Home from Summer Camp

Well, I'm home. It was a looooong five days, but we survived. The administration side of things ran pretty great, especially considering it was my first year. I walked around a lot making sure staff knew when and where they needed to be places and started putting out fires just as soon as kids arrived, but I loved it! Well, by the end of the week I wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep forever, but I lasted almost the whole five days rather than burning out on day two like I usually do. And I kept hearing from the regular staff that this year ran smoother than any year prior. *bowing* You're welcome.

It started raining on Monday night and continued off and on until we left on Wednesday morning and almost everyone and everything was wet. But the kids pushed through and made the best of it.

I also pushed through and made the best of it. As I mentioned here, I was anticipating the arrival of dearest Aunt Flow the day before camp. I was anxious and nervous and generally irritable the whole week. I mostly kept it under control though. Sunday night I started spotting and warned the powers that be that I would likely not be joining them on the river. Luckily, since I had been anticipating this problem, I made sure I wasn't going to be necessary to the trip if I couldn't go, IE, I wasn't a driver or a raft leader.

Monday morning came and all I wanted to do was lay in my bed and wallow in self pity. I felt like crap, hadn't had a shower in three days, and woke up ready to tear someone's head off. However, I did get out of bed to make sure that the guys headed out to get the rental vans got off on time. I then put on my happy face (after a cup of coffee) and saw everyone off about three hours later. After that, I had the best day I've had in a long while. I went back to my tipi and laid in bed reading for quite some time. I spent some time in quiet prayer, just me, God, and the sound of construction in the background as the campground behind us was being renovated. I talked to my mom for an hour or so. Then I took a nap. When I woke up I put on my bathing suit and headed down to the lake. By then it was quite hot and I spent the rest of the early afternoon swimming with the camp nurse's three young daughters and laying out on the dock with the nurse catching up on life. The nurse had been a small group leader of mine when I first moved to the area. We hadn't really seen much of each other since then. It was a great time to catch up on life and talk about everything under the sun. I even told her some about trying to get pregnant and how that was becoming more and more of a struggle for me to deal with. She was very encouraging and shared about some struggles in her life as well. Three hours and a mild sunburn later I took a refreshing shower (and used three whole shower tokens, five minutes each) and went back to my tipi to read some more. I may have even taken a second nap. By the time the kids were back from rafting I was ready to face the world again. I wish the first day of EVERY period could be that relaxing.

To further the idea that the world is indeed very small, the camp speaker this year was actually a family friend who has been a part of my life for as along as I can remember. He is a pastor in San Diego and a very awesome guy. He was totally challenging to everyone at camp, students and staff alike. Jake and I have decided to work on something, but I don't remember the name of it. But basically the start is memorizing 12 particular Bible verses. The first two are Galatians 2:20 and 2 Corinthians 5:17

Galatians 2:20 I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.

2 Corinthians 5:17 Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!

Neither of us have been challenging each other in our walk with God lately. It was very convicting to realize. So we are now attempting to actually sharpen each other as Christians. I'm really excited.

I'm thinking about going public.

I've been thinking more and more about going public with my blog. And by that I mean telling people in real life that I actually have a blog. People that might read it. I have told a select few friends already, but either I WANT them to read it, or I know they wont because they don't have time. :) But what if I were to start announcing my blog posts on facebook? I have 274 facebook friends. Many of them are students. Some of them are family. Some are people I only see once a year. Do I want all of them to have access to my inner thoughts?

I'm not ready for the paparazzi

I realized this morning one of my biggest fears about putting my blog out there: I already feel like people watch me and are waiting for me to be pregnant. Do I really want them all in on my thoughts and feelings on the matter? They'll want to talk about at inconvenient times. They might whisper behind my back. They might offer unwanted advice. At least when people offer unwanted advice on in the internet I can ignore their comment until a later time when I'm ready to hear it.

Disclaimer: I do appreciate your advice. Really I do. But, as I'm sure you can understand, I'm not always in the mood to listen. :) I do always come back to it though. So don't stop!

Another fear about putting my blog out there is that I've written some personal things about real people! Believe it or not, The Frog and The Crush are real people. You can't make that stuff up. What would they think if they read those posts? What would they say if I told them I wrote about them to try to help moms of young girls?

My blog isn't private. Anyone could look at it, if they found it. I just haven't been advertizing.


So, is your blog open to your friends and family? How does that work? Would you suggest it? Pros and Cons?

Leaving tomorrow

TH and I leave for camp tomorrow. I'm very excited, but also nervous. According to my chart, Aunt Flow is due any day now. I had a tinge of cramping this morning which has caused me to be on high alert all day, which has also caused me to be a bit bitchy. Not only is it a pain to be on your period when you are camping, (and white water rafting with jr high boys who may or may not even know what a period is) but I really don't want to face this while I'm there. I've got some really awesome friends, as well as my amazing husband, who haven't let me hide in my room with the covers over my head the last couple weeks. I appreciate them more than they know. The downside to that is I spend a lot of time crying because that's how I process things. Also, I haven't exactly been facing my feelings and fears quite as directly as maybe I should be. Instead of being buried under my comforter, I've dug myself a cozy hole beneath lists and deadlines. I'm not sure what I'm going to do come Wednesday.

If I'm a crying, snotty, emotional wreck at camp someone is bound to notice. I guess I might just be spending lots of time wandering through the woods trying to pull myself together. At this point the last thing I want to talk about and process at camp around 120 people is my "infertility."

On the other hand, if I find I'm prego at camp, well, that isn't ideal either. What if I have morning sickness? What if all I want to do is lie in bed all day feeling yucky? How can I keep my mouth shut to be able to tell my parents first? And I'd want to tell them first.

This was the reason I decided not to be a counselor this year. Not because I knew I'd be on my period, but because I'm attempting to work through so much right now in my own life and relationship with God. How can I reach other people when I'm so selfishly consumed? Administration is much safer. If I find myself crumbling I can pretend I have something very important to attend to and excuse myself.

I guess it was bound to happen this year. Last year I was ovulating during camp and TH and I, creative as we tried to be, were unable to escape to, well, make a baby. Not sure what that has to do with anything, but blog readers like inappropriate personal facts, right?

So that's where I'm at. I'll let you all know how I fared on Wednesday when I get home.

RIP Mr Darcy

At the tender age of four my family had a dog. This dog was a black lab/German Shepherd mix. Her name was Jenny. Jenny was the sweetest and bestest dog in the world. She liked to chase birds.

It just so happened that a huge flock of pigeons liked to frequent our back yard. Every time they would land Jenny would go charging around the yard chasing them until they would fly away, only to repeat the process the next day.

One day Jenny got really lucky. There were so many pigeons that day that in the confusion of trying to fly away one was caught by our ever faithful canine companion. Jenny loved her new birdy so much she held on tight and shook it really hard. Like a slobbery spinning mouth hug. Sadly the fragile little birdy didn't fare so well from this lovin'.

Brother and I happened to be watching on this particular day and looked on in horror as Jenny loved on her her new birdy friend. We shrieked and cried for someone to save it. My grandfather swooped in and rescued the poor innocent bird and placed him in a shoe box. The image of that poor helpless bird is still burned into my memory. Most of it's feathers had been torn off, the rest were slobbered flat. It's skin was red and inflamed. Grandpa, seeing my distress, offered to take the birdy to the vet. Thank goodness for grandpas. He came home an hour later and, with sorrow in his voice, let us know that the vet's office did all they could for the birdy, but he wasn't going to make it. "Thanks anyways, Grandpa. You did all you could."




Flash forward seven years. My parents were having a dinner party with a couple friends. Brother and I were playing outside and decided that we wanted a drink. I entered the house and was frozen stiff as I heard these words flowing out of my dear grandfather's mouth:

"Jenny really mangled that bird. Rachel was so upset though, I couldn't just take care of it in front of her. So I put it in a box and took it around the block and stepped on it. I had to tell her I took it to the vet."

I was stunned into silence. The laughter in his voice was so contradictory. And the dinner guests were all similarly amused. How could they find any humor in the situation? Grandpa was a liar. He. Was. A. Murderer. I rounded the corner into the kitchen slowly, trying to keep my face composed as I looked into the eyes of a man I trusted my life to every day. A man who meant the world to me.

"You didn't take him to the vet?" My voice wavered and my eyes began to burn with tears, but I choked them back. "You told me you took the bird to the vet."

Stifling his laughter, Grandpa assured me that it was the only solution for the bird, and was the kindest thing to do. His face had changed though. No longer was I looking into the eyes of my kindly grandfather. I was looking at the face of a cold blooded killer. More than that, I was looking at the face of a liar. Seven years I had quietly and ignorantly believed that the bird who was in so much pain that day had gone to the vet to be saved. I discovered that day that no such measures were taken to revive the bird. Seven years I believed that it had had the proper burial deserved of birds viciously attacked. I recoiled in horror as I learned that he had been carelessly tossed in the trash in the alley.

And the kicker? As I looked around the dinner table at the other faces that looked at mine, which was now starting to streak with tears, I saw my parents. They had known too. All this time.....

I got over it eventually. Pretty quick actually. But I still would rather believe that an animal did not need to be killed, nor was it killed, except by euthanasia at a very old, well ripened age. Especially my pets. Jake and I bought two kittens two years ago and last summer one disappeared. As far as I'm concerned, she moved in with another family around the block. She didn't get eaten by coyotes. I have told Jake if he finds Jackie smooshed on the street to tell me a sad story about an orphan girl wanting a dog. Ok, I didn't really ask him to tell me that. But I might.

One of my parent's cats died on Sunday night. He was hit by a car. The neighbor found him in the street. I sort of wish they had told me he'd "moved in with someone around the corner." At least if he had had the decency to get eaten we could pretend. But instead he had the stupidity to sit in the road on a blind corner at night. RIP Mr Darcy.

He was the cuddliest kitty I've ever known

Tech Wizard

I'm thinking about taking a webdesign class. It was Mom's idea. I'm actually pretty interested in taking the class. If nothing else, Jake and I have our business website that is in need of some help. And I could help Mom with her blog too. That was the real reason she suggested I take the class. Well that, and I know she'd do anything to try to get me back in school. She might think she was being sneaky, but I know better. ;)

Even so, it looks like I might be a technical wizard by Winter. So, to my family and friends who need tech help, you're welcome.

Father's Day! and why Daddy's near death experience is indeed a laughing matter

First off, go read my mom's blog here to see how awesome my Daddy is. As a bonus, there is a lovely picture of my brother and I showing how much we love each other. The second picture of us is nice, too.

Anyways, this post is about my Dad. He's the best dad. He just is. He tucked us in. He read aloud to us. He played games with us. He would swim all day with us. He also worked really hard so my mom could stay home with Brother and I. He's kind, caring, loving, and generous. He was firm when he needed to be, and tender when other fathers wouldn't have been. I told a story in my post Let's Talk About Body Image of when he told me that I was beautiful despite and because of my rear end stretch marks. He also somehow was able to admit to me that guys would find it, the rear end that is, enjoyable to look at. Turns out he was right. THANKS DADDY.

Well, I guess talking about Dad and my rear in the same paragraph isn't exactly the best father's day card ever. But I did get him a pretty awesome card. It had Superman on the front and said "You've always been my hero...but I never want to see you in tights and cape." Then, when you open it, it plays the Superman theme song. (Starting at 43 seconds) He spent the rest of dinner opening the card anytime he was going to talk. And then anytime the conversation moved away from him. And then anytime he entered a room. And then...well then basically he carried it around all night and the house was filled with the Superman Theme for hours.

Through history, (Hollywood history, that is) there have been some awesome dads. Superman? He would be cool to have as a dad, except that you wouldn't know he was your dad because he would be busy hiding his identity.

Mufasa from The Lion King. Tell me you don't at least feel a pang of sadness when he dies. I know I'm a blubbering mess. Even so, Simba is kind of a spoiled brat. Things would have been different if his dad wouldn't have died, though. I don't see Mufasa taking a lot of that "I'm a king" crap. And he died trying to save his son, so he gets points for that.







Daniel Hillard, played by Robin Williams, was, if nothing else, a very dedicated dad. When life as he knows it crumbles and his ex-wife refuses to let him see the kids as often as he likes he dresses up as a women named Mrs. Doubtfire and gets hired as a nanny. It gets a little weird when his son walks in on him in the bathroom while he's peeing standing up, but all is forgiven in the end.

Guido Orefice, Life is Beautiful. If you haven't seen this movie yet and decide to watch it, make sure to take a box (or six) of tissues. This is one of my favorite Movie Dads. Here's the story: Jewish book keeper Guido lives a lovely, quiet life with his wife and young son, Giosuè. And then the Nazis come and take them all to a concentration camp. Guido initially saves Giosuè from being killed with the other children by hiding him in the barracks and then convinces him that their time in the camp is actually a big game. A game where Giosuè needs to be quiet and hide, a lot, simultaneously saving his life and protecting him from the horrors of the concentration camp. SPOILER: In the end, the Americans come into the camp to save the day, but not before Guido is shot and killed. Just moments before he manages to hide his son away one last time and Giosuè is saved by the Americans.

So to all you dads out there, thanks for all you do. And to my very special Dad, remember when I would hold on to your legs when you would have to go to work and you would end up dragging me down the hall because I wasn't willing to let you go? I still love you that much and would rather you didn't have to work so we could hang out all the time.

Here is a funny story, before you go, about Dad. Well, it's not so much about Dad as it is involving Dad. Let me preface this with a little back history: when Dad gets hurt, it's kinda funny. Not if he's really hurt, like bleeding everywhere. Then it's not funny. But when he's a little hurt, like hammering his finger, he hops around in big circles and does his best not to curse. Once we find out that he is not in fact seriously injured, it is a little hard not to giggle. This infuriates him, which makes me sad, but sometimes I can't help it. My mom especially can't help it.


Ok, back to the story. So one day Dad was, well I've actually forgotten what exactly he was doing, but he was doing something on the roof. Perhaps getting rid of cobwebs under the eaves or screwing in hooks for Christmas lights. I think it was the Christmas light hooks because I remember it was wintertime and it was starting to snow. If that wasn't what he was doing, well let's just go with it. And if it wasn't winter, let's just go with that too. It makes the story better. Anyways, instead of climbing a ladder to the tall roof line Dad decided it would be easier to lay down on the roof and inch towards the ledge. He figured he would be able to hang off the roof ever so slightly to screw in the hangers. Very sound logic. Apparently it had been working because he had worked his way over to the far end of the house. Head down and arms hanging over the eave, Dad suddenly found himself slipping. See, living in the wilderness means that you get more rigorous exercise in your day to day life than you do in the city. This was our first winter on the mountain and he discovered that very day that without even noticing it he had indeed lost an inch or two from his waist line. And because of that, he was suddenly slipping head first off the roof.


Somehow he managed to not fall off the roof (probably with some amazing Spider Man like agility) and he quickly ran inside to tell us all about his near death experience. As he is talking, Mom, the ever gentle, loving, and caring wife that she is, is sitting on the couch looking like she is about to burst. When the story is over, dear old Daddy patiently asks Mom why she looks like she will explode into laughter at the thought of his demise. She responds like so:


"I was just realizing that we would have found you dead due to obvious head trauma on the side of the house...with your pants around your ankles!" And that was all she wrote, folks. Mother, Brother and I were practically rolling on the floor in tears. Brother then pointed out that we might not have found him for a while because it was starting to snow and he could have just been covered up.

"We might not have found you until Spring!" Apparently that was even more than we could handle because at that point we were literally on the floor in tears.


I'm not implying that death by falling off the roof head first is any laughing matter. But you have to admit: it would have been at least a little odd to have found Dearest Dad dead with his pants around his ankles. There would have been no explanation at all. I still crack up when I think about it. That night at dinner we each took turns writing Dad's eulogy, making up stories about him being a roof nudist. He would have been the nudest roof dweller in the land. And that, my friends (if you still want to be my friends after this horrifying story) is my Father's Day Story.

A day in the life

What DOES a day in the life of this young wife look like?

7:30am Alarm goes off. Groan and push snooze. Roll over for some morning cuddles with the Hubs
7:39am Alarm goes off again. Sleep through it while Hubs presses snooze every nine minutes until...
8:24am Get up and let the dogs out. Use the potty (don't say you don't first thing in the morning) and grab sweats/robe.
8:30am Head to the kitchen to feed the dogs. Jackie is already barking at the door.
8:32am Consider whether to join Hubs in the shower to save water or make him a surprise breakfast.
8:33am Decide that cereal and Facebook sound like a lot less work than either a shower or a surprise breakfast.
8:34am Start tea pot and make cereal. Check email, Facebook, blog, and TapZoo.

I had intended to make a whole day's schedule for you, but the truth is on any given day I can be going to projects with Jake, cleaning the house, cooking, babysitting for friends, walking the dogs, working out, paying bills, running errands, making copies, filing paperwork, thinking about what to make for dinner, menu planning, grocery shopping, going to the bank, vacuuming, brushing the dogs, vacuuming some more, washing dishes, washing laundry, meeting with our accountant, thinking about house projects, watering plants, vacuuming again, talking on the phone with Mom, stopping by Mom's house to talk to her face to face, making lunch at home, going to lunch with a friend, going to lunch with Jake, vacuuming, being a sexcretary (not a typo), stapling documents, making dessert, answering the phone, talking to clients, more vacuuming, and...and...and...

Summer camp!

Blogging is SO time consuming. I've been talking a lot about this with my mom lately. She's been working really hard to make her blog, The Chloe Chronicles, something special, and she's doing a fantastic job. I, on the other hand, have recently been elected "Camp Administrator" for the annual youth group camp this summer and it has taken a real toll on my blog writing time. Camp is in a week and a half and very little has actually been done in terms of preparation. I have spent very large chunks of the last five days in the Camp Director's (a local youth pastor) office. On top of keeping the Camp Director in line, I have a house to clean, a husband to feed and spend time with, a pregnancy crisis center to volunteer at, and did I mention that husband to spend time with? Believe it or not he doesn't consider time I spend writing to all my 14 followers quality time with him. Even when I'm doing it right next to him. Crazy, right?

What I was coming here to say was: I haven't been around much lately because I've been SUPER busy with this camp stuff, and will continue to be busy with this camp stuff for the next two weeks. I told you I was going to keep myself busy. But don't worry, I'm not over extending myself. I get a high off doing administration duties. Being able to tell people what to do, and have them listen...it's like crack for me. Seriously. And I'm good, too. I'm very organized. I make lists. I stay on top of deadlines. I keep everyone up to date. I keep all the paperwork in order. I keep copies of all my paperwork in order.

So, since I am single-handedly trying to keep camp and my husband from simultaneously imploding, I've let blogging slide for a bit.

I made a yummy spaghetti dinner with home make garlic bread. The kitchen is sparkling (thanks mostly to my SIL who does my dishes when she comes over for dinner), and speaking of kitchens, now it is time to assign Kitchen Clean Up for the campers. Yippie!!

Busy, busy day

I have decided not to sit on my butt. I want to be a mom, but I'm not. It is not helpful to anyone or anything when I just sit here depressed and waiting. I have put my life on hold because I have been waiting. Well...no more waiting! I need to not spend all my time in this awkward limbo. First things first: yesterday I got off my bum and put in some Jillian Michaels 30 Day Shred to get my blood pumping.

Today I went with Jake to some meetings he had. He needed me to help him with measurements and sketches (I have much neater hand writing than he does) and so I went along.

After that I met with one of the local youth pastors to discuss this summer's youth camp. I used to be really involved in youth ministry and have been backing off lately. It's been a nice break, but I feel like I could be more involved now. I offered my administrative talents and we got a lot done today. I'm really excited.

Tomorrow I'm meeting with the pastor at my own church to talk about children's Sunday school. He had contacted me back in December about helping him revamp the children's Sunday school group, and I have been putting it off because I didn't want to become too enmeshed in a bunch of different ministries and then want to back out when I got pregnant.

No. More. Waiting.

Summer movies

I love super hero movies. I just do. I don't know the comic book backgrounds of most of them, but when I was growing up my dad would take my brother and I to the Saturday noon matinee of every big superhero block buster opening weekend. It is one of my favorite memories of my childhood. In fact, those movies have shaped how I watch movies in the theater even today.

• We'd get to the theater at least an hour early to get the best seats in the theater. I don't go that far any more, but we live in a very small town with a very small theater. Unless you go to a movie on a weekend night you're not going to need to go an hour early. But I still like to be there early if at all possible.
• We didn't buy candy or popcorn or drinks. Dad would say "If you get popcorn you'll be thirsty. If you get a drink you'll have to get up during the movie to use the bathroom. You don't want to miss part of the movie because you have to go to the bathroom, do you?" Now that I'm older I think he just didn't want to spend $30 extra on popcorn, but I still don't get popcorn or drinks when I'm at the movies...because he was right. I DON'T want to have to go to the bathroom during the movie.
• Since we would get to the theater so early, and Brother and I would be so excited to see whatever awesome movie it was, we would be a bit restless and need to kill some time. Dad came up with the best game ever. Statue. Here are the rules. On three, Brother and I have to be as still as possible in whatever position we were in. Arms up, standing, sitting, mouth open or closed...no moving. Who ever held it longest got a quarter. We thought it was the best game ever. I don't force Jake to play with me, but I do intend on playing it with my kids when they are old enough to take to the movies. If there are still movie theaters then and we aren't all watching movies by implanted microchip.
• I also prefer to see afternoon or mid-week showings. Less people. 

Anyways, this summer has a lot of superhero movies coming out. I thought I'd let you know of some that I'm looking forward to.

I saw Thor. I liked it. But you can wait to rent it if you haven't already seen it. It was campy in all the right places, like a good superhero movie should be.

Jake and I saw X-men First Class yesterday. LOVED IT. If you like superhero movies, I'd suggest seeing this one in theaters. It's going to be hard to top it this summer, in my opinion.

Green Lantern. I have a crush on Ryan Reynolds. We may see it in theaters if we have a free evening.

Transformers: Dark Side of the Moon. I didn't really do Transformers when I was little. Brother had a few of the toys, but they weren't a big deal to me. My husband and his sister, on the other hand, LOVE Transformers. Especially my sister-in-law. It took me a few tries to watch the first one, (they'd start it late at night, and I kept falling asleep) but finally I saw the whole thing. I'm sure I'll be seeing Transformers 3 in theaters at least once with her. And I remember Shia Labeouf from way back when he was doing Even Stevens, so it's a bit sentimental, too.


Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2. Not a comic book superhero, but what can you do. I haven't read the books. But I've watched all the movies. How could I miss the very last one!? Besides, who doesn't love a good battle between good and evil?

Captain America. Abs, abs, abs. Oh, and good verse evil once again. And this is basically the Avengers kick off, right? Gotta see it.

So yeah...I probably missed one, but those are some of the movies are I'm looking forward to seeing this summer. And, for nostalgia's sake I'm sure I'll be bringing Dad along for at least a couple. At least I'm seeing X-Men again with him.

Looking for the Twilight Trailer?

Since I've already come out of the coffin about my love of Twilight, I guess I'll just keep going and provide you with the newly released trailer, in case you weren't watching the MTV Movie Awards last night.



You're welcome.

I just can't surrender this

Surrender, the Lincoln Brewster version (link)

I'm giving you my heart, and all that is within

I lay it all down for the sake of you my King

I'm giving you my dreams, I'm laying down my rights

I'm giving up my pride for the promise of new life

And I surrender all to you, all to you

And I surrender all to you, all to you

I'm singing You this song, I'm waiting at the cross

And all the world holds dear, I count it all as loss

For the sake of knowing You for the glory of Your name

To know the lasting joy, even sharing in Your pain

And I surrender all to you, all to you

And I surrender all to you, all to you

I grew up in a Christian home. I became a Christian very early. Maybe six or seven. I rededicated my life at 15. I don't know why it shocks me that I'm still learning things. The lesson I'm learning right now? Well, it's a really hard one. One I thought I had learned years ago. One I would rather not have to learn again. One I really would like to not think about.

But not thinking about it has just delayed the inevitable. So here I am. Thinking about it really hard.

Thursday night at music practice for tomorrow morning's church service I found myself singing the same song I've sung at least a hundred times, but was dumbfounded by the lyrics. Suddenly it all made sense. 

Surrender. Surrender. Surrender. I have always thought that I had surrendered my whole life to God. That’s what it means to be a Christian, right? If you had asked me four days ago I would have said without a doubt that I have surrendered everything to God. I would do whatever He asked.

But Thursday night, sitting on a stool in the sanctuary, I felt rather than heard God's voice. “You haven’t surrendered everything."

I'm giving you my dreams, I'm laying down my rights

I'm giving up my pride for the promise of new life

And I surrender all to you

The truth is I want to be a mother. It has been my desire since I was a little girl. I wanted to be a wife and a mother. I knew that I would be – and certainly thought I would be by now. So far, I haven't been able to be a mother. It feels like it's been forever. It feels like right now is the right time. It feels like I've been betrayed. It feels like I'm in limbo. It feels like a crushing weight pushing me down into the dirt.

I know, I know. "You're young still." "You've only been married three years." "You have tons of time ahead of you." "Enjoy sleeping in while you can."

Believe it or not those words of encouragement aren't as helpful as one might think. But that is not the point anyways. The point is this is the one area of my life that I am not willing to surrender. When Jake and I decided to let God be in charge of the size of our family (i.e. stopped using birth control) I *knew* in my head that it didn’t mean we would be parents right away. I was ready to wait six months. That seemed like a reasonable amount of time. When six months came and went I was even ready to wait a year. Dear Aunt Flow came to visit on the one year anniversary. I started to become bitter. Now that we are closer to two years than we are to one, I find myself engulfed in grief. And at times rage.

Psalm 37:4
Take delight in the LORD, and he will give you the desires of your heart.

I *knew* that this verse didn’t mean that God was a genie in a bottle. I *knew* that it meant that my desires would become what God desires over time, but apparently I really didn't understand that. I’ve come to the startling realization that I have sort of been looking at God as a genie, ready to do my bidding if only I rub the bottle in the right way. 

How horrifying.

Surrendering everything really means surrendering my dreams; even the dreams that God gave me so long ago. I KNOW God gave me the desire to be a mom. Why would He give me this dream and not a child to go with it?

I’ve talked before about being a brat. I have not had to wait very long for things I have wanted. I wanted to be married. Less than a year after graduating high school I was married. Why the wait now? I’m probably being taught a lesson in patience or suffering or relying on God or something, but geez how I wish I could just have a baby instead. Can’t I learn this lesson in some different (and preferably easier) way?

Giving this dream to God means that I am giving up all control over it. In reality I don't have control over it anyways, but holding on to this resentment lets me at least feel like I have some control over the situation. I can have some control over my feelings. Gosh I'm such a control freak.

So there I was, staring at the while sheet of paper on the music stand on Thursday night, everyone around me working out transitions and chord progressions. I finally understood the meaning of the song. Real surrender means that God becomes enough for me.

And then came the realization that floored me: right now, God isn’t enough. I want a child. It pisses me off that God hasn’t given me one. I probably won’t get one until I allow God to be enough, but right now I’m crippled by the fear that comes with giving up one’s dreams and desires. What if He still says no? What if He makes me wait for years and years and YEARS like the women in the Bible who yearned to be mothers? Sarah was 90. NINETY!

I don't know what I'm going to do tomorrow. Will I fall apart in tears on stage? Will I ignore the yearning to be close to God and desire to have a child grow within me and just sing the song because that's what I have do it? How long will I continue to be bitter?

Stay tuned to read about my other misconceived (no pun intended) notions of what a Christian is. Guess what? Being a good Christian doesn't mean you know everything. Being a good Christian doesn't me that you don't continue to learn lessons and struggle with sin. Gosh, I thought I knew that already.

Twilight

hubba hubba

I have a confession. I have read all the Twilight books. I even have read the partially written Midnight Sun, which is the first book written from Edward's perspective. I have seen all the movies. I have spent more time than I will admit to searching the internet for sneak peaks of Breaking Dawn.

They aren't the greatest of books. It's not the best of stories. But it's fun. It's silly. The movies have gotten progressively better, and yes, I will be seeing Breaking Dawn, parts one and two in theaters. Maybe not opening night.

I'm not a die hard fan. I'm not even an original fan. I thought all the bad things about Twilight up until my mom started reading them. Why did she start reading them? I'm not really sure. But she convinced me to at least give them a try. I am involved in the youth group at my church and had been hearing girls talk about Twilight for years and figured I should go ahead and find out what it was that they were reading.

It didn't take long. I devoured all four books in as many days. They are very easy reading and the story moved fast. I don't know what to tell you...I have a thing for the dark and mysterious guy. The people who don't understand the allure of Edward just don't like the "bad boys." I do like the angst ridden bad boy. And you can't get much angstier or badder than a boyfriend who wants to kill you and drink your blood, but also loves you and doesn't want to hurt you. COME ON!

If you want a shirtless pic, go find it yourself

Jake is a little humiliated by it, I think. I was too, at first. The second movie was out of the theaters but not yet on DVD when I discovered the series. I waited patiently and quietly to see it, and then cuddle in the privacy of my mom's couch to watch it. After a while I started getting more bold in telling certain peoples that I had read the books. I even convinced my sisters-in-law to come with me and my mom to see Eclipse in theaters. Don't worry, we went to a matinee. In any case, I guess I'm really coming out now since I'm putting this on my blog.

Why am I putting this on my blog? Because I'm avoiding finishing another post I've been working on that actually has some depth and reality to it. I'm avoiding it because I don't want to have to work out the issues that are addressed. How's that for a hook? Well, stay tuned. I might get up the guts to finish it next, or I might just post pictures of a hunky, and much warmer, Jacob Black.

Have you read or seen Twilight? If so, what did you think?

Regrets?

I planned on going away to college because that's what you do. It was never really my dream.
I was on the track to get a career because that's what you do, but deep down I wanted something different.

I wanted to be a wife.

I was the only one of my friends who was interested in making that a priority. My childhood best friend graduated a couple weekends ago and is headed to medical school in the fall to become a neurologist. I'm so proud of her. She was always so driven in school and I've always known she do something big some day.

When I called her to tell her I was engaged at the tender age of 18 she was excited for me, but when I told her I was going to be married in five months, just three days after I turned 19, she just about choked on her soda.

"What about your future?"

"My future is with Jake," I told her.

Her future and self-worth have been wrapped in her education and credentials. There isn't anything wrong with that, she just can't wrap her head around the fact that I don't place the same importance on a college degree that she does.

Even when I was on track for a "real" career, the jobs I had in mind were such that I would be available to be a wife and mom first. Minimal and flexible hours, and a short-ish college track so I could get in and out as soon as possible.

It's kinda weird seeing all the pictures of my classmates graduating on facebook. That could have been me. I could be graduating this spring. I could be throwing my cap and making status updates that say "What now?" or "Gosh, now I have to find a job."

I'd be lying if I said that I didn't have a little regret from time to time that I didn't finish college. I even play with the idea of going back.

But the truth is: I'm SO happy where I'm at. I love the life I have. I get to be a stay at home wife and work along side my husband in our own business. That's not what my friends wanted, but it's what I want.

Coming back the question: what about your future? What about it? I have no idea what tomorrow holds. A friend's husband had a heart attack last week. She certainly didn't plan on that happening on Sunday afternoon when she was looking at weekly planner. Another friend has adopted nine of her ten children. She didn't plan on that when she got married.

Can you really plan for your life? I don't know what will happen tomorrow. So I live for today.

I don't mean that I'm selling all I own and going to spend my life hiking through the rain forest. But I don't see any overwhelming benefit to spending the time and money pursuing a college degree I don't plan on using.

Sure, I could have need for a degree in the future. But I might not. I'm choosing to live in the now, rather than the what if.

Most of my graduating friends don't have any more direction than they did when they started school. I'm not saying they made the wrong decision going to college. I'm just saying I am confident that I didn't make the wrong decision not going.