Wednesday, December 28, 2011

what do I want to be when I grow up? Part 2: Who are you?

"The Caterpillar and Alice looked at each other for some time in silence: at last the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth, and addressed her in a languid, sleepy voice.
'Who are you?' said the Caterpillar."

There is a screaming baby in my living room so I am not sure how long I will be able to write. Daddy has his screaming baby, I promise I have not just abandoned my child to cry, though at times it feels that way when I need to make a meal for the rest of my family or take a shower. Unlike I, she does not consider these things important.

Remember a while back when I was talking about what I want to be when I grow up? Well the thought has been plaguing me again. You see, I have just a few short years before I am entirely free (well, when kids are in school), however I have even less time until I have a little extra time on my hands. Once Kaylee is 1-2ish and less "hold me!" and perhaps takes a regular nap (or two) I will suddenly find myself free to perhaps start something. Oh the crying baby is asleep! My wonderful amazing husband is the one that did it. Have I perhaps mentioned that he is wonderful and amazing? If not let me do that now.

Speaking of...he and I were on a date last night and we were talking a bit about this. The whole job thing, not the crying baby.

The question come up, what do I really like doing?

Option 1 of course is go back to school. I need to finish my degree, and it is something I really want to do. Of course in thinking that, I speculated what I would want to study. I no longer believe a Communications degree is really what I want, but do I finish that just to have it finished, or do I go on the path that I want to be my true career? I said in this conversation that for sure, no matter what degree I ended up getting that I want to take some creative writing coarses.

You know how when you are good at something, say as a teenager and EVERYONE goes on about how great you are? Say you then, wanting to do this with your life, go to school specifially for that and you are for the first time surrounded by people just as good and much better then you at this particulour thing and you realize you are no longer special? I want that for creative writing. It is not that I consider myself to be excellent at it in any way, but I know it is something that I CAN do and I want to be surrounded by motivation to learn how to do it better. I want to aspire and I want someone who will unbiasedly tell me how to be better.

Most of you know I was home schooled all through-out the first part of my life. College was the first time I had ever known a real classroom. I can remember vividly on my first day, going into the classroom. I sat at the desk, fresh notebook in front of me, new pen in hand and started taking notes as the professor started listing information we needed to know. As I sat there I remember a thrill going through me, my dear friend Emily would call it The Flash. If you do not know Emily you should ask me about her. She should be friend to all in my opinion. Basically it was the pure joy of living coursing through my vains. Brought upon by the General Ed health class on my first day of college. I was good at this! I all of a sudden knew it. I had never known it before. I had only ever just done the work in front of me. I had never even thought to consider whether I was good at it or not. But here I was, finally in a real school surrounded by people, taught by a person and I was able to take notes well! I could write complete intelligent papers, I could study and master information in order to get good grades. This felt amazing to me! All through-out my college career I kept that flash. Certainly classes got old and homework tedious. But I always knew I loved to learn, so as frustrated as I got with classes I knew in the end I would look back on the time with joy and longing. I met my now husband in college, I met amazing friends that I still cherish. I "found" myself I suppose you could say. Confused as I may still be with my professorial future.

All that to say, going back to college excites me. I think I would LOVE it.  I have no illusions about how much hard work it will be. And when the time comes I will complain about teachers, and stress about work-load. But I will be learning. I have grown rusty at learning in my stay-at-home-momness.  It is a thirst that has been put on hold, but I will get there again.

We have had conversations about what can be done professionally as a creative writer.  I would love to write for the local paper. But I did terrible in my paper article writing class (see, I can't even remember what it was cal...journalism! That was it!) I did terrible in my journalism class because I was too wordy. I can write a 10 page paper and at the end of it I have said absolutely nothing.  But I can guarantee you will smile while you read it. So I would have to be a columnist of some sort. Short entertaining blurbs that don't really matter. I would enjoy that, but the chances of getting that job is rather slim.

I am a reader. Apparently that is odd since my eyes do this weird thing and the eye doctor says I should not enjoy reading because of it. But - I love reading just the same. Perhaps it is my mile-wide stubborn streak. I Especially love books that are written in a very particular way. I'm certain there must be a name for it. But Peter Pan, Pooh and Alice are all written like this. Some George McDonald and E. Nesbit books are as well. The author is almost a character. He has opinions, talks about the characters and sometimes to them. He is almost a narrator, but not completely because it is not just events he is describing but he is actually telling the story to the reader. You feel the author is almost in the room with you, painting the story as a masterpiece right there in your living room as you sit at his feet mesmerized.

So I have decided to write a book. I want to write it in this style so most likely it will be a kids book, though I am not certain of that. Perhaps my lovely sister would do the illustrations once we get there? How many innocent people have claimed they want to write a book? No clue, but I have now joined their ranks. I am not certain when this book will begin, who it will be about or why. But I want the reader to laugh for joy as they peruse it's humble pages. I would make it of a little girl who wants to be a pirate but I fear that has already been done.  So I will have to come up with something entirely creative. Any ideas?

"The Caterpillar and Alice looked at each other for some time in silence: at last the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth, and addressed her in a languid, sleepy voice.
'Who are you?' said the Caterpillar.
This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, 'I - I hardly know, sir, just at present - at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.'"

I am not entirely sure at the moment who I am, I fear I have changed so many times in the past 8 years or so that it is a bit fuzzy. But I am fully confidant that when the time is write - I shall know. 

Friday, December 16, 2011

Of paper planes and porcupines.

You know that old lady at church? The one that when you first meet her she says "We don't shake hands, we hug around here!"

Yeah, I hate that old lady.

I think it started when I was about a pre-teen. It was then that I discovered I was different. It started when I discovered I hated it when people touched my pillows. I know, weird. But you know as kids you hang out together in bedrooms, that is where your own things are. And I hated it when my friends touched my pillows! (this phobia was slightly less severe then my unusual fear of toothpaste. A phobia I still suffer from.) I could deal with it if it happened. But I didn't like it. Then it morphed into not really wanting to stand to close to people. You know those people that don't seem to have any sense of personal space and you find yourself leaning backwards while talking to them in an attempt to put a little distance between you without being obvious? Yeah there were several of those in my life at the time and it REALLY bothered me. A Beloved friend of mine used to tell me I had a very large and very thick personal space bubble. "Get into Sarah's bubble and you know it!"

I discovered that I emmited a very strong vibe.  A "don't touch me" vibe.  This is one of those fascinating things about humans.  How did everyone know? I never said it, I never acknowledged it. Yet if you spent any time around me you knew it to be so. What drove me insane the most? People that picked up on the vibe, knew it full well and still forced hugs. This is not a big deal to me now.  But as a teenager? I hated you for it. Church High school group youth leaders were the worst. Where does it say in the Bible that everyone has to hug everyone else?!?

Well, time went on and I entered into a world of theatre. Now, those actor types? VERY touchy. I knew friends that would kiss one another on the lips just as a general greeting. One of my friends had a weird biting thing and would regularly grab your arm, bite you and walk away. I think a squeeze on the ass was pretty standard as well. So within that group I was an outcast. I was lucky enough to never land a romantic role...of course with the whole "don't touch me vibe" that may have been the decision of my directors.  "No one will believe her anyway, just put her in the funny role!" Ok so I wasn't a great actor.

A while ago I read an article. My eyes went up in shock as I read this . You mean I am not alone!?! I cannot tell you how wonderful it was. For so long I had been this way, but never really thought it all out. I just knew this made me uncomfortable and everyone else seemed so ok with it. It felt great to get my prejudices out in the open.

I have a very dear friend. She and I were recently talking. We were laughing over how we two had been so very similar our whole lives. As an example of this we both spoke of our hatred of the standard hugging. She laughed and shared a story of herself years ago. As a part of a church group there was a poor gentleman who wanted to make her acquaintance on a more-then-friendship level. Whether it was coincidence or not she came to his house once for a group meeting to discover it was only the both of them. Knowing he had had his eye on her for a while she found herself in the moment of awkwardness. To hug or not to hug? This is a church thing after all, doesn't that mean we HAVE to hug? But being alone in his house the moment was feeling not right in her head. Sensing her uneasiness he stated the ever popular "I'm just a huggy person" to which she replied (and correct me if I did not get this phrase exactly right) "I'm just a prickly porcupine kind of person."

Yes! That explains me exactly. I am a porcupine! I bet in the world of porcupines no one feels like they have to hug one another just to be culturally accepted.

Now I would like to enter in here that this fear of personal connections does not apply to my husband and children.  I love their hugs more then I can say.  It is the feeling as if I have to hug someone to maintain personal dignity that I hate. And to be even more ironic if my above mentioned friend were to walk in my door right now the first thing I would do is run over to her and give her a hug. As she would me.

Perhaps it is not just the feeling compelled (though my natural rebellion does play a part in this) It is that I only really like giving hugs to people I love. I don't love the old lady that I just met 12 seconds ago. I don't love the creepy guy trying to unsuccessfully lure me alone into his apartment. Ok, so I'm sure that was not the intent. I don't love acquaintances that I see occasionally. I will hug those that I love, family and beloved friends...if they want me too. It doesn't bother me. I even want to on occasion. But I just don't see hugging as requirement for friendship. I can be your friend without all the awkwardness. Right? Ok, maybe this is all just me and I need to get over it already.

Though I will say one thing: Please, if I don't hug you do not take offense. I honestly don't think about it. So I am not trying to avoid you, it is just not my normal way of interacting with someone. Just as I do not automatically smack someone on the behind every time I meet them. Heehee, wouldn't that be great:

"We don't shake hands here at this church, we smack behinds!" Now that would be an awesome church! get the idea.

And just to be clear, this post has absolutely nothing to do with paper airplanes. I just liked how it sounded.

Merry Christmas all!

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

'Tis The Season

Alright - I have my cup of tea in hand, I have a sleeping baby and Ayla is set up in the living room watching Charlie Brown. I am ready for...Oh this tea did not steep enough.  Oh bother! And it is my favorite PG tips tea and it is weak.  Blah.  Should I make another cup or deal with this one?  Hold on, I have to make another cup.  I want to ENJOY my tea.  I will be back.

Alright, the water is heating.

Do you know we don't have a Christmas tree yet? It is...hold on. December 7th and no Christmas tree graces our home. Of course waiting means that there is hope for a green tree on the actual holiday. And waiting is the wise financial move, it is also better to get one when we have the time to decorate it. Ideally 2-3 hours at home without plans of going out anywhere. 2-3 hours at home has been very rare lately.  When I first became a stay at home mom I would go insane being home all the time. When my Wonderful Amazing Husband would come home in the evening all I wanted to do was get out of the house, and all he wanted to do was stay in and relax.  I don't have that problem anymore. With carting kids to and from school, dr. appointments, playdates, church activities and general grocery shopping it feels sometimes as if we are never home.  Though we are home today, and the reason is because we have Life Group tonigth which means it needs to be possible at the very least to walk through my livingroom without tripping on mountians of toys and laundry.  And as you can see I have gotten a great start on all that by sitting and writing here. Does that go under the category of housewife fail? I think it does.  Don't you think it is funny that everyone says "Fail!" now? No one said that when I was a kid. Oh my, I just had an old moment.  Did you see it? Ugg. I will admit though, I am thoroughly entertained by current slang no matter my age.

Now I must check on my steeping tea.

Much better! I'm glad. Because I was not about to make a third cup. A third cup is where I draw the line.  I may be a tea snob, but I also have a blog to write and a house to clean. No time to make a third cup of tea...although there is a good chance it would have taken me a shorter amount of time to make said cup of tea then it took me to write all that out up there.  Heehee, that also entertains me.

I have enjoyed life lately. I have discovered that there are very specific things I need to stay content. I need kids that learn their lessons the first time. I don't mind the occasional tantrum or two. But I cannot stand multiple tantrums about the same thing. I need sex (won't my kids love reading that someday?) I need a once a week date with my husband and once a week alone time. I need some time once a day or so to spend alone talking to God and at least 3 books a day read to my children. I need kid hugs and baby kisses and at least a few hours a week spent with dear friends. I need coffee and tea, I need chocolate (especially in cookie form) and bread fresh right out of the oven with butter. I need a house that is clean-up-able.  It does not always have to be clean, but I need to be able to make it clean in 15 minutes or so if I need to. I need sun and occasional rain, a good book and a warm husband. I need a hot bath every few days or so (I'm a mom, it is a rare thing) and a well rested baby. I need a place to go everyday and a reason to stay home on occasion. I need a place to pour out my heart if needed and a captive audience that enjoys reading my ramblings. I need to sing, even if I am not very good at it anymore. And I need soul-moving music to grace my home.  I need beauty and poetry, I need my Father in heaven and my family on earth. I need pictures and videos and Oh!  Guess what.  I have been watching old videos of the kids lately. So much fun!  I wonder if I could put some on here...

And this one?

Aw it is not letting me do more! One more try...


Oh isn't it fun!?!  Ok, so maybe my old home videos are pretty boring for someone that is not mother or perhaps grandmother to my kids. But they make me smile so much! I love it. I should also post some new pictures of my kids shouldn't I. Alright, here you go:

There are my big girls.

And my baby - She is getting so big I can hardly stand it!
Oop, baby girl is awake! I will try to write more soon.