Archive | June, 2012

Day 179

27 Jun

Here’s how my decision making process is going: pray/think about it incessantly; finally make decision; follow through on decision; horrified that I can’t tell if it was the right one or not; anxiously think about trying to make another decision to correct the first one.

Is this how other people do things?!

Day 178

26 Jun

I was going to show everyone a picture of my plants, which are all still alive btw, but my camera is a dirty Commie and wouldn’t turn on.  Something about “please charge the battery” or something.  I’m pretty technologically impaired, so who knows what’s going on.  (Snark!)

I’m thinking I’ll plan a birthday party for Zoe this year.  I saw on a friend’s Facebook some pictures of her daughter’s party, and I’m basically going to steal what she did.  And not really mention it to her because we’re only, like, periphery friends, really, so who cares?  I mean, maybe she does.  But I definitely don’t.  Which is why I have no qualms about taking her ideas.  

Maybe I can come up with something on my own, but I still feel like Zoe is so little it won’t really matter.  Like she’ll be excited that her family is around and that it’s Zoe-centric and, of course, the cake/cupcakes will all win her over.  But I doubt she’ll mind much if my theme is coherent or unique or hip.  And it’ll probably be none of those things, so I’m happy she’s only turning 3 and not some other age where she’d actually notice and care.  Like… 4.

I remember having birthday parties when I was little.  The last one I really remember was from when I turned 5 because it was a luau theme, with a pinata (sorry, I don’t know how to make the thing) that my cousin broke into with her fist and it made me cry, and I got a bike that was way too big for me.  Also I vaguely remember somehow overhearing or being told something about almost being adopted.  Although that might be bleeding in from any number of other ages and memories.  

Anyway…

Those are some of my favorite memories/pictures.  The special cake and candles.  The decorations.  Family all around.  I think Zoe and Lazarus will appreciate that we celebrated them, even if I always wonder if my attempts at parties are lame.  Hopefully they’ll grow up with a sense of the fact that it’s the thought that counts when stuff isn’t as you’d hoped.  Sometimes the thought is meaningless and stupid, but that’s something else entirely.

So what do you do to celebrate your/your kid’s/your family’s birthday(s)?  Any great theme ideas for toddler you’d like to share?

Day 176

24 Jun

Please enjoy this laughing baby.

Day 175

23 Jun

My kids are so unbelievably cute, but also make me so unbelievably worn out. I bet God made it that way on purpose.

Maybe I’ll just blog Monday through Friday. No one’s on the internet on the weekend anyway, right? They all have lives to live in the real world probably.

Day 174

22 Jun

Dear Everyone Who Reads My Blog,

THANKS. It’s weird to me that anyone is interested in reading this thing, especially because I have incredibly low self-esteem and don’t think I have anything special to offer the world. And I don’t think what I’m offering is special, do you? Not in a “this-is-so-profound-and-unique” sort of way at least. In a “weren’t-we-all-young-and-dumb-and-full-of-ennui?” sort of way, this blog (and me in person) are chocked full of weepy goodness.

So, thank you, dear readers of my blog– yes, all several dozens of you– for helping me realize I’m worth it, dammit. Why you read, I don’t know. And most of you are just lurkers (which is all I do with blogs, so no hate), but that’s okay. But that also makes me wonder if the 30-50 views my stats say I get are just the same person reading and refreshing just to mess with me. If that’s true, never let me know. Just keep it a secret.

Day 173

21 Jun

I guess I’m really failing at updating every day. I’m pretty okay with it. It was a good run, but I suppose I’ve basically given up. Maybe if Joe was still badgering me every day, but he’s simply not. Oh well.

On to what’s up with me (everyone’s dying concern, I’m sure): I’m thinking a lot about making decisions. Like I did about 5 years ago when I was trying to decide what was up with Joe and me and if we should get married or stop dating or what. Good lawd, I was an idiot then. And, unfortunately, I still am. Or decision making hasn’t gotten any easier or clearer now, anyway.

So I’m trying to make a decision, right? And here’s how I’ve decided to try to do it now (and if you think I’m weird, it’s cool, but try to keep from burning me at the stake): I’m praying, asking direct questions of God, and I’m expecting answers. I’ve done it before, and, actually, I’ve more or less adopted this style of praying for/about most things.

But, as you might guess, the real trick comes from knowing whether or not what I’m hearing as an answer is actual from God or not. Since he doesn’t usually speak to me in a physically audible way; you know, like my ear drums aren’t responsible for me hearing him. SO that’s sort of tricky and involves a lot of second guessing and asking again and again and again until I feel certain. I’m taking John 10:14 pretty literally.

So, anyway, I’m doing that.  It’s tricky.  And is difficult because I’m trying to be dependent on God to guide me rather than being independent, which I totes prefer.  And maybe it doesn’t matter; maybe I’ll end up doing whatever I want because, honestly, that’s what I usually do.  Hopefully there’s an “A for effort” in situations like this.

Day 171

19 Jun

I’ve decided, after calling myself a “non-reader”, that it’s simply not true.  I just can’t/won’t/don’t read much that requires a lot of thought and attention.  I think I’ve read about 6 or so books in the last 3 months.  Incredible.  I also think they were all young adult fiction.  Go figure. 

It has made me think about how my teenage years were, though.

I know there’s a lot of “letters to my 16-year-old self” in various forms out there in the ethers already, and I don’t really want to do that kind of thing anyway.  But I do sometimes try to remember what I was like slightly less than a decade ago.  Who was I; what did I think about; how did I survive with all those catastrophic emotions constantly running through me?  

I was such a mess for so long.  I was a true mess until just a year or so ago.  I’m still pretty sticky most of the time, in one way or another.  But I can’t remember much from when I was in high school.  I remember some of the more painful moments and probably some of the happiest ones, but a lot of the years 13-18 are kind of a giant blur.  Not because I was partying so much I was constantly blacked out, but more because I was such a blob of tears and angst that I was barely functioning.  I was constantly so scared of so many things that I’m surprised I didn’t simply keel over out of sheer exhaustion and fear.

What would I tell my 16-year-old self?  

Things’ll get better?  You’ll make it even if it feels like you won’t?  One day you won’t feel this crushing, all-consuming blackness that is so painful you can’t stand to stay awake sometimes?  Maybe.

Or maybe I’d just tell myself that life’s scary and always will be for you.  That it’s hard and takes more work than feels necessary for you.  That it’s okay to be this way.  You were made this way.  Maybe not for a reason, maybe not for anything good that you can ever understand, but you were surely made this way on purpose.  YOU were on purpose.  Even if you never feels that way, you were.

Or maybe I’d just flip my younger self off.  I was also kind of a bitch.

In so many, many ways, I’m glad those years are behind me.  I’d drench them in gasoline and flick a lit match at them if I had the chance.  I feel like now, as I enter my “mid-twenties”, I’m finally finding some closure from the wounds of childhood.  I’m finally starting to feel like I’m growing up.  Like I’ll be able to say with a straight face one day that I am, in fact, an adult.  Not a girl but a woman. 

That will be weird.

If it actually happens, that is.