Here I Go Thinking Again

So There I Was Minding My Own Business and In Walks February...

2012-02-02T07:36:00.003-06:00

Dude. What the hell. Why is it February already? I'm fairly certain that when you have kids your life automatically gets put on fast forward. Tyler's been a little needy lately. When I pick him up from daycare he wants Mommy. Not just near him but he wants Mommy RIGHT THERE, holding him, sitting next to him, ect. This is totally fine, except that I need to get crap ready for tomorrow, make dinner, wash bottles, make baby food, be the door monitor for the other needy being in my life-the dog, the list goes on. Ryan got home late last night and found me running around the house like a crazy person. When he asked me what I was doing I answered, "Making baby food, eating dinner, watching an episode of Lost, letting the dog in, letting the dog out, pulling documents for the CPA for our taxes, filing papers on my IRA, paying bills and washing dishes." I am a multi-tasking super woman. It then dawned on me that THIS is why I think the time goes by so fast. I do in one evening what a normal person does all week. I'm a working mom and this is my life. Ya know, I'm ok with that. Well, I wouldn't mind some more help around the house or a few extra hours in the day, but I would rather be busy than bored. I do much better having multiple things on my plate, multiple projects flung over my sewing machine, multiple duties to accomplish at work.

I remember back in my early to mid-twenties I wished I was one of those care free fly with the wind types. Ya know, they live for the moment and don't plan anything, they have the coolest stories, and work at the coolest places. I was never this person. I panicked when I accidentally left my planner home, and THAT was in high school. I've had a retirement account since I was 21, and a will with funeral instructions since I was 25. I organize my grocery list according to the isles of the grocery store I go to and then by alphabet. My coupons are also organized the same way. I can only use large silver paperclips. The edges of my tape are folded in so the edge doesn't stick to the roll, and my workspace at home and at work MUST be organized in a certain and similar fashion. I'm high strung and OCD. I've tried living a "free-er" lifestyle but I'm just not programmed that way. I like to go and do. I can't just sit around and relax. I need to do, I need to go.

I've learned that I am what I am. Some things should be adjusted, everyone has something to work on, but I've learned to accept me for me. And I'm going to accept me for me again. I'm a working mom. Time is always against me. I put my son first and when he goes to bed I run around the house like a bat out of hell prepping for tomorrow and cleaning up from today. I've been reading the same book for about a year, and I've had the same sewing project on my machine for the past month. Every night my husband finds me asleep with all the lights on in the bedroom, Nook in hand a fresh unplayed game of solitaire on the screen. I wake up to a precious angel calling out, "Mama! Mama!" Even with my lack of time, I wouldn't change much. Maybe a vacation to Hawaii every now and then...

Are You A Sarah?

2012-01-05T07:35:00.003-06:00

By now I'm sure you all have heard or read about this girl, . Dude breaks into her home and she blows him away with the shot gun. It's about goddam time. We have laws that allow us to protect ourselves and headline after headline reads "woman stabbed and raped", "man mugged and shot", "woman kidnapped, found dead in creek". YOU are not immune, this could happen to YOU. It happened to her, why not you? My parents live in one of the oldest/nicest country club's and they've had break-ins. Do you have to arm yourself with a 12-gauge shot gun? No, but you should do something. Don't just think it won't ever happen to you and then if something does, not know what to do.

The more people stand up and start defending themselves, such as this chick in this article, the less crime we'll have. My dad is a cop, I've heard some of the most grotesque horror stories that he has witnessed and about half of them could have been avoided if the woman had shot the dude. One I will always remember. A woman was running along a public running trail with her dog. Dude approaches her, acts interested in her dog, grabs her, hauls her off into the woods next to the trail, rapes and beats her. That guy got off on a technicality. He's roaming the streets. He's at the store getting groceries just like you and me. He's pumping gas just like you and me. He's getting a cup of coffee just like you and me. If the girl had a gun and used it she wouldn't have been raped or beaten.

I'm not a lawyer, but if someone comes at you and you have reason to believe that he/she will physically harm you or someone around you you have every right to use deadly force to protect yourself and others. I'm not talking about if someone gets in your face and threatens you, that's not reasonable cause to use deadly force, I'm talking about if someone grabs you or you see they have a weapon and it's you or them, that's reasonable cause. If they're on your property, HA well, soon as they enter the house it's a done deal.

I have a gun, I practice at the range on a regular basis. I have a concealed carry permit and I use it. I'm licensed in 47 states to carry my firearm, concealed, anywhere I go. If I'm jogging with Tyler in his stroller and someone tries something they're gonna get shot. I'm at Walmart putting my son and the groceries in the car and someone tries something, they're gonna get shot. You come into my home without an invitation you're gonna get shot. Basically, don't fuck with me. I have zero tolerance for that nonsense, I know the law, I know my rights, I have a gun on me and I'll use it, so move on.

None of this warning shot bull crap either. 1) If you're coming at me, there's no way I would know if a warning shot will stop you. 2) I don't want you getting off because some douche-bag lawyer found some loop hole and you come after me again. 3) If you're trying to hurt me, I think it's pretty clear you're a dirt bag and I'm taking you out. 4) Taking you out means there's one less shit bag on the streets. As they said in my concealed carry class, "No warning shots, take the bastard out."

If you're anti-gun, that's ok. You have a right to believe anything you want but arm yourself somehow. Carry pepper spray, or a baton, or a tazer. All of those are legal in most states and will at least give you time to get away. I would say to take a self defense class, but I'm gonna be honest here, unless you're a trained fighter a dude can take a woman. If a man tried to overpower me, I would stand no chance. If you're a dude, I don't care how badass you are, enough hits can take you down. My dad is a big guy, he's taken on two men before and came out unscathed, three however, even he says he's not sure he could take on three. Most robberies are done in pairs, not by just one single person.

Crime happens because the bad guys think they'll get away with it. No one's gonna break into your home to steal your jewelry if they know they'll be killed in the process. No one is going to try to rape you if they know you're armed. There's exceptions to everything of course, and gang members for one don't care how armed you are. If you have what they want they're going to try to get it. In that case, carry extra loaded magazines and learn how to swap them out quickly. No one's gonna look out for you but you and it only takes one time to completely destroy your life. One raping, that's all it takes to destroy your life. One time being beaten, one time being mugged and you'll be scared, scarred and broken for a long time. My dad's a cop, I hear about it all the time. You don't go back to the life you knew, you're forever changed, and you're forever changed because of some shit-bag. Enough is enough. No more dicking around. It's nice to see one of our own taking matters into her own hands.

When A Door Closes, A Window Opens

2011-12-30T08:50:00.004-06:00

Well it only took six months before I had my first royal mommy screw-up. We flew to South Carolina and back just fine, I had enough milk, books, toys, ect. for both holiday trips. I've never forgotten anything for daycare. I've always had enough diapers, wipes, always made enough baby food, have only had to supplement his milk with formula once since the Puppp issue, due to supply issues while road tripping during Thanksgiving. No major crisis, no major flub-ups, until now.

Yesterday evening Tyler and I were waiting for his bottle to warm up. I let Thor outside and Tyler thinks Thor is HILARIOUS. That little boy loves that dog. So from the window of the back door we were watching Thor run around the yard. Then I had the fantastic idea of going outside with the dog while the bottle warmed up. All three of us are outside playing in the yard for about 20 minutes I picked Tyler up and headed toward the house and the door wouldn't open. It was locked. I thought, "What in the world?" Our backdoor has two locks, the doorknob and the deadbolt. The doorknob doesn't lock, the lock is stuck in the unlock position and no amount of WD-40 or Ryan's or my dad's strength can budge that thing. We use the deadbolt. Obviously a deadbolt can only be locked from the inside, you can't lock the deadbolt then close the door, the deadbolt will block the door from being closed. I must have tried opening that door 20 times in less than a minute. Surely my mind was playing tricks on me. There's no possible way it could have locked behind me. It was locked, locked tight. I didn't have my keys, or my cell. I had a dog and a baby and two chairs, that's it.

There was a brief moment of OMIGOD, WHAT THE FUCK DO I DO!!! We have a shed area joining the house, I tried that door-locked. Tried the back door again-locked. We have a 6ft. privacy fence enclosing our backyard; I tried both gates-both locked with padlocks. I thought, "Maybe I can jump the fence," but 1)the front door is locked, 2)it's too far of a drop so I'd need to leave Tyler in the backyard by himself and there aren't slats on the other side of the fence so I risk not being able to get back over the fence to get to him. Obviously that idea is a no go. I tried the back door again-locked. I cursed. A lot. If I had to I could wait until Ryan got home but he was in Mississippi and wouldn't be home until about 9pm. It was 5pm. I went for the windows-all locked. Tried the back door again-locked. I guess I figured since the back door magically locked itself, it would magically unlock itself? I have no idea.

Tyler thought this whole scenario was hilarious and was laughing uncontrollable the entire time as I ran from door to window to gate furiously trying to open one of them. The only option I had left was to either yell for my neighbors and HOPE they heard me or break into the house. My neighbors don't have keys to the doors or the gates. There are three people who have keys besides myself. One person is in NYC for the week, one is in Mississippi and the other is in Atlanta for the week. I'm sure the police or fire department could break into the house but they'll cause the most damage and it being New Year's it was highly unlikely the doors or locks would be replaced before Tuesday. So, either I break into the house and attempt to cause as little damage as possible or I scream bloody murder, hope someone hears me, helps me, and watch while someone busts my door down.

I tried the windows again and found one of the windows a fraction of an inch further from the siding than the other windows. I pulled the screen off and was able to jimmy my pinky into the gap making it bigger. I pushed and pulled on that window for about 20 minutes, finally it popped out of the casing just enough so I could strip the weather gard and pry it out of the jam. Our windows are really high on the house, they start at my chest and I'm short, so there was no way I could jump into the house with Tyler. I was not a fan of laying him on the ground with my hyper dog running around, but I had no option. I laid him as close to the house as I could, jumped through the window, ran through the house, flew open the door and scooped up my precious baby. He was fine.

I was able to pop the window back into place and gerryrig the lock, although we have a nice draft coming from where I stripped the weather strip. After the whole ordeal I wasn't sure if I should be thankful that whoever installed that window did a lousy job or upset that if I can break into my house anyone can. I called Ryan, turns out the job in MS took longer than he expected and wouldn't be home till about 11pm. If I wasn't able to get through that window I don't know what we would have done. I would have had to break the window glass I guess.

Our outside lights weren't even on! We would have been trapped back there, no food, nothing other than the clothes on our backs in the pitch black. I want to kick myself for not being more cautious. One things for sure, that won't happen again!

Merry Christmas!

2011-12-19T09:20:00.002-06:00

We will be out of town for Christmas and I won't be bringing my laptop with me, so Merry Christmas early from Steph, Ryan and Tyler!

Flying Babies

2011-12-13T09:41:00.003-06:00

We are flying to my parents for Christmas. The drive to TN for Thanksgiving was rough, not because Tyler was difficult, Tyler was an angel, but because Ryan and I both worked a full day and were exhausted. The drive back was even worse, we sat in traffic for three extra hours due to multiple accidents and didn't even get home until 2am. Do we want a repeat of that, no thank you, so we're flying.

I'm a nervous wreck about this. I've never flown with a kid before, let alone tried bringing a ton of crap through security including milk and food. I've done my research, talked to people who have flown with kids and even contacted TSA just to make sure I know what to expect and have all my ducks in a row. The LAST thing I want to do is have them tell me we can't fly, we miss our flight or end up having to leave something we need behind. I'm nervous about security, but I have my head around it. The actual flying however makes me want to twitch.

Have you ever been on a flight with a baby? More than likely the baby starts screaming when the air pressure changes in the cabin. The kid doesn't realize that his head isn't going to explode and starts screaming because he's uncomfortable. Babies can't talk, it's their only form of communication. Never, not in all my flying have I ever seen anyone be nice and understanding with the parents of the screaming kid. They get dirty looks, they're avoided, I've heard them be cussed out. Is the screaming kid annoying? Yes. Is it the parents fault? No. It's not the babies fault. The baby doesn't understand, he's too little. I remember being on one flight and some dude reamed a mom out. Her baby was crying, and she was doing everything she could to calm him down, nothing was working. Homeslice over there told her that if she was half a decent mother she would be able to control her kid. This dude obviously knew crap about babies, kids, or women. I felt terrible for her. The rest of the flight she tried consoling her baby with tears streaming down her face.

I don't want Tyler disturbing everyone on the plane. I don't want dirty looks from everyone. I don't want to be cussed out or told I'm a crappy mom. I don't care if these people know me, know my kid, know how I parent or not, I don't want any of that to happen. Who would? So for that I'm nervous.

This brings me to my main point. Why are people so intolerant of babies on planes? Their BABIES, they can't help it, they don't know any better. Adults however, do. We're not tolerant of the crying baby who doesn't understand what's going on, but we're tolerant of the lady crowding our paid for seat with her kitting bag. We're tolerant of the dude who's stomach and legs spill over on to our laps. We're tolerant of the lady who wants to talk our ear off the entire flight, and the dude who wants to whine about his divorce, and the guy who watches porn on his laptop the whole flight, and the girl who's Lady Gaga music is so loud you can hear it through her earphones. We're tolerant of the dude in the seat behind us who keeps kicking our seat, but we're not tolerant of the crying baby. Why are we not tolerant of the baby? Because the crying baby is annoying and it bothers us. Dude's stomach, knitting needle lady, porno man and tall seat kicker guy are also annoying, but we don't give them dirty looks or tell them their crappy for being large, knitting or too tall. We tolerate it. We think, "Oh great, dude's stomach is in my face, oh well, it's not like he has anywhere else to go." Or, "Of course, I would get the seat in front of Lurch, oh well, he can't help he's tall." Yet the minute a baby screams you hear, groans, sighs, see eye rolling and dirty looks in the kid's direction.

Well, I'm sorry you're inconvenienced, but it's a flight, not forever and you can deal with it. Chances are someones just as annoyed with you as you are with the crying baby and they're being polite and keeping their mouth shut and glares to themselves. Every flight I've ever been on that had a screaming baby I didn't give them dirty looks or said anything rude, the problem is, I didn't say anything at all and perhaps I should have. Perhaps I should have told the rude guy that told that mom she was crappy that I thought he was crappy that he obviously hadn't brushed his teeth in 10 years and I had to sit next to him the entire 2-hour flight. Perhaps I should have defended those parents who were given hell for trying to get to their family on the other side of the country, those parents who couldn't find a job near family and had to settle for a job many many hours away. Those parents who were just trying to get their baby home so that he could meet his grandparents.

Sending Smiles

2011-12-09T12:50:00.004-06:00

I'm sure you're all tired of the whole, "I'm super busy" comments, so I'll spare you and send some holiday smiles your way...

What Do You Mean I Have To Pay To See Santa?

2011-12-01T09:44:00.005-06:00

Remember when we were kids, we used to see Santa at the mall? You might wait in line a bit, but you would get up there, sit on Santa's lap, tell him you wanted the hottest new toy (for me it was the Star Stage), your mom or dad would take your picture, then off you went. I don't ever remember my mom forking over money. Ever. I do remember a professional photographer standing by waiting to take snapshots of the little ones for any parents who wanted professional photos. That, of course, was for "fancy" people. I don't think many people utilized that service. Our 35mm disposable Kodak sufficed just fine.

I was in the mall weeks ago getting my hair "did", and saw Santa's throne in the middle of the mall. I thought to myself, "Oh good, Santa's here, we can get Tyler's picture with him." As I walked past the winter wonderland I about-faced at the sign in front of Santa's area. $20 per kid just to see Santa, if you wanted a picture it was another $20, AND no personal picture taking allowed. Since when was a fee slapped on Santa? Seriously, visiting Santa has even become a Christmas money-making scheme? I guess no one wants to volunteer for this bit anymore, even the Santa's want to be paid. I thought surely it must just be this mall. Nope, it's most malls. Some may not charge a "sitting fee", but if you want a picture, you pay, none allowed you to take your own photo's.

Bass Pro Shop was the only place that I could find that did free Santa visits and pictures. That's their advertising too. "Free Santa visits!" How sad. Kids having to pay to see the big guy. What the hell. Needless to say, we went to Bass Pro. We were in Nashville visiting family for Thanksgiving, so we went to the Bass Pro up there. It was wonderful. The girls were dressed as elves, all were SUPER nice. Ahead of us in line, one of the little boys was scared and one of the elf girls was so great! Not only was she able to calm him down, while his mom tended to his infant sister, but as he walked away he was smiling and laughing! We had Tyler, Kael and Gabriel and they were so patient with us. Not only did they allow us to take as many of our own pictures as we wanted with each individual baby and as a group, but they took a professional one of their own of each kid and gave them to us for free. We waited about five minutes in line, and Santa looked crazy authentic. No fake beard or cheap costume. After seeing him, I wanted to tell him what I wanted for Christmas, surely this dude is the real deal! We had the best experience there. I totally recommend Bass Pro for seeing Santa, and if you're anywhere near Nashville, THAT Santa is totally worth going to see. He was awesome.

Tyler did great seeing Santa. He's not too patient with people he doesn't know holding him, but he was completely mezmerized by him. He kept feeling his beard, it was too cute!

Parenting Myths

2011-11-16T08:01:00.004-06:00

I have been a parent for almost five months and in those short five months you learn a lot about what's real and what's crap. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, and if you look, and not very far mind you, you will find a multitude of opinions on just about anything. Everybody knows, when you’re pregnant you get swarmed with “advice” aka people telling you what to do with your kid. These are people’s OPINIONS, most of time it’s based on what they went through or what someone they know went through and if it’s the latter it’s more than likely been exaggerated. Your kid isn’t their kid. You are not them. What worked for me may not work for my sisters, and what worked for my sisters may not work for their friends. You have to find what works for you. In my process of finding out what works for me I have discovered several myths. Just to remind everyone, I am in no way a health professional. I am a mom with my own experiences and my own opinions. None of this is intended as advice, you have to figure out what works for you.

Myth #1-If you don't nurse you won't have a strong bond with your baby. Yes, breastfeeding is best. We all know this, every doctor will tell you that, even the formula companies say that, right next to the sticker that says it’s pretty close to breast milk. It has antibodies that protect your little one and it’s easily digested which makes it more efficient for your baby. That doesn’t mean that mom’s and babies who don’t breastfeed don’t have a strong bond. My sisters and I were all formula fed and the bond we had and continue to have with our mom is unbreakable. She never nursed us at all. I have several friends who did both formula and nursing, I have some who just nursed, and some who just did formula. When you actually look at the relationships each of them have with their kids, without judgment or rose-colored glasses you can see they each have a strong bond with their kids. It didn’t come from their main food source, it came from that mom taking care of that baby. It came from that mom meeting that baby’s needs. I came from that mom taking time for that little one. And as Marina says, "It's not like you feed your kid from the end of a ten-foot pole in either case." Can nursing strengthen a bond, yes it can, but bottle feeding doesn't prevent a bond from forming or weaken a bond. Tyler gets breast milk but has not nursed since he was two months old. If you saw me with my son you couldn't possibly, logically think that we have a minimal bond or no bond at all.

Myth #2-Co-sleeping causes SIDS. Co-sleeping is quite the controversial topic right now. I will say that we never truly co-slept. Tyler was in a bassinet for about two weeks, then went to his crib and he’s been there ever since. The first two months of his life the kid wouldn’t take a nap unless someone was holding him, so there were many times we would fall asleep in the lounge chair. Tyler and Ryan take a nap mid-morning every Saturday in our bed and that gives me time to clean the house and do laundry. It’s difficult to roll over on someone in a lounge chair, not as difficult in bed so I keep an eye on Tyler when he’s sleeping with his dad. We’ve never had any issues. I have one friend who did co-sleep for the first few months. That baby is perfectly fine. Co-sleeping can be dangerous but if done properly and carefully your baby more than likely will be fine. Honestly, you know how you sleep. If you’re like a rock and sleep so hard that you don’t wake up easily, or fall asleep on one side of the bed and wake up upside down diagonally on the floor then maybe you should consider sleeping separate. Your kid, your life, your call. I can guarantee you that if something tragic does happen you’ll pay the price emotionally and mentally, and when you look at it like that you’ll think hard about the choices you make and if what you decide will truly work for you.

Myth #3-Baby sign language stunts verbal skills. Baby sign language has been pretty popular for a few years now. We were planning on signing with Tyler but he’s so verbal and tries so hard to communicate with us verbally (he’s already saying dada and hi!) we’ve been lazy with it. We talk to him and read to him, but haven’t really tried all that hard with the signing. Tyler responds better when you talk to him vs. signing to him. When you sign and talk he just looks at you all confused. I’ve heard two things-signing delays speech development, and I’ve heard that signing improves cognitive development. I know three people who consistently signed with their kids. Two of them are a little slow to talk, the other is already trying to read and she talks just fine. I have no idea if the speech “delay” (if you can even call it that) for the other two has anything to do with signing. The talker went to daycare, the other two stayed home. But I know kids who stayed at home and had no trouble with any milestones. My mom stayed home with my sister and she developed just fine. So, again we go back to the whole, if you want to sign with your kids go for it, if not, no biggie. Every kid is different and you should do what works for you.

Myth #4-Daycare kids have behavior problems, and developmentally slow. I’ll try not to stand on the soapbox too long. I have been on the receiving end of many horrendous comments about working mothers. I've probably heard it all. This is what I say, if a mom wants to stay home, that’s great. If a mom wants to go back to work, that’s great too. There is NOTHING wrong with either option. I know women who work out of necessity and I know women who work because they want to. A mom who chooses to work does not mean she is a selfish person. It doesn’t mean she is materialistic, it doesn’t mean she doesn’t love her kids, it doesn’t mean she wants to pawn her kids off on someone else to raise. She works for a reason and that reason is her own. You don’t live her life, so frankly you have no business making accusations about her. I know kids who stayed at home and have dealt with developmental hiccups, and I know kids who have gone to daycare and are ahead of the developmental game and vice versa. It’s not about whether your kid goes to daycare, it’s about the daycare your kid goes to. It’s OK to send your kid to daycare, just be choosy about where they go.

It can be very overwhelming for new mom's. There is so much advice it's very easy to get caught up in all of it and think you have to do something a certain way. That's simply not true. I made the mistake of taking every piece of advice to heart. I was so afraid of messing up. Reality is, you will mess up. You're human. Forgive yourself, learn, and move on. The best advice I have ever received and will ever receive came from my sister-in-law. Jenn told me that it's good to read and research but take it with a grain of salt, not all advice will work for you. Your kid is different and you have to find out what works, She's exactly right. A lot of parenting for me has been trial and error. I think that's how it is for a lot of people. In the end whether you breastfeed, bottle feed, co-sleep, sign, or utilize daycare what matters is that you love your kids, not just with words but with your actions. It's easy to say words, anyone can say the words, it's actions that matter.

So I Know It's Been Awhile...

2011-11-10T20:12:00.004-06:00

I'm pretty sure that time has shrunk since I've had Tyler. My day goes something like this:
Up @5am-pump, get ready for work
Tyler up @6am-feed him, get him ready for daycare
Work is 7-4
Pick Tyler up @4:15/4:30
We go for a walk and play until about 5:30, then it's time to pump and prep dinner
Tyler's dinner is at 6pm, he gets a bottle and solids now
Then he gets his bath, we read books and he hangs out in the swing while I cook dinner, and get stuff ready for the next day.
Ryan and I eat around 7, and Tyler goes to bed between 7-8pm.
After that, I clean up the kitchen, pack my lunch and bags, pack Tyler's bags and get his next days bottles ready.
I shower, and by then it's about 9pm, so I get on FB and usually fall asleep on my laptop.

I haven't worked out consistently since I've returned to work, I just don't have time during the week. I used to hear this from other working mom's and think, "Oh please, if you wanted it bad enough, you would find time." Shame on me, I had no idea what I was talking about. They REALLY don't have time. Unless I want to sacrifice time with Tyler or time sleeping there really is no time left in the day. Time with my son is precious and it will always come first, time with my pillow is also precious and the thought of only getting 5 hours of sleep so I can fit into my size two jeans again doesn't sound appealing at all. Sure I'll be skinny but I'll also be super cranky and unbearable to deal with.

I've been reading the same book for about eight months. It's ridiculous. It's one of the books in the Outlander series, and I LOVE that series, but every time I sit down to read (usually before bed or on the weekends while the little one is napping) I fall asleep.

The holidays are approaching and this is prime baking season. I really enjoy baking, I used to spend many weekends baking pies for work, cookies for Ryan while he was deployed, goodies for my friends. I tried to make muffins for breakfast last weekend and the batter sat on the counter for about three hours before I remembered I was supposed to be baking muffins. Tyler started fussing in the living room, I went to check on him, was consoling him and we started playing, then reading books, then we took a nap in the lounge chair.

I've always been a bit of a scatterbrain. This is why I'm super meticulous with having a place for everything and sticking to a routine. If I didn't, you'd find me in the closet walking in circles completely lost and confused. Before I got pregnant I was a multi-tasking machine. As long as I stuck to a routine and put things exactly where their "place" was I never lost anything and housework was always done. Since Tyler's been born I lose my cell phone at least twice a day, I think I might have dusted twice, and I forget things all the time. I've become a scatterbrained train wreck. I asked my doc what the hell was happening to my brain, that pregnant head wasn't a good excuse anymore now that I've had the baby. She said that breastfeeding causes your hormones to be all kinds of crazy, so it's like baby brain all over again. So I guess I have boob brain?

Four and a half months have gone by since Tyler was born. Everyday I thank God for the precious gift that is my son. Everyday I thank my lucky stars that I have him. I'm so humbled that Tyler was chosen for me. He's such a happy, smiley baby. I don't know how we got so lucky. I love being a mom, I have no idea what the heck I was doing with my life before Tyler came in the picture. Everyday he discovers something new, everyday is a new adventure, and I feel so blessed that I get to experience this new life with him. I used to hear these same words from other mom's, but I didn't get it until now. I didn't understand the love between a mom and her child. You hear about, and you think you comprehend but you don't until you have a child of your own. I get it now. It's the most amazing, all-consuming love I've ever experienced. I'm so thankful that I get to have this experience.

Banks and Why They're Getting On My Nerves

2011-10-13T08:35:00.002-05:00

I deal with two banks, one is with a credit union that Ryan and I have had since before the dinosaurs. We like that bank, never had any issues, everyone is super nice, their rates are reasonable, we're happy. I also have another account with a regular bank, non-credit union, that I've been with for about a year. Everyone is super nice and it's convenient. There are locations EVERYWHERE, and the return rate on my IRA is good; I was happy. WAS...happy. That bank is now charging fees out the whazoo for everything. If you use your debit card...fee. If your balance drops lower than $10,000...fee. If the wind blows east and you live out west...fee. Well, not really but I'm waiting for that one next. I so loved this bank because it wasn't like Wells Fargo and Bank of America with their fee mania happenings.

Hey, I get it, the banks are owned by stockholders and heaven forbid the stock holders not get their $3 dividends. But seriously WHY do American institutions insist on squashing the already dwindling middle class with their constant financial restraints. Not only did these banks get billions from the government to bail them out, but now they're charging more and more fees. I'm not a stockholder, I'm just a regular person with some money in the bank and a retirement account that more than likely won't be large enough for me to actually retire on before the age of 85. I don't want $3 dividends, especially when stocks fluctuate the way they do, I want money that I can count on NOW, not maybe sorta hopefully when I decide to turn my stock in.

Credit unions don't charge fees. Ya know why? Credit unions are owned by the bank members. They're for the people because they're run by the people, NOT the stockholders. There's some trade off there. Banks typically have branches everywhere, ATM's everywhere and they're beyond convenient. Credit unions are smaller, typically not nationwide, and have fewer ATM's. Credit unions don't have fees for their checking and savings accounts, their interest rates are lower on loans, and higher on your checking and savings accounts. So, do I want to pay $50 a year for a checking account, plus $4 a month every time I use my debit card, make the rich stockholders richer, and have easy access to my money in every state; or do I want to get to my money whenever I want in my state only, not be charged fees every time I turn around, actually make money off my bank account and know that I have some say in how the credit union runs?

To me the choice is obvious, I'm switching to a credit union. Why stay with something when there are better options elsewhere? Maybe I'm still bitter about the Wells Fargo fiasco a few years ago, but it just seems like we're being taken advantage of. The average American is struggling while the rich get richer. I'm tired of working hard and HOPING that I won't be a Walmart greeter at 85, or HOPING that I might be able to pay for a year or two of Tyler's college. The middle class is dwindling people and it's because we put up with it. Switching financial institutions isn't a big deal, but we gotta put our foot down somewhere.

Dear Fashion Designers

2011-10-04T19:41:00.002-05:00

Dear Fashion Designers,

How do you people come up with this stuff? I mean seriously, mustard is the new hot fall color. No one looks good in that color, it doesn't matter if you're red or yellow, black or white, mustard is no bueno.

Bulky sweaters, gauze skirts, maxi dresses, dear god, why? Why do you hate us? Or do you guys think up the most hideous crap from past era's just to see if we'll all follow what you say and wear this mess?

Do people really buy this stuff? Even the models don't look good in this stuff, and these women have stick figure bodies so that they can make anything look good! Why is it so hard to find practical fashion? Probably because practical and fashion don't go together. Kinda like practical heels, puh-lease.

Remember when the show, "What Not To Wear", used to show the crazy ladies who went out of their houses wearing camo gear, slippers, and curlers in their hair? The best accessory for that outfit is a shotgun. Now they're showing women who go out of their houses in jeans and a T-shirt. What the hell is wrong with jeans and a T-shirt? Since when did wearing jeans and T-shirt to Walmart become a fashion no-no? Who the hell are these women trying to impress at Walmart? I just saw a lady at Walmart wearing camo and bedroom slippers, my jeans and T-shirt look pretty damn good!

Seriously, what working woman, or mom or both has the time to dress up in a super cute outfit, heels, full make-up, their hair in long bouncy curls just to do errands? Even if they did start out that way, by the time they got to the grocery store they more than likely had spit up on them, a cell phone glued to their ear handling some work crisis, and are limping from carrying a kid, a diaper bag and a purse while wearing heels.

We don't need outfits that are dry clean only, or that take a lot of thought in putting it together. We don't want to spend the same amount of money on clothes that we could spend on a trip to Europe. We don't want to buy a whole new wardrobe each season. We just want something simple, cute, affordable, washable, and comfortable!

The Hardest First Day of A Lot of Hard Days

2011-09-07T20:40:00.003-05:00

Today is the first day I start the "Hard Days" list. I haven't had any HARD days. I've had crappy days, I've had lousy days, I've had long days, I've had annoying days, I've had frustrating days, none of which were hard. At least not this hard. Today was the first day back to work, and the first day of daycare. You don't understand how difficult this is until you do it. You're dropping off the most precious thing in your life with someone you don't even know, and trusting that they will take care of that precious being until you pick them up eight hours later.

I cried. My insides ached. Once I got back to work and was busy I was ok, but not 20 minutes went by without thinking of Tyler. I went to see him on my lunch break, he smiled when I picked him up. I was in heaven sitting in the rocking chair with him in my lap. The ladies in the infant room said that he was fussy. Both of them tried calming him down but they said he kept pushing them away and looking around the room. Looking for his mommy. They were finally able to calm him down with the bouncy/vibrating seat. Poor baby. When I picked him up after work he smiled real big when we were leaving.

When I got him home, I laid down on the couch next to him and asked him how his day was. The next 15-20 minutes was full of laughs, giggles, cooing, and patting mommy's cheek. I cried again. I had a grand total of 4.5 hours with him today. I know with time he and I will both be fine. It's an adjustment just like when we first brought him home. Doesn't make it any less hard though. So, this is the first day of one of the hardest days of my life.

Thankful

2011-09-05T22:52:00.003-05:00

It's been awhile since I've done an "I'm Thankful For". I'd say I'm due for one.

I'm thankful for my son. My precious little angel has filled my heart with so much love and happiness I might explode into a cloud of rainbows and fairy dust. I know, totally makes you want to gag but that's the best way I could think of to describe it.

I'm thankful that I'm fertile and able to have children, regardless of how they are brought into this world, whether it be through the birth canal or they're surgically removed.

I'm thankful that I'm a super milk producing powerhouse and can pump out a full bottle of milk in 10 minutes. It's a bummer that Tyler fights with the latch issue, but I'm grateful that my milk supply is up. AND I'm thankful for breast pumps. Without those bad boys I'd be hurting, literally.

I'm thankful for my job. Yes, it makes me sad and I cry thinking that I'm going back to work on Wednesday and I'll be without my little buggaboo for 8 hours, but there are a lot of people out there without a job and I'm thankful I'm not in that position.

Two Months

2011-08-28T22:22:00.003-05:00

Tyler turned two months old yesterday. It's incredible how much I love that little guy. His smile, his laugh, his coos, they light up my entire world. I can't wait to get him in the morning, and I miss him when he's sleeping. I think about him 24/7. The love I have for that tiny little person is consuming, overpowering and I'm in awe over it.

I feel so lucky that God gave us him. I wonder how I could possibly deserve such a precious baby boy. He has his fussy moments, but all in all he's a very happy, easy baby, and I'm so thankful and blessed. He truly enriches my life and makes me wonder what the heck I was doing with my life before Tyler came about.

He's becoming more aware of what's around him. No longer is he content hanging out with Mommy on the couch, he wants to sit up or be carried around so he can check everything out. He's working on rolling over. He almost gets on his belly but his arm gets in the way so he grunts while he tries to roll over the rest of the way. It's adorable. I love him so much and I can't wait to see what he'll discover tomorrow.

Perfection and What I've Learned

2011-08-24T21:19:00.003-05:00

I've always been a perfectionist. My entire life has been full of overachieving moments meant to impress my family, friends and strangers with the one hope that someday I would be accepted. It wasn't until about a year ago that I realized that I was accepted by everyone but myself. I looked in the mirror and all I saw was someone who could do more, do better and do it more efficiently if that person would just try harder. I looked down on myself, and berated myself with what I hadn't accomplished in my life as of yet. I brought the whole, you're your own worst enemy thing to a whole other level. For the longest time I blamed my father and his verbal attacks for my need to overachieve and perfectionism. You know, eventually you have to come to terms with the fact that YOU control you. Yes you may have had a few rough spots as a kid, but who hasn't and eventually you need to suck it up and stop blaming everyone, anyone for your issues that you continue to grow within yourself.

I have always been a firm believer that if you sacrifice enough and try hard enough you can have anything you want. You would think that with the house in Virginia being foreclosed on and all Ryan and I went through to avoid that mess I would have learned that lesson awhile ago. I didn't. I learned that lesson after Tyler was born. I did everything right. I followed everything the doctor said to a T. I only gained 26 pounds, I ate the diet of a saint, I used stretch mark cream everyday, I took birthing classes and read books, I prepared myself with so much knowledge I could be an OB/GYN (well not really, but you get what I'm saying). I sacrificed cookies and tried as hard as I could to prepare to have a natural birthing experience, be able to successfully breastfeed my son, and look like I was never pregnant to begin with. None of that crap happened. I ended up with an emergency C-section, I pump every 4 hours so my son can have breast milk and the front of my belly is covered in stretch marks.

It doesn't really matter how bad you want something, or how much you sacrifice, or how hard you try for something; some things are out of your hands. Some things are just left up to chance. It doesn't really matter how badly I want to leave Louisiana, it doesn't matter how many resumes I send out, or how many job contacts I have, how much experience I have or whether I graduated college with honors or not, some things just come down to chance. Doing certain things might help your odds at whatever it is you want, but in the end it really just comes down to chance.

Then I had an epiphany, so if some things come down to pure luck, why am I beating myself up if certain things don't happen? Maybe I need to just let go and enjoy life instead of trying to conquer it every second of the day...

Summer? What Summer?

2011-08-23T14:37:00.001-05:00

I can't believe we're almost through August. Where the heck did the summer go? If it wasn't for Louisiana's blazing summer humidity I would wonder if we even had summer. Tyler will be two months this week. The last eight weeks have gone by surprisingly fast. I thought for sure those sleepless nights and sounds of a wailing baby would make the days feel like they were so slow I would swear they were going backwards. The first month all the days ran together, and some days seemed longer than others, but for the most part it has flown by.

I go back to work after Labor Day. It's bittersweet. I miss my career, I miss being busy and having things to do during the day other than wash bottles, change diapers, and call the insurance company AGAIN about screwing up the health claim for my C-section. I really like working, so I'm happy to be going back to work; on the other hand I really wish I could be with my son. Even though I have full confidence in the daycare we chose, I know I'm going to have a hard time leaving him during the day. I'm going to miss him a lot and wonder what I'm missing. Every day he discovers something new, what will he discover at daycare that I'll be missing out on?

I want the best of both worlds, my career and being with my son. Rarely is there a workplace that allows you to bring your kids or allows you to work from home so you can stay home with your kids. I've thought of starting up my own financial consulting business but that makes my head hurt just writing the business plan. Never have I dreamed of running my own business and even though that more than likely will be the only way I can still have my career and stay home, it's still not something I dream of. The stress involved with that kind of endeavor will turn me from happy mommy/career woman into raging-monster-who-once-resembled-a-human-being. It's better for everyone if I keep home and career separate, lest I be devoured by the black hole that would be running my own business.

The next four months are going to be so exciting, not only will Tyler be growing and discovering things by leaps and bounds but the next four months are the holidays! We'll see family, have his first visit to the pumpkin patch, first Halloween, first Thanksgiving (AND he'll be trying new foods by then) and his first Christmas! The last two months have zoomed by and we've had one holiday and I haven't been working. I can only imagine how fast the next four months will go.

Books, Advice and Why It's All a Bunch of Horse Crap

2011-08-04T00:00:00.001-05:00

There's an entire section of baby/parenting books in any bookstore or library you visit. Books on how to raise boys, books on how to raise "difficult" children, or children with special needs, books on baby sign language, and breastfeeding. Books on bottle-feeding, books on how to prepare for a newborn, books on baby products. It's truly endless. Any problem you have there is a book on it. When I was pregnant I read a few books. I tried not to bombard myself with tons of theories, ideas, and tips. I asked around and only read the few books recommended by friends. I have to say that each book I read contradicted itself somewhere in between its covers and every book says something different.

One specific breastfeeding book said to avoid eating dairy because it can cause issues in infants, and later on in the book it said to eat yogurt everyday to avoid nipple infections. Another book said not to leave a crying baby, that they will feel abandoned and unloved; later on in the book it said that it was totally ok to walk away from a screaming baby if you need a break.

After feeling overwhelmed, frustrated and completely confused, my sister-in-law gave me the best advice. She said that every baby was different so it's best to pick and choose what works for YOU out of each book. What works for you may not work for me, and vice versa. Every baby is different, every mom is different. You have to discover what works for you and your lifestyle.

There will always be people there to judge. Just like when you're engaged or a newlywed, people love to stick their nose in your business and "comment" when you have kids. I was told that I shouldn't feed Tyler every three hours, that I should wait for him to tell me he's hungry. My response, "He does tell me...every three hours."

Breastfeeding

2011-07-28T14:04:00.002-05:00

People say breastfeeding is natural. I know someone that even said that breastfeeding shouldn't take any longer than a week to master because the baby is born with the sucking reflex and the will to survive and all women have boobs that produce milk after delivery. Really? Of course it was a man that said this. Yes, women were designed to breastfeed and yes, babies were born knowing how to suck, but that doesn't by any means mean that it's easy or comes naturally. If it was easy everyone would do it, and I know just as many women who stopped breastfeeding before their kid was a year as women who made it the entire year. There are lactation consultants, breastfeeding support groups, classes, and about a billion websites and books; if it's so natural then why are there so many resources to help people who are having trouble?

I love how all the books offer such practical solutions to breastfeeding problems. One book said that if your baby bites, put the baby down and come back 20-30 minutes later. So after ignoring baby's screams for 1/2 an hour, I'm supposed to come back and try again when he's even more hungry, ravenous, frustrated, and now resembles a barracuda? That sounds like a fantastic idea. One website said that if your baby is distracted and won't eat regularly during the day, do frequent feedings at night. Ok, so what the hell is the working mom supposed to do? Work all day and stay up all night with the kid to breastfeed him because he's distracted easily? What about the mom who has other kids? She's supposed to take care of her other kids all day and stay up nursing the baby all night? That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.

Lactation consultants are even hit or miss. Just about every woman I've talked to that saw a lactation consultant was told that her nipples were flat. Well, let's think about this. I've never breastfed before, so obviously I've never had a human being sucking so hard on my nipples it would cause them to protrude outward and stay that way. Obviously my nipples are going to be "flat". The lactation consultant I saw at the hospital told me to just give up breastfeeding Tyler until my milk comes in, and then try again. In the meantime I would need to supplement with formula and bottles cause nipple confusion and a poor latch later. Awesome advice. Another consultant I spoke to on the phone said that I should never use a bottle even if Tyler won't nurse. Soooo, after trying to nurse for 30+ minutes I'm supposed to look at him and say tough noogies no milk for you? Another lady told me to never use pacifiers in the first month, that it causes nipple confusion. Ok, so if sucking is a natural thing for babies to do and it's also how they soothe themselves, what am I supposed to do if he wants to suck? Let him use my boob as a paci? Not only do I already feel chained to my son every three hours but let's let him suck so that my nipples aren't just sore but now raw. So much for the whole self-soothing thing. Seriously, no wonder there's such a thing as baby blues.

I totally see why so many women give up on the breastfeeding. Not only are we dealing with some sort of birthing recovery-whether that be through C-section or vaginal, but we're up with a fussy baby, we feel like all we do is try to calm our kid down, change diapers and feed him, and now we have sore nipples, trying to make sure our baby is latched on correctly and getting enough milk and we do this every 2-4 hours. The demands on a new mom are high, add breastfeeding to that and it increases 10-fold.

All the books and advice seem to make sense until you have your newborn. I remember reading the books and thinking, "Ok, that makes sense. That's logical." Logical and babies doesn't always mix. No one tells you that it can take breastfeeding an hour or more, and by the time you finish breastfeeding for that hour, you have about 20-30 minutes before your newborn wants to nurse again. No one tells you that, they just say to nurse for 10 minutes on each side. Then there's the people that say don't time it, just go with the flow, but make sure you swap sides. Well, if my kid actually latches on well, isn't biting me and is swallowing I'm not moving him until he unlatches himself. It's not worth unlatching him to try to get him to latch onto the other side. After about 45 minutes of trying to get him to re-latch, both you and the kid will be covered in milk, very little of which will have gotten in the kids mouth, you're now low on milk and the kid is still hungry. That, my friends, is reality, not this illusion of your baby gazing into your eyes as she gently and happily suckles at your breast. She might do that later, but it's highly unlikely in the first month.

I'm shocked at the lack of support I've gotten on breastfeeding. I'm not talking about my family or friends, they have been the only support I've gotten. La Leche won't return my phone calls or emails, which isn't completely uncommon for the South, but I thought for sure after leaving two voicemails and emailing three people I would hear from someone. The lactation consultants at the hospital weren't exactly helpful, unless of course I was willing to come in and pay them $90/hr. to watch me nurse Tyler and attempt to diagnose his latch issues. He's having the same problems now that he was at the hospital, if you couldn't help me then why would I think you could help me now? Apparently for $90/hr. they MIGHT have other ideas they didn't tell me about when their services were free. An older lady I talked to had a few ideas but other than that she too told me that not all babies can latch and nurse, and it sounded like Tyler was one of those babies.

*Sigh* So right now I'm pumping. The pediatrician, the consultants and the research I've done have all said that exclusively pumping is possible, you just have to be disciplined. Marina even emailed me tips from a girl she knows who exclusively pumped for her twins for almost a year. It's all supply and demand. If your body thinks your baby needs it, it will continue to produce it. Whether the kid is taking it out or a machine is, your body doesn't know, it just knows it's being drained every three hours and needs to produce more.

Every time Tyler eats I have to pump to maintain my supply. It can be very easy to get distracted and forget, so I've set the alarm on my phone so that I remember to pump when Tyler eats. So far, so good. Being hooked up to a machine instead of my son every three hours isn't exactly how I envisioned this, but neither was my labor and birthing experience; and frankly at least the machine doesn't bite, pumping only takes 15 minutes, I'm not covered in milk afterwards, Tyler is a happier baby and momma isn't stressed out. I plan on doing this as long as I can. I was planning on pumping when I went back to work anyways, I'll just have to pump at night and on the weekends too, no big deal. My son is getting the breast milk and that's the most important part.

Part 2

2011-07-19T17:33:00.003-05:00

The next day after the delivery/surgery I noticed the stretch marks on my belly were raised and fire red. I also noticed what looked like a small patch of hives on the inside of my arm. When I asked my doctor about the mess on my belly she grimly looked at me and said, "That, my dear, is PUPPP." What in God's name is PUPPP?? Well, it's a pregnancy induced rash that stems from a mass of stretch marks. I was stretchmark-less until week 38/39, at that time Tyler grew by leaps and bounds and caused my belly to stretch to astronomical proportions. Apparently, if your belly does this to the degree that mine did there's the potential for your body to go into "shock" cause a rash. PUPPP is not common, and typically it flares up right after you give birth and disappears a day or two later. My doc said that if it starts itching to use hydrocortisone cream on it.

Over the next few days I noticed that my belly stayed the same but the hive like things on my arms were spreading. About a week after I delivered Tyler the hives were covering my arms, legs, bottom, and back, and it was continuing to spread. I was using a bottle of cortisone cream a day beacuse the hives itched so bad. Imagine trying to take care of a newborn, trying to get this whole breastfeeding thing down and being so itchy that scraping steel wool across your skin seemed like a good idea. I originally thought that it was the pain meds they gave me when I left the hospital, so I cut those out after two days, and started taking Benadryl for the itching. The hives continued to spread. I kept track of what I ate, drank, I couldn't pinpoint what the heck was causing the hives to continue to spread.

July 3rd, I came into the living room crying, the hives had spread to yet another part of my body. I had no idea what this was, or if I was putting my husband or son in danger of catching whatever it was that I had. We went to the ER, they admitted me immediately. I saw a total of five doctors and one pediatrician. Not one of them knew what it was. I was told that they were going to have to take skin biopsy's, that what I could have was auto-immune and my body was on self-destruct mode, that Ryan could break out with it at any time and Tyler was also at risk and because he was a newborn it was severly dangerous. They told me they couldn't let me leave due to the safety of others, they couldn't have me spreading what I had. I understood, but I can't say that I wasn't happy about it.

I had just had a less than happy experience at one hospital, my baby's and husband's health was at risk because of me. The last doctor I saw was the only one that made any sense. He said that he had no idea what this was, but it was unlikely Ryan or Tyler would catch it because they would have already. He was calling in one of the dermatologists that work with the hospital but I did need to stay the night.

Ryan ran home to get a few things, while I was brought up to my room. The nursing staff at this hospital was like night and day from the other hospital. They were nice, kind, and truly cared about my comfort. I was so impressed. The next morning I was wakened by a doctor rushing in and opening all the miniblinds and turning on all the lights. He looked at me and said, "I'm the dermatologist." I sat up and said, "Oh thank GOD, I hope you can help me!" He looked at me and said, "You have PUPPP. An extremely severe case of PUPPP. Take these meds and come to my office on Thursday. Have a good 4th of July."

About an hour later I was discharged with a prescription for a topical steriod cream and steriod pills and specific instructions not to breastfeed while on the pills. One of the side effects of a C-section is that your milk comes in later than if you vaginally deliver. Mine came in almost an entire week later than it should have. Tyler was ready to start nursing, not just colostrum but actual milk and I had none to give him. So we had to supplement with formula. I was crushed. I so looked forward to being able to breastfeed my baby. We struggled a little at the hospital, but I was determined to make it work. We went about a week on the formula before my milk came in, and as soon as it came I started breastfeeding right away. We struggled some more but had finally got most of the kinks out when they told me I couldn't breastfeed on the meds. I asked the dermatologist what would happen if I went without the meds. He said that eventually the PUPPP would clear up but it would take several months (6 or more) and the itching would continue. I was so miserable and desperate for the itching to stop that I took the meds. For another week, while on the steriods we supplemented with formula. Concern about nipple confusion was a main concern, but we were able to overcome the formula issue before, we could do it again.

The forumla we used messed up Tyler's tummy so bad. He screamed for almost an hour straight everyday because he was in pain. The amount of gas he had was similar to what you would imagine would come out of a grown man. My poor baby. I saw the doc again that Thursday and my skin was cleared up quite a bit. The doc said I could breastfeed as soon as I finished the meds, which would be on Sunday. He did say that there was a slight chance that once I got off the steriods the rash might come back. If it does he said to call him and he'd set me up with more steriods and I'd have to stop breastfeeding again.

One day after I stopped the steriods the rash came back, ONE day. It wasn't nearly as bad as it was, just a few spots here and there, but I couldn't put Tyler back on forumla, so when I saw my OB, she set me up with some creams so that I could continue breastfeeding. My skin is almost cleared up, three weeks later. Because of all our issues and having to give him a bottle so much, breastfeeding has been a challenge. I'm sore A LOT. Tyler fights it sometimes, sometimes his latch is great, sometimes it's not. He bites. It's very frustrating and emotionally exhausting. I cry a lot and when feeding time comes around again, I dread it. It sucks. This is not at all how I envisioned anything from the time my water broke until now. I feel like everything has been a struggle, and I haven't enjoyed my son much at all.

Everyone tells me that it gets better around month three. My fingers are crossed.

Chapter 6-Mommyhood and Tyler's Birth Story Part 1

2011-07-15T10:38:00.014-05:00

You think you know what to expect. You think since you've read tons of books, subscribed to all the magazines, researched the internet, and are the last one of your friends to have kids and listened and took note of all their troubles, hiccups, bumps in the road, and victories that you MIGHT have an inkling of what you're doing. Well, you don't. At least I didn't. I guess I thought that since I had such an easy pregnancy that my delivery would be easy and Tyler would be an easy baby. I shouldn't have assumed.

Tyler was born June 27th; it was the best worst day of my life. My parents and my sister Lauren had been down for several days waiting for Tyler to make his arrival. As most first time mom's are I was past my due date. I was uncomfortable, irritable and getting impatient. I loved being pregnant, but when you're almost 41 weeks pregnant, huge, uncomfortable, and can feel your skin tearing and stretching, it doesn't matter how much you loved being pregnant you're just ready to be done with the whole process. My dad had to fly back Sunday morning to be ready for work on Monday, Sunday night my water broke. My dad has yet to meet his grandson, it's a total bummer. This picture was taken about 15 minutes before my water broke.

That whole, "Only 1% of women's water breaks on their own before contractions, so don't worry about it because it won't happen to you" is a bunch of bullshit. AND that whole, "If you are one of the 1% it's highly unlikely it will break if you are sitting or standing" is also a bunch of bullshit. I was in the car on the way to Walmart, I bent down to get my purse and it felt like a water balloon inside me burst. I was told that the bag of waters is maybe as much as a half pitcher of water. That person either doesn't remember or had an epidural when her water broke because it was enough water to fill about 7 or 8 pitchers of water, at least. It was ridiculous.

I had read books on labor, talked to women about the labor, took birthing classes the whole shabang, so when I started feeling cramping I had no idea those were contractions. I was told that contractions were in the front, they start at the top of the uterus and work their way down and it would feel like my belly was tightening. I didn't feel that at all. I felt menstrual cramps in my lower back. I figured it was normal, but wasn't contractions, so I took a nap, hung out, played cards and waited for the contractions to start. I figured they would start in an hour or so. Five hours later I was still only feeling some minor back pain. I called my doctor's office and spoke to the nurse on call who told me to get my ass to the hospital. After we got to the hospital and got checked out I was told that I was 3cm dilated and the back cramping I was feeling was back labor. I looked at Ryan and said, "That's not good, we need to get this baby turned around." Back labor occurs when the baby's head is positioned backwards. The baby will eventually turn, but back labor is extremely painful and my plan was to do this whole birthing thing with no meds.

Another concern I had was that I was already five hours into labor and only 3cm dilated. I was also GBS positive which meant that I was at a higher risk of infection and had to have the baby within 24 hours of my water breaking. The race against the clock began. Once I got in my room, got the Penicillin to counteract being GBS positive I started walking. The contractions started to pick up, and walking was the only thing that I could do to handle the pain. Laying in bed wasn't an option, sitting wasn't an option, not even on the stability ball. I tried various positions recommended for back labor, nothing helped but walking.

Around 6am my doc came in to check me. At this point I was about 12 hours into labor and no matter what position I tried and how much walking I did I was still having back labor. Back labor is excruciating. I have never felt pain like that. Pain that can take your breath away and make you wish that you would die. The contractions were about two minutes or less apart at that point, which is barely enough time to catch your breath before the next one hits. To be checked for dilation you have to get back in bed, I almost cried; not because the doc was hurting me but because laying on my back during a contraction was that painful. I was almost 6cm, and Tyler's head wasn't fully engaged in my pelvis. Red light. Tyler's not ready, I'm only at 6, and I've been in labor for 12 hours. My mind raced, why was it taking so long for me to dilate. I haven't had any meds, my body should be dilating quicker than this, especially since my water is already broken.

My doc said that it could be that I was in so much pain my body wasn't able to relax enough to dilate faster, and since Tyler's head was slightly swollen that was a concern. I didn't want meds, but at that point I was struggling with the pain a bit and swelling on the baby's head could be a beginning sign of distress. I opted for a small dose of Staydol. Basically it made me sleep. I could still feel the contractions but it felt like I had a little too much liquor, woozie feeling, and it lasted about 45 minutes. I crossed my fingers that the drug helped. It did but not enough, it brought me close to 7cm, and when the drugs wore off I could still feel I was having back labor. I didn't have one contraction in the front, not one, I felt all of it in my back. I was not going to give up on having Tyler naturally. So out of the bed I was and back to walking.

My doc came back after a few hours to check me again. At that point I had been in labor for 16 hours, all of it back labor, and 15 hours of it was without meds. I had been up for more than 24 hours. I was exhausted. I remember looking at Ryan, gasping after a contraction and saying, "I don't know how much longer I can go without some sort of pain relief." My sister looked at me and told me how proud she was of me for handling all of this so well, and with no pregnancy turrets. At that point I had no idea how long we had been at the hospital. I had no idea what time it was, or that it was Monday afternoon, or that I hadn't eaten in over 20 hours, or slept in over 24 hours. When my mom told me how long it had been, I started getting worried. Natural labor shouldn't take this long, surely something was wrong.

My doctor suggested an epidural and Pitocin. I shook my head, not able to speak because I was in the middle of a contraction. She pointed out that the Staydol did help me dilate but it wasn't strong enough or lasted long enough to make me fully dilated. I wasn't dilating on my own, I was still at 7cm, and when you hit 4cm and going natural you should be dilating a cm an hour, I had stopped completely, it had been a few hours, Tyler's head swelling was worse, and he still wasn't where he should be on my pelvis, which would explain why I had stopped dilating, and why it was taking so long to dilate in the first place. My doctor was 100% right, I wasn't dilating on my own, and Tyler's safety needed to be my main concern. I reluctantly nodded for the epidural and Pitocin.

At that point I might as well have tossed my birth plan out the window. Goodbye to privacy, goodbye to natural delivery. I felt so defeated. I did everything I could to get Tyler turned around so I wasn't having back labor. Maybe if I could have gotten him turned around I could have handled the pain better and maybe my body would have been able to relax and dilate more. I had no idea if that was the reason I wasn't dilating or if it was because Tyler wasn't descending like he should have been, or a combination of both. They made my mom, sister and Ryan leave the room while I got the epidural. I hated it, not because it was painful but because for me it was like I was giving up, I had failed at having a natural delivery. Even though I was giving up for Tyler's safety, I was still giving up and I felt like I could still fight it.

For whatever reason after I had the epidural the nurses completely forgot my requests for privacy. They "forgot" that I had requested minimal pelvic exams, they "forgot" that I didn't want to be just laid out exposed, even if it was just them and my family in the room. It's like they "forgot" I was a person with feelings. A person who was already upset at how her labor was going, a person who had been in labor for many many hours, a person who was just in pain for 16 of those many hours. Being numb from the waist down I couldn't even close my own legs after the exam, there were times that my family would cover me up because the nurses would just leave me there exposed while they typed away on their computers. It was awful. I felt helpless. I will never deliver at that hospital again. I love my doctor, but I'll have to come up with something else if I get pregnant here again, because the nurses were awful. I guess doing this stuff everyday desensitises them. That's the only reason I can think of as to why they would treat people like they did.

I was only on the Pitocin for about 15 minutes when the nurse assigned to me came in and started rolling me around in the bed. Again, I was completely numb so I couldn't even get up and move myself. I cannot begin to describe how awful it is knowing that you are 100% dependent on this random person that you don't even know. She said Tyler's heart rate dropped slightly and it could be a number of things. She got me on my side and his heart rate went back up. About 10 minutes later the monitor started beeping, and six nurses came rushing into the room. No one said a word to me, two of them started turning me, one started putting a catheter in, none of which were my regular nurse assigned to me. I finally yelled out, "What the hell, would someone tell me what the fuck is going on?!?! I'm a fucking person!" The older nurse looked at me shocked, like how dare I question her, and said, the baby's heart rate is dangerously low, he could be having a reaction to the Pitocin. My nurse finally came running in and said that they were putting in an internal catheter to track my contractions internally, a regular catheter in case they have to do a C-section (WHAT!) and they were turning the Pitocin off and calling my doctor.

The older nurse said they were going to put a transmitter on Tyler. I looked at my nurse. A transmitter is a wire they actually screw into the babies head to track his heart rate. I specifically put on my birth plan that I did NOT want that. The staff already knew his heart rate was low, screwing a wire into my unborn child's head was not going to fix the problem it was only going to tell them what they already knew. The first time all day my nurse treated me like a person. She grabbed the older nurses hand and said, "No, she doesn't want that." The older nurse said, "Too bad, it's not about what she wants, it's about the baby's safety." My nurse told her that they both knew his heart rate was already dangerously low and putting the transmitter on him wouldn't resolve the problem. The older nurse scowled at me and went back to rolling me around the bed. They finally got Tyler's heart rate back to normal.

My doc walked in and I burst into tears. She checked me, I was still 7cm, Tyler's swelling was worse and he still wasn't descending into my pelvis. She explained that my options were to try the Pitocin again but there was a very good chance that Tyler would react badly to it and if he did I would be wheeled in for a C-section, or I can opt for a C-section now. So basically, I can knowingly put my child in danger, or get him out of there now. Did I even have a choice? Putting my son in danger wasn't an option. I looked at her and said, "Those are options?" She held my hand and said, "I know this isn't what you wanted, I did not want to have to come in here and tell you any of this, but that is where we stand." I nodded and signed the sheet for the C-section. Again more nurses, more exposure, more defeat, more tears.

I was asked if I wanted drugs, even though I had on my birth plan NOT to ask me if I wanted drugs. I was petrified and worried. The reality that I was not going to be able to birth my son not only naturally but not vaginally was hitting me. I was not going to be the first one to hold my son, or the second or the third, I was not going to be able to nurse him right away, I was not going to be able to see him being born. The entire birthing experience I had been dreaming of was being ripped away from me and I had no idea why. Was this my fault? My body was the one who wouldn't dilate. I couldn't blame it on the drugs, my body stopped dilating before the drugs were even administered. I nodded yes to the nurse and closed my eyes.

I remember being wheeled down the hall. I remember being put on the table and Ryan and my mom sitting next to me. I remember hearing my doctor's voice. I remember nurses asking me what seemed like every 10 minutes if I wanted more drugs. I was so scared, they said the drugs would calm me down, so I said yes. I should have said no. The entire surgery is a haze. I remember feeling tugging and pulling, I remember hearing the herd of nurses in the room all talking at once and wanting to scream out, "SHUT UP!", but not being able to form words. I remember shaking, and being told that that was normal and everything was fine. I remember looking at Ryan and him smiling at me and telling me he loved me. I remember crying, a lot. I remember looking at my mom, tears streaming down my face saying, "This isn't what I wanted." I remember my doctor saying, "I've almost got him, you're going to feel pressure." I remember seeing the look on my mom's face when my doctor pulled Tyler out. I remember thinking, "Someone PLEASE let me see my son, please", but not being able to form words. I remember seeing the nurse walk to the corner of the room with Tyler and Ryan looking back and forth from me to Tyler. I had to focus to tell him to stay with our son. I remember the nurse yelling out "9lbs. 4 oz.". I remember thinking "Jesus Christ, no wonder my belly is covered in stretch marks." I remember seeing Ryan hold our son for the first time and him beaming with pride.

I don't remember much after that. I don't remember being sewn up. I don't remember being wheeled back to the room. I remember nurses all over me and me telling one of them to get off me I've had enough. I remember looking over and seeing Tyler laying in the bassinet. I remember holding him for the first time and thinking he was perfect. I remember Ryan telling me he loved me. I remember my sister telling me she loved her nephew. I remember Ginger coming to see me, but I have no idea if we spoke. I don't know how I got to my room, but I remember Ryan and Tyler were already there. I don't remember the first night other than I said I wanted Tyler with us, not in the nursery.

Later on I found out that Tyler was crammed in my belly so tight that my 5'11" doctor asked for a stool so that she could have more leverage to get him out. I found out that both my doctor and the assisting doctor struggled to get him out because he was so crammed in there and my doc didn't want to cut across my entire belly. My doc was thoughtful enough to make the incision as small as possible, and as low as possible so that if I wanted I could try to have a vaginal delivery with my second child.

Recovery at the hospital was exactly like after I had the epidural. No privacy, I was treated like a thing not a person. My feelings, my privacy, and my comfort were not taken into consideration. I was told by lactation that I should just give up nursing until after my milk comes in and even then I would struggle, but she wishes me the best. Every hour there was someone in our room doing something, taking out the trash, changing the sheets, taking mine and Tyler's vitals. I finally went ape shit and was told that I could have put a sign on the door asking to be left alone for a bit. I wasn't told that until our last day at the hospital. How considerate of them to let me know hours before we were discharged. I was discharged after two days, but not before I was told by one of the nurses that discharge after two days with a C-section was unheard of and I would regret it. I looked at the nurse and said, "This is for YOUR safety sweetheart." Discharge took forever because they "forgot" to take Tyler's IV out. I waited for the questionnaire lady to make her rounds to my room, she never came, big surprise.

I always hated hospitals and my birthing experience reminded me of why. Not because I had to have major surgery, or because of anything my doctor did, she actually was wonderful during the entire process, but because the nursing staff was just plain terrible. Yes they did their job, but as a nurse I would think you would need to have compassion and be sensitive to people, there was one nurse that was like that. She was in her young 20's, and was part of the nursery. She was really great. She's young though, I'm sure in a few years she'll end up just like all the other nurses we saw.

My water broke at 5:45pm June 26th, Tyler was born June 27th at 4:35pm. I look at my C-section scar as a badge of honor. It's a reminder of what I went through to try to give me and my son the best birthing experience I could. I don't regret my decision to attempt non-medicated birth. I don't regret getting the meds, at the time it was the best option I had to try to get my body to dilate. I don't regret the C-section I had no other option. My doctor said that she had no idea Tyler was so big, she guessed around 8lbs., not 9. Other than his cheeks, he's not a chuncky baby, I have no idea where he puts it! I'm glad my doctor was considerate enough to make my incision low so that I could attempt VBAC with my second child. Looking back, there was no way I was going to be able to vaginally deliver a 9lb. baby. Tyler had swelling on his head from trying to push through my pelvis which is just too small for a 9lb. baby, because he wasn't able to descend he wasn't able to put pressure on my cervix which prevented me from dilating any further. My doc thinks that if my next kid is average size I'll probably have no trouble.

Recovery from a C-section hasn't been too bad. Some pain the first few days. You don't realize you use your abs as much as you do until someone has to cut through them. Sneezing, coughing, getting out of bed, walking, all of that had to be done very carefully otherwise the burning would set in. While at the hospital I noticed what looked like hives on my arm, and the stretch marks on my belly were raised and enflammed. On my arm was a small patch and when I asked the nurses they said it was more than likely a reaction to one of the billion drugs I had taken. When I asked my doctor she said she didn't know about the hives on my arm but the mass of what we thought were stretch marks on my belly was actually PUPPP, a pregnancy induced rash, and that it would go away in a few days. What ended up being something minor put me in the ER overnight. More to come...

Week 38-Can I Just Meet My Son Already???

2011-06-08T07:20:00.003-05:00

Seriously, now I know why women ask to be induced early. Not that I have any intention of doing that, but I totally get it now.

I've really enjoyed pregnancy. Month eight started to get slightly cumbersome with my growing belly, lack of energy, and rib pain, but for the most part I still enjoyed sharing my body with my son. I'm two weeks shy of 10 months and I've hit my limit. I'm humongous, like a small planet humongous, like some of my maternity clothes don't even fit me anymore humongous. I'm exhausted, A LOT. I'm up about every two hours either having to change sleeping positions or using the bathroom. I can't go anywhere, not even to the gas station without having to use the restroom; and I'm sure we've all seen public restrooms. Most people hold it until they can get to an isolated area and pee on a tree; not an option when you have a baby pressing on your bladder.

I've gained a total of 23 pounds (recommended weight gain is between 25-35), drink 64-100oz. of water a day, and marinade in stretch mark cream and oil. Up until Sunday I was able to avoid those awful red lines. The bastards literally appeared overnight, and they're not even anywhere concealable, they're right there by my belly button, front and center. That just goes to prove that you can do everything exactly how you're supposed to, and you can still end up with stretch marks. Screw you Mother Nature! You and Father Time have always been my nemesis'! Now before you roll your eyes and tell me that stretch marks fade, I'd like to say that I know that; however the word "fade" and the phrase "go away" are very different and although they will fade those stretch marks are scars I'll have for the rest of my life. Call me vain, I know it's true, but I have to live in this body for the rest of my life I don't want it all scared up.

On a happier note, Tyler is dropping. My ribs no longer hurt, and I can feel somewhat consistent pressure on my hips. There's a few other signs that birth is looming near, but I'll spare you the gory details. My doc says he's about six pounds now and he'll be between seven and eight pounds when he's born. That, of course, is just her estimate based on how I'm measuring. She feels he'll come pretty close to his due date, so I've got about another two weeks to go. I have a feeling these next two weeks will be the longest EVER. Here I was thinking that it would be best for me to get everything done by week 36 just in case Tyler came early, and if he didn't I would have an entire month to relax. I should have saved some projects to keep myself preoccupied...

Week 34

2011-05-15T09:36:00.000-05:00

I have been extremely MIA. Yes, I'm fine, just busy. My typically excuse for my lack of attendance.

School is done. I have achieved my BS in Business Finance, and I completed it with honors. I feel very relieved to have it done AND before I got in my third trimester. Now, I get to start paying off the student loans...oh goody.

Birth classes have been taken, wills have been written up, life insurance has been purchased, all documents are locked up in the safe, the nursery is pretty much done, baby showers have come and gone, I'm pre-registered with the hospital, Tyler's registered for daycare in September, we have a pediatrician, my doc has my official birth plan, the new house is set up, and my hospital bag is packed. I'd say we're ready.

Oh yeah. We moved. Ya know how people talk about "nesting" right around the third trimester? Usually this "nesting" consists of cleaning and organization. When Ryan's friends told him about "nesting" I think he thought I would do a thorough scrubbing of the baby's room, not wake up one morning and say "Screw this, we're moving." Which is exactly what happened.

For awhile the condo just hasn't worked out well for us. It's right next to LSU's campus, the parking was lousy, we had inconsiderate neighbors all around us, Thor didn't have a yard which was becoming a problem, the office lady was becoming a problem, Ryan wasn't getting his work packages on time. It was literally one thing after another with that place, and it just wasn't working for us anymore. So, I started searching for a house to rent. I figured if I found something, great, if not we were no worse off. Usually I analyze things to death, and want to think things over, especially big decisions like moving. This was not the case. I found the house, called the landlord, and in a week we were moved in. We've been here a month and I couldn't be happier. Not only are we in a better neighborhood, but it's quiet, no more late night parties. Thor has a HUGE fenced in yard, with a deck. No more parking issues, no more office lady issues, no more package delivery issues, it's perfect. Moving in month seven of pregnancy, and we were moved in within a week, how's that for "nesting"?

I'm 34 weeks pregnant. I have had the easiest pregnancy, and I am so thankful for that. I had nausea for about a month in the first trimester, no uncontrollable vomiting or anything like that, just nausea. My ribs started giving me problems around the seventh month. The doc says it's cuz the little one is getting bigger (duh) and stretching/tearing the muscles in between the ribs. It's painful but nothing unmanageable, I just try to get plenty of rest at night and sleep on a heating pad. Recently, like within the last week, I've been so hot, like burning up hot. I wake up every couple of hours sweltering, and I sleep with a fan and the AC is pretty cold. At work I freeze everyone to death, and doing anything outside in the Louisiana heat has become difficult, and we haven't even had the sweltering humidity yet. Thank goodness this heat issue just now started and I haven't had to contend with this the whole 40 weeks. Other than those few things, this pregnancy has been beyond easy.

I thought for sure I would be one of the women who wasn't a fan of pregnancy, and that I would need to see my child before I felt a bond with him. I thought I would whine and complain a lot and count down the days until my due date just because I couldn't wait to not be pregnant. That has not been the case at all. I mean yes, I have had my whiny and complaining moments, every pregnant woman has that, but I've really enjoyed being pregnant. It's been an experience that I feel so blessed and thankful to be able to go through.

I can't believe how much I love this tiny person growing inside me and I haven't even met him yet. I love Ryan, I love my sisters, I love my friends, but I LOVE my son. It's incredible. It's unlike any other feeling I've ever had. I would give up everything I own and take on the worlds worst diseases and criminals to protect him. I didn't think I would feel this way already. I thought it would take time and I would need to build up to it. Let's face it, I'm not exactly the nurturing, motherly type. It amazes me.

My ribs are killing me but I don't mind; I know they hurt because my son is growing strong and healthy. I have really enjoyed pregnancy. Do I want to be pregnant forever? Um, no, there are things about pregnancy that aren't as fun such as tearing of your ribs and having to pee every 20 minutes, but I would do this again in a heartbeat. I can feel him moving around inside my belly and it makes me so happy. I could be having the worst day in the history of days, but as soon as Tyler starts moving I can't help but smile and think about how much I love him. It's crazy the bond I have with him already.

I was so angry in the beginning that men didn't have to go through nausea, and having their body get all warped out of shape, or be exhausted all the time. They also don't get to experience this amazing bond that Tyler and I have. I get it now. This is totally worth it.

Five Months and Sprout's Gender

2011-02-06T11:58:00.005-06:00

Ryan and I have come up with a deal-we find out the gender for the first baby and the second babies gender will be a surprise. That being said, Sprout is a BOY!

We've decided on Tyler Ryan for his name. The 20 week ultrasound went very well, everything is perfect. We couldn't ask for anything better. Week 13 I started to feel movement, but wasn't sure what it was exactly. It happens more often now, like a fish swimming around inside my belly. It's really cool. This entire pregnancy I have been so bitter towards men, that all of this pregnancy/baby stuff is put on us women. I just felt it wasn't fair at all, and I've had an easy pregnancy. How do women with rough pregnancies not hate their men???? Now that I can feel Tyler move around, I feel so blessed to be a woman and be able to feel this life inside of me. It's the coolest thing I've ever experienced, and I feel so blessed that I get to experience it. I hope this continues!

I Apparently Didn't Think This All The Way Through

2011-01-20T22:44:00.004-06:00

I've been MIA lately. I have been busy and every time I go to write a new post my latest and greatest freak-out keeps coming up. I've been deleting the posts and logging out so as to not scare my few and wonderful followers away, but I can no longer ignore this and think maybe if I just explode I'll be done with this and move on.

A few weeks ago I woke up and suddenly it hit me that I would eventually need to give birth and I had no idea what the hell I was doing. I know, I know, I'm not even 1/2 way through, but if you knew me, you'd know that I think WAY ahead of time. NOTHING in my life is done last minute. I had never even seen a birth, not in school, not in real-life, nada. I had no idea what to expect and when I went to research what my options for birth were, I was swarmed with info overload and completely freaked the fuck out. Should I go medicated, non-medicated, partial-medicated, what the hell is partial-medicated, should I avoid certain drugs, should I attempt to do most of the labor at home, will I have my own room, will my doc push meds on me, will she tell me I can't have meds before or after a certain point, what about breastfeeding, what about privacy, if I do get drugs will my kid be ok? That was just the beginning of my head-throbbing woes regarding the birth. For Christ's sake, the birth can only last for so long, yet here I am completely freaking out over it. Parenting lasts for YEARS, yet I haven't freaked out at all over that. Nervous that I might give my poor kid issues that need professional help, yes; but I have yet to freak out over that. It's more of a pressing issue in the back of my brain.

At my last doc appointment I drilled my doc with question after question mostly about my birthing options and meds. I have no idea how I got so lucky with my doc, but she answered all of my questions truthfully and respectfully. I still have no idea what I want to do in regards to meds or not, but I decided to give my brain a rest and take it as it comes. Even if I have a whole plan laid out my body and baby are gonna do what they're gonna do regardless of the plan I come up with.

Now on to the next freak-out and so far the worst. I'm ashamed to say this has brought me to tears. I blame the hormones. I'm not concerned about the pain involved with birth. If it gets unbearable I can ask for meds. I've never given birth before but I can imagine it's pretty awful. I have sustained 3rd degree burns, shoving a nail through my hand, numerous gymnastics and clutzy injuries, black eyes, the list goes on; I imagine giving birth is all those things times 100,000. And I'm probably still way off. Even though I'm thinking all of that, the pain doesn't scare me. I think of pain as mind over matter, but I've never given birth, I might think differently after that experience.

I'm freaking out because A)I do not want to be completely exposed on the bed for the world to see, B)I'll have no privacy, C)birth is disgusting and I'm afraid my husband will be completely grossed out and won't want or love me anymore, D)I'm going to be completely humiliated and embarrassed through all of birth's...issues. I've talked to people who have given birth and they all tell me the same thing-you don't care at the time. Yeah well, that doesn't help me now. After talking to Marina, she told me that I had giving birth all wrong and the medical staff totally respects your privacy and the only one down there is the doc and your husband if he cuts the cord. She suggested I go to babycenter.com and check out the birthing video's. WELL. I apparently choose the wrong video's to watch because both women in those video's were butt naked, spread eagle on the table for the entire medical staff to see. Awesome.

I have even tried reasoning with myself; telling myself that I'm being completely ridiculous, and creating a bigger issue in my head than this really is. Women have been giving birth since the beginning of time. This can't possibly be that big of a deal. When I talk to those who have given birth they either laugh at me (whether this is out of pity, I'll never know), or shrug it off like it's not a big deal(which in reality is making me feel worse, because now I obviously have this horrendous fear of humiliation that apparently no other woman has, or they had it at one point in time but stopped caring, and I have yet to reach that point).

Being publicly embarrassed has always been an issue with me, and here I've trapped myself into THE most embarrassing predicament a woman could ever go through. Real smart Steph, didn't exactly think that one through did ya. I don't even use the bathroom in front of my husband. I just need to go ahead and book a ticket to Sweden, give birth there and come back later. This is insane. What the hell was I thinking?

I'm going to be the whiny pregnant lady and say I don't want to do this. I would rather go to an island alone, give birth, without meds, without any help, and come back than do this in a room packed full of nurses and doctors exposed for everyone to see, during one of the most private and embarrassing times of my life. I don't care if the staff has seen it all. I don't care if they do this everyday. I don't care if I'm being completely irrational. And if another person tells me that I won't care when it comes down to it, they're going to get an ear full of bitching. That being said, I will not mention this again. I'm hoping I just needed to get this off my chest so I can move on and not be completely mortified about this before it even happens.

I Feel So Blessed

2011-01-04T19:51:00.003-06:00

I feel so blessed that I'm 16 weeks pregnant. That I didn't have to go through endless treatments and thousands of dollars for my growing little one. I'm blessed that I haven't had any complications. I'm blessed that the nausea only lasted one month and I only lost my lunch once. I'm blessed that I have Alison who let me borrow all her maternity clothes and I'll only have to buy pants. I'm blessed that my sister-in-law is so willing to let me borrow Kael's stuff.

I'm blessed that I found some great baby things off Craig's List for fractions of the total price. I'm blessed that every time I go to the doctor for a check-up the doc smiles, tells me I'm doing great and says the baby is good to go. I'm blessed that my friend Tiffany always answers her phone when I call her with my countless breastfeeding questions. I'm blessed that my husband finally stopped arguing with me and gave in to my weird antics; like when I asked him to go to the store at 11pm for spaghetti sauce, or when I came home today wanting to rearrange the guest room/nursery-to-be for no apparent reason.

I'm blessed that we were able to save money to be able to afford a child. I'm blessed that my sisters want to buy Sprout presents. I'm blessed that after each weekly email my dad emails me back and tells me he loves me and his grandchild. It can be really easy to get overwhelmed by life and it's circumstances. Sometimes we just need to sit back and look at what we do have.

The Last Ten Years

2010-12-27T10:06:00.000-06:00

2010 is winding down. We’re ending our first decade of the 21st century. 2001-2010, it’s so crazy to think of this decade. Especially for my generation. 2000-2001 we were all graduating high school. That whole decade is our 20’s. We finished high school, maybe went to college, maybe got married, maybe had kids, changed jobs a few times, changed careers a few times. A lot happens in a decade, especially in your 20's.

Enron, 9-11, the war on terror, technology advances, medical advances (did you know they can create bionic appendages now???), the economy recession and housing crisis, the Terminator became the governor of California, and our first black President was voted into office. There have been oil spills, hurricane's, tsunami's, floods destroying Nashville, and fires overtaking half of California. It's crazy to think of all the things the human race has been through in the last decade, and how we as a human race are different because of those things.

What has this decade meant for me as an individual? I graduated high school, I graduated college, I got married, I moved to two different states, I met amazing people, I became a pet owner, I became a home owner, I've seen over half the country, I survived three deployments and am proud to call myself a veteran's wife. I changed careers twice, I changed jobs...a lot, I went back to school, I got tattoo's, I had a foreclosure, and I got pregnant. When you're in those moments it's easy to forget all you've accomplished, all you've learned, or how much you've changed. When you run through the list of the last ten years it's hard not to miss what you've done with your life.

What do you see when you look back over this last decade?

Merry Christmas

2010-12-24T19:24:00.003-06:00

I'm feeling very reminiscent this year. Perhaps it's because I'm growing a child of my own. Perhaps it's because next Christmas will be our babies first Christmas, and the beginning of that tiny person's precious memories. Memory lane glows as I take a trip of my own to my childhood Christmas'.

I grew up in NY state, every year we had snow up to our knees; snowforts, snowball fights, and sledding was a yearly part of our Christmas spirit. I can't imagine growing up without those things. How do the kids in the South do it? No snow? At least not enough to do anything fun with. I guess when you grow up without it, you don't see being without a huge loss.

I remember going to school, snow covered our boots and snow pants. I remember each student having a cubby outside the classroom to store their boots and snow pants. Each classroom was decorated for Christmas. Red and green construction paper covered the walls. Art projects masterfully created by each student lined the perimeter of the chalkboard. The teacher had a tape player (yes, I grew up in the 80's before CD's came around), as the students wandered in from the frigid outdoors, Christmas carols were playing. Not the remake crap by Britney Spears or Usher, but the old school carols sang by gospel choirs.

After school we would get home and mom had transformed our home into a winter wonderland, unlike anything you've ever seen. Garland and multi-colored lights lined each doorway and the railing up the stairs. Santa-themed trinkets lined the mantel and hutch. Christmas music played in our house from Thanksgiving through Christmas.

Going to get the tree in NY state is an awesome experience I'll never forget. We didn't go to a lot and pick out our tree based on the rows of already pre-cut trees, we went to a Christmas tree farm. We would all bundle up, snow gear, tools and all, and would drive the 45 minutes to the tree farm. Upon getting there we would climb into the sleigh pulled by the Clydesdale horses, Holly and Molly. The driver sang Christmas carols all the way up the mountain. Everyone got out of the sleigh and we would start the hunt for our perfect Christmas tree. Of course this was a tree that was a monstrosity of nature. For whatever reason my dad had to have the tree made for people at least 12 feet tall. My dad would cut down the tree, and we would wait for the sleigh to make it's way back up the mountain with it's next load of people. Of course the tree was covered in snow, and we couldn't bring the snow into the house, so we would have to leave the tree in the garage while the snow melted off. The next weekend all of us would decorate the tree together, listen to Christmas music and drink hot chocolate.

Christmas was magical for us growing up. It wasn't about presents, it was about experiences. Snowmen, cutting down the tree, decorating the tree, making cookies with mom every year, watching Christmas movies with dad, making Christmas ornaments at school. In all honesty I don't really remember what any of us got for Christmas. I don't remember opening gifts. I remember singing Silent Night on the school bus. I remember going to see the movie Prancer in the theater with my dad. I remember making snowmen with my sister, and I remember the first time Lauren took "the big jump" on the sled, at the park across the street. Ryan says I have these memories because I'm a girl. Girls remember this stuff, boys remember presents.

Regardless of my child's gender, I hope I can create the same magic for my child as I had growing up. My mom made a big deal out of experiences and what we did everyday. Yeah, we took vacations, and I have some great memories of those vacations, but it's the everyday stuff that I remember the most. I hope I can create memories as good or even better than my own for our child. I hope every one has a magical Christmas, no matter what their gender is, where they are, how they got their tree, or what weather they are having. Merry Christmas.

Is It Just Me Or Do People Really Suck?

2010-12-14T19:12:00.003-06:00

Ya know, I seem to recall feeling this way around this time last year towards people. Maybe it's the greed in the air, or the way the holidays make everyone exhausted from all the "go here, go there, buy this, do that" business, but people really suck. I hate to be the pessimist here, but let's all take off our rose colored glasses and look at things realistically. When was the last time you went out in public and didn't think, "geez that person is rude," or "how inconsiderate of that person," or "it's called a blinker pal"? Oh, you didn't think any of those things, well then people were probably saying those things about you. Just sayin'.

What is it about the holidays that makes everyone so selfish? This is the time for giving, a time to be thankful for what you have, whether that be a lot or a little. Not the time to cut people off in line at Toys R Us, or yell at the girl behind the fast food counter for leaving olives on one of the 15 special ordered sandwiches she made. Yes, I realize the whole girls job is to make sandwiches, but if you order 15 with all kinds of "special" instructions for all your "special" peeps and she only screws up ONE of them, it's probably not the end of the world...crazy secretary looking lady.

No one wants to take responsibility for anything. I watched a lady knock over a table display at the mall, she looked down and said, "I didn't do that." What do you mean you didn't do that???? The aisles are tiny and they have them crammed with Christmas gift ideas and empty gift wrapped boxes, I probably would have knocked it over too! Instead of saying, "oops" or "crap" or "damn", she says it wasn't her, gives the sales clerk an attitude (like it's her fault she knocked the table over) and walks away. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with people?

Are people REALLY that oblivious to those around them? I'm standing in line at Toys R Us, the line is HUGE, streaming down toy aisles huge. The people in front of me are taking their sweet time, "does little Johnny REALLY need this? Should we get Billy the same one? Let me count my roll of $1 bills." Do you not notice the ginormous line behind you, all of which are full of people dressed up, so we're all probably on our lunch break, so ya mind speeding it along a little? Good lord.

I love Christmas, until I go out where there's people, then I remember why I've become a homebody, and I raise my hand up to the sky and thank God I'm an accountant and not in retail this year.

Random Pregnancy Ramblings

2010-12-05T09:52:00.000-06:00

I hope our child wants to be part of girl scouts or boy scouts.

I hope it snows in Nashville for Christmas.

I've always heard it's super easy to get carried away with baby stuff and buy all kinds of crap you don't need. I've found that as soon as I see the price tag I realize I probably don't whatever it was that I was admiring. Well, except for the monitor I registered for, SURELY I need that.

Christmas shopping for Ryan's sister is beyond easy. If Ryan's family ever does the whole, pick-a-name-out-of-a-hat-and-buy-for-them deal, I WILL jerri-rig it so that I get Janea's name every time.

Does anyone else think office holiday parties are completely lame? Seriously, I spend 8 hours a day with these people, I'd rather not spend any extra time with them, thanks. Let me go home at 3 instead of forcing me to deck the warehouse halls with boughs of holly, and I'll be a happy camper.

Since I've been pregnant I've gone home early twice and called out once due to illness. I hope my boss is as understanding as he says he is.

Those women who say they LOVED being pregnant...I think they just forgot what pregnancy was really like.

Thor knows something is up, if I'm out of his sight for too long he comes and finds me and the first thing he does is sniff my belly.

I'm at 11 weeks, not showing yet, and my weight is the same, but I see a difference in my body. I'm softer...bye abs. Marina, I have no idea how you still had abs throughout your 2nd trimester.

I'm down to my last few classes for school, electives. I'm taking a creative writing class. It has shown me just how crappy of a writer I truly am. Thank you so much my loyal blog readers!

I put the Christmas tree up yesterday, all the ornaments bring back such great memories!

Thanksgiving + Pregnancy = Happiness

2010-11-24T07:57:00.004-06:00

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. I had always hoped that if I ever got pregnant that the nine months would land somewhere around Thanksgiving. The Thanksgiving gods have heard my prayers. Tonight, Ryan, Thor and I will be driving to Charleston to spend the holiday with my family. While I'm stuffing my face with turkey, dressing and pumpkin pie, I hope you all have a fantastic holiday filled with family, friends, and food. If you're spending Thanksgiving alone, no worries, sometimes quiet holidays are nice. They allow you to catch up on the sleep you've most likely been lacking, and you won't have to wrestle the mashed potatoes from your sister. Have a safe and happy Thanksgiving!

What I've Learned This Year

2010-11-18T11:49:00.002-06:00

Please read through and answer the following questions as YES or NO:

1. Are you homeless?

2. Are you or any of your relatives missing, i.e. kidnapped or abducted by aliens?

3. Are you dying of an incurable disease?

4. Have you gone more than 24 hours without eating, unvolutarily?

5. Are you suffering from an addiction that controls your life and has shut every person you've ever loved out of your life forever?

If you have answered no to these questions, I'd say you're doing just fine.

Working Mom or Stay At Home Mom?

2010-11-16T12:31:00.006-06:00

So far, the decisions attached to this whole mommy thing have been simple. Legal guardian? Done, easy. Do we want to raise the kid in church? Done, easy. Choosing which pregnancy and baby books was easy. Choosing names was easy. Choosing a doctor...well, I think we just got really really lucky with that one, but regardless, easy. Choosing a birth plan, easy. Should I breastfeed? Done, easy. Choosing who will be in the delivery room, easy. Should I take birthing/parenting classes? Done, easy. The one thing I have struggled to make a decision on is the one thing that should be the easiest decision in the world. Should I stay at home, or should I go back to work?

Before you start stoning me, let me explain. Ryan and I are not rolling in the dough, by any means. We have been fortunate and wise enough to pull ourselves out of the financial crater we were in a year ago, and our bank account looks better than negative. We could afford for me to stay home, it would be tight, like fitting 12 Mexicans in a mini cooper tight, but we could do it. I worry that we may not be able to afford things for our kids, and we might put ourselves in a bind financially if I do stay at home for any length of time. Now I totally realize that they aren't going to college or playing hockey when they're six weeks old, but that crap is expensive and the cost for those things add up fast and seriously, the school system gives you like a week's notice for this stuff. I would like to give our kids opportunities that we didn't have growing up, like a paid college education, or the opportunity to go to football or ballet camp. If I decide to stay at home, regardless of my bachelor's degree and 10 years of accounting experience, interviewers will see the gap in my resume and think I'm not current in my field. It's the age old story so many women have gone through. They decide to stay at home, and when the kids go to school the mom decides it's time to go back to work, only, she can't find a job because she's been out of the game too long, so she ends up working retail, or taking a receptionist position in an attempt to prove herself worthy. In the meantime she's making $8/hr. and wondering why she's even bothering with all this trouble because now the gas getting to and from the job, and the after-school babysitter is more than her paycheck, so now they REALLY can't afford for little Johnny to go to space camp.

I'm not a fan of someone else raising my child. Not that I have no faith in the daycare system. I know a lot of working mom's who really love their daycares. I want to raise my child, that's all. I'm also not a fan of missing milestones in my kid's life. I recall a friend of mine who came into work crying. I asked her what was wrong and she said, that as she was dropping her kid off at daycare, she happily reported that her son took his first steps last night. The girl smiled and said, "Oh yeah he's been doing that for days now." I can only imagine how disappointing that must be. You're his mom and you're missing huge things, like first steps and first words.

I know, I know, at this point you're probably thinking that this is just a matter of what's more important-your career or your kid. I fully understand; however, that's not how I see it. I see my job as a means of being able to provide extra things for my kid that I didn't have growing up. So really it all does come down to the kid. Will I be more upset about missing the kids first steps, or explaining to little Billy why we can't afford for him to go to football camp with his friends? I have no idea. I have no idea what to do.

Ideally, I would work part time, and get daycare part time. That would be the best of both worlds. I get to keep my career and stay current in my field, while still having time for my baby. I'd even be able to do a workout everyday! The only problem with that is, I have no idea if my employer will go for that. I could do my job in 25 hrs. a week no problem. There are days I leave early because I have absolutely nothing left to do. My employer would save money, wouldn't have to pay benefits, would have someone experienced and someone they like in the position, but I have no idea if they'll see it this way. They are hiring a girl to work in customer service and be my "back-up" when I go on maternity leave. They may just say screw it, we'll just keep chicky-poo instead of you. That's no bueno.

Ya know what, yes it would be a bummer to miss my kid's first steps, first words, ect. but really I'm the only one suffering from that standpoint. Sprout isn't going to know if mommy was there for his/her first steps. I have no idea if my mom was there for my first steps and I'm no less of a person because of it. Later on, not being able to send my kid to college, or being able to pay for my daughter's wedding, or being able to pay for them to play sports, the kids are the ones suffering then. I think I would rather be able to afford for my kids to be able to do things and have the life they want than me be selfish and tell them they have to go without because I don't want to miss anything. Does this make any sense? I'm not a professional writer, I'm just a blogger who sometimes can't get her words to make sense. I guess perhaps I solved my own dilemma. I'm just gonna keep my fingers crossed that my boss likes the part time idea...

Before I start receiving hate mail, allow me to clarify. I am in no way, shape or form saying stay at home moms are selfish. Two of my best friends are stay at home moms and they in no way are selfish people. They however have different situations than I. If you can afford to stay home and choose to do so, that is completely up to you, and I am in no way passing judgement. This post is specifically speaking about me and my family. I can only speak on my behalf since I live my life. I can't possible know your life situation or why you choose the decisions you did, nor do I pretend to. I am strictly speaking for myself.

Sprout What the Heck Are You Doing In There?

2010-11-08T08:27:00.003-06:00

We've decided to call the kid Sprout. It sounds a lot better than "it". I'm trying to convince Ryan that we should let the gender be a surprise. I have yet to succeed with that task. Ryan wants a boy so bad he can barely stand it. I keep telling him that knowing the gender isn't going to change anything, that the gender has already been decided, and that's that. He knows all that, yet he still wants to know. He says he wants to bask in the joy of being able to tell people he has a son. What is he going to tell people if we have a little girl? Maybe he needs time to mourn the loss of the son he never had? I have no idea. Men. I'm still convinced that if we could create sperm in a lab, they'd be an obsolete species.

Making a kid is exhausting. My friend Kristine, who is also pregnant, said that everyday during the first trimester we use the same amount of energy it takes to run a full marathon. Well daggum, no wonder I'm pooped after cleaning the kitchen! I actually feel VERY lucky so far. I've had few to no symptoms. One day of nausea that's it. Other than starving every 5 minutes and feeling like I'm gonna fall asleep at any moment, I feel good. I have those moments where my body just feels weird. I know, I know, that's a completely vague and general term, but I don't know how else to explain it. I just feel odd, not myself, strange. Not bad, just different. That's typically when I ask Sprout what he/she's doing in there.

Apples and Taco Bell have become my best friends. We're not talking, like an apple a day type thing. I'm talking like bushels of apples. One day I had three and that wasn't enough, I wanted more. Apples have a lot of natural sugar in them, so 2-3 is gonna have to be my limit there, much to Sprout's dismay. Taco Bell, this is new. I hate fast food, it literally makes me sick. Taco Bell is the worst. It's absolutely disgusting, it tastes like grease. I can almost feel my arteries clogging as I would order Ryan's food in the drive through. I was driving around on my lunch break trying to figure out what to eat, when I saw a Taco Bell. Without even thinking I was driving into the drive through and ordering. It was delicious and EXACTLY what I wanted. Weird. Sweets make me sick. I had an Oreo the other day and ended up spitting it out, it tasted terrible. The thought of cake, or cookies, or ice cream makes me want to hurl. I'm hoping this whole hating sweets thing passes by the time Thanksgiving and Christmas get here. If not, well, no treats for me. That's alright, I have no problem with filling up on turkey, and mashed potatoes!

We Have A Heartbeat

2010-11-03T21:06:00.002-05:00

Big news, I’m pregnant, half way through my first trimester, woohoo! It’s very surreal, I don’t look pregnant and I didn’t have any weird symptoms until recently, so this whole baby building thing is still pretty knew. We tried for three months, got pregnant some time in September, I feel VERY lucky it happened for us semi-fast. People say all the time that pregnancy and birth is a miracle. It’s hard to see it that way when: 1) you’ve never been through it, 2) teenagers pop up pregnant all the time. It’s not until you start reading pregnancy books and doing research that you realize that things have to line up just right and stay lined up just right to create a baby. It’s pretty amazing.

I can honestly say that there is something to be said about trying/but not trying. People told us, try but don’t try, the minute you stop trying so hard is when you’ll get pregnant. I tracked my ovulation for months, took my temperature, peed on sticks, made sure we only had sex every other day, the list goes on. September came and I said screw it, I’m not tracking any of this anymore, and we didn’t and we’re pregnant.

It’s a bit overwhelming. First thing, other than pee on 6 pregnancy tests, was to find a doctor. Again, I feel lucky, first doctor I met with we both really liked. No word of mouth, no asking around, I went to my insurance website pulled up a list of doctors and picked one out randomly. Called the office and set up an appointment. We lucked out on that one, I thought for sure I would have to meet with a bunch of doctors before we found one we liked. After I got home and dumped out the big bag of crap they gave me, realized I had enough bathroom reading material for the next 10 years is when the anxiety and overwhelming gasping started to set in. I called my mom-“There’s so much crap I have to do! I’m still working and in school! I have to schedule birthing classes now because they get booked super fast! I need to pre-register with the hospital, and figure out our kids religion, what if our kid doesn’t want to be our religion! I have to register with baby stores, and set up a nursery, OH MY GOD I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I’M DOING!” My mom calmly told me to chill out and do one thing a day. There’s a reason why we have nine months, it takes that long to get ready. God bless my mom.

So there ya have it. I’m gonna have a baby. We're 7 weeks and heard the heartbeat today. It was amazing. Today was the most perfect day ever.

Worry

2010-11-02T15:01:00.002-05:00

I fully realize that worrying about something is pointless. That it does no good to worry about it, it only adds stress to your life, contributes to health issues and shortens your life; however, for some it's just not as simple as saying "I'm not going to worry about this anymore."

Take me for example, I consider myself a professional worrier. For a long time it was the house in Virginia. What if they foreclose? Will it ruin my accounting career? Why won't they work with us? Surely there's something we can do? After I realized that there was absolutely nothing we could do, that our hands were tied, I did stop worrying and my mind simply moved on to the next topic of worry. I've been like that since college.

Oh how I wish I could be like Ryan or Marina sometimes. Aliens could be invading and they'd tell everyone to chill out, that the world wasn't coming to an end.

Are you a worrier? How do you calm your mind?

Interesting Thought of the Day

2010-10-12T15:04:00.002-05:00

Nowadays, women can pretty much do everything men can. We can run companies, manage money, work in factories, run machinery, play sports. All that stuff that way back when only men did, women can now do all those things. I'd like to see a man go into work after being up with an infant all night and do a steller job. I'd like to see a man cook dinner, watch the news, feed the baby and do a load of laundry all at the same time, WHICH by the way, I have seen. I'd like to see a man give birth. I'd like to see a man raise the kids, manage a home, work full time, and go to school for his masters, yet again, I've seen women do this. Some women do all this without a man being present at all, hello military wives and single mom's.

Ya know, if there was a way to create sperm in a lab, there would probably be no reason for men to exist at all. No offense babe, just sayin.

Random Ramblings

2010-10-06T19:12:00.003-05:00

Big news, Sean, Jen and Kael are coming to see us this weekend. I'm so stoked! Sean sent me a picture of Kael, and he's grown at least 17 feet since we last saw him. Well, maybe not 17 FEET, but close. The weather is beautiful here in Louisiana, sheer perfection, so we're gonna hit New Orleans. I can't wait to see them.

Been running, the ankle is fine, I've been keeping it wrapped. Yesterday was rough, I don't know what my deal was I could barely do my four miles without grabbing my knees and gasping for air. I took today off in case my body needed rest. Yesterday the same blond chick passed me about four times. I wanted to ask her what the heck she was eating or drinking that produces speed, but I couldn't catch her.

Saw on the web that Chelsea Handler and 50 cent were together. That's a match I didn't see coming.

Fall makes me rediscover apples, in the most delicious ways.

So we decided that we probably aren't going to Disney in November. It's no big, we decided to save the money to take a trip somewhere we haven't been yet. No clue where that somewhere is, we haven't talked about it; but when we do we'll have the money for it! Truth is, neither one of us were super excited about driving 10 hours to walk around a park for a day, then drive another 10 hours back.

Fall air smells crispy. Er, crisp like. You know what I mean.

Little kid and baby Halloween costumes are completely adorable.

I understand football so much better when I see it from that stands versus my couch.

Cookin' Cajun Lesson 1-Gumbo

2010-10-03T16:10:00.009-05:00

Gumbo is amazing. I didn't have gumbo until I moved down here, and when I tried it I was hooked. It's delicious. Completely terrible for you, a pound of butter, 3 cups of flour, vegetables cooked to bare mush, pretty much zero nutritional value, but absolutely delicious. Our first gumbo attempt was no good. The recipe was terrible, it wasn't easy to follow and it left out crucial ingredients to make the roux. For our 2nd attempt I pulled the recipe off the New Orleans website, and had much better luck.

Making gumbo is much more involved than I had assumed. Lots of chopping, stirring, putting stuff in, taking stuff out, roasting of chickens and so on. It's not a matter of dumping everything into a pot and letting it boil for awhile, it's a lot of work. Certainly not a dish I would want to do on a weekday after a long day of work. Just to make the roux alone, was an hour of stirring. No joke an entire hour, straight stirring. Ryan and I took turns, I thought my arm was going to fall off. They say that a good roux is supposed to be a dark mahogany color. The darker the roux the more flavorful. After about 45 minutes of stirring our roux was still only a creamy light brown color. We added some more butter and flour and nothing changed. After looking at a few different resources, the chef pros say that there isn't THAT much flavor difference between a light brown roux and a dark brown roux. The dark brown roux's are a little bit more nutty in flavor, but that's it. We decided to give our arms a break and just deal with the light brown roux.

We timed it so that by the time the roux was done our chicken would be done roasting. Once the roux was made we added the veggies, meat and spices. We let that boil for about 45-60 minutes, and presto! We had gumbo.

Gumbo is typically served over rice, so we continued with the traditional way to eating the dish. It was delicious, but I think next time we're going to make a few changes-add shrimp, worcheshire sauce, and more chili powder.

This Is The Year I'm Going To Get My Crap Together...Oh Screw It, I'll Be At The Bar

2010-09-29T08:06:00.001-05:00

One year ago today, I was on the road, my car packed with my belongings, Thor sitting in the backseat, headed to our new life in Louisiana. I was angry that I had to give up my job at the company that I had worked so hard at. The position that I worked so hard to obtain and maintain. The company that I could see me growing in and climbing the corporate ladder in. I was angry I had to leave my house, not because I loved that house, but because I knew that there was no way we could afford two house payments, and with the housing market being beyond lousy, we would eventually lose the house. I was sad to leave my friends, although most are military and would eventually move, I was sad to leave my civilian friends too. I loved my life in Virginia, I was angry I had to leave it behind. My marriage was not good, Ryan and I were fighting all the time, constantly at each others throats, and I had zero desire to live in Louisiana. On top of all that I was disappointed with myself for feeling all of those things. It is now one year from that day. I have a decent job with decent pay. One of the ladies I work with has become a good friend. I no longer hate my husband, as a matter of fact I think I'll keep him. Thor's gotten used to not having a backyard and doesn't even bother with the stray cats anymore.

Time heals all things. Eventually you're gonna get over it, you're gonna move on with your life. I had to stop fighting the battle of Louisiana, and just get over it. I, of course, was the only one fighting this battle. Louisiana had no idea I was at odds with it. Eventually you just have to say, "This is my life right now, I can either deal and chill or stay pissy and miserable." It's exhausting holding a grudge, especially against an entire state that doesn't know you despise it. Am I saying you should force yourself to like something? Nope. Do I ooze happiness that I live here. Meh. But I do live here now and I can either make the best of it or be a pain in the ass. Frankly, I'm running out of new reasons to continue hating this place.

Basically, eventually you end up saying, "FINE, you win, I'll be at the bar."

Home Is Where the Heart Is

2010-09-26T11:35:00.002-05:00

The word home can mean many different things. Your home could be your house, the facility you physically live in. For a student going to school out of state, or a military person your home could be your parents house. Your home may be where your significant other may be, or where your children are. For me, I have many homes.

I first left my parents house when I was 21, I got married and moved to where Ryan was stationed-8 hours and 2.5 states away. Ryan would get upset that I still called Charleston my home. Not that I didn't consider my place with Ryan home, but Charleston was where my family was, so I called Charleston home. Nashville is also home-Ryan's family is in Nashville. Now, Baton Rouge is home. I think of Baton Rouge as a temporary home, similar to the way I thought of Virginia as being a temporary home.

They say home is where the heart is. Ryan and I have so many homes, and our home has changed every 4-5 years, we just say America is our home, right now we live in Baton Rouge. When people ask us where we are from we typically look at each other, laugh and say, right now we live in Baton Rouge. Explaining that I'm originally from NY, Ryan's originally from CA, but prefers to say he's from TN, we met in SC, lived in VA and now LA is just too much to explain.

Lately I've been missing my family a lot. I call it being homesick, even though I have a home here. I don't remember missing my family this much when I was younger, even though Ryan says I've always been a little homesick. I don't remember the yearning for my family being so strong. I've even seen them three times this year, I still miss them very much. Maybe it's because so many things have been going on with my family this year-Lauren's graduation, Jackie getting married, dad getting a new job and leaving the police field, mom's heart attack. Maybe it's because we're trying to have a baby and I never thought I would want kids, let alone have them without my mom being around. Maybe it's because the holidays are coming and I always miss my family more around the holidays.

Someone really needs to develop teleportation, 12 hours is just too far to drive on a regular 2-day weekend. Is anyone else homesick? Do you guys miss a certain person or place?

Operation Learn How To Cook Cajun

2010-09-23T12:29:00.003-05:00

I am by no means a cook. I can bake. I come from a long line of excellent pie bakers, but my cooking skills are horrendously lack luster. Ya know those marinade packets made by McCormick in the seasoning aisle at the grocery store? The ones where you mix the seasoning, oil, vinegar and water? THAT is my kind of cooking, bada bing bada boom, DINNER. Sssaawweeettt! Hey give me a break, my husband cooks, I swiffer.

We all know New Orleans is a foodie's dream. The food here in Louisiana truly is phenomenal. I love spicy food and NOTHING compares to the food in Louisiana. For several months now I've wanted to be able to go home and cook true Louisiana cuisine for my family, or if people come to see us I'd like to be able to make Cajun food for them. About a month ago, I started researching authentic Louisiana dishes-gumbo, jambalaya, ect.

Several weekends ago, we tried our hand at gumbo. It was a miserable failure. First of all, cooking this stuff is not nearly as easy as just throwing it all in a pot and stirring. Hollywood needs to find new sources for this crap. Cooking Cajun food takes HOURS, chopping, prepping, stirring, take crap out of the pot, putting crap back in the pot. I was literally in the kitchen for four straight hours that Sunday afternoon. Dude, I'm in the kitchen long enough to clean it after Ryan cooks, do the dishes and make coffee. Four hours is entirely too long. Ryan even helped! After I asked where we put the chainsaw so that I could cut up the chicken, he decided he had better come see what the crap I was doing. Basically, the gumbo was horrifically bland. I even doubled up on the spices, no worky worky. It was just boring, no kick, little flavor, it just wasn't good. This weekend is round two of the gumbo sector. We'll let you know how it goes...

Injuries and Marathons

2010-09-20T21:37:00.004-05:00

Two days after my sister's wedding my dad and I were on our usual 12-mile bike trail. Every time I go home dad and I take a 12-mile bike ride. It's something that allows us to bond, something we both need, and we've both come to enjoy it. I wish I could say that I was doing something valiant like saving a child from an on-coming car or rescuing a kitten from the clutches of an alligator, but I can't. I was avoiding a pricker bush, which caused me to almost ride smack into a pole, which upon dodging that caused me to lose my balance. I jumped off the bike, lost my balance some more and landed in a heap on the asphalt. My knees and hands were a bloody, fleshy mess and I had to walk a mile vs. ride because my ankle was all jacked up; but I'll be damned if I didn't finish all 12 miles, blood running down my legs and all.

Since then my knees and hands have healed nicely, my ankle however is another story. It's amazing how such a minor sprain can be so annoying. The wrapping, the icing, the elevating, GAH! After about a week I was able to walk normally on it and go up and down stairs faster than an elderly woman who just had a hip replacement, but it's still slightly swollen, and twisting my foot so that the bottom is facing up is slightly painful. I was supposed to start training for the Mardi Gras Marathon two weeks ago, but I didn't think running on a sprained ankle, minor or not was a good idea. Aside from the swelling and the strange tweaking when I twist my foot, I feel fine, so I decided to start training slowly. Today I walked 4.5 miles, I feel great, and my ankle is still swollen. No worse, no better. I guess we'll see how it is in the morning.

No wonder athletes get SUPER pissed when they get injured. Not only does it set them back weeks, months or years, but it's so frustrating and annoying. I was planning on starting marathon training no problem, but now I'm weeks behind and I'm having to nurse this dud of an ankle. I'm glad this happened so far ahead of the marathon, plenty of time to heal and train!

Realms of Twilight

2010-09-13T12:07:00.000-05:00

For those of you out there into role-playing games, check out the Realms of Twilight website-http://www.realmsoftwilight.net/. I actually know the author, Ryan and I have been friends with he and his wife for a few years now. The Realms of Twilight Campaign Setting book is actually a "world book". It sets the scene for the game master to work in. Each player chooses their own character and rolls for their character stats. The game master then places those characters in a certain world or area. As you can imagine there are a lot of things to think about, terrain, vegetation, life forms, city dwellers, the list goes on and on. Most people just want to play, they don't want to have to think about all that crap. Just like the Dungeons and Dragons magazine and books, Realms of Twilight does the same thing, it sets the area of play for the game master. Dan even offers a free 9-page sample of his book, so you can check it out before you make a purchase (this is available at drivethrurpg.com).

Dan, the creator of Realms of Twilight, has been playing these role-playing games since he was four years old. His 20+ years of experience in this hobby shows in his book. If you've run a campaign before, you know how often the game master needs to improvise and think on their feet. Just one roll of the dice and anything in the game can change. All those details you thought of before, now may not matter. From the crisp detail of the terrain to his extensive background explanation of dragon lore, running a campaign with his book will be an entertaining and smooth experience. Personally, I am looking forward to his first fantasy novel.

I've dabbled in a broad area of hobbies. I've tried anything from knitting to PC gaming. There's few things I won't try. Why not try everything once? If you find out something isn't for you, well that's the best thing about hobbies, you can start or stop whenever you want. Life's too short not to try new things. You never know, you just might find out something new about yourself, meet some pretty cool people, or realize you really like something you never thought you'd enjoy.

Be the Duck

2010-09-09T20:45:00.003-05:00

Be the duck. A swimming duck, not a flying duck, I don't do flying things. To the world, a duck gently and gracefully glides on the pond, barely making any ripples in the water. The duck looks calm, cool and collected; yet underneath the blanket of clear water those little webbed feet are paddling furiously. So, my new mantra...be the duck...

Marriage Is Like Ice Cream

2010-09-08T19:21:00.003-05:00

The flavor, whichever you choose as your favorite, never changes, it's always the same, sometimes you really crave it and sometimes you wonder why it's even in your freezer. It typically seems to be your undoing, your comfort when you've had a rough or particularly celebratory day. HOWEVER, there are days when you know you should throw it out, because it drives you crazy, yet you can't bring yourself to toss it because even though it drives you crazy it is a constant. It's always there when you need it, and when you don't need it. It always tastes good, it never tastes bad. You can depend on ice cream...for the most part. It may have a rather negative affect on you when you step on the scale, but when you evaluate the pros and cons, the pros win, so you keep the ice cream in the house.

However odd this post may be, it's true and you know it. ;-)

Weddings and Reflections

2010-09-04T19:42:00.004-05:00

I was in Charleston last weekend getting my sister married and what not. After about four nervous breakdowns, six pep talks, an entire box of tissues, a drunk DJ, and a charred veil, my sister is now a newlywed.

I look back and remember what it was like starting a new chapter. I was now a wife, I had a husband. We had our own place in a different state than either of our families. I remember one night I was homesick and crying. Ryan held me close, stroking my hair saying, "It's ok babe, we have each other. I'm your family now." I burst into hysterical sobbing at that point. Poor guy.

It can be exciting starting this chapter in your life, and scary. Right before the ceremony to wed my sister started, she, Lauren and I stood in that church nursery, my sister glowing in white, holding her bouquet of Calla lilies, the lilies vibrating from her shaking hands. "Do I look pretty?" She asked. Her voice shaky, her eyes wide and glassy. I responded, "You look breath taking." She looked at me and said, "I don't remember you being this nervous when you got married. Why am I so nervous?" Her lilies shook harder with every question. I slathered another coat of lip gloss on her lips as I told her that as soon as she saw Josey she would be fine. She was. The candle light ceremony was beautiful. I'll never forget how my new brother-in-laws eyes welled up with tears as he repeated those vows to my sister.

Watching my sister at her wedding and reception, and getting the post honeymoon-I'm home-I miss you, phone call makes me reminisce about what was running through my head when I got married. I was going to own a home, have my first child, be the top personal trainer at the gym, remain a size 0, Ryan and I were going to take fabulous weekend getaways to DC, and have gobs of money in the bank, all by the time I was 25. Well, needless to say none of that happened quite the way I expected it to. I was a personal trainer...for about three weeks, we did go to DC a few times, and we did buy our first home when we were 23 and 24.

It's amazing how your priorities change with age. You suddenly realize that all those lofty ideas were just that, lofty. Somewhere in the midst of sugarplums and gumdrops, those ideas got sticky and became a giant ball of sickening sweet sugar that makes me laugh and roll my eyes. (Maybe that's where those pesky ten pounds came from...) Oh Stephanie, look how naive you were. Somewhere down the road we all realize that things don't always go as planned, plans have a tendency to rearrange themselves. Just like Marina always says, it always works out in the end. I've decided that it's not the end that really matters, it's the process of getting to the end.

Career Choices

2010-08-12T07:55:00.005-05:00

Growing up, my parents always told me to do what I love. "Do what you love because in the end, happiness is all that really matters." I decided to go to school for theater and literature. I love theater, I love writing, I love reading, so it made sense to go to school to learn creative writing. What my parents didn't tell me and I didn't think to ask, was, how was I supposed to thrive in this certain field. Writing is pretty competitive. Editors get thousands of articles sent to them everyday by writing hopefuls. California is even worse, everyone's a screenwriter. Directors, producers and agents have scripts coming out of their ears, and unfortunately if you're not there and visiting these people it's hard to establish a repore with them. Unless you write several books, and they're popular books, you're not gonna make a lot of money. It's true money isn't everything, but it does pay for food, a vehicle, a house, clothing. You can live as frugal as you can, but you're still gonna need to make a certain amount to sustain the life you want. I can't do that with writing, maybe someday...maybe not. I need to do what's realistic and practical for my family now. Hence why I choose accounting. Accounting is not my love, it's probably one of the most boring fields EVER; but it pays, I can do it anywhere and no matter what shape this world is in, you'll always need accountants and financial people. Was it my first choice...no. It's the practical and logical choice.

The job market is terrible right now, and really competitive. I read an article that said there's 60 people for every one job. That's 59 other people you have to compete with for that job application you just filled out. That's crappy, especially if you don't have a degree or a plethora of experience. I read the New York Times and BusinessWeek regularly. It's hard to get a realistic idea of our economy's future, one day economists are saying we're heading out of the recession, the next day they're saying we're headed towards a double-dip. The housing and job markets have had little to no improvement. What they thought was improvement is really just a shift in numbers, the ending result has not changed.

My sister is in school for graphic design. She's an amazing artist, but I worry that she won't get very far in that field. Not because she doesn't have the talent or the drive, but because the art field just doesn't pay very much, it's extremely competitive, and many places aren't even hiring right now. How is she supposed to pay for an apartment, a car, her student loans, her credit card, clothing, gas, her cell phone, and utilities off of $30,000 a year? That's not including extra things like going to the movies, or visiting her sister in Louisiana. The average earnings for graphic designers is about $45,000. Even without our debt, Ryan and I would have a rough time paying for housing, utilities, child costs and regular everyday living expenses with $45,000. We would have to forgo certain amenities, like cable, healthy food, road trips to visit family, and children, we're not really willing to let go of those items.

I find that most people I know don't work in the field that they love. My dad's love is acting, he's a cop. My love is writing, I'm an accountant. My sister-in-law went to school for graphic design, she's a nanny. Ryan's love is cooking, he's a service technician. Tiffany would love nothing more than to be a stay-at-home mom, she's an accountant. Why? Why do all these people forgo their career love for some other job? Simple, they can't afford it. Happiness may be important, but so is paying the bills, and usually artistic fields don't pay much. I know, I know, someone is probably reading this thinking, my Aunt Tilly makes X amount of dollars every month off Etsy and is able to live just fine. Well, there's always the people that do make it work, congratulations to them, they've arrived; however, the rest of us like to eat more than ramen and frozen pizza everyday.

Those people who truly love being a lawyer, or an accountant or an economist, they have the best of both worlds, they do what they love AND they make a decent amount of money, but I think those people are rare. My question is this-would you do what you love even if that means struggling financially? Or would you do what's realistic? For me, I do what's realistic and my love has become my hobby. Are you working in the field you love, or has your love become a hobby?

Oh My God I Have No Idea What I'm Doing

2010-08-07T14:28:00.006-05:00

Sean, Ryan's brother, and his 7 mo. old son, Kael, came to visit us this weekend. It was kind of a last minute thing, and we were super stoked because we don't get to see them all that often, just a handful of times each year. Kael is such an easy baby, he smiles at everyone!

Today, Sean and Ryan went to the store, they were gone about 20 minutes, and Kael was down for his nap. Sean said, if he wakes up he'll need a diaper change and to be fed. I responded, "Sure, I totally got it." About 10 minutes after they left I heard the tiny squealing from the guest room. I go in and there he is looking up at me all smiles and coo's. "Hey bud!" I pick him up and start looking for the diapers. No diapers. "Hm, where'd your daddy put your diapers? Ok well there's wipes, we'll need those. Alright come on we need to find Aunt Stephie's cell phone." I called Ryan, asked where the diapers were. Ryan said they'd be home in 5 minutes and the diapers were on the floor. I found the diapers and laid Kael down on the floor. Oh my lord, he is a wiggly little squirt. After about 3 minutes of flipping him back over because he rolled over and started scooting away, I looked at him and said, "Ok seriously dude you're gonna have to work with me here." Sean came in and he must have seen the look on my face cuz he cracked a smile. "I'm going to be a terrible mom! I can't even change his diaper, his getaway plan is to good!"

Then we started feeding him, and I couldn't work the feeding chair. He started getting a little fussy and I wasn't sure if I was feeding him to slow or what. Ryan came over and was able to feed him fine. So I get him cleaned up and again couldn't work the feeding chair thing. Set him on the floor with his toys to play, I get up and he starts fussing. "I'll be right back bud!" Got my drink and came back. Sean said that he likes to see people, so if you're going to be up and doing stuff try putting him in his bouncy contraption. "Oh ok, makes sense." He bounced, I cleaned the kitchen. We moved back into the living room and played for a bit. After awhile he started getting fussy. Sean said he's tired, so I go to put him down and I'm asking Sean questions that I probably should already know. "Do I lay him down on his back or his tummy? Does he need anything else besides his baby sleeping bag?" I feel like I should already know all that stuff. I'm a girl, I want a baby, makes sense right? Let's get real here, how in the world would I know any of this stuff I don't have a baby! I never baby sat, and when I did work with kids it was never babies. I worked with 2-3 year olds and 12 year olds.

You hear people talk about the whole, "you just know what to do". Um, how? Maybe I just won't know other people's kids, but I will with my own? Does the mommy instinct section of your brain decide to turn on when you get pregnant? I know that a few of my friends have said that they had no clue what they were doing, they just winged it. Their babies are happy and healthy. Why do we not talk about the realistic part of having a kid? Is it because admitting we don't have any experience in the mommy department means we're lousy moms or going to be lousy mom's? You never hear women say that they don't want stretch marks, or that they're worried they won't lose the baby weight, or that they're scared they'll scar their kid for life because, let's face it, even if you have 20 kids, each kid is gonna be different; so even if you're already a mom each kid is like a whole new parenting experience.

Admitting these fears doesn't make us bad people, it makes us real. No woman wants their body all jacked up for forever, it's a price we pay to have kids, most women hope that their body goes back to semi-normal after the pregnancy. Most women want to be a good parent (the exception would be the women adopting their children out, they won't be a parent, so they won't have this concern), and I think it's normal to be concerned with the type of parent you'll be. Yet, you never hear anyone talk about their concerns or fears, it's all baby names this and nursery colors that. I love my friends, they are the most honest group of women I've ever known, and for that I'm so thankful. If they weren't open and honest, I probably would feel that I'm just not mom material. Knowing that it's normal to not know what the heck you're doing is relieving...and a little frightening. I was kinda hoping the whole mother nature thing would kick in and I would know why my kid was screaming, who knows if that will actually happen or not. If it doesn't, well, I'll just wing it, it seems to work for everyone else.

So I'm Insane...What Else Is Knew?

2010-08-03T12:13:00.003-05:00

Alright enough with the I'm back, no I'm not, I'm back, no I'm not BS. In between kicking Monday into the taxi and sending that bitch where she came from, barely passing my Econ homework assignment and getting ANOTHER negative pregnancy test, I'm just gonna say screw the whole bloggy break thing. You guys are just gonna have to deal with my hormonal cranky ass. Yes, you read that right a negative pregnancy test. We're trying to have a baby. The Air Force isn't accepting anybody right now, they're too full. Who knew we could have too much military? So, it's baby time. We've only been trying a couple months, so I'm trying not to get too exasperated that I haven't seen the dual lines on the pee stick yet. Although if you asked Marina, Alison or Tiffany how I was handling it they might say I'm a tad impatient. It's a big thing, we're excited, what can I say.

So, due to the lack of birth control hormones that keep me functional and some what well-behaved, I've been a teeny irritable, a tad overly sensitive, and refuse to be held liable for whatever heinous crap can and will come out of my mouth at this point in time.

I would like to take this moment to thank my mother-in-law for not calling every week wanting to know if I was pregnant yet, like a few others I know. You have no idea how stressful something as fun as baby making can become until you have friends and family asking "are you pregnant yet, how's the baby making going, how long have you been trying," and on and on and ON it goes. I feel kinda bad, one of Ryan's best buds caught me online one night and made the fatal mistake of asking how the baby making was going. The conversation may or may not have ended with me threatening to stick an ovulation test in his ear the next time I saw him. If you know someone trying to conceive, don't badger them, good lord. I'm fairly certain they know how to make babies, where they come from, what position is best, and how ovulation works, so no advice is necessary. Really, I promise.

Technically we weren't going to even tell people we were trying, for this very reason, the comments, the unwanted or needed advice, we were hoping to bypass all of that, however; a certain husband decided to put it on Facebook for all of the Facebook world to see. Awesome. That conversation went a little like this...
"Um, babe, I thought we weren't telling people about the baby making?"
"Yeah, right, we aren't."
"Well, um, then how come you have it POSTED ON FACEBOOK?!?!"
"I...didn't...ish. I'm sorry babe, I wasn't thinking, I was excited!"

I couldn't be mad at him, he's wanted kids since the day he proposed, however; if he continues to be one of the people happily bouncing around me asking "are you pregnant, did you pee on the stick" I'll be forced to use the magical duct tape on him. Silence is golden, duct tape is silver.

Yet Again

2010-07-27T08:41:00.003-05:00

Have you ever followed a blog that you LOVED, thought it was fantastic, awesome, amazing and incredible? You've followed that blog for months, YEARS even, then all the sudden the author falls off the face of the planet, never to be heard of again...or for at least a month or so. It's always the amazing writers that sporadically disappear and reappear. I, am not one of those writers. I promise I'm not dead, or dying, or abducted or anything like that, I'm just gonna take another blogging break. I thought I was ready to come back...I'm not. 'Nough said.

I Tend To Stand In My Own Way...

2010-07-24T12:10:00.007-05:00

As most of you guys already know, I moved around a lot as a kid. About every five years, my dad would transfer somewhere or take another job, and we'd move. Before I was homeschooled, we would have to change schools. As a kid, I would have a lot of friends, but I would typically click really well with one person, that person was what you'd call a best friend, of course we'd always end up moving, so I have a best friend from my past for every city we lived in. Recently I've been in contact with two of those girls. Facebook is an amazing tool, when it's not annoying the crap out of me.

I came home from work one day and checked my email. I had a Facebook email from Jessie, my best friend in junior high. I couldn't believe it. After accepting her friend request and sending her the typical, "HOLY CRAP! HOW'D YOU FIND ME? I'M SO GLAD YOU DID!" message I read her profile. She still lives in upstate NY, has a masters degree and is a producer for a television station. She of course, asked the typical, "Where have you been? What have you been doing?" questions. I immediately felt completely embarrassed. Here I am 27 years old, STILL don't have my bachelor's degree, working in single-handedly THE most boring profession in the universe, and living in Louisiana. Oh God, the shame. For a split second I thought, "If I lied, would she find out?" I decided to tell the truth. I don't have the memory to keep up with lies. I'd forget what I told people and end up ratting myself out. It's just better if I avoid that.

Yesterday, Ryan told me that someone he went to grade school with, found him on Facebook. I said, "Oh wow, I don't even remember any ones name I went to grade school with...except Brittany." I logged onto Facebook and did a search, there she was...I thought. I sent the, "Are you who I think you are? If not, my bad" message. This morning I got a message back, it was Brittany my best friend in elementary school. She was premed, working on her masters degree, living in NYC when she realized she hated it and decided to go to culinary school...in Italy. "What have you been doing Steph? Where have you been? I've thought of you often!" Oh God, the shame. Welll...I'm an accountant who hasn't finished her BACHELOR'S yet, living in LOUISIANA, and wondering why the hell she has Facebook.

As we were catching up, I had an epiphany. I've been so ashamed of my life because it doesn't look like I've done much with it. I don't have my degree yet, the house I do have is being foreclosed on, I've never traveled overseas, I don't have kids, I have THE most boring job in the world (all accountants will agree with me), but who the hell cares. I've been so embarrassed that my life pale's in comparison to these other people's that I went to school with, I never looked at what I did have. I've been married to a military man for six years. Just being married six years is an accomplishment these days! I am honored to say that I was a military wife for five years. The divorce rate in the military is 75%, most women can't do it, but I could. I was never more proud of my life than when I told people I was a military wife. That's big (all military spouses will agree with me). I chose my profession because it was practical. I was marrying a military man, military moves a lot, I need a career that I can do anywhere. If I had finished my degree in theatre, I wouldn't have been able to do much with it anyway. We have a "little theater" down here that does strange versions of Rent every other month. A playwright isn't gonna go very far with that.

Yes, I have an incredibly boring job, yes I'm still working on my bachelor's degree, yes I live in the pit of southern hell. I also have two sisters who I know love me very much, I have the four best friends in the entire world who love me no matter what my profession is or where I live, and I have a marriage that's lasted through rocky hikes up hill in the pouring rain, and sailed through calm waters. So here's my epiphany, the only one embarrassed of me is me...

Remember When You Had A Six-Pack Without Working Out At All and Ate Everything You Wanted...

2010-07-15T14:39:00.005-05:00

Does anyone else find it hard to keep up with a workout? To maintain the body I want I need to exercise six days a week, for about an hour and a half a day, and maintain a strict diet of what resembles cardboard and wood chips. Sounds super fun right? I know, seriously, how can I not want to do all that????

Like most people, right around the ripe old age of 25 my metabolism started to slow down, I had desk jobs that didn't have a lot of active time to them, Ryan and I ate like crap cuz we were young and could. We didn't really think about it. Yeah I know, I used to be a personal trainer; I knew eventually the glory days would end but you try to live them out as long as you can. Some try to live them out even though their WAY past the deadline...exhibit A...

You may remember last year right around this time I decided to try P90X. It worked, I lost 10% body fat and totally fit into my size 2 jeans again. It was glorious. Then...I had a cupcake and apparently as you get older the affects of fat and sugar triplify. In my sheer panic of gaining 5 billion pounds from cupcakes and cookies I started P90X again, worked like a charm. Then...I went to Olive Garden. You may start to see a pattern here, if I'm not eating GOBS of protein and exercising 2 hours a day, maintaining my 115 pound, size 2 frame is a total pain in the ass.

Here's my problem, I work 8 hours a day, 7am-4pm. I also have a husband and dog who start whining if I'm ignoring them, and I'm in school full time. In a nutshell, weekdays suck. I was doing the whole-home at 4:30, heaven forbid you take longer than 3.5 minutes to read the mail cuz now you're behind in your 2 hour workout, which sets dinner behind, then you'll never get all your school work done for tonight which sets you behind for the entire week-deal. I'm really getting sick and tired of rushing around like a chicken with its head cut off just to make sure I look decent. NOT TO MENTION, I WANT COOKIES DAMMIT. I digress.

Am I the only one who has a hard time fitting this into their day? I've thought about cramming my workout into the morning, but that means I'll have to get up at 3:30, I truly will die if I have to do that. I even tried breaking my workout into 2 parts, but I had less motivation to do the 2nd half of the workout when I got home from work, so that's no good. Right now I've cut the workout in half (1-hour a day) but I'm not seeing the results I want. I'm also taking my last core classes and they're INTENSE. School has taken double the amount of time it did before, so I'm still running around like a headless rooster...dead chicken...a dead, headless hen, whatever. I guess eventually you just deal with your body and call it a day? Or maybe you tell everything else in your life to take a hike and go back to your chin-ups? I miss the glory days...

Work, Balance and Aneurysms

2010-06-30T13:36:00.004-05:00

Seriously, who came up with the 8-hour workday? If I ever find that person they will be given a slow and tortuous death, courtesy of Stephanie. Workdays should be 5 hours, 7am-12pm. No lunch break of course, geez you gotta get some work done, you lazy bastard. You can get a lot done in 5 hours; and really how much time are you truly missing out on by shaving off those pesky 3 hours? I mean hey, you might miss out on prime internet surfing time, or the hour where you nod off and wake yourself up when your head hits your desk, or your 15 trips to the vending machine for snacks and other calorie filled goodies to keep you awake, but we all can do without that right?

Of course if we’re all working 7am-12pm there’s the time zone issue. Noon eastern time is 9am pacific time and let’s face it Californians don’t even stumble out of bed until about 9am. So, there would need to be a standard time that we all follow. I vote for mountain or central time, it’s in between eastern Time and pacific time. I’ve lived in the eastern time zone, and they could use a little more sleep over there, you westerners can share the wealth a little bit.

And all you people who LOVE work SO MUCH that you’ve wrapped your entire existence around it to the point where you don’t know what to do with yourself if you work less than 14 hours a day…get a hobby, or a family, or something. Yeah, yeah, I know, work IS your hobby; your co-workers/employees ARE your family. That’s just sad and I guarantee your job nor do your co-workers/employees feel the same about you. They’re really all just waiting for you to crack because you never give yourself a break. I mean really, if you die or leave or whatever, the company is still gonna go on, they’ll hire someone else no problem, and they’ll probably be just as good if not better than you. They’re not gonna hang your picture in the hall, or write songs about you, you were just some dude/gal that worked there at some point in time. Spend your time doing something meaningful like taking your kids to the park, THEY will remember you, and you’d rather have them remember you for the times when you took them to the park, not the times when you missed dinner with the family…AGAIN.

Yeah work’s important, it pays the bills. There’s nothing wrong with having a career, I have a career, but there is something wrong when you make it your entire world. I used to be that person who worked long days, tons of overtime, and what did that get me? Stress, headaches, a nice paycheck or two that ended up being devoted to many a happy hour at the nearest bar (which in the long run did me absolutely no good), an offer to fly out west for a threesome, hangovers, mood swings, you get the picture.

Alright, even if this post hasn’t made you realize that a job/career isn’t everything, and you’re just one of those people that is a die-hard workaholic, that’s fine, do what you gotta do, but don’t push your ideology’s and workaholic tendencies on those of us who really just want to put in our time and go home to our family. If we do our job and we do a good job, let it be. I WILL take my vacation, I WILL go home at 4pm when my shift is up, not 4:15, not 4:30, I will clock out and leave at 4, I WILL NOT come in on weekends unless it’s necessary, and I WILL take my full lunch. Yes, I realize unlike you who work from 6am-8pm, I’m not nearly as “dedicated” or “devoted” to this company; but I guarantee the CEO isn’t going to visit your grave, take care of your dog, or read bedtime stories to your kids after you die of a brain aneurysm.

Pardon my random outburst, but I needed to get this off my chest. Just because we choose not to work obscene hours or take on more than we know we can handle does not mean those that do are better than us, that we're slackers, or are less deserving than those who do work countless hours or take on every project they think they can complete. I come in on time, I leave on time, and I do a damn good job; don't make me feel less than who I am just because our point of view is different. I used to be where you are, I don't miss that. At the end of the day I feel content and happy, do you?

School Online and the Ignorant People That Drive Me Insane

2010-06-09T08:35:00.000-05:00

I'm interrupting this blogging break to vent about people's ignorance, including people who are close to me and sometimes are so completely retarded I wonder how it is that I know them and continue to claim them.

The other day I was asked if going to school online was hard. I was asked if it was hard to stay focused, and if it was possible to fail. Apparently, if you teach yourself, you cheat a lot, and therefore it's impossible to fail. Lately, I have also heard snarky comments from other various people about online school. With the popularity of online school growing I was taken back by these questions and comments. I couldn't believe that there were people who thought online school wasn't legit. People's ignorance never ceases to amaze me.

I remember being asked these same questions when I was in high school. I was home schooled from 7th-11th grade. I received a multitude of questions, such as:
Do you have friends?
Does your mom give you all the answers?
Do you have to do school from 7am-2:30pm, like a normal school day?
Do you even do schoolwork?

Um hello, have you met my mom? Yes we had a full school day, we were expected to get up at 6:30am and be ready to do school from 7am-2:30pm. We were not allowed to play outside, or in our rooms, or watch TV. We were expected to study. No my mom did not give us the answers to our tests. Yes we took tests. We also had to do eight book reports a year, and take two writing tests a year. We're talking like 10 page papers in 7th grade. It was not easy, by any stretch of the imagination; however, we had the ability to move at our own pace. If our Bible assignment for that day only took 15 minutes and our math assignment took three hours, that was what we did. I think that because of that, online school just seemed right for me.

During my first two years of college, sitting in a classroom listening to the professors talk about stuff I just read in the book was extremely annoying to me. I felt like I was wasting my time. Seriously, I just read all this stuff, you're not teaching me anything that I didn't just read, this is a waste of time. It got to the point where classroom time was day dream time, totally pointless. I finished at that college with my associates degree and had zero desire to go back. Then, about five years later I realized I had to go back if I was going to move up in my career. I had to work, there was no option there. I applied to the local university and got in. The price was obscene, $40,000 to finish my bachelor's and it was going to take me five years since I had to do night school. Just out of sheer curiosity I started looking at online programs. I wanted to go to a decent school, one with a campus, one that was accredited, one that was affordable. I found the university I'm going to now. The advisers gave me a list of classes that I would need to take and they were able to transfer most of my credits from my AA degree. I would have my bachelor's in 2.5 years for much less than $40k. For me it was a no-brainer. I can do school whenever I want, I don't have to listen to professors bore me to tears, I can still work, I'll finish in half the time for half the money, and there's no difference between this university and the local university that I was going to go to?!?! Hot damn, sign me up.

Yes, you can fail. In regards to cheating, the possibility of cheating is so high, the online classes are designed to be more difficult than the classes you sit in. For example, rarely do you get a class that takes tests, it's too easy to cheat. You have your book and the Internet right there. Most of my classes I've taken were writing intensive, meaning you wrote papers...A LOT. We're talking like three or four six-page papers in an eight week time frame. Most of our tests are essay's, and it's a lot of scenario based or mathematical based questions. If you do get a class with multiple choice tests they're more than likely trick questions designed to make you think or trip you up. It's just as difficult as a sit in class, if not harder because your time is cut. You take three months of work and assignments and cram them in eight weeks and you just cut an entire month out of your semester, and the workload doesn't get cut people, it stays the same.

When I first was looking at online school, I was afraid of how future employers would see my degree. Would they think that I cheated the whole time? Would they think that online school is a bunch of BS? Would they think that I took the easy route vs. the "real" route in regards to my education? I talked to a few people and did some research, apparently people don't care where you get your degree unless you work for the CIA, or NASA. As long as the school is accredited, and your GPA is decent, it doesn't matter if you went to Old Dominion University or Southern New Hampshire University. (Of course, there's a huge difference between Old Dominion and say Chapel Hill, Cornell or Harvard, but really I couldn't afford those big name universities anyways; and just so you know some of those big name universities offer distance aka online degrees.)

So for all you people who think online education is a crock of crap, I suggest you do your research, what you find may be very different than what you think.

How's that for an IIII'mmmmm baaaaaccckkkk post?

Farewell...For Now

2010-05-25T15:16:00.005-05:00

For the last few weeks I’ve written and re-written about a dozen farewell posts. None of which were to my liking. The best thing about hobbies is that you can start or stop whenever you want. No strings attached. I have quite the list of past hobbies-cross-stitch, gymnastics (four years!), biking, knitting (and when I say knitting I really mean getting tangled in the yarn for 20 minutes while Ryan cut me out), gardening (which I would still do if I had a yard), card making, gaming (yes I was a video gamer, I know, I know, I’m a total dork). Few hobbies have lasted the tests of Stephanie’s attention span. So far, reading, scrapbooking and writing are the only ones that have lasted beyond the typical 1-2 year attention span most of my hobbies have been given. In all honesty, blogging has lost its excitement. The fun part that kept me coming back wanting to hit the publish button has been MIA for several months now, and my writing shows it.

For the last two years I’ve posted about my life as a military spouse, the challenges I faced, going back to school in my late 20’s, becoming civilians and moving to a different time zone. I’ve posted about my family, my friends, my marriage, my fears, my dreams, my craziness that drives me insane (I assure you its possible), school, my career, and jobs in between. It was about four months ago that blogging started to become more of a chore than an outlet to express myself. There were weeks that I struggled just to get out those two posts a week. It was when I found that I actually chose to do homework over blogging that I realized holy crap, I think my blogging phase is done.

I thought surely I can’t leave those few people that loyally read my blog every week (mom) hanging. I mean seriously, I have my baby sisters graduation this weekend, my sisters bridal shower that I’m throwing for her next month and her wedding in August. I’ll be finishing my degree this year and I still don’t know if I’m going to join the Air Force or not, and kids are right around the corner! Surely I’ll have TONS to blog about, crazy stories to tell, and memories to share. That, my faithful blogger buds is why I am not saying goodbye, but taking a blogging break. I’m sure I’ll be back, but I don’t know when. Stay plugged in, ya never know when I might pop up ready to tackle the blogosphere again. Until then, enjoy your summer, and I’ll see you soon.

Steph

Kids or the Air Force?

2010-05-20T18:51:00.005-05:00

Lately, and when I say lately I mean for the last year and a half, I've been going back and forth with a decision. For those of you that don't know me super well, I don't make major decisions quickly or easily. Tattoos, I have three, after I picked out what I wanted for each one I waited about a year before I actually got it, just to make sure...they are permanent ya know. When Ryan proposed I told him I wanted to be engaged at least a year, just to make sure. (Give me a break we had only been dating, long distance mind you, for nine months.) When we bought our first house I had already been scoping out neighborhoods a year in advance. My biological time clock started ticking six months ago and we haven't started "trying" yet. I want to make sure that the ticking doesn't stop...that's all. I don't take large decision-making lightly. I analyze every tiny, intricate piece of the puzzle. It drives my husband nuts. This decision is HUGE. Hell I've been contemplating it for a year and a half, that's gotta say something.

It started when Ryan was deployed and we found out that he was getting out at higher tenure. Growing up we never really had financial stability, we had health insurance in spurts and never when we really needed it, and my parents will more than likely work for the rest of their lives with no retirement. At the time, saying goodbye to the military meant saying goodbye to financial stability, saying goodbye to our kick-ass health care, and saying goodbye to a guaranteed pension plan. Ryan, being a nuke, couldn't cross-rate or join a different branch. Once a nuke gets out, that's it for your military career unless you join the reserves, and you don't get 1/2 the benefits with the reserves.

I did some research and was seriously looking at joining the Air Force. You can have your education paid for, amazing medical benefits, the option to serve overseas (depending on your rank and job), the pride of serving your country (which to me would be worth it regardless of the other benefits); you can say that you are part of something big, something important, something that matters. I talked to a lot of people, airmen, sailors and soldiers. It was the airmen that really grabbed me. Each and every one of them loved it, they all said it was the best decision they ever made, and that they wouldn't get out until they were kicked out in umpty-ump years. The soldiers were a bit mixed in the feelings of the Army and all the sailors told me I was an idiot for thinking of joining. I talked to the girls, and I still remember what each of them said. Alison said "Really?" Tiffany said it made complete sense and that she thought I would do well in the military. Marina said "DO IT!" Ryan wasn't as thrilled, he said he would support me, but you know when your life partner isn't super excited about something. I did some more research and found the qualifications for being an officer. Basically it came down to finishing my degree. I put the Air Force on hold. I decided that I only wanted to join if I could be an officer. The pay is better and there's more career opportunities. Shortly after that Ryan got the job here in Louisiana. We packed up and moved. My dreams of the Air Force moved with me.

The plan, in my head, was to finish my degree and talk to Ryan again about joining the Air Force. I wasn't planning on my biological time clock to start ticking six months ago. Now I'm not sure what I want. The Air Force topic came up again last night. Apparently Ryan didn't know I was so serious about it. When he was less than thrilled about it the first time I mentioned it, I let it go. He didn't realize the desire was still there. He mentioned using his MGI bill to go to school while I was in the AF. As we talked more about it I was excited, but the thought of kids still hung in the back of my mind. I'm not going to do well having kids and then leaving them to deploy. Some billets don't allow you to take your family and you could be gone for a year. I could miss firsts, first steps, first birthdays, first driving lessons, their prom, their graduation. I don't want to miss any of those things!

Do I want kids or do I want to serve my country as an airman? I realize people do this all the time, and I know plenty of people who are in the military with kids. I look at those people with admiration. Not everyone can do that. I don't know if I could. During Ryan's second deployment I hung out a lot with this girl named Annie (you may have seen her leave comments every now and then). Her husband was stationed on the same ship as Ryan, he and Ryan were friends, they had two little boys. I remember their oldest son, he was maybe five years old at the time, crying because he missed his dad. It broke my heart. Deployments are so hard on kids, much more so than I realized before I saw Cody sobbing. Annie tried to comfort him with tears in her eyes. I can only imagine how helpless she probably felt. There's nothing she could do, she couldn't call her husband and say, "Hey ya mind coming home for dinner tonight, the kids miss you." That's not an option in the military.

My friend Jen, I went to high school with her, she joined the Air Force our sophomore year of college. She has two babies, a year apart, she hasn't had to do a deployment away from them yet. She said herself, that she has no choice it's her duty to go, but it will rip her apart and her kids and husband will have a hard time. Do I want to do that to my future kids, just so that I can live out a dream of mine? Ryan and I can provide a decent living for our kids without the military. I guess my dream of the Air Force is selfish at this point. I guess this all comes down to what I want more. I couldn't do both, I couldn't leave my kids for months on end. This isn't exactly the same decision as-do I want to be a stay-at-home mom or a career mom working 9-5 at the office.

Do I want to be an airman or a mommy?

Random Ramblings...

2010-05-19T14:10:00.002-05:00

Ugh, this whole recycling thing is a pain in the ass. How horrible would I feel if I just said screw it and started throwing away my recyclables?

I feel like I should start going back to church...I know...WEIRD.

I went through our Netflix list and rearranged the movies. All movies with a plot that make me have to think, are now last on the list. I do enough thinking, when I'm watching movies I'd rather just stare at the screen with my mouth open.

I purchased life insurance the other day. I have student loans. If something happens and I die, those student loans would fall on Ryan. How crappy would that be? Not only is he losing his wife, and her income, but now he's gotta pay for loans that he didn't even earn.

I caught myself looking up nurseries on Google last weekend. Not garden nurseries, baby nurseries.

Ryan said it's crappy that I would go to a titty bar without him. Uuhh, call me crazy but I really have no desire to see my husband oogling other women's boobs.

No mom I didn't go to a titty bar. It's all hypothetical and it started with a conversation about cartoons...oh never mind.

Is it just me or does the 8-hour work day really feel like an 8-week work day?

I look forward to when I have time to read for fun. Right now I'm reading about economic forecasting theory...it's about as exciting as death...as most textbooks are.

WHAT?!?!

2010-05-14T18:59:00.002-05:00

So, I open up the Internet and what do I find...Heroes has been canceled. Heroes, THE best "supernatural" TV show since Smallville has gone down hill, has been canceled. AND we never got to know what happened! Did Silar stay good or did he go evil again? What about Noah and his blonde partner chick? What about Claire, she totally jumped off that building and cracked her bones back together in front of that news crew. What about Peter and the deaf chick? He never did get all his powers back, and she was finally figuring out who she was!

UGH, what the heck is wrong with NBC? Apparently due to fewer viewers, less than 5 million, oh darn, and that time slot being needed for other new shows, they kicked my beloved TV show to the curb. Dude, unless these new shows have a bad-ass, sweet-hearted, smoking Italian with super powers and Ali Larter naked dripping wet, it's just not gonna cut it.

*Sigh* I guess I'll just have to be happy with Smallville. I've been watching that show since it started nine years ago. I know, I know, it's totally gotten strange, but I'm vested at this point. Nine years of my life has been spent watching Tom Welling swoop in and save the day, I can't let those nine years go to waste, I might as well see it through. Hopefully "through" will be soon. At least salvage the show with some decency.

Speaking of supernatural shows, Vampire Diaries turned out to be pretty good. I was afraid it would end up being really teeny boppery and annoying. Not so much, I've become quite a fan. Anybody seen the finale? It's gonna kill me to wait months to see what happens, especially now that a certain someone is in the picture.

Ok I'm done rambling. NBC sucks, Heroes is gone, Smallville needs to wrap it up and Vampire Diaries is hot. There ya have it, my professional TV opinion.

New Orleans...With Pictures!

2010-05-09T15:59:00.023-05:00

Ryan and I have gone to New Orleans a few times since we moved to Baton Rouge six months ago. We really like New Orleans, it's a bummer we live 45 minutes away, but both my job and the majority of Ryan's jobs are in Baton Rouge, so here we stay. I actually remembered my camera this trip, so I have pictures for you guys.

We were surprised that it wasn't more crowded downtown, since it's Mother's Day weekend. We could actually walk around without bumping into people, which is nearly impossible in Charleston on a holiday weekend. The weather was perfect, sunny with a breeze. AND we stopped at Cafe DuMonde this time for beignets (french donuts). People down here RAVE over beignets. They're good don't get me wrong, but I guess I'm just an American girl...I thought Dunkin' Donuts raspberry filled donuts were better. *Shrug* What can you do?

I think the reason why I like New Orleans so much is because of all the culture there. You have people painting on the side of the street, and "mom n' pop" jazz bands playing in the middle of the street. Not to mention the beautiful architecture. New Orleans is a bit rundown, and if you pay attention you can find the stores and condos that were abandoned after Katrina. I think that's why I like it, the city shows it's history, like it has a story to tell. I know I compare New Orleans downtown to Charleston's downtown a lot, just bear with me. Charleston is beautiful. All the buildings, the cobblestone roads, the picket fences, the pier, everything is so perfectly maintained, you're almost afraid to touch anything. It's so obvious that Charlestonians have a lot of pride in their city. It's almost too perfect, like it was built yesterday, not during the colonial days. New Orleans has that historical worn in look.

My favorite area is by St. Louis cathedral. That whole area is kind of open, you'll see local artists painting, tarot card readers, psychics, palm readers, and drag queens posing hoping you'll put money in their sequined hat.

There are so many different shops in New Orleans. You have your regular tourist shops that sell t-shirts, mardi gras masks, and mardi-gras beads, antique/junk shops, furniture stores, clothing stores, jewelry stores, and all of them are original to New Orleans. You won't find Prada, Coach, Liz Claiborne, Tommy Hilfiger, none of that. You have super fancy shops...

And not so fancy shops...

The outdoor market area...I originally compared it to Charleston's marketplace on Market St., but as we continued to walk it changed from a market place, to a farmer's market, to this awesome outdoor eatery area. Ryan said that you see these eatery places in Europe all the time...

Biker bars...notice the green shutters on the building to the left of the bar, how cool!

And people dressed up like robots, actually moving like a robot to robot music...

Bands playing in the streets...

Then there's the beautiful wrought iron balconies...

Then there's the jazz cafes, Harrah's, and the trillions of bars. If there's one thing that Louisiana knows how to do it's party. New Orleans is truly one of a kind city. I'm glad I have the opportunity to experience it!

Lots Of Good and Some Bad

2010-05-07T15:33:00.004-05:00

The company I’m with has officially made me one of their permanent employees, which is fantastic, because I REALLY need to start accruing vacation and sick time. I also got a raise, which is also fantastic. That’s my second raise since I started working here 3.5 months ago.

I found out that if you have a certain GPA, the university I’m going to allows their students to triple up on classes. For example, full time for an online student is 2 classes at a time since each term/semester only lasts 8 weeks. It’s the equivalent of taking 4 classes on campus each 3 month semester. Well, if your GPA is high enough you’re allowed to take up to online classes at a time. Once my finance and economics classes are done, I’ll only have electives left and I’ll be doing my damndest to triple up on classes so that I can finish early. So, that’s good news.

Ryan and I are going to New Orleans tomorrow, and a crawfish boil on Sunday. Stay tuned for pictures.

Ryan and I are going to Charleston, SC in 3 weeks for my baby sister’s high school graduation. I miss my family A LOT, I can’t wait to see them. As an added bonus, Alison and Hunter were just transferred to Charleston, so I’ll get to see them too!

Now for the bad news. It’s not really bad…well it is bad, but it’s not coming as a surprise. The foreclosure auction date for the VA house is on Tues. I pulled up my credit report just to see the damage and to see what I’m working with…it’s extensive, and my score will drop again after the foreclosure date…or so I’m told. The good news is my company pulled my credit score (I’m in accounting it’s regular practice) and they didn’t say anything about it, it didn’t hinder the perm process at all. So here’s hoping that I can get our scores back up in the next few years.

Fun Jobs

2010-05-04T21:11:00.004-05:00

Marina and I were discussing fun jobs the other day. I haven't had the most fun jobs, although Ryan says that selling women's underwear and measuring boobs all day sounds pretty fun to him. Working at a bookstore, coffee shop, delivering flowers, wedding planner, puppy walker (not adult dog walker, just puppies...yes we discriminate), they all sound super fun. Of course all of these jobs pay crap. Isn't that how it usually goes? If it's somewhat enjoyable at all you end up living in the city park because you make crap for pay. The stressful and in Marina's words, soulless, jobs are the ones that pay all the money. Then you end up spending all that money on a shrink and antidepressants. You end up having no time to even read books or drink coffee because all you do is work your soulless job. Doesn't that sound like gobs of fun?

What if you had a chance to work one of those super fun jobs...would you take it, knowing you'd make no money? I don't know if I would. I enjoy having financial security, and financial independence from credit cards and banks too much.

Dinner Theatre and a Textbook

2010-04-29T21:44:00.006-05:00

*The setting is a dark condo with a single light on in the dining room. Textbooks spill out from an open corduroy messenger bag onto the table, under a bright light. The only sound is the air conditioner (I'm in Louisiana it's hot). I approach the table...cautiously...

"So Calculus...we meet again. I was surprised to see you when I opened up my economics textbook, although I probably shouldn't have been. You've been flanking me for the past three months now, waiting for the day to make my life miserable."

*I lean in to the textbook laying open on the table, displaying various symbols and letters.

"You have nothing to say? Of course not, you need not say anything, I won the last battle, final grade of B+ in my last class that YOU dominated.

*I turn from the table, arms folded.

"And I will win the war."

*I spun back around to the table, hands on my hips, eyes narrowed to page 47.

"So give me your best shot Calculus, because I will win dammit! The victory I had over you may have been one battle in a series of many, but mark my words you will not stand in the way of my diploma WITH HONORS!"

Right about that time I turned around to find Ryan standing in the kitchen, left eyebrow raised.

"Oh hey babe, I was just...ya know...giving my textbooks a good talking to. Lettin' um know who's boss n' all."

He continues to look at me, eyebrow raised. "Right. So uh, are they defending themselves?"

I clasp my hands together in front of me, and slowly shake my head. "Um, no, I think they realize that right now is listening time."

He slowly nods, "Mmhmm, baby are you are sure you're getting enough sleep?"

True story...unfortunately.

How To Tell If You're Leaving Your 20's

2010-04-27T08:07:00.011-05:00

Drunk people start to annoy you rather than provide entertainment.

You'd rather sit at home watching a movie or reading a book than go out to clubs or bars.

You spend more than five minutes looking at the statement from your 401k account.

You have a 401k account.

You want to have kids...like now. You never wanted kids before.

You need more than five hours sleep at night, and a half a cup of coffee to make it through the day.

You can no longer just go for a jog, knowing you haven't jogged in about four months.

During your jog, you stop every two minutes to catch your breath and make sure you're not having a heart attack.

The thought of crashing on someones couch or floor, during a road trip or vacation makes you cringe to the point where you consider paying for a hotel room, knowing your mom would be crushed if you didn't stay at the house.

When you do sleep on someones couch or floor your back is sore the next day.

You can no longer pull an all-nighter and be awake for the majority of the next day.

Fast food makes you want to vomit.

Fast food does make you vomit.

You can no longer live off a diet that consists of Doritos, pizza and beer.

I came to the realization yesterday that I'm 27, I'll be 28 this year. After much wailing and gnashing of teeth, I decided that I have about 2.5 years left to enjoy being in my 20's, then off I trudge up the hill of the 30's and 40's before I hit my "golden years". I got to thinking (I know, watch out), have I accomplished all I wanted in my 20's? Have I fulfilled all I wanted to do in my 20's? You can't go back, once your 20's are gone, that's it. So, what is it that people DO in their 20's? They go to college, they start a career, maybe they're in a serious relationship, maybe have a kid, party a lot, make mistakes. People say that your 20's are for living it up before you have to get serious about life, this is when you can make mistakes and still have time to bounce back. I went to college, I started a career, I'm married, although shortly lived I did go through my party phase, I did make mistakes. I did or am doing all those things, don't get me wrong I had fun and learned some valuable lessons, but I'm completely fine with leaving it all behind. So what is it about your 20's that is so awesome, that your 30's makes people want to sob in despair?

Age is just a number right? I have zero desire to go to clubs and bars, I would rather hang out at our house or a friends house with a beer. Drunken college students truly are beyond annoying, I should know I live next to LSU's campus. I was pretty pissed to see that my 401k decreased by $100...damn stock market. I need at least seven hours of sleep otherwise forget it. I used to be able to pull all-nighters and be at my biology lab at 7am no problemo, that is no longer the case. I love my family to death, but I'll be honest here, the fact that we have no where to sleep is extremely annoying. The beanbag chair on the floor isn't exactly comfy. Fast food and I haven't gotten along since I was 24.

Maybe your 20's are so glorious because your footloose and fancy free. You only have to worry about yourself, no spouse, no kids. Maybe people have the best memories from their 20's, their college days, and when they met their significant other. Maybe when you're 20 you don't have to work 8-hour days, workout for 2-hours a day to maintain a toned physique, and worry about paying a stack of bills on time. I think for most 20-year-olds, the most they have to pay for is a cell phone bill and car gas. Less responsibility, and more time to enjoy life. Your 20's is the last time you get that opportunity before you realize life has crept up on you and it's time to be an adult, get a job and pay taxes and crap.

I'm ok with being in my late 20's, and leaving the "glory days" behind. I may not be able to eat what I want, when I want and have 6-pack abs without having to do a single crunch. I may need more sleep on a regular basis to function well. I may be more concerned with my future than I was five years ago. Isn't that's how it should be? At least in my mind, that's how it should be. Being closer to your 30's isn't so bad. If being closer to your 30's means less hangovers and more naps, I'm all in!

Earth Day

2010-04-22T15:58:00.003-05:00

I am a big-time environmentalist. I’m all for reduce, re-use, recycle. Ask anybody I’ve worked with, lived with, or had some sort of regular contact with and they’ll tell you, “Steph’s all about trying to save the planet.” I don’t have a hybrid vehicle, and I have Styrofoam plates in my cabinet (I know, for shame!), but I do what I can.

I reduce. I know I’ve stated before that I go through our crap and purge like every quarter. I don’t just toss everything, I take it to Goodwill. I may not use this desk organizer anymore, but somebody else might. I may not be able to fit into these size 2 jeans anymore, but somebody else might. I may be out of my leopard print phase and no longer want to decorate my house to resemble Africa, but somebody else might.

I re-use. Plastic bags from the grocery store make great bathroom trash can liners, or Thor poopie bags. I use travel mugs for my coffee versus paper or Styrofoam cups. When we go out to eat, some places give you a hard plastic cup to drink out of. I keep those, take them home and wash them. We have like twelve Moe’s Southwest Grill cups at the house! When I do the check-run at work, I have to cut stacks of paper in half so that the payments fit in the file. I keep the other portion of that paper and use it as a notepad. When bills come in to be paid at work, I use the envelopes they provide instead of using our own. When I lived near Alison we would swap out clothes. At 5’7” she towers over my 5’2” frame, but we could wear the same tops. Why buy clothes, when you can raid your friend’s closets!?!?

I recycle. Recycling in Virginia was beyond easy. You put all your recyclables in the blue bucket, and put it at the curb with your trash. Done. In Louisiana it’s not that easy. Recycle trucks only make certain routes, and they don’t come to apartments or condos. I have a bucket that I store my recyclables in, and every third Saturday I take it to that one random parking lot where the recycle people are from 9am-12pm and they take my recyclables. More effort on my part, but I feel much better doing that than tossing plastic jugs and magazines in the trash.

I don’t have a yard or a garden anymore so no more flower beds to tend. I do however have houseplants. If we ever have a carbon dioxide abundance, my house will have plenty of oxygen! I like my living space to look organic…and artsy, but that’s another post. Now that Louisiana and I aren’t at odds and I’m starting to decorate, maybe I’ll post some condo pictures on here. I’m getting off topic…

Today is Earth Day, do something good for your planet. You live here, you don’t have the option to live elsewhere. NASA is working on that, but as of right now Earth is it for us. Yes, one cigarette butt DOES make a difference. So does one empty soda bottle, and one flyer that fell out of your mailbox that you never picked up. Chances are it will be my dog who will think that one cigarette butt is something to eat and hack up a lung while he's chocking on it, just cuz you're too lazy and inconsiderate to toss it in the dumpster.

Imagine if no one cared? Imagine if people never cleaned up after themselves, or recycled, or re-used anything? Imagine if people never volunteered to clean up the bay, or highways? Well, some people don't have a choice, but some people, like myself, volunteer to clean our planet. If no one cared, or cleaned up after themselves it would look like New Orleans after Mardi Gras 24-7, and trust me, that's not pretty. It's a trash heap. So do your part, you live here too ya know.

Life, Math and Other Ramblings

2010-04-19T21:43:00.004-05:00

I'm sure you guys have noticed my lack of attendance, and lackluster blogging. My bad. Other than mine and Ryan's crawfish excursion and movie outing this past weekend, I've pretty much become a hermit with my nose in my textbooks. This is the last week for this math class, the LAST math class that I need for my degree. I was busy celebrating the joy of no longer getting my ass kicked by the world of calculus, when I pulled up the syllabus for the economics class I'm taking starting Monday. Week one...differential calculus. My fist held in the sky, "DAMN!" This being said, I more than likely will continue my sporadic posting.

On a different topic, I've decided to no longer blame God for my problems. I've decided to blame the Universe instead. Just in case God's listening I don't wanna piss him off anymore than I probably already do.

I had a hard time zipping up my size 4 pants this morning. After my freak out frenzy of weighing myself, taking measurements and fat percentage counts I've decided I need to start working out again. Reason number two for my sporadic posting.

I think I'm getting accustomed to Louisiana. I have a desire to decorate the condo.

Louisiana makes recycling very difficult, but I think I've found a way to recycle without having to pay fees or drive to five different recycling centers if I have recyclables other than paper.

Ryan and I saw Kick-Ass on Sunday. I thought it would be a cheesy teen flick, nope it was actually really good.

Well that's all I got guys. I know, my thoughts are so deep and intriguing, I exhaust myself. Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to bed I go. Sleep deprivation at it's best.

Crawfish

2010-04-18T20:03:00.008-05:00

Ryan and I went to our first crawfish boil yesterday. Earlier in the week Ginger came into my office/room missing a wall and asked what Ryan and I were doing this weekend. My response was the usual, chores, errands and school. She said her sister was having a crawfish boil and everyone wanted us to come. Ryan and I have never had crawfish before and we're totally into trying new foods, so it took me about 2 nano-seconds to say SURE.

I have never even seen a crawfish, I originally thought they resembled a lobster. They do, kinda, except they are much much smaller. Ginger told me that one person can eat about 5lbs. of crawfish. I sat there completely puzzled. Was that a couple crawfish or just one ginormous crawfish? Crawfish are fairly small, so it's actually a small pile of them that equals 5lbs.

When I got to Ginger's sisters house they had the crawfish in a huge pot with water, spices, vegetables and chicken. Apparently you don't buy crawfish at a store, you catch them yourself...in the bayou. Crawfish eat "beef melt" and you catch them with that. Some use traps, some use nets, but all use this beef melt stuff as bait. *Shrug* I don't know, this is just what they tell me.

The crawfish are alive until you put them into the boiling water, you want the meat as fresh as possible. Kinda like cooking a lobster. Newspaper is laid out on the table, and when the crawfish are done cooking and cooling, the whole pot is dumped out on the table and everyone digs in.

On the way out to the bayou I was telling Ryan I was concerned about having to take them apart to eat them. When you eat lobster, they don't bring out the whole lobster for you to pull apart and eat, you just get the tail. When you eat crab legs, they don't bring out the whole crab, just the legs and you have to crack them apart to get to the meat. You are given the crawfish as a whole crustacean. Eyes, antennae, pincher's, everything is still all attached and you disassemble it. I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to do it with it "looking" at me. Ginger showed us how to pull it apart, and as soon as I ate that crawfish it no longer was a tiny creature that lived in the bayou, it was dinner, and it was damn good. I looked at Ginger as the hit spicy meat melted in my mouth and started reaching for the closest crawfish on the table. Who knew these tiny insect looking things could be so yummy?!?!

Ryan and I ate A LOT of crawfish and we became fans of these crawfish boil things. Louisiana may be the poorest state in the country, it may have A LOT of ghetto, have some of the worst crime rates in the country, and education be absolutely terrible, but hot damn the food down here is amazing and the people are some of the greatest I've ever met!

MIA, Toothpaste and Traveling

2010-04-12T11:02:00.005-05:00

I've been MIA for a bit. There was a death in Ryan's family, so last weekend was a lot of rushing, driving and feeling awkward. Ryan's family is complicated, we won't get into it. Even after I explain, it still won't make any sense. Before the weekend, there was school. This math class is almost done, and it's truly kicking my ass, so I'm counting down the days.

Other than work, school and Grandma Ann's death (RIP) not a lot has been going on. I did however mistake my travel tube of toothpaste for eye cream on Saturday. My eyes are now minty fresh. I got to see my nephew, he's the cutest thing ever. Got to see my sister-in-law all dressed up for prom. The dresses are a bit showy these days, but it's prom and she's a good girl so I suppose I should tranquilize the protective older sister instinct to wrap her in a parka three sizes too big.

Ryan and I realized we're getting old. I remember in our early twenties an eight hour road trip one way for a three day weekend was nothing. Four hours sleep, PUH, no problemo. When Ryan was deployed I used to drive back to Charleston from Virginia, by myself, for a long weekend all the time. Dude not anymore, Ryan and I were exhausted all weekend, and we're still tired. Our backs hurt when we finally got back to Louisiana. Our backs never hurt before. We have to make three trips to Charleston this summer for family stuff. That's a 12-hour drive one way, 24 hours in the car. THREE trips in three months. AND, due to my company being the sticklers they are on time off, we have to make that 12-hour drive one way in a three day weekend. Family is gonna have to start visiting us dude, this is getting exhausting. Every Thanksgiving, every Christmas we travel to see family. They're gonna have to start pulling some slack here. We can't travel like this when we have a baby. We're pooped just traveling with ourselves and Thor! After August, unless someones dying or having a baby forget it, you'll have to get a webcam, we'll skype, the most traveling involved there is to the nearest outlet.

Some of the Best Things About Spring

2010-04-03T09:22:00.001-05:00

Easter is practically here, this time of year makes me think of Jesus and cadbury eggs commercials. Since I typically avoid the topics of religion and politics, and see no reason as to why I should succomb you to my heinous and often confusing views of either topic, and talking about various animals wearing rabbit ears...well, I'll just move on...

Growing up in NY state, spring is typically full of nothing but TONS of rain and mud. It's still pretty cold up there, and I remember being a kid staring out the windows and driving my mom crazy with my cabin fever. Spring in South Carolina is beautiful. TOTALLY different than NY, we all went through some climate shock when we first moved. Right around the end of March/beginning of April, the trees start budding, and flowers are everywhere. I remember the first time I saw Wisteria (the flower, not the lane), it's absolutely beautiful. They don't have anything like that up north, they have lilacs and daisies, no wisteria. My parent's backyard is full of multi-colored azaleas, deep blue hydrangeas, bright pink camelia's and sweet-smelling confederate jasmine, TOTAL opposite of the lakes that would accumlate in our half frozen backyard up north around this time of year. Virginia is full of dogwoods and red bud trees, not nearly as beautiful as Charleston in the spring, but more colorful than NY! I haven't quite figured Louisiana out yet. You don't really see many flowers, you might see a flowering bush but that's about it, at least in Baton Rouge. Most of the trees here have leaves now, or at least half leaves, some haven't opened up all the way yet. There's lots of green here, not nearly as colorful as South Carolina in the spring. Louisiana may not have the flowers, but from here until Christmas there's a festival every weekend! They sure do love to party down here.

No matter what part of the country I'm living in, nothing beats the smell of fresh cut grass, and being able to roll my window down without developing icicles as earrings. The wider range of produce in the grocery store doesn't hurt either. I was super stoked yesterday to find kiwi that wasn't rock hard! Eh, what can I say, it's the little things. Hope everyone has a good Easter. Me, I'll be chillaxin' with Ginger and her family down by the bayou.

Household Duties

2010-03-31T11:06:00.002-05:00

It is well known in the company I work for that the purchasing guys like to bust chops. They LOVE to pick on people, which is fine. They however, were a tad taken back when I started busting chops back. Day one the senior purchasing guy started with me, I fired right back. Apparently the other women in the office don’t pick back, they just laugh it off. So, every day it’s a chops busting competition. Today started like every other. One of the guys was talking about how his wife makes him help her clean and how it’s total crap. I responded with, “You help make the mess, yes? You should help clean it up.” The other purchasing guy went on to say that women have always done housework since our country started and that’s the way it should be. His wife works full time and baby-sits the grandkids, and he doesn’t lift a finger in terms of housework. Ok, housework is a very heated topic with me. I feel that if both parties work full time, household duties should be split 50/50. If someone works only part-time or doesn’t work then the household duties should fall on them; the housework becomes their job. Women no longer sit and churn butter for hours, have 30 kids (usually), spend all day cooking, and scrub the floor with toothbrushes. It’s called progress, women’s right to work, Country Crock butter spread and Swiffer Wet Jets. Yes, back then that’s all women did was cook, clean and make babies, but it’s 2010 and women work, go to school, run companies, have babies, the men can at least help with the cooking and cleaning. And men wonder why women are exhausted and cranky most of the time. You fill our love bank with deposits and we’re more than willing to spend a little on you, if you get my drift.

I looked at purchasing guy #1 and said, “Well, I hope you appreciate all your wife does for you. Working from home full time, baby-sitting grandkids all day, cooking, cleaning, day in day out is a lot. I, however, prefer to be Ryan’s wife not his mommy. Maybe back then marriage was more of a slaveship (new word), but I think marriage should be more of a partnership.” Purchasing guy #2 left and said I was not allowed to meet his wife. Purchasing guy #1 said that I needed to be re-trained. I keep forgetting I’m in the south, and they do things all kinds of old-fashioned here. What do you guys think? Should household duties be split down the middle?

Incredible Purchase

2010-03-28T13:31:00.011-05:00

Remember when I mentioned the incredible purchase Ryan and I made weeks ago? WELLLL…that incredible purchase was a new couch. The couch we had was given to Ryan and I 6yrs. ago when we got married. My parents bought that furniture set (couch and loveseat) when I was 6 or 7, so our couch was about 20 years old. My parents most definitely got their money’s worth. When we got Thor, he claimed the loveseat; we call it Thor’s couch. The actual couch though, called the people couch, was getting pretty bad. Right around August of 2009 we noticed that the lining under the cushions was getting holes in it and the cushions were starting to sink down into the couch. Come October, when we moved to Louisiana, the lining was completely ripped out of the middle of the couch, and the springs were showing through. You couldn’t sit in the middle of the couch because you would fall completely through to the floor. Ryan would sit on one end, I would sit on the other, and we would just deal with the springs poking us in the butt.

We finally decided that we would put a little money aside for a new couch. I did some internet shopping, window shopping, flyer browsing to see how much a new couch would cost. A new couch costs around $800-$1200. I called my mom, I know they only spent $700 for their couch, BUT that was 6 years ago. She said they went to a closeout dealer. There are no furniture wholesale/closeout places in Baton Rouge, or New Orleans. Super. SO, I went on Craig’s List. We have a dog, and hopefully will be adding humans to our family in the next year or two, I REALLY didn’t want to spend $1,000 on a couch that’s gonna get animal fur, and baby mess on it. Unless you want a couch that needs to be reupholstered (no clue how you would do that), one with floral print (I’m 27, not 97), a wooden couch (WTF), or one missing cushions, I was not going to find a gently used couch off Craig’s List. Ryan and I decided to keep watching Craig’s List, maybe a decent sofa would be added.

I talked to Ginger (the other accountant at work) the next day about our dilemma. She gave me the name and phone number of a furniture store near the bayou. She said they had really great deals, and if I couldn’t find anything there to try the big furniture store by the mall, usually you can haggle with the mall store. That next weekend, Ryan and I got in the car and headed to the bayou. First off, the neighborhoods out there are beautiful, but they have nothing out there except for train tracks, casino's (called daquiri stores), and a furniture store. I was totally expecting to see this little mom and pop place with wooden rocking chairs out front and pots full of daisies. When we pulled up, it looked like a store you’d see in a big city, columns out front, it was nice. We got out and Ryan said, “This looks promising.” Walked in, and they had full rooms set up, like a showcase, of course all the expensive stuff was in the front, but the deeper we got in the store, the better deals we found. Reclining chairs for $125, loveseats for $250, BRAND NEW. I couldn’t believe it. They even had a wide selection of fabrics and colors! Our budget was $800; we walked out of there with a slip for a brand new couch for $450 including taxes and the delivery fee. We did end up going to the mall store just to compare, they didn’t even come close to the deals that Dalbor’s Furniture had. Our couch was delivered Thursday and it's awesome. No more springs poking us in the butt, and Ryan and I can actually sit next to each other, without falling through to the floor!

I Don't Speak The Language

2010-03-25T09:34:00.002-05:00

Sometimes it’s difficult to understand people down here. Ginger, the other accountant I work with has lived in Louisiana her entire life (she’s in her 40’s), today she mentioned that she needed toner and paper. She gave me a confused look when I asked her why she needed toilet paper for her office.

Ginger: “Girl, I need to restock my toner and paper today.”
Me: “In your office?”
Ginger: “Yeah, I’m almost out.”
Me: "...why do you need toilet paper in your office?”
Ginger: “Oh, no girl, I said tonna and pappa. Not toilet paper!”
Me: “Oooohhhh.” LOL

I lived in South Carolina for five years, not the upper half by Columbia, I lived in Charleston by Georgia and I don't remember people being this hard to understand.
A few weeks ago Ryan and I went to a furniture store WAY out in the country. We had a very strict budget, and Ginger told me of this great place out near the bayou that had really good deals. Took us 30 minutes to get there and it was worth it. They had amazing deals. Anyways, the store owner had such a thick drawl I really had to pay attention otherwise I didn't have the slightest clue what the heck he was saying. He asked where we were from; he said we didn’t sound like we were from the bayou. We answered, “Oh, yeah, we’re not from around here.” His response, “Oh WOW, ya’ll from Nawlins?” Apparently, “not from around here” means we’re from New Orleans. He said it like he was so amazed, like we were from Sweden or something.

Yesterday I called Mobile, Alabama, mobile, as in the gas station-mobile. Apparently, that’s not how you say it, you say it mobiel, as in emphasis on the “I”. Like a babies mobile. Good grief. It's like learning a whole new language.

I Have A Dream

2010-03-22T20:51:00.001-05:00

Is it the accomplishment of a dream or the process of the dreaming that encourages people? After you've accomplished a dream, you move on to another dream, so is it the actual dreaming, or the dream coming true that lures people in? Perhaps the dream coming true is the process? Maybe the whole thing from conception to completion is the process and that's what everyone loves.

My dad was always a big dreamer. He says that dreaming is what helps maintain his sanity. The prospect of having his dreams come true is what makes him happy. My sisters and I aren't nearly the dreamers that my dad is, we're more like my mom, realists. Sure, being a Vegas showgirl sounds fun and exciting, but it's better to spend time, money and resources on something more realistic-like paying bills and working on the career that you've had for the past nine years. Don't get me wrong, I dream, I have a list full of dreams I'd like to accomplish, but for me I don't think it's the process that makes me happy, it's the accomplishment. It's being in that moment when you realize your dream has come true. Owning my own home was a dream I had. Unlocking the door of the house and setting foot into our first home we owned was the most riveting feeling; much more so than looking at houses or getting approved by the bank for the loan.

Lately I've been contemplating the American dream. You ask different people what the American dream is and they all answer differently. Some will say freedom from tyranny. Some say that in America you can drive the car you want, live in the city you want, purchase the house you want, marry who you want, have as many kids of either gender that you want. Have you noticed that each person answers that question based on their dreams, based on their own personal understanding of what they want. For my sister it's having the option to work in the field that she chooses. For Ryan it's the opportunity to better yourself. No matter who you are or what background you come from you can change who you are and better your life. For me, the American dream is being able to have the dreams I want and having the option to pursue those dreams. No matter how random, if they connect with each other or not, if they are realistic or not, I have the option to pursue them if I so choose. What is the American dream for you?

Spring Cleaning

2010-03-21T18:19:00.004-05:00

This past Saturday was the first day of spring. Spring cleaning isn't a once a year thing for me. I despise clutter of any sort, so our closets, drawers and storage "areas" are sorted through about every 3-6 months. Our living quarters are tighter now, so clutter can be collected easier and faster, needless to say I've become the hoarding Nazi. I love my husband, but I'll be honest and say it how it is, he's a slob. I think he confuses hoarding and laziness with being sentimental towards...crap. I'm on his case about cleaning up after himself, I'm fairly certain I drive him crazy with it, but until he learns that I'm not his housekeeper he will continue to be bitched at, that's how I see it and you can't convince me otherwise...I promise, some have tried.

On Friday, I cleaned out my office at the new job. TONS of crap, good lord these people are worse than my husband when it comes to saving random things. I found files from 2003! The office got a complete overhaul and in the process I found a file of purchase orders that were not paid on, so much to my dismay I need to research those to find out if we owe these companies money. I learned a valuable lesson, the office hadn't been cleaned out since 2003 for a very good reason-the girls before me were afraid of what they would find. *SIGH*, now I know.

Since the condo didn't really need any thorough cleaning, I decided to clean out another aspect of my life. The electronic aspect. Simplicity is a beautiful thing, simplifying your life can really add to stress relief. A couple years ago I deleted my MySpace and Twitter accounts. It actually freed up a lot of time, getting rid of Twitter and MySpace! Today I decided to go through my favorites list and social network pages, and I have deleted all social network accounts but Facebook and my blog. Went through the blog following list, and cleaned out the blogs I no longer read for whatever reason. I honestly wouldn't mind getting rid of Facebook, but my sisters and all my friends use Facebook to post pics of the babies and they keep it updated with the goings-on in their lives, so I keep it. I did however delete friends though-people that I never talk to, haven't seen since high school, or only talk to because we used to be friends way back when. Really, why are we kidding ourselves, we're not friends anymore and reading your complaints every day is annoying me. Out you go, and I'm sure if you look at this realistically, you feel the same way I do, so enough pretending. Now I just gotta figure out a way to get rid of the people that annoy the hell out of me through Facebook, and will take my booting them out personally...

What things could you simplify or cut out, in your life?

Random Ramblings 3

2010-03-18T21:32:00.015-05:00

Does all the drinking in Ireland cause people to think they see leprachauns?

Why is it the older I get the wiser Dr. Suess becomes?

I found my stamp collection the other day. I have stamps that were $.25. When the hell were they ever only $.25!?!?

Dude seriously, will Heroes EVER come back on TV? DAMN. Are all the actors on a 14 month hiatus or something? Gee whiz.

The color blue has got to be the most amazing color ever, followed closely by purple.

Dear Etsy, I love you.

I'm so glad someone came up with the term, "eclectic". It sounds so much better than "hodgepodge." I much prefer saying my style in "eclectic" rather than saying, "I have no idea what I'm doing, I'm just winging it." Eclectic reminds me of randomness and I love it!

My math professor is taking FOREVER to post our grades on our last math test. It's agonizing. I may die if he doesn't post our grades by Friday night. Just lettin' ya know.

Come to find out, having The Little Mermaid as your favorite Disney movie, isn't so unique. What can I say, we all love Ariel.

I think, I think, *fingers crossed*, we're done with the cold weather here in Louisiana. All the flowering trees are blossoming, YYIIPPEE!

A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes...

2010-03-16T08:30:00.002-05:00

I have a confession. I like Disney. I know, I KNOW, just when you think I'm this badass, Harley lovin', tattoo collectin', rocker chick, I spill the beans on my love for Cinderelly and Ariel. Ok so maybe you never thought of me as badass, whatev, regardless, I do love Disney. Disney movies like The Little Mermaid (my fav), Beauty and the Beast, Princess and the Frog, not that Herbie Loaded bull shit, are some of my favorite movies to watch. When we have kids, dude I hope we have a little girl so I can dress her up like various Disney princesses. I know, my poor future child, being forced to play dress-up with her 30-something-year-old mommy.

This year Disney is doing the Give A Day, Get A Day program. You volunteer a day of service in return for a free ticket to one of their theme parks-Disneyland or Disney World. I'm a big advocate for volunteer work, I've been volunteering since I was 17, and I'm beyond poor, so I jumped at this. Hey, just because I have this ball and chain of a house attached to my hip, who says I can't have ONE day of fun, especially if it comes partially free. Besides, this trip isn't causing us to hold back payment from the evil bank gods, especially since they won't let me make partial payments. I'm not bitter at all, can'tcha tell? I'm getting off topic.

Months ago I went to the website, and signed Ryan and I up as volunteers. We cleaned up after a Mardi Gras parade, and we actually had fun. Ryan found some strange things, plastic penis', a bucket of half eaten chicken, couple condom wrappers. Those four hours of cleaning up beads, beer bottles and half eaten dinners scored us two tickets to the Magic Kingdom.

My birthday is a Saturday this year, I'm taking the Friday before off and heading down to Florida. This of course is not for many many months, but that does not change how excited I am! For an entire day we can forget about all this CRAP and be kids. For a whole day we can believe that dreams truly do come true, just like you did when you were a kid, before you realized how the world really was. For a whole day we can just live and not have a care in the world. We can take pictures standing next to statues of Mickey Mouse and fountains outside of castles. I totally plan on riding space mountain until I throw up.

Roots?

2010-03-14T11:37:00.006-05:00

I work for a small family owned/run business. Not only am I the only one in the entire company from out of state, but I’m the only one not from New Orleans. Last week someone asked me if it was hard being so far from family. I answered, “Not at first, I was happy to move away and start a new chapter with Ryan. It is now though.”

Jackie is getting married, Lauren is getting ready to go to college, I have a nephew now and sometimes I feel like I barely know my siblings-in-laws. I feel like I’m missing out on so much. I feel like I’m missing out on my friend’s lives even. Rosie and Rayne, Tiffany’s and Lisa’s babies are mobile now, Alison and Marina will be having their babies in a matter of months. It’s a total bummer. Ryan and I see family 2-3 times a year, usually around the holidays and that’s it. Alison’s husband just got orders to Charleston, so I’ll be able to see her when I see my family, still only a couple times a year. Same thing with Lisa, she lives about an hour from Ryan’s family, still maybe a couple times a year I see her, if that. Because we only see family twice a year, and our trips are typically crammed into a long holiday weekend, we are usually go go go there isn’t a lot of time to kick back relax and enjoy everyone’s company. Although I really enjoy my new job they are not very giving in terms of time off, this too limits how many times I'll see my family. That’s how it is for a lot of military/ex-military people.

Growing up, we moved around New York state a lot, and eventually moved to South Carolina, but I wonder what it would be like to see your parents still living in the house you were raised in. What it would be like to see one school and know that you spent all your school days there, that you were with the same friends from grade school through high school. When you see the same playground you played on for years, would it bring you down memory lane or would you roll your eyes? Are people actually close to aunts, uncles and cousins? Even when we lived next door to our cousins for those four years we never saw them. Do people who live 15 minutes from family get sick of seeing them all the time and wish they weren't so close?

I am happy we moved a lot, it taught me how to adapt. I would never change that. For a long time I always thought that I would always want to be a “gypsy”, move a lot, experience new places, meet new people. I couldn’t see how anyone would want roots anywhere. Just over a year ago I wrote this post, What's The Deal With Roots. Here I am March 2010 saying that I can see why people would want roots. I will always enjoy traveling, seeing new places, meeting new people, but having roots kinda sounds nice. Having a house and not having to worry about if you’re going to be able to sell it in a few years when you move, having Sunday afternoon BBQ’s with friends and family, not having to worry if your kids will make friends at whatever new school is in the town you're moving to-it sounds so stable, so final, and yes it sounds really nice.

Well hot damn, first I want babies, then I’m pondering having roots...the husband must have slipped me the "adult" pill...

Note To Self

2010-03-10T19:21:00.002-06:00

You cannot survive without coffee. First day being caffeine free...fail. Second day being caffeine free...super fail. Not only did you succeed in tripping up the steps, and punching in the wrong code into your own office four times in a row, locking yourself out and having to ask the operations manager to let you into your own office, but you excelled in stabbing yourself in the eye with your pen...twice, accidentally pushing your calculator off your desk, forgetting your lunch and deleting a crucial spreadsheet. Super fantastic Stephanie. Just face it, you need coffee. It's ok. Most people need something, for you it's coffee. Lack of coffee is your kryptonite. We all have our weaknesses...

Random Tidbits

2010-03-08T12:01:00.006-06:00

Saw Alice in Wonderland yesterday. Ahmazing, loved it. You should go, you'll love it to, and if you don't, I will ask, what the hell is wrong with you? Made an incredible purchase over the weekend, but more on that later...as in much later, when I have pictures to show you.

The math class I'm taking is totally kicking my ass, and it's only week one, seven more to go. Spent over $100 on a graphing calculator this weekend, and no that wasn't my incredible purchase. $100 for a calculator? Daggum. I need to build calculators. Thankfully this is the last math class I need for my degree, anymore of these doozies and I may not make it.

I am cutting my caffeine intake. *GASP* I know, Starbucks retailers are crying out everywhere. Not only have I noticed my teeth go from dazzling white to a not-so-dazzling version of white, but I think my body has adapted to it, it takes much much more than my 1-2 cups a day to wake me up in the morning. So, it's down to every other day none on the weekends, and I'm brushing my teeth with baking soda before bed. Yes, it's an old wives tale, and yes, it truly does whiten your teeth. Due to my coffee purging, I'm going to have to catch my zzzz's earlier, we'll see how that goes.

Did anyone watch the Oscar's last night? I don't remember it being so lame in prior years. The hosts weren't even funny. I didn't get it. I'm glad Sandra Bullock won best actress though.

Alright guys and gals, that's all I got for now. Peace out.

("Peace out"...I know, I'm totally lame...I'm ok with that.)

What The Crap

2010-03-04T21:29:00.005-06:00

I'm normally not one to have dreams that make any sense whatsoever. My dreams typically resemble some retarded ass low budget movie with lots of bad scenes that don't go together at all. For example, I once dreamed that I was on a Ferris wheel with one of my co-workers who started freaking out because she was afraid of heights. Being the sensitive person I am I told her to shut her pie hole and get over herself. The "scene" then cut to me wearing some sort of loin cloth, shaking a stick in the air while dancing around a bon fire surrounded by tiki torches. My co-workers heads were on the tiki torches. Hm...well that may be one of the more fucked up examples, but still you get the idea. They make no sense and are completely ridiculous.

Last night I decided to hit the hay early, I'm not 19 anymore and going off of five hours of sleep at night was taking it's toll. I don't have another five more minutes to give each morning to the cover-Stephanie's-dark-circles-under-her-eyes time slot. My dream was strange to say the least...

Me, Ryan and two other married couples (whom I don't recognize, but apparently in my dream were best friends with) were hanging out. The guys came back with a bag of weed, which is strange because I have never done drugs, EVER, and Ryan isn't into that at all. But whatev, in my dreams I'm a drug addicted physco that kills her co-workers and dances 1/2 naked around their severed heads. Ya know, whatev. So, they come back with the weed, and tell me that I have to keep it in my backpack because I look the most innocent out of the group. No clue why we have backpacks, but each of us has one and they're full of clothes...and now mine has weed. I put the weed in my backpack, we all climb into a car and get to some random person's house. It's dark, there's a bonfire, people laughing, having fun, ect. One of the girls turns to me and says "We should go to the beach." I say "OK!" and we drive to the beach. Suddenly it's day time, not a cloud in the sky. At the beach there's an amusement park. We're walking down this sandy pathish trail, when all the sudden we see this huge pitch black cloud coming towards us. It's so dark we can't see in front of us. We continue walking, even though we can't see a damn thing. The cloud passes over us and it's sunny again. We look at each other, shrug our shoulders, brush it off as "Man that was one heck of a storm cloud!" and continue walking. 'Nuther storm cloud comes, can't see a damn thing and we're reaching out for each other because we're afraid we'll get separated. (It never dawns on us to stop walking.) The cloud passes overhead and we see a cave in front of us. The cave is pitch black and we can hear circus music coming out from the cave entrance. For whatever reason we think it's a good idea to go into this black hole of probable death. As we enter we see that the cave splits off, one side has a bunch of younger looking people in white robes doing sciencey things with formulas, beakers, test tubes, ect. The other side is like a fucked up version of Alice in Wonderland. Elves, not Legolas-like elves from Lord of the Rings, but like wrinkly, hunchback elves, that are twitching, and trying to beckon you to them. Little mushroom people are running around laughing, Cheshire cats are in the trees and the only light is the gold glitter littering the path. You can also hear blood curling screaming further on in the cave.

Each "section" has a large sign posted in front. Like the amusement park signs that say if you're preggo, or have a heart condition you can't ride the ride. The scientist cave said that they cannot be held liable for any physical deformity that may occur during your visit. The fucked up Alice in Wonderland sign read that no mushroom people were harmed during this reenactment (reenactment of what, I have no idea), thieves of elven gold would be prosecuted, and loss of life, and the possibility of getting lost in the cave forever may occur while visiting.

In my dream, I read the signs, pointed to the fucked up elves and said, "I wanna go in this one." The chick with me, of course, wanted to visit the scientists. After much arguing I gave in and we visited the scientists. Upon walking in we were told we were welcome to try any concoction on the table except for the blue one. Now, of course, all the other concoctions were a pea soup green color and had crud floating in it. The blue concoction however, was a crystally ocean blue that gave off an amazing aroma, and had mist coming out of it (ya know when you drop dry ice into a cup of liquor...er, water, and it creates that whole mystic fog affect, yeah, like that). Chicky-poo grabs it, downs 1/2 the tube and disappears. The scientists start freaking out saying it hasn't been tested and all kinds of crap has happened to the testers that have drank it. One of the scientists then turns to me and says, you should drink the rest, it should take you to the same spot it took your friend, she could be lost forever. Super! That sounds like a perfectly good reason to drink this test tube that's not only made my friend disappear, but has caused all kinds of cracked out side effects to the other drinkers of the blue drink of mysticism! I drink the drink and feel as though I'm trying to squeeze myself into a size triple zero dress. Pulling, prodding, not able to breath, I wake up to find myself and chicky-poo on the edge of a cliff. The sky is blackish gray but there's no clouds, there's three moons and a purple planet in the distance. We look normal, but don't speak normal. We speak Klingon. Yes, Klingon, from Star Trek. I have no idea, I learned a long time ago to not ask questions about my crazy ass dreams. We decide that we more than likely cannot get off the planet, island, cliff whatever this place is. I sit, open my backpack and what do I see? No clothes, just weed, tons and tons of weed.

At that point I woke up, and when I woke up I was not thinking, "what the hell". I was super pissed that this bish wouldn't let me go in the fucked up Alice cave.

Focus On What You Can Change Now

2010-03-02T22:45:00.000-06:00

So, I was doing my 2nd favorite stress reliever ever...browsing through Etsy. Yes I know, how bad-to-the-boneish of me. (My 3rd favorite stress reliever involves a machine, a wad of cash, ink and ointment, and since I'm lacking the wad of cash my love of drilling art into my body has been put on hold.) So, anyways, I'm browsing through Etsy, looking at wall art and saw a print that read, Focus on what you can change now. Hm, that's interesting. I mean obviously the things I can change right now aren't much, but maybe that should be a relief, less to stress over.

Life can be a total pain in the ass sometimes. It can be annoying, irritating, frustrating, and maddening as you can see from my last post; and if anyone has actually come back to read more of my antics, outbursts and opinions, how sweet of you. No really I'm not being sarcastic, really, that's sweet of you. Unfortunately this whole bank house fiasco isn't going to end any time soon, so, my faithful and newbie followers (welcome to the madness that is Stephanie by the way) be prepared for more outbursts on my love hate relationship with corporate America.

SO! What can Stephanie change right now? The television channel, my diet, my exercise routine, my education, which route I take to work in the morning (which I should seriously reconsider if I don't want to keep getting stuck behind that bus that goes 2 miles an hour), my toothpaste brand, what I wear outside of work (we have uniforms-polo shirts and khaki pants, I threw up in my mouth a little when they told me), if I want to answer my phone or not when it rings, I could continue on here, but I'll spare us both.

On a side note, has anyone seen that new show, Undercover Boss? I have no idea if it's real or not, but I almost want to call the producers and give them Diablo Enterprises name. OH! You mean we should actually communicate with the people working in the trenches? We should talk to the people actually DOING the work, if we want to find out what's REALLY going on in our company?? They think??? And have ideas???? NOOOOOO!

Cue eye rolling now. Dumbasses. Maybe corporate guru's have been so high up on the food chain for so long they forgot how WORK really is? Not just going to meetings and going over numbers, because I realize management is busy too and has a job over and above the trenches workers, but they make decisions based on numbers, not based on logistics, or how those changes actually affect their employees, or even how those changes will work for those departments. Diablo used to make policy changes every week! If they would have just asked us what problems we were facing, we could have told them and it would have resolved the issue and there wouldn't have been any of this back and forth policy crap. Silly me, there I go thinking again...

In Case You Can't Tell I'm A Little Pissed

2010-02-26T16:59:00.005-06:00

As you know, from several weeks ago, we got an offer on the VA house. For weeks, we've been waiting to hear from the bank, waiting for their appraiser to get his crap together, and handing over every bit of physical evidence stating that we truly cannot afford over $3k in housing payments each month. The offer we received was a low one, but it is way higher than what the bank would get if they foreclosed on us, and it's very easy to see by looking over our finances that foreclosure is in the near future unless either the bank modifies the loan or they accept a short sale. I called last week to make sure everything was ok, and that the appraiser did in fact get his crap together. The clerk on the other end of the line said that our paperwork for the short sale was still being reviewed and that we did not qualify for loan modification at this time. Silence. I responded, "Ok, so you're telling me that by going our financial documents you requested and we sent, after two months you guys have decided that you're not changing, lowering or modifying our mortgage payment in any way?" She responded, "No, not at this time." Super.

On the way home from work I got a call from our realtor. It went something like this...
"Hey, I hope you're calling me with good news!"
"No, Steph I wish I was. I have bad news. The banks appraiser appraised the house at $231k, the bank won't accept anything lower than $227k. They completed refused the offer. I spoke to the buyers agent and she's fed up and said she's not encouraging her client to give a higher offer."
"Ok. Soooo...the banks forcing us to foreclose?"
"That's what it looks like. I've been in contact with the processor over your account, and she basically told me that our only option was to find a buyer who will pay $227k or we're screwed. She said she's closing the file, it's highly unlikely we'll find a buyer wanting to pay that much in this economy."
"Well, if she knows that why doesn't she do something?!?!"
"She's just a clerk, she has no power."
"So, what do I do? There's gotta be someone I can call, or something we can do."
"I was looking at the appraisal, and I have no idea where this guy got his numbers. The comps in your neighborhood aren't that high. Before the economy went south they were, but not now, so I'm going to challenge the appraisal, but I was told that will take months."
"I don't understand. They've seen all our documents, it's so blatantly obvious that we cannot make payments on that house, not unless they lower them. They won't lower the payments, and they won't allow me to make partial payments, I try every time they call, they refuse them. The bank would rather foreclose on us, and make pennies, than take a perfectly good offer? They'll make more off this buyers offer than they would off a foreclosure. This doesn't make any sense."
"I know. I don't understand it either."
"Alright, so what do you need me to do?"
"Nothing, this appraisal challenge is our only card. There's nothing you can do at this point."
"Awesome. So we watch while the bank totally fucks us over."

Guys, I really don't get it. I'm so completely confused right now. The bank is refusing to modify our mortgage, they won't let me make partial payments, they have our pay stubs, all our finance information, bank statements, they see that we just cannot afford two housing payments. They know our background story, it's not our fault Ryan couldn't find work in Virginia. They know we tried to get tenants in the house, with no success, our realtor even built up a history to show that we tried selling the house for more and no one brought an offer to the table. The one offer we get, they turn down, they don't even counter offer, they completely refuse it. It's not rocket science that they won't get more through a foreclosure sale than from a short sale.

There's nothing we can do, but sit and wait. The bank is totally screwing us, and there's nothing we can do. Do they not have organizations that help people being fucked over by financial institutions? We have support groups for people with hitchhikers thumbs, awareness groups for people who feel they have too many freckles, but nothing for the people being fucked over by corporate America? We're so goddamn busy sending money to Haiti to help those people out, that we forget about the people in our own fucking country. Yes, I said it. We have kids who can't read, sleep on the streets, and have dreams of one day being able to live in a safe neighborhood; and yet we send millions of dollars to another country to help them out. We have people like my dad who put their lives on the line being a cop just to pay bills each month, because he couldn't find a job doing anything else, and yet we're funding another country. Look I don't what the answer is. I have no idea who to point the fingers at, and pointing fingers at the White House isn't exactly resolving anything, as you can see by looking at the last 10 years. For all we know, the President may not even hold the cards. He's probably the face of the government. Ya know, like when you have a director of a department who speaks well, dresses nice, looks nice and is likable, but doesn't know jack shit. Come to find out it's the girl with the greasy hair, bad skin, bottleish glasses and 15 facial piercings, who dresses like an 8-year-old that is the brains behind the operation.

At this point I was going to apologize for my rant; however, I have decided against it. If you've donated money to Haiti, good for you, I hope you get your $20 tax break; I also hope you come on down to Baton Rouge to visit, I'd be happy to show you the neighborhood next to mine filled with kids who may not even graduate junior high. For all of you who can afford to take regular weekend getaways in your fancy sports cars, I hope you have a fantastic time; and when a cop pulls you over for speeding I also hope you keep in mind as your muttering profanities at him/her under your breath, that they too are people, and you have no idea the horror they deal with everyday. And NO, for some of them, that occupation was NOT something they chose, it was a necessity to be able to feed their family. I hope, as you're calling in sick to your job, not because you really ARE sick or are dying mentally but because you just don't feel like going in to work that day, that you enjoy your day off; I also hope that you run into someone who's lost their job and they kick your ungrateful fucking ass.

Our Colorado

2010-02-24T19:33:00.002-06:00

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about my future. Career, kids, pets, location, Ryan’s career, you name it, it’s probably crossed my mind. I’m fairly certain that its official, my biological time clock has begun ticking. The original plan from way back when has always been to have our kids, if we wanted more than one, back to back and as close to 30 years old as possible. For us, 2012 was the year, I would be 29, and our finances would look a lot better. That's just always been the plan, never really thought about changing it until recently.

In terms of my career, I’ve been going back and forth on whether I should roll right into my MBA as soon as my bachelor’s is finished. If I do want to continue my MBA right away, I’ll need to start applying to universities in the next several months. Let’s see, do I want to add another $40k of debt onto the student loans I already have? I talk like I’m still deciding, when in reality my mind is already made up, I’m just trying to justify spending that much on myself.

I used to hate the saying “hindsight is always 20/20,” but if you can learn from others mistakes, perhaps YOU can have 20/20 in the present. I have no idea if this is making sense, just bear with me, I have a point I promise. I talked to a few people in my field, some I work with, some I don’t. ALL of which said that they wish they either got their bachelor’s or their master’s. Because they didn’t continue their education as far as they could they are stuck in the position they hold, they can’t go any further. Their opinions were all different in terms of kids. Some had them young and were glad, some had them later and were glad.

On the drive to work this morning, a conversation with one of our friends from the Navy popped in my head. I remember Steve telling us about a family friend who moved out to Colorado with his wife, before they had kids. They lived in Colorado for a couple years, that was their "hooray" before they settled down and had kids. It then dawned on me, this is mine and Ryan’s Colorado. Well, Louisiana doesn’t have gorgeous mountains, snow, world famous ski resorts, outdoor sports, and amazing weather, but we have Mardi Gras, AMAZING food, and...well that’s it, you work with what you have people. This could be mine and Ryan’s last "hooray" before we have kids. Yes, we’re both working, yes I’m in school, at the rate I’m going I’ll be in school until the end of time; but these could be our last years before we settle down, before we have kids, we should enjoy it, yes?

This makes sense to me. Yes, my biological time clock has begun it’s ticking, thankfully I have a brand new nephew, two honorary nieces, and two more honorary niece/nephews on the way, I can spoil the hell out of them, and enjoy our family/friends kids until we have our own. The 2012 Plan, as it is now being called, will be followed. It’s a good plan, it makes sense, and we should follow it. In regards to school…I’m still battling the money in my mind. I more than likely will continue this battle right up until I sign on the dreaded dotted line.

As for right now, New Orleans is mine and Ryan’s Colorado. Let the fun begin, well…as soon as we get paid again.

Just When You Think You've Got A Plan, And Everything Is Good To Go, Your Body Tells You Something Different

2010-02-21T09:50:00.004-06:00

For the past four years, right around Christmas time, I have had the desire for kids; and for the last three of them this feeling has always gone away after Christmas passes. This past year, however, it has not. We're nearing the end of February and I still want kids. I don't know if it's because I'm the last one of my friends to be childless, I don't know if it's because my biological time clock is actually telling me, "It's time," I have no idea what the crap is going on.

I have two friends who are pregnant at the same time, just a few weeks in between them, so I went to Target to do some baby stuff shopping. Normally, I go into a store get what I need and get out. I don't look around, or window shop. Window shopping leads to buying, and I have no money for extra crap, especially crap from baby stores. What the heck am I gonna do with a breast pump? After I got my goodies I found myself in the toddler clothing, swooning over an Easter dress. I came to, realized where I was, and wheeled my cart to the checkout lane. Christ, now I'm subconsciously shopping for kids clothes. In my head I'm trying to play it off-
I was just looking.
Looking for whom?
Looking...for people, I know people who have toddlers.
No you don't. Everyone you know has newborns, is still creating their baby, or their kids are older.
Well...whatever.

It's sad, I know.

The plan was to start trying for kids in 2012, we'll need these next two years to get back on our feet financially. Ryan's wanted kids since he popped the question seven years ago. The responsible thing to do would be to wait until our finances are somewhat looking better. Being responsible can be such a pain in the ass.

Stephanie Of Yesteryear

2010-02-15T20:24:00.006-06:00

What if we could go back in time? Would you tell/warn yourself something? Would you bet on that winning game or play those winning lotto numbers? Would you change things in your past knowing that you could be crushing the proverbial butterfly of time? Would the Stephanie of yesteryear even recognize herself? Obviously the mad scientist who discovers time travel has not yet unleashed this invention, so this is not an option; however, writing is...

I have sat here for about an hour trying to write a letter to 21-year-old Stephanie. It started comical-avoid drinking too much at a certain bachelorette party, don't bother taking that class you'll get a D all three times you take it-then it turned serious-being comfortable in your own skin is a precious gift, being you is ok. All advice to the Stephanie of yesteryear ended up being deleted. It's interesting looking back on your life and thinking how much easier or different your life could be if you would be able to warn yourself of certain things, but the reality is, all my life experiences made me who I am. Well, I mean I could have gone without dating that redneck guy, what a waste of time that was; and if I knew then what I know now I wouldn't have signed the papers to buy the house. All in all, hindsight's 20/20. It's always easy to see what you should have done when everything is over and done with. It's easy to see the pits when the fog clears and the dust settles. Maybe it's because I'm fickle and my attitude on life changes with the wind, maybe it's because I'm so overly analytical, I analyze every life shred detail by detail; but for every factor I had to tell Stephanie of yesteryear, I found a factor on why it made me who I am and why it was crucial that I experience it.

Making mistakes is what makes a person stronger, going through the trenches is what makes a person wiser. Without either one of those experiences who would we be? Dating Jon may have been a total waste of time, but I learned a valuable life lesson from it, you can't learn to love anyone. I am a firm believer that EVERYTHING is mind over matter and you can convince yourself of anything. Anything but love, love can't be forced, it can't be convinced. You either love someone or you don't. It's that simple. There's no, "I can learn to love him," no, you either love him or you don't. Let's face it, the story of the bachelorette party makes for some good storytime. It proves just how important it is that you watch your drink like a hawk and have an aware, reliable DD who doesn't mind putting your clothes back on you in your drugged stupor.

Maybe one day I'll be able to write that letter to Stephanie of yesteryear, but today is not the day.

Valentine's Day, Mardi Gras and Other Crap

2010-02-14T21:26:00.002-06:00

Valentine's Day is today, another special day that Ryan would normally be deployed or on duty for, yet this year we have to ourselves. Almost didn't happen that way. Monday, Ryan flies out to GA for a work project, he'll be gone a week, and gone for Mardi Gras. I'm going anyway, should be interesting.

We had no idea what we wanted to do today, we're still poor as hell, and it seems like everything is costly. We thought about going to the movies, but I might puke if I see another commercial for yet another sappy love story, especially one about a military romance titled Dear John. No clue how the movie ends, or if the chick really does end their romance with a "Dear John letter", but really, the writers couldn't come up with a better title than that? Ryan actually got a Dear John letter while in boot camp (which ended well for both of us, but still...) he has ZERO desire to see this movie, and he's one of those guys that will actually go see a chick flick without complaining, sighing or running out of the theater once the credits start to roll. I shouldn't judge, I haven't seen the movie, perhaps there's a clever reason as to why they would name a mushy military romance after a clique way for loser men and women to break up with their deployed partners. Full House re-runs sound more entertaining.

Ryan and I ended up deciding to go to a few Mardi Gras parades today. Parades have been going on for weeks, but I've been told the Mardi Gras festivities started Friday night and the actual DAY of Mardi Gras is Tuesday. Parades are free, and neither one of us have been to a parade in years. Well, unless you count herding into the subway in DC a parade. Technically you probably could, there was a dude with a tuba, a clown, some weird guy that looked like he was dressed up for St. Patty's day (this was in Oct.), and the color guard of some high school...anyway...

We got to downtown New Orleans early, parked and walked towards the parade route. Houses in New Orleans are gorgeous. I have never NEVER seen buildings like these anywhere, except in NY, and those types of buildings were either libraries, smaller museums or business offices. In New Orleans people actually live in these gorgeous architectural beauties. Plastic Mardi Gras beads hung from each and every iron fence in each and every front yard. Mardi Gras wreaths hung on the front of every door. Saints banners, beads and garland hung from the second story balconies. Charleston is the most beautiful city I've ever seen, but New Orleans takes a close second.

We hit Napoleon St. and saw nothing but people for miles. NOW, the last time I was at a parade I was six and living in NY. In upstate NY, the parades constitute of a handful of clowns, a girl dressed up like Barbie riding in a convertible, a few cartoon characters and Santa. Clowns usually throw Tootsie Rolls out to the crowd, and...yeah that's about it. In Louisiana, you apparently bring any or all of the following: tents, grills, ladders with chairs at the top, canopies, regular non-ladder chairs, coolers of food, coolers of drinks, buffet tables, pieces of wood (beer dice...duh *shrug*), and blankets. Dude in NY, we stand, we do not sit while the parade is going by. I have never seen one of those wheelie ladder bucket chair things before, but realized that I needed one after the first parade went by, and NO ONE set up their grandma's kitchen in the median; apparently in Louisiana you do. One girl was literally smoking a pig...in a smoker...during the parade.

Everyone on the parade floats are masked and in costume. They throw beads, stuffed animals, hats, Frisbees, all kinds of crap. Due to the fact that I was not in the mood to be molested, asked to flash the goods, or see my husband get in a fight, Ryan and I stayed in the family areas. Aka, we avoided Bourbon Street. Most of the parade tosses went to little kids and rightly so, however the beast in both Ryan and I came out just a little during the parade.

I am not materialistic AT ALL, having nice things is nice, but I typically purge my house of needless crap every three months, and I am not one to buy something unless it is a needed item (such as the small cabinet I found for $15 at a consignment shop...*throat clearing*). I thought to myself on the drive down to the Big Easy that I wouldn't be into the bead craze, that I wanted to experience Mardi Gras. Welllll, when I saw the beads being tossed out to the crowd, I went from this...

To this...

I was good and did not steal any beads from children, I even gave a string to a toddler that couldn't reach and her mom was busy with her brother, BUT I was not about to just stand there and not even try as the glistening plastic colors flew through the air. I know, I know, they're plastic Mardi Gras beads, I have no idea what I'm going to do with them. I HAD FUN DON'T JUDGE ME.

Yes, those are US Navy beads. No flashing of any type was performed for any neck garnishment. Ryan found the Navy beads on a fence, we left a string I already had in place of the Navy beads. After the "trade" we walked a little quicker back to the car.

Cups were also being thrown out to the crowd. Plastic cups with the name of the parade on it. Ryan was eyeing the cups like I was eyeing the beads. A red valentine themed cup came flying over the crowd. Ryan and the guy behind him both jumped for it, both of their hands grazed it. Ryan slapped it out of homeskillet's hand just as he got a grip on it. The cup fell to the ground and Ryan looked at him with a smirk on his face. "Sorry, got a little into the whole collecting thing." The guy laughed, picked up the cup from the ground and handed it to Ryan. I turned back around as he put the cup into my backpack, "Geez babe at least I haven't gotten into a brawl over the beads." He replied with, "Hush woman."

Getting out of the city was a tad more difficult than getting in. Lots of road blocks, lots of traffic. Almost 2.5 hours later we were home, we only live 45 minutes from New Orleans. We both had a good time, and we were glad to discover that Mardi Gras wasn't all about boobs, beads and orgies. Thor was even festive!

The New Girl

2010-02-11T12:24:00.003-06:00

I apparently have become the entertainment in my new office. All the people I work with have lived in the New Orleans area their entire lives, so when someone like myself, whose lived in a few different places, walks in, they become the entertainment.

I've never lived near Louisiana, and no one I know is from Louisiana or has lived here at any point in their life, so things down here are very new to me. When we moved down here I figured it would be similar to South Carolina but with hotter summers. No, I might as well be in a totally different country.

My first day at the office one of the purchasing guys asked me if I wanted a piece of king cake. "Um sure, I've never had king cake, is it just a really BIG cake, or maybe a really good tasting cake?" All 12 people turned and looked at me like I had lobsters crawling out of my ears. I looked around the room at the 12 sets of eyes staring at me, mouths partially open from pausing in the middle of shoveling dessert into their face. "Ya know, because it's a KING cake, so it could be really big or really yummy...Oh, is it not cake at all? Is it one of those ironic desserts that is named after something that has nothing to do with it?" At this point they all started looking at each other as if they were silently trying to decipher what language I was speaking. One of the purchasing guys blurted out, "YOU'VE NEVER HAD KING CAKE?" I responded, "I'm not from here?" They all sighed with relief. Apparently king cake is just a fancy danish, a yummy fancy danish that shows up in bakeries every year around Mardi Gras time. The same purchasing guy went on to explain that if you find a plastic baby in your piece of cake you're supposed to buy the next king cake. This is all very strange to me, and when I don't understand things, I ask questions-
"Why is there a plastic baby in the cake?"
"Cuz the bakers put it there."
"But why?"
"Cuz it's tradition."
"But why a baby?"
"Will you just eat the cake?"

A few days later, the office manager brought me a list of Mardi Gras parades in the area. I then asked why all the parades were named after Greek and Roman mythology, again more looking at me as if I was an alien. (I've come to the conclusion that all Mardi Gras traditions are not linked together whatsoever, make absolutely no sense, no one really knows WHY they do certain traditions down here, and all Louisianians are just looking for a reason to have a party.) I proceeded to mis-pronounce about three city names holding the parades, which led to several people coming by my office for the next couple hours asking me how to say those same names I mis-pronounced, then walking away chuckling. Eh, it's fine, at least they were amused right...right?

The other accountant there is awesome, she's super sweet. She was telling me her dad made jambalaya the other day. I piped up, "I've never had jambalaya." Her jaw dropped and she said, "Oh girl, I'ma bring you some." And she did. Jambalaya is AMAZING. She has brought me some new Creole/Cajun food to try everyday. It's awesome, I love her! Yesterday she asked me if I liked crawfish. I of course responded with, "Don't know, never tried it." From the groans, rubbing of bellies, and eyes rolling in the back of heads, I assume I'm missing out. I said, "Well I'm a little concerned, you guys eat your shrimp with the prawns and heads on and unpeeled. Do you guys eat your crawfish whole, like on TV? I wouldn't know how to disassemble it." Cue crickets chirping now. Again, looking at me as if I had sprouted 10 heads. My fellow accountant then erupted into out of control laughter, followed by everyone else in the room. She put her hand on mine and said, "Girl don't worry we gunna get you broken in."

Today, more king cake. They eat A LOT of king cake around here.

Dreams Change

2010-02-09T11:39:00.011-06:00

Have you ever woke up one morning and thought to yourself...this seriously CANNOT be my life? I have. When Thor woke me up at 2am to go outside, I'm fairly certain I said those exact words. In all seriousness...is this what you thought your life would be like when you were in high school or college? OF COURSE NOT!

I'm reminded of when I was a senior in high school. I went to a very small private school, my graduating class was six people, we were like brothers and sisters. We shared our hopes and dreams with each other, our plans for the future, who we wanted to be, the kind of people we wanted to marry, where we wanted to live, all that crap. I look back at what we said then and each of our lives now, (yes, we still keep in touch, maybe not as good as we should, but we still keep in touch) the majority of us are living very different lives. For example, I was going to be a reporter, Lindsey was going to be a detective, neither one of us were going to get married. Turns out, I'm an accountant, she's a masseuse, and we both got married when we were 21.

Dreams change, dreams change as life changes. Some dreams adapt as we grow, some dreams go away completely, and some dreams are entirely new. Several of the blogs I follow have been talking about dreams lately and how they've either forgotten about their dreams, let dreams fall through the cracks, or how they aren't living their dream. I know I don't have the same dreams I did when I was in high school, or my first two years of college. I was going to NYC after my first two years of college. I was going to go to NYU to study creative writing. I met Ryan, and my dreams changed. Would I still like to go to NYU for creative writing, sure; but my priorities are different now. If I never go to NYU, it's no big deal. Do I feel like my dream has fallen through the cracks? No. Is this a dream that I would be willing to quit my job for and leave my husband for? No. My dreams have changed.

Maybe I just don't understand, maybe it's because I've never had a dream that I've felt so passionate about that I'm willing to drop everything, take risks and just do it. Sure, there are things I'd like to do, places I'd like to visit, a life list I like to check things off of, but if I don't get to visit Europe, be a magazine editor, or parachute out of a hot air balloon into Ryan Reynolds back yard, it's not the end of the world. Maybe it has something to do with my state of mind. Right now my biggest dream is being able to pay all of our bills each month. Or for Ryan (my husband, not Reynolds) to put his dirty laundry in the basket. (I mean seriously. A marriage is a partnership, yes? So what do you call it when one person works a full time job, goes to school full time, does all the laundry, cleaning, cooking, dishes, and grocery shopping? House slave maybe?)

What are some of your dreams? Do you feel as though you've missed out on something great by not following a certain dream you had? Do you feel as I feel, that dreams change, they change as you change?

(The fairy in the window reminds me of the good fairy from Pinocchio. Ya know, when you wish upon a star...makes no difference who you are...oh whatever, just roll with it.)

Confessions of an Underwear Sales Girl-The Finale

2010-02-07T13:30:00.001-06:00

I fully realize that accounting is not interesting, hilarious, or entertaining in any way. Since I am now returning to that field, I will more than likely not have any ridiculous stories to share with you guys. So, here it is, the last of the underwear shop stories, the ones I have not yet told...

An older woman walked up to me and said she needed help finding a bra. I went through the whole, what size, style, colors, ect. She said she had no idea what size, she needs to be fitted, and she preferred in the fitting room. I thought, alright, she's older and more conservative. I let her in a room, she then proceeded to usher me out and said she'd need a minute. Unless you come in wearing a coat and five sweaters, we'll measure you with your clothes on, trust me, WE prefer it that way. I casually thought, maybe she has a ton of layers on and she didn't want to take them off in front of people. She then let out a, "I'M READY!" I walked over, she opened the door and there she was completely naked. I blinked a few times, measured her and ran out. WTF? Why in God's name did she think I would need her completely naked, including from the waist down?

I was helping one of the girls clear out the dressing rooms when a woman peeked out from behind her door and said she needed help. I stepped in the room to find her completely topless. She then proceeded to ask me if her boobs were lopsided. I responded, "Not really", and left. Seriously, just because we sell underwear that doesn't mean we want to see the goods, especially if they look like hers did. Yes I lied, so sue me. I was not about to stand in that room with her explaining why, how and where they were lopsided.

Our store was moving to a temporary location while our original store was being remodeled. A team of about seven of us had been working practically around the clock trying to get the store up and running again. We were at the new location, our gate was down and we had a curtain in front of the windows and gate. One of the guys working with us asked, "Who's that lady?" I turned around to see a random woman moving boxes out of the way, stepping over dollies and opening bins. Our manager asked the woman if he could help her, she replied, "Oh, I'm just looking." He responded, "But we're closed." She snapped up from her crouched position and said, "OH! I had no idea." Really? REALLY? The closed gate that you had to lift up to get in, the curtain you had to walk through and the random shit all over the place didn't give it away?

They have lingerie parties here in New Orleans. Like Playboy Mansion parties, where everyone dresses up in lingerie. A woman came up to me and asked me if I could help her pick out an outfit that her husband would approve of. I showed her what we had. As she was getting ready to go into the dressing room she told me that her husband wouldn't mind if she brought a friend. I looked at her and said, "Ok, well I can help you pick out another outfit if you'd like." She looked at me and said, "Well, pick out something you'll like." I raised an eyebrow at her and said, "Ya know I think I have to work that night." She responded with, "That's a shame."

A woman and her friend walked into the store and up to me. They asked if we carried bras to fit them. These two ladies were LARGE. There's no way we carried bras to fit them. How the heck do you tell women that they're too big for our clothes? I responded with, "Hm, we only go up to a DD in the store, and DDD online." The biggest of the two ladies said, "Well can you measure me?" I already knew that my 60" tape measure wasn't going to go around her. I took the tape from around my neck, smiled and said, "Sure." She was a good 72" around, and her boobs were even bigger than that. There was no way I could get an accurate measure. I told them Lane Bryant had sizes that we didn't. The whole time I was waiting for one of them to cuss me out like all the bigger women do, about how we discriminate, and we don't care about real voluptuous women. These two ladies were joking and laughing with me, they made an uncomfortable situation for both parties, comfortable. Why can't all people be like them?

The store was closed and six of us were furiously trying to pull the pantie bar back together so we could get the heck out of dodge. One of girls asked me what I was doing that night, I responded with some comment about my husband and I having dinner. All five girls looked up at me like I'm insane. One girl responded "Giiirrlll, what the hell you doin' with a husband? You're way too young!" I laughed and said, "How old do you guys think I am?" The girl on the floor under the pile of thongs said, "You're like us, 19, 21...right?" I laughed and said, "No. Guys I'm 27." All five mouths dropped open and it was silent. The girl who told me I was too young to be married said, "DAMN! We thought you were one of us!" The little blonde in the corner looked at her, hand on hip, "She IS one of us, OK." I burst out laughing. The next day one of the other girls came up to me and said, "Are you really 27? I mean you act older, but we all just thought you were really mature and quiet. You don't look 27." Apparently I look 21. I'm ok with that.

The girl that claimed I was too young for a husband was helping me clean up yet another mess left by someones out of control child. A customer walked up to us. She asked, "How do the sizes run? What's a medium considered." I answered, "Pant size 8-10." As she held up the size medium pantie to her hips, she responded with "Oh yeah, I'll definitely need a small then, maybe an extra small." She walked away and the other sales girl leaned into me and said, "If she wears a small, I wear toddler size." Seriously this woman needed at least a medium. Not that there's anything wrong with a medium, in some styles I have to wear a medium, if that's the size you need, that's the size you need. I almost felt bad for her ass, squeezing into an extra small...she takes them off and it's gonna be like when you break open the can of Pillsbury biscuits. POW!

There ya have it, the last of the underwear stories. It's been fun, but not that fun; however, I did thoroughly enjoy my discount...

Love Of Job

2010-02-03T18:09:00.006-06:00

Back to working regular hours, back to having my evenings home, back to having a desk and a space of my own. It's amazing and I love it. I am beyond content with my coffee cup, calculator and stack of bills to pay. It's true, you don't realize what you have until you don't have it anymore. Being able to pee without asking permission to leave your assigned area is quite liberating. No more waiting for the boss to tell me it's ok to leave, no more itchy headset or dressing like a goth rocker for work everyday.

I totally have my own office at this job, I couldn't believe it. There's only one other girl that does accounting and we both have offices. I nearly wept when they showed me where my home away from home would be. I take my lunch when I see fit, no more, "Steph take your 15 now cuz you can't later." Ginger, the other accounting girl, came around the corner to see me sitting at my desk with a dopey grin on my face. She smiled and said, "Hey you ok?" I smiled at her and said, "I love this." She laughed and said, "I'm glad you're happy girl. It is the month of loooove."

I realize that Valentine's Day is supposed to be about a person with whom you share a connection, but right now I'm really feelin' the connection to my career field. Maybe because I'm finally back in it, maybe because of this new job, who cares! I really love being in my field. Yes it's boring, no it's not exciting or thrilling at all; but ya know what, it's dependable, straight forward and doesn't change. With the curve balls that life has been throwing at us for the last four months, predictability is kinda nice...at least for those work hours. Or, at least until our realtor calls us about more VA house drama, or the bank calls wanting to know where their money is, or we get ANOTHER letter from the DMV about the stars and planets not aligning in our favor. (Every week there's some hairbrained issue. Yesterday I got a call from the temp agency I'm going through, telling me my background check red flagged me for some violation in South Carolina in 1988. In 1988 I was 6 years old and living in NY. I'm fairly certain that my biggest violation back then was not eating all my vegetables.)

Accounting was never my dream job, but it truly turned into something I enjoy. How many dream jobs have you had where you tried it out and realized it wasn't for you? Uh, personal training (raising my hand). Thought that was what I wanted, took the classes, took the test, got the job and ended up HATING it. Worst three weeks of my life. Thank goodness I didn't waste more time on that dream gone bad. Of course there will always be those dream jobs that you more than likely won't get to experience; like being a magazine editor *SWOON*, or a Vegas showgirl, or a fruit roll-up taste tester.

I am truly happy where I am right now. Sometimes you need to experience things to understand, sometimes you need a hiatus from your career to actually appreciate it. I will never question my career choice...well, unless a fruit roll-up company has an opening for a new taste tester.

Louisiana Observations

2010-01-31T12:21:00.002-06:00

I've lived in Louisiana for about four months now. Here's a few things I've observed and learned...

Cold to people in Louisiana means that they can't wear their flip flops. Anything under 75 degrees is freezing and not tolerable.

I10 to New Orleans is always packed. No matter if it's rush hour traffic, 2am on a Tuesday, or a Sunday afternoon, as soon as I10 splits to New Orleans...parking lot.

Louisianians like to eat their shrimp with the heads on and unpeeled. I no longer eat shrimp.

People in Louisiana are the nicest people I have ever met in my entire life...except when they're shopping for underwear.

Everyone goes to church down here. Everyone, even if they don't know what they believe, they still go to church.

Football, partying and eating is at the center of everyone's world. No wonder Louisiana was rated America's happiest people...

Whataburger is Aaahhh...what for it...MAZING. It's become my house of worship. Know why I say that? Because when I pull into the parking lot my brain and stomach sing, "Hhhaaallllellujah!" Aaawww yeah.

Everyone avoids Mississippi. Apparently it's the southern version of West Virginia...but worse.

It truly is interesting how each region of the country is so different. New York state is very-work, work, work; work hard, lots of education, climb the corporate ladder. South Carolina is still fighting the Civil War, and very-we only talk to our kind; if you're not from the South or part of the good ole boys network, you're a yank and not welcome! Sorry Britt, but it is. Although Virginia is below the confederate line, it's resembles a low key version of NY. I don't even think Virginians consider themselves southern anymore. Louisiana could care less where you're from, as long as you drink and like football you're in like flin.

I wonder what it would be like to live out west...

Valentine's Day At The Underwear Shop

2010-01-28T22:53:00.008-06:00

The end of January is here, and Valentine's Day is fast approaching. In an attempt to be more..."cheery", I decorated the house this year...and when I say decorate, I mean threw confetti on a few of our tables.

The Valentine's lingerie is in the store now and I have to say, W. T. F. Lots of feathers, lots of neon colors. Seriously, WHO would wear this crap? I came in for my shift, looked at the racks and gave the manager on duty my horrified jaw dropped look. He looked up at me from his clipboard and said, "Ugh, I know." I mean really, neon pink tulle over candy apple red and black floofy feathers at the neck line? It's been weeks and I have yet to sell one piece of that god awful lingerie. Hm, wonder why?

What really amazes me, more so than the hideous explosion of crap that took over part of our store, so many people come in looking for something plain. So many women come in saying they want something sexy. I show them our garters and corsets, which by the way are super hot, they shake their head and say, nah. I show them our teddies with see-through lace and plunging V-neck, nope they don't want that either. We happen to walk by a black or red satin gown that comes down to the knees and they want that one. Really? That's like a granny gown cut short. I've even had brides come in saying they need honeymoon lingerie. I usher them to our hottest stuff, nope they don't want it. I try showing them our slinky stuff, costumes, teddies, bra/pantie sets, nope they want the satin gown that goes to their knees.

One woman came in the store and said she needed lingerie to impress her boyfriend. She of course went straight for the granny crap. I crinkled my nose and looked at her. She laughed and said, "What? It looks comfortable." I responded with, "Do you plan on getting laid tonight, because it's not gonna happen in that?" She laughed said, "Everything else looks so uncomfortable." I stepped back and said, "How long do you think you're gonna be wearing this?" I gave her an armful of our hottest stuff and pushed her into a fitting room. She called out to me and opened the door. She was wearing the french maid costume I picked out for her. She shrugged her shoulders and said, "What do you think?" I stood there hands on hips, looked her up and down and said, "I'd do ya." She bought two of the outfits I picked for her. She came back a week later and told me thank you. Apparently I know how men think, I was dead on, and she couldn't be happier. I smiled at her and said, "Ah, well, saving sex lives one customer at a time, that's what we underwear sales girls do."

LOTS of men come into that store, and they aren't shy about telling us what they want. I've never had a man come in the store and pick a plain satin gown that comes to the knees. Yeah, our sexier stuff may be a tad uncomfortable to wear, but seriously it's not like you're gonna be wearing it for over five minutes anyway. If you give extra kisses you get bigger hugs (bonus points if you can tell me where that movie quote is from).

So ladies, good luck V-day shopping, and if you aren't sure, ask a sales girl, TRUST ME, she has a plethora of underwear knowledge. We've seen it all, heard it all, and people who have healthy, happy sex lives are less likely to be rude to us the next time they come in the store. So please, let us help you, help us.

Then The Clouds Parted And The Sun Came Out

2010-01-26T11:53:00.004-06:00

My life has been chaos these last few days. The store is being renovated, so we had to move all the merchandise to a temporary location. Talk about a bitch. I've gotten about 2-3 hours of sleep each night because they have a team of us working random hours, 12pm-1am, 5pm-2am, 6am-2pm. Plus I have group projects due for school and I typically get stuck in the group full of idiots.

ANYWAYS, I only have two more weeks of this retail crap! I found a job, I got an offer on Monday for a payables position! No more undies, random hours, or minimum wage! We also got an offer on the house. It's a short sale, so an offer does us no good unless the bank accepts it. We'll see, it's just a waiting game right now.

I don't think I've ever been so thankful for a job. Of course most people are thankful for their jobs, they pay bills, or at least some bills. For some it adds a sense of accomplishment, and for some it's just a means of getting out of the house. I've always SAID that I was thankful for my job, but I didn't really get it until I couldn't pay the mortgage, or find any other position, and the possibility of detouring from my profession came up. I am TRULY thankful for this position, and that I can get back in my field!

In terms of the house, the legal proceedings are a pain in the butt. Basically the bank holds all the cards and it's up to them how much of a loss they want to take. Personally I see it like this-they either allow us to sell the house to this guy and lose some, or they'll foreclose on us and lose more than some. Makes sense? Probably not to the banks. The realtor thinks we have a chance, I guess we'll see. I used to love that house. It was mine and Ryan's first home we purchased, we re-did rooms, painted, put in carpet, added a privacy fence, a lot of sweat and money went into that house. Now, I just want it gone so that we can move on. Hopefully this is our shot.

Hm...Any Ideas?

2010-01-23T12:29:00.005-06:00

Valentine's Day is approaching. We have the new Valentine lingerie in at the store, I would say that Walmart and Target have their Valentine's decor for sale, but Mardi Gras is going on down here right now and it's all about Mardi Gras. The Valentine's stuff is limited to 1/4 of an aisle in the back corner, Mardi Gras stuff gets front and center stage. Speaking of Mardi Gras, on the actual Mardi Gras day, all schools and businesses are closed. How strange.

Valentine's Day was typically another special day when Ryan was usually gone, but he'll be home for it this year. Ryan and I don't usually celebrate Hallmark holidays-Valentine's Day, Sweetest Day, St. Patty's Day, ect. We celebrate birthdays, Christmas, Thanksgiving, 4th of July, and Military Spouse Appreciation Day. WHAT? The last one is totally legit! We DESERVE a day, OK. Anywho...

I want to do something special for him, something that tells him "I love you", but without words. We have ZERO money, and I've made him things in the past to tell him I loved him, he read it, said "Thanks babe" and went back to whatever he was doing before. He's a dude, what can I say. Romantic dinners and naughty things after are expected. I have no idea what to do here. Anyone have any ideas? What are you guys doing for Valentine's Day?

Yes, Another List

2010-01-23T01:10:00.001-06:00

So, enough with the pity party. I was having a very...reflective day, and of course as soon as I hit the publish button I cringed and thought to myself, "Well that probably wasn't a good idea...oh well." I want to thank all of you for your encouragement through this extremely frustrating time in my life, but in all honesty a lot of people out there have it so much worse than me. I need to stop whining and sniffling and just get over myself.

I was catching up on my blog reading when I discovered I had just been given several awards. I just received six, yes SIX, awards from Ocean Dreams! I guess, upon accepting the award, you're supposed to do this ten list thing. I don't like following the rules, so normally I would graciously accept the award and that's that, but seeing how the depression clouds keep rolling in, I could probably use this ten-things-that-make-me-happy list. And seriously, the chick just gave me SIX of them. Holla! Here we go pals and gals...
1. My husband.
2. My friends and blog readers.
3. Coffee, I would be lost without thee.
4. Heroes, the TV show. I look forward to this show every week, it's my favorite!
5. My car that runs well and is not in the shop getting repaired every other week like some vehicles I have owned.
6. Cable internet, so that I can do school at the speed of light! Or, well, super fast anyways.
7. Libraries. Books are expensive dude, but borrowing them from the library costs naaaadaaaaa! (That was me singing by the way.)
8. Proactive. Yes, the skin program, God knows the issues I would have without it.
9. That Alison is roughly the same size I am and allowed me to rifle through her closet before I moved away.
10. Thor...as in my dog. He's actually been more of a comfort these last three months than I could ever imagine a pet to be.

Random Thoughts I've Never Had The Guts To Openly Express

2010-01-22T10:35:00.001-06:00

Last year I spoke of several posts that I would never have the balls to hit the publish button on. I just figured I would keep these posts in the draft file and never send them out to bloggoworld. Some of these posts are running lists of emotions. This post is one of those lists. I started compiling this list in October, and have added things to it since. I recently looked back on it; unfortunately, I still feel the same and it's been 3.5 months.

A woman told me today that there's a strong possibility that I might have put my career on hold to move down here to be with Ryan. She said that she respected me a lot for that, since I seem like the career driven type. My first reaction to this thought was, I'm married, I didn't think there was any other option other than to move to where he was. I'm ex-military, we go where our husbands are stationed, I didn't think twice. My second thought was, Is it still admirable if I complain about it all the time?

I hate this place with the fiery burn of a thousand suns. This place meaning Louisiana. When other military wives would talk about Virginia with the same fiery hate, I didn't understand, now I do.

I'm afraid the bitterness I feel about my job situation, financial situation, and house situation will overtake me and I'll be miserable to be around.

Even when Ryan was deployed, I've never felt more alone than I have the last three months.

Even though I feel alone, I have no desire to meet people, go out and do things, or become involved in the community. I know...that makes absolutely no sense. If you feel alone you go out, become involved, meet people. I feel alone and want to do nothing but become a hermit in my condo.

I feel so hopeless and disgustingly needy. I fully realize that your state of mind has a lot to do with how you live, and here I am crippling myself with my own attitude. I repulse myself, but have no idea what to do to fix this.

I'm afraid my negativity will push what few people I have, away.

I'm afraid of being a disappointment, mostly to myself.

I envy people who are happy all the time. I'm sure their lives aren't a bed of roses, how are they so happy all the time?

Hitting the publish button on these thoughts will make me feel vulnerable and weak.

I finally finished putting the last boxes away, and the guest room is cleaned up and ready to be used. As I hung the last picture it dawned on me that hanging this picture symbolizes that I live here now. That this is my life. I took the picture back down, sat in the bathroom and cried.

My best friends are coming to see me, and yet I'm not sure if they should come. I don't want them to see me like this. I've always been the logical one who has everything together, I'm not that person right now. I thought my mentality towards this place would be different by now, and it's not.

I wish there was a dimmer switch for your mind. The store's business has slowed down, and I have all this time to do nothing but think. I'm not so sure that's good for my mental health.

Random Thoughts I Had Today

2010-01-21T18:40:00.003-06:00

In my next life, I'd like to come back as a rich person's pet. I'm not even rich and my dog has an AMAZING life. Imagine what a rich pet's life is like.

Fruit roll-ups have got to be the most incredible things ever.

For every pair of shoes I want to buy, some random and heinous bill comes in the mail. Maybe God is trying to tell me something.

I don't know what's more pathetic, the fact that I can't find an actual "adult" job, or that I define myself by my career...or lack of a career...or by the career that I previously had...good lord I have issues.

What woman would wear this crap? Seriously, this has got to be the most god awful lingerie I have ever seen in my life. Oh geez, that lady over there is buying it...

It rains here in Louisiana ALMOST as much as it rains in New York.

I should take up cage fighting, I have a lot of pent up aggression. (This of course occurred to me after I dismantled and beheaded a mannequin that was in my way of clocking out.)

I could eat spaghetti or pizza every day for the rest of my life.

Talents

2010-01-18T20:51:00.000-06:00

I was never the talented one in the family. Unless of course you count being able to eat an entire pizza by myself in one evening, speak in run-on sentences with minimal breath, or being able to recite all the songs from Mary Poppins from memory. Yeah, I keep a scrapbook, dress reasonably trendy, and my home is decorated tastefully, but that's only because I have Google who searches scrapbook layouts for me, mannequins in the store that I copy from, and design blogs that I follow. My dad is an actor, my mom designs jewelry and her own card line, and my sisters are the ones with all the artsy genes. If you give each of us a piece of paper and a pen, you'll get something different back. A sketch from Jackie, a music bar from Lauren and a monthly budget from me. (What can I say...I'm bad to the bone.) This is why I have two sisters going to art schools and I am in business school. Corporate strategies, budgeting and matrices just make sense to me.

My artistic ability begins and stops each morning when I use make-up to cover up the dark circles under my eyes. Normally if I need something artistic I call Jackie or I go to Target. There is an endless list of people waiting for one of Jackie's paintings (myself included, which is crap by the way), so normally I go to Target. Even Target is to expensive right now, and I had a project I needed to accomplish. A few canvases later I had myself a painting. No, it's not something you'll see in an art museum, magazine or probably even the dollar store, but seriously I've seen worse, so I think I did pretty good for someone with 0 artistic genes.

This whole project got me thinking about talents and what some people are gifted with. I really like to see what some people can do, I find it so interesting. I love to see Jackie's new paintings or hear Lauren's vocals. Some people have the gift of cooking and their food tastes as divine as it looks. Others can do some pretty cool things with a camera. Some can analyze a business strategy like there's no tomorrow...I had to put that in there guys, it's all I got. Here's a list of some pretty talented people in bloggo world:

http://newdressaday.wordpress.com/
This chick is using a dollar a day to find clothes at flea markets and garage sales, and turning them into some awesome creations! Check her out, she's amazing!

http://amycrispfife.blogspot.com/
She doesn't do vlogs everyday, but she sang in the ones she has done. Check out the one where she sings the song from The Little Mermaid.

http://www.thetypingmakesmesoundbusy.com/
This girl is hilarious, and yes comedic qualities are a talent, I have met tons of dry, boring, lifeless people lacking any sense of humor at all. I was once an accountant, remember?

http://downandoutchic.blogspot.com/
Check out her Etsy shop, her stuff is beautiful!

What are some of your talents?

Dating Or Torture?

2010-01-17T14:20:00.010-06:00

There are so many dating sites-Match.com, Chemistry.com, eHarmony.com. There are just as many dating type shows on TV right now. The Bachelor, Frank the Entertainer, Tough Love, My Antonio, the list goes on and on. Regardless of whether these dating shows are real or not, we watch them. Their ratings are high. We like watching the dating, we like watching relationships. I watch some of these shows, guilty pleasure what can I say, and they have made me appreciate the fact that I am married, SO MUCH.

I asked my friend Bob, who was single not that long ago, how the dating world was. He said it was rough, you spend all this time trying to build a relationship with someone you feel a spark with, only to find out they're crazy, needy, clingy; or you just end up with a lot of one night stands. He says the one night stands eventually do get old. You hit a point where you want a relationship, not just sex all the time.

I got married young, real young, 21 years-old young. A lot of people have asked me if I regret marrying that young. I'm one of the lucky ones, when I got married I had no clue what I was doing or who I was for that matter. My childhood was a difficult one, I was never allowed to truly be myself, I was who my father told me I would be. Well, when you move out and are out on your own and don't have someone drilling into you day after day, you truly discover who you really are.

Ryan was in for a surprise. He thought he was marrying a good little traditional Christian girl. About a year into the marriage, the tattoo's came out, my obsession with motorcycles came out, my love of fantasy, and obsession with my career also came out. I wasn't the person he married at all. Of course people change through life. You grow, you learn, you change. I however, changed drastically. I went from no drinking, to being able to knock back shots of vodka no problemo. I went from absolutely no porn in my house whatsoever, to, welllll...a little bit of porn isn't so bad (hehehe). I went from, the woman does the housework and the man earns the paycheck, to, muthafucka you best be puttin' your dishes in the dishwasher and your clothes in the hamper, it's YOUR turn to cook dinner, I'm a career working, school studyin' foo! I went from tattoo's are bad because they defile the temple of the Holy Ghost, which is your body, to, dude I'd totally get a full sleeve if I could afford it. I went from...well, you get the idea. I truly believe that THIS, who I am now, is who I truly am, and I'm still discovering new things about myself. I suppose that's what life is, as life changes, so do you and you learn things as you go.

I say I'm one of the lucky ones, because Ryan says that he loves me more than when he first married me. I honestly don't know how I got so lucky. Some men would pull out the, "You're not who I married, you've changed, I don't love you anymore, I loved who I thought you were" card. Ryan doesn't. Ryan was right there with me, through all the changing, through all the discovering, Ryan was right there. He's committed, and he loves me. Maybe he has white knight syndrome, well if he does, I'm glad. We have our issues just like every other couple, but I'm glad Ryan's stuck with me through all my bullshit. He says it's worth it, I guess he sees something I don't. I'm getting off topic here...

Dude, if I was in the dating world, I would have NO CLUE what to do. What do you even wear on a date? You don't want to look too casual, but not too slutty. What do you talk about? Your career, family, pet? I don't know, I haven't dated since I was 19, and I can't even remember what I had for breakfast let alone what I did on dates. You guys that are out there dating, what the heck do you do? Do you just wait and hope that someone incredible comes around? Do you sit at the bar, scoping out the men/ladies and pick one out? What happens if you're dating someone for weeks, months, whatever and find out they're a code red? You just wasted all that time! What if you live in a tiny little town full of cousins and crazy's? GAH! I'm just going to hope that Ryan continues to see himself as the lucky one in our relationship.

I fully realize that there are some people out there that are getting up there in years and STILL have yet to find that special someone. My friend Eddie* for example, he's 40, just got married. Although he says differently, it's written all over his face, he got married because he was getting older and didn't want to be alone. He didn't get married because he's completely enthralled in the girl he's with. If he was, he would have moved to where she was (in a foreign country), instead he lives in the US, and she's elsewhere and they get together every other week or something. It makes no sense. Does the fear of spending the rest of their lives as a bachelor or bachelorette drive people to just marry or find someone, anyone?

What about the girl/guy who's with a guy/girl for a year, over a year, YEARS, and is fully expecting to get/pop a proposal? They've talked about it, everything points in that direction, you've met all the parents, only to have the guy/girl tell them he's/she's not the marrying type. WTF? Then what the hell are we doing? One of my sisters friends recently dealt with that, she was devastated.

I'm so glad I don't have to deal with any of that. I'm so glad I met Ryan when I did, and I'm so glad Ryan has been patient with me. I work with a bunch of college students, some are in relationships, some aren't. Just hearing some of their stories, makes me appreciate the fact that I have Ryan and we've been married for five years, that much more. Some of these girls stories are just plain in sane. Finding out the guy has three other girlfriends, besides them. Finding out the guy has a drug problem on the side. Finding out the guy has kids from two other women and he has no idea where the women or kids even are. What in the world? One girl was going to a party after her shift, a guy she really liked was going to be there, and she was stressing out because she wanted to impress him so much. I couldn't help thinking to myself-"Man, on my days off I'm pretty impressed with myself when I put on mascara. Ryan tells me I'm beautiful whether I'm frumpy looking or not."

It's rough out there. No wonder people settle with whoever they can find. They're probably so glad that they found someone, regardless of their bad habits or craziness, that they just deal with it. No wonder people get back with their ex's, and no wonder there are crazy cat ladies out there. Forget this whole trying to find a man bullshit I'm just gonna get me a house of cats, they'll keep me company just fine!

Good luck all you daters out there, swimmin' in the pond. I don't know how you do it...

Is Facebook The New Phone Call?

2010-01-13T18:42:00.001-06:00

If you would please scroll down and look to your right you will see MY FIRST BLOG AWARD EVER! Elizabeth from Musing Experiences sent it to me, how sweet of her! Thank you Elizabeth!

Ok, back to your regularly scheduled post. We have so many different forms of communication nowadays. Technology has made so many things possible. Twitter, Facebook, Blogger, Myspace, LinkedIn, it's crazy all the ways we can communicate with people without even having to see them or talk to them on the phone.

I wonder if it's really a help or a hindrance? On one side I personally am very thankful for email, Facebook, blogging, ect. These incredible tools have enabled me to keep better in touch with people all over the world. Being ex-military we have friends all over the country and overseas. I'm not super awesome about making sure I call everyone very often, and in terms of actually writing, like as in snail mail, call yourself lucky if you get a Christmas card. I'm just not very good at that stuff, but with the Internet I don't have to be; however, I wonder how many times I have given my friends my blog address and instead of personally emailing them to let them know what's going on in my life they just read about it on my blog. It's almost like its taken the personal touch out of friendships.

For awhile I had a Twitter account, a LinkedIn account, Facebook, Myspace and my blog. Keeping up with all that crap is exhausting! If you update one, you have to update the other, because certain people have Facebook, but no Myspace, some Twitter, some don't. GAH! I actually logged how many hours a week I spent Twittering, Facebooking, ect. (yes cuz I'm a dork like that). I averaged 21 hours a week. That's three hours a day dedicated to updating virtual profiles, statuses and making sure I kept up with everyone elses profiles, status updates, blogs, ect. At the time I was still working at Diablo, I have no idea how I was managing working 50+ hours a week, full time school, pets, 14 hours of virtual page updating, and friends. What the hell was I thinking? I wasn't actually interacting with anyone, I was just reading what everyone else wrote and in turn updating myself.

A couple months ago I deleted my Twitter, LinkedIn and Myspace accounts. I now only have Facebook and my blog, much more manageable and I feel like I can participate instead of just scrolling through status updates. I wonder how many of us are actually losing touch with loved ones simply because we aren't actually interacting with them, we're simply reading their Facebook status. Marina (the BFF in Spain) isn't super fantastic with keeping in touch with people either. Neither one of us are phone people, we're not super fantastic emailers either, but we have AIM. (I know right, how high school of us.) Marina and I talk at least twice a week, thanks to instant messaging. Without that I'm not sure we would keep in touch as well through just blogging and Facebook. It's the back and forth interaction, the conversation that keeps us in tune with each other; not me posting on Facebook the funny thing Thor did the other day and Marina commenting back how crazy our pups are.

As much as technology enables us to achieve and overcome, I wonder how much it hinders us? Do we even realize it? Am I the only one who feels like I'm jipping my friends and family when I hear them say, "Oh I read your blog the other day, that's too bad..."? Don't get me wrong, this is not a post saying we should ditch technology and go back to snail mail. If it wasn't for Facebook I would never be able to get ahold of my baby sister or keep in touch with old friends. I'm simply saying that sometimes I feel like I've fallen into a rut. A virtual rut, a rut that has caused me to talk to my friends through my blog or Facebook instead of emailing them, texting them or calling them to tell them I'm thinking of them.

Then again, maybe this is just the path our society is headed. Instead of phone calls or Hallmark cards we'll get comments stating, "Hey what's up!" or "I was thinking of you the other day..." It is more environmentally friendly.

Confessions Of An Underwear Sales Girl-Now What

2010-01-12T23:39:00.001-06:00

Last week I was talking to the store manager about stuff-family, jobs, ect. She said that she wasn't from here but she's worked for this certain underwear store chain for nine years. She had hopes of being hired on at the corporate office when she worked in that certain city, but now that she lives in Louisiana, she no longer has that option. I looked up from the rack I was straightening, and asked her what she was going to do now, she's gone up as far as she can in this corporate ladder. She shrugged and said, "There's nowhere else for me to go, and there's no jobs here in this state. This is it for me." She's 28.

I couldn't help but be sad for her and worried for myself. I can't find ANYTHING in accounting. Nothing. There's just nothing here. No big corporate offices, and the little mom and pop places aren't hiring. They probably can't even afford the help they have! Not even the big banks in New Orleans are hiring! You could tell in her voice that she didn't want to just settle and be a retail store manager, she wanted to continue going up the ladder but she just didn't have that option. Her husband's job is here so it's not like she can move away to where she can have more options. She's stuck. Sounds familiar.

I know I won't be happy just being a sales girl for the rest of my life, but what if I don't find anything in accounting...for awhile. I have to make a paycheck, THAT isn't an option. I know I should be happy for even having a job, and I truly am; however, I was made for the corporate ladder. I'm happiest when I have career inspired goals to meet, a corporate ladder to climb, and multiple projects going on. No, cleaning up multiple tables of pantie mayhem does not constitute as multiple projects. Am I just being a spoiled brat here? I have a job, I have a husband who has a job, some don't even have that. Am I horrible for wanting more, for wanting to be challenged more? I know plenty of people who are completely content with their job knowing that they won't go any further than where they are. I'm just not one of those people. I don't know how you turn that off, I wish I did...