Oh, I Forgot to Mention...

So, I'm constantly racking my brain for blog topics. If there's a gap between blog entries, it's more than likely because I am having a grumpy week and am working out the best way to solve my issues and not negatively blow up about them. I know that's sort of the opposite of how a lot of people blog since venting is a big help to them... I wish very much I could be that way! For me, though, I've found that when I allow myself to rant, it actually just fuels my negativity more and I don't constructively fix the problem; I just stew and stew until I bubble over into a big hot mess. So as I've said before, I'm only allowing myself to blog about things, not BITCH about things.



I realized today that I haven't blogged in a week. As soon as I began thinking about what I could possibly write about, I realized that Chris and I have the biggest news ever going on! Hello! I forgot to tell everyone...

We got a house!



Chris and I could not be happier! As soon as we locked it down, we went straight to Home Depot! Cosmetically it is a fixer-upper for sure, but we couldn't be happier about that. The great thing that Chris and I have in common is we LOVE to plan things for our home. We have the same style and vision. We both like older homes that look uber modern on the inside. We make Ikea our bitch, for sure. This house on the inside... well... is not modern. (To say the VERY least!)

The previous owner was an older woman who moved in circa 1960 and NEVER updated the style. Imagine that floral vine wall-to-wall wallpaper and hunter green carpets that all of our grandparents rocked in their houses at some point. And wood paneled walls? You betcha. 60's style kitchen with the stove in the cabinet? No doubt. Old-timey light fixtures and chandeliers? Of course. But, when most people probably shuttered at all the work that would have to be done, we got excited. All the work will allow us to constantly have a project to look forward to and to ensure that our first house will be completely personalized for us.

Since we have been renting the entire duration of our relationship, we've tried each time we move to get closer and closer to Atlanta. We both grew up in Lawrenceville and it has become progressively more run-down as the years have gone by. Our ultimate goal has always been to be "city-dwellers", but as our tastes and goals have changed, we decided we wanted an Atlanta address but a more suburban feel. Well, we found it! We honestly didn't think we'd find the right house so soon and were both prepared to rent for at least a few more years but you know, when it is right, it's right!

We are so happy and this unexpected surprise of finding a home we will be in for a very, very long time is a relief AND a joy! I'm sure the next few months before our move in date will be filled with pictures and project developments. Out with the old and in with the new... and it couldn't be more exciting!

Oh Night Divine?

Oh man, it's been a while. Well, I'm not going to lie to you, I've been in hiding for a reason. Please, take a deep breath and have a seat before you read this because... well... I hate Christmas.



There, I said it. I know it's awful and very "Bah-hum-bug" of me to admit it but sorry, I hate this time of year. Unfortunately I'm aware (if you know me at all) that your obvious response to this statement will be that I hate it because I'm not a Christian.

No, you would be very, very wrong about that.

I was raised Southern Baptist and my happiest memories to this day is still of listening to Christmas choir music and taking communion at church surrounded by all the light and love of Christian beliefs. To my husband's shock, my favorite Christmas song to this day is still "O Holy Night". Don't hate on my Southern Baptist heritage, folks. However, despite my agnostic beliefs counteracting all of the joy that I gather from my childhood traditions revolving around Christian morale, I still retain a soft spot for believing in Santa Claus and what it means for a young child. I may no longer believe that there was a woman who actually gave birth without ever having intercourse, but the idea of Santa Claus, to me, is still vital for the imagination of a young child's mind. Now... with all THAT said...

I hate this "new" Christmas. It's starting to feel a little TOO commercial, don't you think? When I was out shopping for gifts this month, I never saw one happy face. I never saw one wide-eyed child filled with excitement. I never saw an ounce of Christmas spirit. In it's stead, I saw angry women barking orders at their loud-mouthed children. I saw the looks in people eyes as if it was my fault when I almost got ran over in the mall parking lot... twice. I saw disappointment, venomous hatred, regret, and anxiety. Sure, these people probably went home spouting off on their Facebook statuses what a joy it will be to see the look on their children's faces Christmas morning but for real? It's almost as if they HAVE to say that. And I don't buy it.

The final straw for me was at the tail end of my Christmas shopping at Wal-Mart (which, I'm sorry, is my hell) when I stumbled in the door with $70 worth of junk, set my bags down with my frozen fingers because I forgot my gloves and realized... I didn't grab the $8 worth of gift wrapping I had purchased at U-Scan.

Kill. Me. Now...

Which was exactly what Chris was probably thinking when I went into a much-needed, well hidden for 2 weeks rampage. I threw the bags onto the floor and took off. I looked out our giant dining room window and cursed Christmas. I screamed to Chris about how much I didn't even care who got gifts this year 'cause they'd be forgotten by February. I made my way to the kitchen to roar about how I will feel awful, not blessed, at the gifts I receive from the people who really couldn't afford it anyway. I even pointed at our Christmas tree and said how dumb it looked without the lights working right and how I felt like a failure for not making it look better. That, I had screamed, was Christmas's fault, too.

I do, however, have hope. Last night, Chris and I went on our annual Christmas date. We decided last year that we don't need to buy gifts for each other and instead went to our favorite (and very expensive) restaurant. We don't go all year so that it will be special. We go on December 23rd when practically no one else is there. It's across the street from the Peachtree Plaza and the giant Christmas tree and all the lights shine right into the window across the street. It's OUR Christmas to each other and it's glorious. We got all dressed up and had an hour to kill before our reservation so I poured myself a glass of wine and turned on the television. I yelled for Chris that Home Alone was on so he hurried up from getting dressed and snuggled up next to me on the couch. We recited the lines we know so well and laughed. I looked over at our wonky, memory-filled Christmas tree and knowing exactly what I was thinking Chris goes "I love our Christmas tree". Last night was lovely, albeit just the two of us, but I have hope that tonight I'll feel the same way. Cousins I rarely see will hopefully open their gifts I picked out at that packed, tension-filled Wal-Mart and scream with glee. Even if they stop playing with them by tomorrow, that one scream will echo a lifetime. Hopefully the heat from the oven at Aunt Ronda's house will warm my chilly heart tonight.

Hopefully, I will hear "O Holy Night" and remember what it's like to love this time of year.

Thanksgivin' Me a Headache

Jeez Louise, people, I need to update.

Actually, I'll be honest for a second. I haven't blogged because I swore I'd be positive and think happy thoughts, Peter Pan style and... well... this week it has been hard to do that. I've been in a piss-poor mood and our house is currently filled with snarls and hair-raising fights. And I'm not talking about the dogs. Yikes, I know. The only way I can describe it is a big ol' funk lingering over our house. Every little thing Chris and I do annoys the hell out of the other. I can always tell the level of pissed I've gotten all week by how many glasses I break. This week, I'm down three. My good beer pilsners, too, so you know I was over the edge. Yes, I'm a dish breaker. It's dramatic, wasteful, unnecessary, and an all out bitch move but, well, it's my thing. Better in the sink than at his head, right?

...right?

So yes, this is why I haven't updated. Plain and simple: I didn't have anything fun or positive to say. I can't even pinpoint where the fighting is coming from but I'm willing to bet some more stemware that it's holiday stress. Either way, things will smooth out soon and until they do, I'll just drink my Pabst Blue Ribbons out of coffee mugs.

And speaking of holiday stress, this will be my first year helping with Thanksgiving! (Yay? I think?)



I've been honing my culinary skillz (yes, with a "z" since I'm gangster and because an "s" would imply I was somehow trained) and I'm really excited to show them off to everyone. I'm making a Food Network themed offering that includes:

Guy Fieri's Chorizo Chickpea Sautee
Paula Dean's Green Bean Casserole
Alton Brown's Baked Macaroni and Cheese
Guy Fieri's Roasted Carrots and Cippolini Onions

and a wildcard Raspberry Truffle Tart with some techniques I learned WATCHING the Food Network.

Sounds delicious, right? Well, let's hope so. Here's what the tart looks like so far. It's got to do it's thing in the fridge over night so it doesn't have any garnish but ain't it beautiful?



I'm also organizing all my recipe supplies by what dish they go in so that tomorrow morning I can haul the goods to my mom's house. They are going to have to sit tight over there while I'm gone, though, because Chris and I have to be at his side of the family's for Thanksgiving at 1pm. Then we have to rush back and I have to start on dinner. My emotions about all this time-crunching and food-making is fading in and out from dread to excitement and then back again. Like a hot flash. Yes, an emotionally-driven, Thanksgiving-charged hot flash. Awesome.



I know I say this a lot to you, Moms, but seriously, you rock. If I had a kid (or worse, PLURAL KIDS) I would be in the fetal position by noon tomorrow rocking back and forth between swigs from a warm Jack Daniels bottle. What gets you through, I'm sure, is your overwhelming drive to make memories for your children that will last them a lifetime and I dig that. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm excited about finally being included in the Thanksgiving cooking tradition. But deep down, I'm sort of in it for the self-satisfaction of my family commending me for an amazing meal. Yes, I was hugged enough, I assure you. But who doesn't want a boost every now and again? So moms, again, I adore you and your ability to suffer through the ups and downs of the holidays in the name of spirit and tradition.

And as for me, if the task at hand gets to be too much, well, I'll at least be at my mother's house and can throw her dishes around for a change.

Less wasteful, no?

Hear Ye, Hear Ye

The point of my blog is to be more positive. "Wag more, bark less" is an adopted mantra so that I keep from complaining or losing sight of all the good in things; both of which I have a habit of doing from time to time. I told myself I would never vent or blog negatively. I'm trying very hard to spin this current situation I'm in into something to observe at all angles and move on from. I do not plan on dwelling, or worse, letting myself down by ranting and raving. I will bark about this once, fellow readers, and then I will carry on for the better.




Firstly, it is not hard to be a good person. I don't mean charitable or nice or even compassionate... just a person that others can look at and go "I'm glad they are in my life". I think in this day and age of self-service and independence, people are losing sight of genuine human decency and manners. There are very few excuses for kindness to not be second nature to you. Friendliness makes the world go round. Whether its to the lady that pours your coffee or your own spouse, thoughtful consideration is what separates us from animals. If what I am saying seems like a lot to ask for, you are part of a huge problem.

With that said, I'm going on the record to say that by not possessing the mere good qualities that I simply expect of my own self, I'll kindly show you the theoretical door out of my life. When someone treats me with respect, they get mine ten fold. If someone makes me laugh, my new job is to make them laugh harder. If someone appreciates me, I show them consistently how I appreciate them. These are not things I am bragging about, people. This behavior is common sense. If you do not grasp the simple concept of give and take, please just sit in your house and avoid all human contact until you die alone. I don't ask for much, but if you can call me a friend because of the things I have done for you, just return the favor. If you don't, you are taking advantage of me... plain and simple. I'll happily stay out of your life. Everyone deserves people who makes their life meaningful if they themselves make others' life meaningful. If you aren't contributing to this very uncomplicated concept, get. the. fuck. out.

I don't think for a second that I'm being too harsh about this. I don't think I'm being big-headed when I say that I am a good person and deserve good people in my life. It is a privilege, not a right, to have people you can depend on.

There. Barking over. We will now continue with our regularly scheduled blogging.

Crazy Little Thing...

Chris and my relationship has never been normal. I'm sure a lot of couples say that about themselves, but I'm pretty sure ours raises the crazy bar just a little higher. Allow me to explain...

As you know from my past entry about Chris and my beginnings, he had a child before we even got back together. Well, there goes the infamous "first comes love" bit. Once love did come, though, boy did it come. For me to say I knew he was "the one" in the first week we got back together is an understatement. Even my own mom saw us back together for the first time and knew. We glowed. Literally, glowed. And we were going to need that kind of whimsical, blind insanity that was our love to get through the first few months of what was nothing short of a nightmare.

I failed to mention what a whirlwind of risk taking that went on in the first weeks of our relationship. It started with my apartment. It was the first "on my own" apartment I'd ever lived in and it wasn't exactly in the greatest of locales. I loved it, but I would have to admit when Chris reminded me of how much he worried about me alone in a neighborhood like that, I started to see what he meant. Our "love is blind" insanity's first rule of business: move in together.

Love is also patient, as the psalm goes, and we needed a lot of it during those few months. We were going entirely on gut and heart; what made sense rationally was a buzz kill for our punch-drunk love. Looking around me now at everything we've accomplished, we did pretty damn good. Looking back, however, gives me hives just thinking about it.

I grew up real quick in those months. In one day, I'd chosen a life that now included a child, a divorce, a mother of said child, and an overwhelming responsibility to someone I loved so dearly that all the other difficult things didn't and wouldn't matter.

We made the decision to move in together right out of the gate. It was perfect timing in our minds. Granted, our minds were clouded with all those fuzzy love feelings, but perfect timing nonetheless. We bounced from place to place as reality stepped in and evicted us from cloud nine. We were trying to build a life with each other and all the while it felt like life was fighting back. Some people say that making rash decisions without thinking "big picture" will be a mistake. I believe that. But in our case, every time we trusted our heart and went blindly into a decision, we inadvertently loved each other more for it. And when that said thing blew up in our face, well, we were immune. Keep in mind, "Love bears all things", too.

So let me catch you up. We'd moved in together (albeit place to place) and after about a year and a half, we were settled in somewhere we loved and finally began to function normally. (I know, just a year and half is all it took. Yikes.) The idea of getting married had been there since the beginning. When I said I knew he was "the one", I didn't mean "the one... boyfriend". I meant hands down THE one. THE one I would spend the rest of my life with. THE one I would brush my teeth next to each morning. THE one I would fight with about dirty dishes for the rest of our lives. THE. ONE. And luckily, he seconded that notion.

So, just like our random relationship, we decided on a random Wednesday on a random date (August 19th) to take the random opportunity that we both had the day off and... we got hitched. We didn't even tell anyone. We just told my mom. I wore red trouser pants, a white top, and the cutest short-sleeved jacket. He wore a blue top and dress pants. That was it. No tie, no dress... just... us. We decided not to tell anyone we were actually married because later down the road we wanted to have a real wedding. We thought it would just be a fun secret between us and there would be no reason for anyone to think otherwise. We'd just "be engaged" and later when money and the stars aligned, we'd have an actual wedding. We should have known then that we are always trying to skip ahead and forget that with us, life always catches up and snaps us back to reality. By the end of October, the jig was up. Planning a wedding was so not our style that we decided to stop kidding ourselves and 'fess up. We got mixed reviews at first, but in the end, everything evened out. Just like it always does with us. And you know what? That random, abnormal Wednesday was the happiest day of both of our lives.

Alfred Adler once said "The only normal people are the one's you don't know very well". Now that you've had a peek at how not-so-normal Chris and I are... maybe we aren't as different from everyone else as we think. No matter ups and downs, lefts or rights, one thing is for sure for everyone: At the end of the day, you don't just want everything to go right...

...you want to make it right with the person who is everything.

A Letter to No One

To Whom It May Concern...

From the bottom of my heart, I never meant to hurt you. My life has been a tangle of leaping before looking, falling fast and landing hard. If you were caught in the crossfire of a much too intricate web I weaved, it was never my intention to get you stuck. I've never wanted anything more but to learn and to love. Both experiences have, at many times, been harsh and necessary, lovely and brutal. Depending on where the stars were aligned on the particular day our paths crossed, any number of perceptions of me could've been made. I can only hope your memory of me is a positive one, but I'm no fool. If thinking of me sears your heart like an unexpected flash of sun, from the bottom of my soul I am sorry.

I'm no stranger to my misguided actions and divided intentions in the past. Every day I learn more about myself and every day I become a better person, sparing anymore victims of my naivety of life. I only wish I could show you who I am now, but I know it would only be a reminder that it is all to late to rearrange those stars. Instead, just know I think of you often. I have vivid dreams of you now and again that wake me up changed. Love and devotion of your memory washes over me in those moments. Where ever you are and who ever you became, your impact on me was permanent, whether heavy force or gentle touch.

Love Always & in My Mind,
Amanda


...Do you guys ever have the most vivid dreams that actually make you feel completely different the next day? Like it wasn't just random memories jumbled together into nonsense, but a real-life experience? If you have, you aren't alone. Mine happen almost all the time. My latest one was particularly unique. It was someone who is a very important part of my past that, for me, may as well not exist any more. This person isn't forgotten, but they are gone forever with no possibility of re-appearance. I never knew to acknowledge that fact or even decide on what emotion I feel about them anymore... until this dream. I woke up sad and happy all at the same time. Sad that I may be the sole reason they are gone and happy that us growing apart was probably the best thing ever to do for both of us. Not existing in someone's life anymore sometimes is the best thing for everyone. Because of this, I can never tell them how I truly feel.

I tell everyone how I feel and hate "unfinished business". A college professor once told me that writing them a letter you never send might be the best remedy. If I were to write one for everyone that I will never send it to, it would go just like that letter. No postage and returned to sender.

Baby Whoa's

Whoa. That's what I want to say to people when they ask me if I have kids. "Whoa".

Or any variation like "Easy there" or "Slow your role, partner".

There is SO much pressure to start a family after you've gotten married. It's ridiculous. I'll never forget the first time I heard it said to me. It was when Chris and I "got engaged" (we had really already been married but we didn't tell anyone until later on... I should probably post about that?)...ANYWAY! The two of us were at an anniversary party for my great aunt and uncle. I had been use to the "AGH! Let me see the ring!" and the ever popular "How did he propose?!". Then, from somewhere in the crowd, the ooh's and ahh's subsided and a random relative turned the tides. When I first heard "So when are you guys having kids?!", I'm pretty sure my brain went vacant for a moment. Kids?! Seriously?! I had just already decided to make a life long commitment to another human being and now you want me to CREATE a human being to make yet ANOTHER life long commitment to? Seriously... whoa.

I guess I've never thought to question people's motives so the idea of asking someone when or if they plan to start a family has never crossed my mind. I never grew up with this concept that life had a beat to follow. Until I got engaged, I never thought of any sort of plan that people had for how they were organizing their life. I'm coming to learn that the people who think the opposite of that, however, are the ones who ask you where YOUR kids are and whose eyes pop out of their head when you tell them you aren't planning on any. I actually had an ex question the legitimacy of my relationship with Chris because I haven't been wanting a family. See what I mean? Again, whoa.



I have to admit that the pressure isn't just coming from other people. It may stem from peer pressure, but I sometimes catch myself muddling over the reason I'm not having kids and then end up pressuring myself. Sometimes a baby will smile at me from its stroller at the mall, my heart will melt, and I swear I can feel my ovaries release an egg. And if I happen to pass by a Gymboree at that exact moment, it's game over and I start contemplating baby names. It makes me wonder if my surge of estrogen is that "maternal clock" I apparently keep hitting snooze on or if it's all just pressure to conform.

It's only when I realize that a baby's car seat would look really crappy in my bright orange two-door Tiburon that I realize it was all just pressure.

That isn't the ONLY reason, of course. (But you have to admit that's a good one.) What I hate more than the pressure is the judgement. Those "life choice questioners", no matter how many great reasons you give them, they always chalk it up to selfish. Sure, I'm not stupid, you can spin all my own reasons into "selfish" if you wanted. I don't want a pregnancy janking up my body. I like nice furniture. I like spending alone time with my husband. I like peace and quiet. I like loud parties in my home. I like the occasional lunch that goes so long it turns into dinner and then drinks and ends well into the night. And I suppose the most "selfish" reason of all is:

I DON'T WANT TO TAKE CARE OF A BABY.

Is that so wrong? I mean, sure, it looks bad when I put it all in caps like that, but does it really make me a horrible person? No, I think not. I read an article that said 68% of women are more irritated than concerned when their babies wake up crying in the middle of the night. A shocking 91% of divorced women believed that their marriages could have possibly been salvaged had they not had children to contend with. I believe that. Chris and I fight loudly a lot of the time. We're passionate and short tempered, but it works for us and we always work it out. It's hard for me not to yell when I'm mad or for Chris to not scream profanities and throw things when he's losing a video game. When Chris' son comes into town, (which is only once every two months) we play nice, of course, but it never feels normal. If we had to zip our lip ALL the time like that because of our own children, I'm convinced we'd never resolve issues. Instead, we'd silently begin to resent the other and would ultimately smother the other with a pillow.



The final thing I don't understand about all this baby pressure is the infamous motto of a "life-choice questioner". Drum roll, please...

Being a mom is the hardest job in the whole world.

...Ok! You win! I always thought cleaning up dead bodies from crime scenes would be the hardest, but I promise, I'm taking your word for it! With that said, how can someone possibly say that infamous line and in the same breath question why I'm not signing up to do it?!

Baby Enforcer: "Hi, would you like to do the HARDEST job in the world and only be paid in unconditional love?"

Me: "Well, that love part sounds good, but, hardest job in the WORLD? I'm going to pass..."

Baby Enforcer: *head explodes from confusion*


So listen everyone, I don't know when or if I'm going to have a baby. Sometimes I envision what Chris and my baby would look like, but that could just be the grown-up version of doodling his last name as mine on a trapper keeper. Sometimes I imagine baby names. Mostly though, I enjoy the silence, a midday beer, and sex in the kitchen whenever I want...

...and if that's so wrong, I don't want to be right.

Cupcakes and Muffin Tops

Well it's been a few since I posted about going on a diet and tomorrow will be the end of my 3 weeks on Atkins so here's an update:

It's going great!

I've lost 11 lbs so far and my jeans already fit better! I'm not a huge fan of numbers on the scale, so jean and dress sizes are what I really focus on. I didn't realize 11 lbs was that big of a deal until I went dress shopping for a friend's wedding this Saturday. You know how when you shop you just grab the selections in your size and there's always one thing right before you go into the dressing rooms that would be perfect but you totally don't see yourself fitting into it? Well thankfully I grabbed that one "wishful thinking" dress and it was THE one! All the other ones I grabbed in my size didn't even fit anymore! Hooray for me!

Don't get me wrong, I'm still no where near "jealous-worthy" yet. You know, that magical size you wish you were so that others will be envious of YOU for a change. I said my jeans are fitting better which means my muffin top still exists, it just isn't AS noticeable. There's still a long way to go until I fit into those size 6 jeans I haven't worn since... well, never. I bought them on accident YEARS ago and they hang sadly in the back of my closet, losing hope they'll ever be worn every time I eat a cookie. Well don't worry, size 6 pants! I'm coming for ya!

And speaking of cookies... they are ALL I think about. Well, that's a lie. I'm also thinking about brownies, peanut butter ice cream, chocolate ANYTHING, and worst of all... CUPCAKES. I'm not even a sweet-tooth kinda gal! My guilty pleasures have always been potato chips and big macs. RARELY do I want anything sweet! But this no refined white flour, sugar, and lack of anything sweet altogether diet has got me dreaming about bakeries and endless supplies of raw cookie dough. Pictures of gourmet, colorful cupcakes are my new porn. I watch Food Network and salivate... literally SALIVATE while staring at the non-stop cake baking shows... and when you realize that just hearing the word "butter cream" makes you hot, shit gets real.



All that aside, however, I haven't cheated! Not once! I even survived the aftermath of the dreaded "monthly cycle" without so much as a chocolate chip. If I can accomplish that, I know I can do anything. But these cupcakes really are killing me and I want so badly to bake them... even if I don't eat one! I wish I knew if I can withstand that kind of pressure. If you know me, you know I LOVE to cook. Baking has never been a real specialty of mine, but I have been absolutely dying to play around with all these recipes. Should I risk it, though? I could always make them and give them away to other people like my classmates and my family... right?

What do you guys think? Will trying my hand at all these gourmet cupcake recipes curve my appetite... or my hips?

In the meantime, I'll test my other options and continue my parade of cupcake website porn... but just for the articles, of course.

Beasts of Burden

Today, the dogs are driving me nuts. I've been cleaning up chewed up tennis ball pieces, bathing them after they got abnormally filthy at the dog park, and pulling socks out of sneaky sock thief mouths all day. Worst of all, Killian is acting out because Chris has been gone so long and when she's angry/disoriented/fed up, she pees. And not just sprinkles... PUDDLES. I've only just now gotten everything completely cleaned and everyone to sleep in their dog beds and away from me. All I can do now to not be so frustrated with them, is take a deep breath and look at the big picture of why their furry, no-rent paying asses are still here in the first place...

Now let's see...

In my house growing up, dogs are part of the family. They sleep with us, we take care of them, and we mourn them when they die. We even cremate them just like a real person. Nothing in the world will ever love you like a dog will... NOTHING. So, it was only natural that once Chris and I settled in to our first real place together, we'd get a dog. Thus came...




Killian.

She is the sweetest and smartest dog you'll ever meet. She "hugs" you when you are sad, cocks her head when she's confused, and has the most personality of any other dog I've ever known. She's laid back and never, ever aggressive. She adores Cole and gets as close to him on the couch as possible and watches cartoons. No really, she watches cartoons. I kid you not. No one could ever ask for a better dog.

After Killian turned a year old, I started feeling like my maternity clock was ticking. All women know what I'm talking about. It's as if one day, even though you may not be READY for a baby, a baby is ready for you. I couldn't get them off my mind! It was like being hungry but completely stuffed all at the same time. There's just no more room yet you can't stop wanting it. I started to really re-evaluate things and what our next move should be. And one day, what I needed to do finally hit me.

It was time to re-direct all those maternal instincts so that I could take care of something and feel needed. And then came...



Miles.

Miles is a little ball of energy and a HUGE Mama's boy. Exactly what I needed, right? I was never worried how Killian would take to the puppy since she has such a sweet disposition and I was 100% right. She LOVED the new puppy. So much, in fact, that I'd actually have to peel her off of him sometimes when he would try to sleep. She was a little jealous at first if he got handed a treat before she got hers or if he got let out of his crate before she did. Unfortunately, like I mentioned before, Killian pees to show her dissatisfaction in something. For all the great qualities she has, it was a long couple of weeks to try and see the good in her when we were constantly on our knees soaking up dog piss out of the rug. She has since adjusted (this week aside) to Miles and she doesn't even seem to mind anymore if he grabs his treat first before she gets hers. They play and chase each other all day. I don't know what Killian did before without him.



This week, however, she's had some sort of brain fart on exactly what she should and should not be doing. Like I said, this week has been a nightmare. Miles is teething so he's not just chewing everything, he's DESTROYING everything. He's pulled carpet fibers out of the floor and made little perfect, quarter-size holes. Tennis balls are torn into shrapnel of rubber and neon yellow fuzz and stuffed animals are exploding their innards all over the den. To top it all off, Killian for some strange reason has chose THIS week to be upset at how long Chris has been gone (its the ONLY explanation!) and has decided to reign her wrath of piss puddles everywhere.

Now, if you are thinking they may just be accidents, I assure you, they aren't. Killian is crate trained and is known to have a bladder that lasts upwards of 12 hours during long work days. She's also been potty trained since she was 10 weeks old. She has never, ever had an "accident". Of course we thought that at first when it started after we got Miles, but no, the vet said it's jealousy marking and they do it when they are mad. They get pissed off, your rug gets pissed on. And that's exactly what she's been doing. She's not trying to hide it from me either. She looks me dead in the eye, cops a squat, and runs away knowing full and damn well she's in trouble.

However, reminding myself of all the wonderful things about these beasts are actually making me feel better. I'm looking at Killian right now, curled up and looking back at me from her crate as if to say "sorry about the rug, dude, I'm just not happy at the moment" and Miles curled up fast asleep next to the guinea pig cage. No amount of pissy rugs or fuzz clogging up my vaccuum would make me forget that they are part of the family. The 2 hours it took me to clean is nothing compared to the countless hours curled up to me at night, growling quietly under her breath when she hears a disturbance. The love and security and overall compassion that these crazy mongrels have for us could never be replaced and will never be discarded. Nope, for better or worse, I'm stuck with them. My little beasts of burden.

Leavin' On a Jet Plane... Again

Chris travels for work. A lot. Like, 10-15 days out of the month. Sometimes we get lucky and have an off month, but for the most part, he's MIA around here. It isn't like we never get time together though because he works from home. In between his conference calls and vigorous emailing, we sit in our PJ's and play Halo in the middle of the afternoon so... yea, it balances out nicely. But it wasn't always that way...


We've been doing this about 3 years now and at first it was a huge adjustment. When you work a 9-5 job and you get offered a position with WAY more money AND you get to work from home, you're ecstatic. And we were. I was working as a nanny and we were just getting settled in a new place so it felt like a fun and fresh start to our new life. But all good things must come to an end... of course.

At the time we only had one car between the two of us and it was pretty worthless to me because I couldn't even drive the damn thing. It's a stick shift. Um... I get in accidents WITHOUT the added distraction of complexity. No thank you. So Chris would take the car to the airport and I'd be stranded at the house. Literally. The parents I nannied for would have to pick me up and I felt like a big ol' doofus for needing a ride. Not to mention, being stuck in the house knowing you can't go ANYWHERE is the absolute worse feeling in the world. Even worse was still adjusting to being apart and sleeping alone. So when he came home, I'd run into his arms in a tender embrace and we'd hold each other and talk about how much it sucked being apart...

...did you buy that? Good, 'cause it's Grade A bullshit. Let me tell you what really happened:

Me being the firecracker I am would take my anxiety about being stranded, my loneliness from sleeping by myself, and my disappointment at not being able to drive the stick shift and, while Chris was gone, I'd bottle it up in cute little jars. When he finally came home, I threw them right in his face like the emotional equivalent of a malakoff cocktail. Adjustment is not my strong-suit.


Now don't get me wrong, our fights weren't always about my own baggage, but his, too. It was a big job and he had a lot of new responsibilities. Our fights were just the a-typical "newly wed" fights where you are just learning to adjust to living AND loving another person. We stuck it out no matter how difficult because at the end of the day, there's nobody else in the world we'd rather be with than each other. The new job and the traveling and the adjustment was just one more obstacle. We did eventually, as all hurdles go, get over it.

I buckled down and learned how to drive a stick. (Coincidently, I'll never drive an automatic again. I'm hooked). He learned the ins and outs of traveling and what to expect and I learned how to take advantage of the time he's away to focus on myself. I'm back in school and he's loving his job more everyday. It took a while, but we made it through the hard part and now everything is just, well, life.


A friend of mine who just recently got married asked me how I handled Chris leaving so often for work because her new husband was gone for the first time and she was sad. I told her it was hard at first but that now we look forward to it because it helps us appreciate each other. I wondered why she asked since her husband works in retail and there's usually nothing to travel for in that profession. She said he was leaving for a couple days for a convention. A couple of days? I thought. Ha. Welcome to the minor leagues, girl.

An Ode to Emily's New Venture!

Do you guys remember a while ago when I blogged about being IN LOVE with people's mom blogs? Well one of my all time favorites (and the first I ever followed) is a high school classmate of mine, Emily Parker! Here's a link to her blog so you can see what I mean! http://emilyandzachparker.blogspot.com

Aside from her adorable son, Kye, I love to see pictures of her and her style. She's one of those fashion-savvy girls who can match her jewelry with her outfits and I ENVY that! Even though she always talks about saving money and working everything out on a tight budget, her style not only looks amazing to me, but expensive! I think every girl can admit that looking "expensive" is always key to looking classy and Emily pulls that off WITHOUT breaking the bank!

Well now that I'm done gushing about her, I have to tell everyone how excited I am about her new venture. She's becoming a stelladot.com consultant! If you've never been to www.stelladot.com, GO THERE NOW. (Make sure to click this link, though!: http://www.stelladot.com/emilyparker) That website and www.modcloth.com are my number one places for "window shopping" online. The jewelry is FABULOUS! And, like I said is SO great, it all looks expensive without having to be! Now that Emily has decided to become a consultant, I think my goal of achieving that classy, effortless style I've been going for will be MUCH more attainable now that I've got "someone on the inside" to help me with my jewelry needs!



Feel free to contact me or Emily directly (she's seriously the nicest person ever, don't be afraid to just go to her without knowing her!) if you have any more questions about how her new venture works. I'm sure she'd also love to answer any style questions, as well, since she's right in the heart of all the merchandise and catalogs!

Happy shopping, everyone!

Diet Hard, With a Vengeance

Well day 1 of my new lifestyle change went very well! I decided to get back on the Atkins wagon since it is the one diet that showed me the most results.

Diets have to be pretty personalized to someone's lifestyle and this one definitely meets all my needs. I LOVE to eat; especially between meals. On Atkins, you can eat all day if you want just as long as you stay under a certain alloted amount of carbohydrates. Atkins gets a lot of heat for being "unhealthy" since you are permitted to have things like butter and bacon and because, like I said, you can eat any time.



As all that is true, it's your choices that make it an unhealthy diet. For example, I had eggs and cheese for breakfast, tilapia and green beans for lunch, and a salad with mahi mahi for dinner. See? That's not so bad. Not to mention throughout the day when I wanted to "snack", I just ate some cheese and a pickle.

Another reason Atkins works so well for me when I'm trying to lose weight is the fact that I'm not allowed to eat fruit. I know, not allowed fruit on a diet?! BLASPHEMOUS. But this rule is perfect for me because I'm ALLERGIC to fruit! All the other diets I've been on contain meal plans revolved around fruit as a snack or it's a necessity for breakfast. There's no real substitute for fruit so I'd always be missing out. On Atkins, fruit has too many carbs to eat during phase 1 and 2... which is a-okay by me.



Most importantly, Atkins doesn't FEEL like a diet to me. As soon as I get set limitations, I panic. I'm not a "boundaries" type of girl. Knowing it is perfectly fine to eat any time I want makes me feel better. I'm a classic case of wanting it more when I'm not allowed. Half the time, I don't even need a snack. I just want it more because I know I can't have it on other diets. On Atkins, if I really want to snack or eat at a particular restaurant, I can. Nothing is worse than going out to eat (and we eat out a lot) and being limited to just a salad. And don't even get me started on fast food. I don't even like fast food but sometimes the situation calls for it and on other diets, I'm stuck with yet another salad (and a soggy one at that). At restaurants I can have all the steak or chicken I want with a side of veggies and at fast food restaurants, I can get that cheese burger all day as long as I take the bun off. Score!

And the number one reason Atkins works so well for me? Two words: fast. results. Don't get me wrong, I know for health reasons you are only suppose to lose 2-3 lbs a week, and you do... eventually. Once your body starts adjusting to your new lifestyle, that does become the typical pace for your weight loss. But on phase 1, which is the first 2 weeks, the most drastic changes happen to your body as you experience dramatic changes in carbohydrate consumption. Because you are only allowed 20g of carbs (an average overweight person consumes 180-230g a DAY), your body starts going into survival mode because it doesn't understand. You start to burn off what little carbs you are eating at a faster rate and when it runs out of those, it starts burning fat. Imagine carbs as little fat cell protectors. If you want to burn fat, you have to get through the carbs first. You exercise and eat right on other diets, but you are still only working off the carbs first. So, it only makes since to reduce the "protectors" so you can get right down to burning the poor, defenseless fat. And, boy, does it burn. In phase 1, really overweight people have been known to lose as much as 25 lbs in 2 weeks. Now as that isn't at all permanent unless you stick with it, it sure is the best motivation EVER to stay strong. When I started Atkins after high school, I lost 16 lbs in my first two weeks. Once I saw what results looked like (remember? VISUAL LEARNER, people!), it was much easier to remind myself to stay on track.



What kind of plans have been the most successful for you guys? Did the plan work because it matched perfectly with your lifestyle?

Happily Ever Fatter...

So you know that quit smoking ad that talks about all the deadlines you give yourself to get healthy that NEVER seem to end? "I'll quit when I get married", "I'll quit after I have my baby", "I'll quit January 1st, 2008, 2009, 2010"....? Well that crappy cycle has been happening to me for as long as I remember, but instead of cigarettes (ew), my vicious cycle is my weight.





On top of the obvious need to find motivation for healthy reasons, I also have some very odd odds stacked against me. For one, I'm happy! Don't get me wrong, I'd LOVE to be skinny because I know I'd feel sexier. But some days, when I get my hair rockin' and a cute outfit on with a bangin' pair of high heels and that cheesecake goes "Eat me, sexy!"...I totally do. I don't understand people who eat when they are depressed, but I guess it's the same as eating when you are happy because either way, the calories stay the same.

Another strangely difficult obstacle? Chris thinks I'm gorgeous. I know, I know, that should be a great thing... and it is! But on the other hand, it's easier to pass on dessert when you are on a date when you are single. You're out to impress! But when you are married and you KNOW he already thinks you look good? Well, the sex is guaranteed! Why bother when you are already perfect in his eyes?! ...at least that's what that damn cheesecake says. (My desserts are very opinionated, no?)




Well, a few weeks ago I felt good enough about myself to take some boudoir pictures as an anniversary gift for Chris. They came out fabulous! However, they were a LOT of work. I had to suck in and stick my chin out and only about 1 of every 10 shots were keepers because of all the shadowing and head tilts I needed to do to look good on camera. On top of all that, the crazy poses made me SORE the next day! (Umm... out of shape, much?!) But, yet again, Chris thought they were GREAT so my self esteem went up but unfortunately, so did the scale...

I've been playing this back and forth game in my head for TOO long now. I'm getting older and regardless of the roller coaster of feeling fat one minute and gorgeous the next, something needs to change. I'm a visual learner so I thought that maybe the reason I get discouraged and give up on diets is because I don't have a visual goal. Oh, and side note, don't google "thinspiration"... those girls are coo-coo. I want to fit into a good size dress, people, not look like the hanger it's hanging on. I asked around and according to a lot of my friends who consistently diet, they said their biggest motivation is old pictures of themselves when they were at a good size. Perfect idea! ...except for one thing. I LOOK EXACTLY THE SAME. Seriously! Don't get me wrong, I was WAY lighter, but I still was never at a weight I'd like to be now! Those pictures don't help at all. I even tried to make my own motivational pictures by sucking in and pulling my double chin up for my goal of a more defined jaw line. All that accomplished, however, is wasted hard drive space of me making stupid faces. What I needed was a professional. Someone who knew how to make actresses look fake yet fantastic! I needed... photoshop.

Well, that did it. I took one of my boudoir pictures where I was already scantily clad and turned it into what I would look like 35-40 lbs lighter (which is how much I'm suppose to lose, according to my doctor, to be in a healthy range).

OH. EM. GEE. I. LOOKED. AMAZING.

I can't get over what a difference it would be for my overall size to be that much decreased! And that's not too hard of a goal, right? 35 lbs? I'm tellin' ya, I feel it. THIS time is going to be different. I think the best way for me to achieve this is by keeping track of it. Maybe not with a calorie counting journal (been there, done that), but with my blog. If I have to constantly remind myself (and the rest of you) how everything is going, I'll feel ashamed to admit defeat too soon and motivated to lose and brag about it! Win/win!

So here's hoping I stick to it! I've got my sexy "after" picture to keep me going and you guys to 'fess up to in case I feel like giving up.

Now if I could only get that damn self-encouraging cheesecake to shut the hell up...

Yup, We're Dorks. (Part II)

Ok! Back to our nerdy anniversary vacation!

After the awesome veterans memorial, we finally got to see... THE WHITE HOUSE! It's so crazy to see something in real life that you feel like you've seen a million times. It was beautiful. The lawns were being maintained when we got there and you could really see how much work gets put into keeping it nice. Loved it.



Our next destination was our choice between the American History museum or Natural History museum. We couldn't really decide because I really wanted to see the Hope Diamond but I knew there would be much more recognizable stuff at the American History museum. We chose there.

Turned out to be a great choice! We saw the original C3P0 from Star Wars, the original Kermit the frog that Jim Henson made with his grandmother's jacket and ping pong balls, Archie Bunker's chair, Fonzi's jacket from Happy Days, and my absolute favorite... DOROTHY'S RED SLIPPERS! I have to admit, I HATE The Wizard of Oz. It's awful. But Judy Garland? LOVE HER. Just knowing she was in those shoes gave me chills. So, so worth it.





Finally, we were off to the Ford's Theater where Lincoln was shot. The tour was admittedly very boring. It was just a guy talking about everything and although the facts were interesting, he had one of those voices that just put you in a coma. But it was very surreal to be in the theater where it happened.



Oh, and side note situation: The only kids on the tour belonged to this one woman who never, ever put her new baby down the entire time. I had no idea how she did it. Her kids were well-behaved at first but as the day progressed, they were obviously due for some fussing towards the end. In the middle of the host's speech about Lincoln's assassination, her baby just started screaming at random intervals.

Now, I don't have children, but I do know the mortification you must feel when your kid acts up in public. If anything, it's that mortification that makes non-moms like me become more understanding instead of frustrated that their meal/movie/Lincoln assassination story got interrupted. This mom? Not so much. She was in the row in front of me and every time her baby squealed and interrupted the host, she made eye contact with me and gave me one of those "isn't he adorable? give me reassurance he's adorable!" grins. Um... no way, lady. You know who is adorable? Me and my husband celebrating our one year anniversary together. Your baby asleep is the only way he's going to be adorable to me. So instead of my normal understanding smile I allot to women who give me an apologetic look when their baby acts up in public, I give her a "Uh.. hell naw" smirk. I felt a little bit bad, but seriously? I'm 25 years old and I was semi-bored and tired by the end of the day, how could you not believe your 4 month old, 2 year old, and 5 year old would not feel the same if not more so?

Well, more reason for me to get excited about the tour ending and the frosty cold beer that had been waiting for me since I started the day. We had decided on this authentic looking Irish pub that caught our eye that morning and I wish I would have remembered to take pictures of it and our food and stuff but I had a one track mind and it was completely focused on the beer menu. I got some amber ale (well I got lots of amber ales) and fish and chips and Chris drank Guinness and had a beer battered burger with potato cakes... delicious! We sat outside and the weather was so beautiful. Nothing, I mean NOTHING, makes me happier than a beer and an outdoor patio bar. It was a perfect ending to our day.

The next day we packed up and headed home. Again, the ride was great and our GPS took us a different way home. We ended up driving through a different part of Virginia and ended up in the historic Madison county from the book "Bridges of Madison County". Oh. My. God. I wanted to cry it was so gorgeous. There must be a law that says you can't build shopping malls or anything modern because for the 20 minutes we were there, it was as if we had stepped into a rustic and rural dream. Chris and I could not get our jaws up. We immediately started talking about how when we retire, this is where it will be. No beaches, no cities... just this pastoral paradise.



...and it's the moments like that when you really look over at your partner and bask in the glow of your own "in love" happiness. It wasn't the destination that made our anniversary special. It was the sharing of experiences we had. It's the reassurance of how much you actually like each other's company even though you've grown to know everything there is to know about each other. It was the idea that you came up with that he feels the exact same way about that shows you that you found your real partner in life.

Here's to many more years of all of those moments and many more...

...Time Out.

I'm taking a time out from updating about my vacation.

Something happened that shook my entire world. I've never been more terrified in my life than in the moment I got the phone call.

One of my brother's is very sick. Luckily it isn't cancer or a physical handicap, but it is life-threatening nonetheless. On Monday, it almost took his life.

I'm not going to go into details because they aren't important. What's important is that he's alive and safe now. All any of us have is now.

I don't pray, but I always love when people say that they are praying for someone. It's a beautiful thing to have strangers and loved ones in your thoughts when things get rough and although I'm not praying, those who need them are in my thoughts. The faith I have is that the doctors that are working with my brother are educated and wise and willing to help him. The faith I have is that my mother raised him strong enough to fight this. The faith I have will not save him... only he can do that.

I truly believe that positive outlooks change the world. If you live everyday in sorrow and pity, that negativity floods you with pain and darkness until light seems impossible. When you see things getting better, being stronger, feeling hopeful, well, that positive energy can change your world. Your light can be anything, just as long as you hold it every second.

I can only stop my world long enough to sigh and then I must keep working and hoping for better tomorrows... just a quick time out to catch my breath.




...Time in.

Yup, We're Dorks.

Some people celebrate their anniversary with a cruise. Or a trip to the beach. Or a cabin in the mountains. Yea, well me and Chris? That ain't our bag. Chris isn't the romantic type and I can't tan. So where do two pale nerds like us go for fun and excitement to celebrate our memorable one year anniversary?




...Washington D.C, baby!

WE. HAD. A. BLAST.

On Thursday we left around 9 because the house-sitters (thanks you guys!) were coming around lunchtime to take the dogs out so we couldn't leave too early or their poor bladders wouldn't have lasted and they can't be alone too long. The ride was PERFECT. It is basically a straight shot up 85 North until it turns into 95 North and BOOM you are there. I'm an AWFUL passenger because of my control issues so normally I have to pack an arsenal of xanax for long car rides but I didn't even need a single one! We had no problems switching shifts whenever we felt like it and we laughed so much the ride felt like 2 hours instead of 11. I tried to get a picture of each state's welcome sign but I failed. I did get Virginia's, though, which I love because that state just explodes with beautiful.




We crashed pretty early when we got to the hotel in Maryland (well, not THAT early... it WAS our anniversary, after all) and woke up feeling great even though it was 6:00am. Our tour was 9 hours long and started at 8:00am so we had to get ready and walk to the train station a block from the hotel and then ride it into DC. We got a little lost when we got to Union Station and me + Chris - directions = ARGUMENT. I am hot-tempered and he's always TOO calm so we end up barking about who is handling the situation better. Well, that lasted all of 2 minutes because I saw the capital building in the distance for the first time and squealed like a school girl.




Once we finally got to the bus, everything was smooth sailing. We started at the Capital and let me tell you, it is freakin' HUGE. You see it all the time in shows and movies but you don't really realize how big it is until you are RIGHT there. So big, in fact, that the statue of liberty can entirely fit inside of it and still have 30 feet left until the top? INSANE.




Then we walked across the street to the botanical gardens. Being the tourists that we are, we had no idea that everything in Washington D.C. is paid for by tax dollars so there is no charge for ANYTHING. We asked how much it cost to walk around and the girl goes "Nothing. You've technically already paid for it with your taxes!". Sweet! Well once we got inside I started panicking because I realized there might be butterflies in there. I've never been to a garden like that before and everyone has always told me about butterfly houses...

...Oh, hold on, you didn't know? I'm TERRIFIED of butterflies. Like, if I see one coming at me, I run and flail my arms around. And yes, I know, they don't bite. That's what EVERYONE says to me, but it isn't that. It's their wings. Their freakishly colorful unnaturally flapping wings. I shutter at the sight of them. I know... I'm a freak. Moving on...

After a quick reassurance that there were no winged beasts in the greenhouses, I was good to go. It was beautiful in there! And so very interesting to see. (That picture of Chris makes him look like he's radioactive but it's good of me so whatever!)







When the bus came back to get us, we headed for the Smithsonian Air and Space museum. We had some lunch and got to see all the cool space shuttles and World War II bomber planes and such. It was really neat to see them up close. Chris loved it.







Then it was time for the Washington Monument and the newly constructed veteran's memorial. Again, gorgeous. The monument is phenomenal and the veteran's memorial makes you really appreciate what our tax dollars do to make our country beautiful. So very classy. We also saw the Lincoln Memorial but didn't have time to get close. It, too, is huge. All I kept thinking was Jenny in Forrest Gump running towards Forrest in the water and how much smaller it looks on television!





And all that was just HALF of our whole day! If you aren't too overloaded on geek-dom, I'll be filling in the rest of the day in another entry to come. And, as always, there is much more fun (and I use the word fun very loosely) things going on in my life I'll be keeping track of soon. Stick around at your own risk!