I will be confidently able to say to my child that we planned to have her/him and not the opposite.

Being a mom will be an interesting turn in my life, but I think I will enjoy it.

The only thing I still need to figure out is how I'm going to being a full time mom/wife/employee. It's already hard just assuming the role of full time wife/employee add mother to the mix and I'm sure my mind will be obliterated under the obligations. I'm not exactly sure what I want either. I find it relaxing and enjoyable to stay at home on my days off and clean and I actually feel quite productive, but that's just 1 day a week, I don't know that I will have much to do if I stay home 7 days a week. I'm sure it will be a different story once I have child rear, but right now solely being a housewife doesn't appeal to me. But I'm not exactly a go-get-em carrer gal either. I work because I have to.

You see, the way our life is set-up now we need 2 incomes to live. We wouldn't be able to afford our house payment without my income and the same for Mike's. I know there are many women out there who work full time and are mothers but I'm not sure if I'm part of that group. I'll do it, I'll find a way, because as it looks right now that's just the way its gonna be and I have to learn to deal with it. Unfortunately, I think I will have a few breakdowns before I completely learn to handle it.

For example last night I had a semi-breakdown. My house was atrociously messy I had just got done cooking and started washing dishes when Mike arrived at home. He had gone out to meet an old co-worker for some catch up time. When we put his arms around me in appreciation of a good smelling meal and offered to take over the dishes, the floodgates broke. I was balling and ranting about how messy the house is and how I can't handle all working/cooking/cleaning all by myself. Mike apologized for not helping me keep up with the clutter the past week and immediately took over the dishes. He tried to sit me down in front of the TV so I would stop doing things but I had an errand to run. He sent me on my way, and when I arrived at home it was in decent condition. I definitely would not say it was clean, but I wouldn't feel ashamed of my house if someone stopped by unexpectedly and it's only a good hour away from being "clean".

I'm glad that Mike doesn't expect me to take care of the house on my own. We definitely wouldn't be happy. I just wish we could afford to get a maid. But yet, the idea of someone I don't know cleaning my house is a little eerie.

I would love some tips on how to change my template. I don't particularly like any of the bland ones that blogger offers. Thanks!