The Unknown

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:

1. What is the first name of your paternal grandfather?


2. What is the first name of your maternal grandmother?


3. What is the first name of your maternal grandfather?


4. 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

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

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

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!

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

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

• 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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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]

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

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

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

I've been thinking.

Conclusion:
I think too much.

The Clean Dilemma

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

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.