Christmas is the Crying Season

I opened my presents from my mom today. When she bought her new car this year I jokingly said I better get one heck of a good Christmas present...so when she asked me what I wanted and I said a Nintendo DSi I knew I would get one. Since her package arrived I have just been basically peeing in excitement for my new little time waster, and today could wait no longer. It is SO FUN! The trouble didn't start until I opened the second present, which I assumed would hold the games she asked me if I wanted. Now she said while on her layover on her way to Florida that not everything had arrived before she left, but that she'd send the rest when she got back home after New Year's. I don't care honestly, I lived just fine before receiving whatever it is she is sending, so to me-no biggie, waiting will be easy.

But Andrew and Nathan went to church, and since I don't have a million dollars and didn't feel in the mood to go and be judged by what I'm wearing at the church the boys are in love with, I opted out. I stuffed my face, as I often do during the holidays. Scratch that, that was a lie, I always stuff my face lately. I digress. I stuffed my face, flipped on my mellow Pandora playlist, and then decided that I'd just say screw it and open the second present too so I could expand my DSi game library. When I finished pulling off the wrapping paper there was a cardboard box with my mom's name addressed, from Best Buy. Score one. But when I opened the box inside there was a cigar box that she had glued these little rhinestones on, and inside that box were four of our Christmas ornaments and a little sand dollar that still had sand in it. So begun the crying.

Christmas is always so hard for me for so many reasons. Those ornaments stayed with us through every single marriage she had. If one thing was constant in my life, it was that damn Christmas box and all of it's glory. We even had this candle made of red wax in the moniker of a family caroling. It had this smell that just filled that entire box, and so every year when we would drag it out and put the ornaments up Christmas had a very distinct smell. Just like mentholatum reminds me of the love my mom always gave when I was sick. I still have the same jar from 1989, covered in remnants of glitter and a thousand moves. You can barely read the label anymore, but even now, after travelling through what feels like a hundred different homes, being sent away from my mom on a train, and then flying back into her arms-the first thing I reach for when I have a stuffy nose is that more than 20 year old jar of mentholatum. Yes, I know there are new ones out there. But they don't have metal caps like this one. They aren't the one my mommy used to work that cold out of my chest. They weren't held by her hands when she loved me.

This Christmas box though, it was a big deal for her and I. Like a secret we could never share, every year we would open this box and stick our heads in and just breathe in Christmas. Until about year 2 or 3 of the Reign of Robert. He decided that Christmas wasn't about presents, so we weren't going to give them anymore. That trees, decorations, anything deemed "Christmasy" other than the Bible and whatever else he chose, were no longer allowed. We didn't celebrate Christmas from that point on. I think I was 9, maybe 10 when he decided to do that. So no more ornaments, no more Christmas box. Just them going shopping every Black Friday to buy gifts to send to his son, because he lived with his mom in Arizona and was therefore exempt from the Christmas ban. The only time we would get to do anything semi-Christmas-y was at my Grandma's house, but even then he would go through my gifts and decide what I could keep.

My mom tried to put up a fight for a minute, but then let it go. You would too if your husband/the man you were going to marry had no qualms about strangling you or forcing you to do things like abandon your child.

The next time we had a Christmas again was after she left Robert, but even then she didn't want me to live with her. Our first real-wake-up-in-the-same-house-and-everything Christmas wasn't until I was 17, after I moved down with her and Frank for Christmas. He hated when we would talk about anything in the past. Anything he wasn't a part of. He was so jealous of all of her that I had that he had missed during the time between when he knew her in the military, to when they got back together. So we couldn't really enjoy the box again. I was shocked it even survived the war, but it had. The candle had melted, but she had been wise enough to put it in a plastic back so we could at least sniff that ball of wax each year. Which is so silly, I know. But geeze if it doesn't make me want to cry.

The following year I was dating Jason and Frank had decided he didn't want to put up all of those ugly old ornaments anyway. As Jason knew my heart, and knew what it would mean to me, he bought a tree and we put all of my memory ornaments on it at his house. I was so hurt over such a silly thing. Christmas ornaments.

So Christmas is the crying season. The time when I usually just feel really crappy and miss my mom the most. And she had to go and take the time to glue little rhinestones on a stupid cigar box and send me pieces of our secret.

Which just makes me cry because she's so little in her heart. She's just someone else's little girl crying because they didn't send her pieces of their private secrets, because they didn't have any. She doesn't know what to do because it was never done to her. I know she loves me, I do. If she had just been worse at it when I was very little I wouldn't even know the difference. So in the end, I am thankful that she taught me to love. I just miss that mommy so very much.

I called her and asked her if she would come visit me this year for more than a weekend, because she spends Christmas in Florida with Kenny for a month now. Expecting a fight, or worse, I called Julia and my mother-in-law asking for advice. They both asked me if it was worth it to me to have hurt feelings if she said no. Things have been good with us for a while, and I didn't want to ruin it. I have this knack for just telling her how much she's hurt me over the years every single time things start to be good between us. I just can't seem to let go of it, and she just can't seem to experience it right along with me, so I always end up trying to rub her nose in it like a dog that pooped in the living room. But I was feeling especially bold that day and called anyway.

She asked me what month works for me.

So when I say I know that she loves me, I know that she does without a shadow of a doubt. I just keep crossing my fingers that somehow we'll find a way to meet in the middle and not live thousands of miles away from each other sometime in the future. So we can bake together, and play together, and slam doors in each others faces, but then still be close enough to make up. I just miss her. I miss her the most at Christmas. So I cry.

And that's about it.

I just haven't felt like blogging lately. I'll get really excited, like I have something to say, and then I get too "something" to finish.

I have the most ridiculous headache right now. I mean monstrous. It is taking over my brain from the front to the back and I might die. So migraine would be appropriate. I want to crawl under a rock and sleep.

This term is over in 9 days! I can't believe it! It all went by so incredibly fast, and I feel like I never did any homework...which is kind of scary but good at the same time. Next term I might commit suicide, but I'm sure that just like this one, three terms in a row of biochem and upper division chemistry will breeze on by...?....

I'm so empty right now. I don't know how else to say that. Just empty. I believe in God still, but I'm not following Him. So I feel empty. I try to hop back on the path and read my Bible everyday, but it feels so inauthentic. I need to go to church, but who has time? I'm already on the verge of being fired because I'm so unavailable at work, and then to ask to have Sundays off for church-when everyone knows I haven't been acting like someone who goes to church-doesn't seem like a good idea.

So I'm empty. Fortunately for Andrew when I feel all dark and twisty I try to solve it with everything but what I need, so he's been getting a lot of crazy loving lately.

I'm empty and I'm ANGRY. I'm so ANGRY at my mother. She can spend and ENTIRE MONTH in Florida with Kenny's family, but she can't come here for more than three days because of "work"?....I hate the holidays to begin with, but she's really just compounding it. I never thought to be offended before, because you just learn to let all of these things go, but the other day it came to me: She can't seem to visit me, but she can take a month off to spend the holiday with strangers? I mean, they're not total strangers-she spent the last two Christmases with them-but hello? I know I'm not being ridiculous here. She spent Thanksgiving on her boat eating leftovers with Kenny and his kids. What the hell?

So I'm angry and empty and a lot of other negative things, but fortunately I'm too busy to generally focus on them. But I think I am going to ask her why this is all okay. To which she'll make me feel like crap for even asking, and somehow become the victim, and then I'll want to cry...Good thing it's girl's night tonight.

Also-the headache might have something to do with quitting coffee and sugar today cold turkey....I'm crossing my fingers I can stay off sugar at least until I make Julie's delish Christmas cookies in a couple weeks...oi.

October

I've been feeling so very hazy lately. Mostly to do with my very retail schedule, and all of its inconsistencies. (I'm horrible with it's, its, it is...btw)

Sometimes I feel like I never see my husband, and I miss him. Other times I know I never see my husband and I'm okay with that because I'm annoyed. But mostly-I just miss him. My schedule is basically crap until after Christmas, which just so happens to also be the time that winter term starts, and then it all begins again.

I'm almost completely done reading The Time Traveler's Wife, it is amazing. I love the language and concept of time.

I want to have the time to sit down and just knit for days, but I know it will never come. I want to join the Peace Corps today. I want a boxer puppy and an Element, but I know that if I get them they will just be things I'll have to part with when we do join the Corps, so I kind of don't want them anymore. I'm sore, all over. I started p90x two days ago and it hurts so good. I LOVE the achy sore you get after working out. I ADORE the results. I am not a big fan of the actually working out though...lol...so I'm thinking if I just do it everyday and after 15(fact) it becomes a habit, I'll just stick with it.

I don't love my nephew. When I hold him he is a stranger baby and I am very annoyed. I feel terrible because it isn't his fault I don't know him, but I just kind of don't ever really want to try. Hate me, I know that's terrible.

I LOVE JULIA SAGER-she really is my very favorite friend. I so enjoy getting to know her a little bit better every time I spend time with her, my only gripe is that she is not quiiiiiite comfortable yet to just tell me all the thoughts going through her head while I'm babbling. On that note, I will compose a list and be done:

"The Ways that Nattie Sue is Like Her Mother" or "The Ways Julia Sager is Like a 5 yr Old"

1. She is very tender hearted, and very aware of other people's feelings
2. She is EXTREMELY stubborn, and HATES it when she doesn't get her way.
3. She thinks about sparkly things, or things she would much rather be thinking about most of the time you're trying to teach her something.
   
4. When a person tries to point out what she did that was naughty, she distracts you with other things like being a unicorn or what exactly the situation is so you'll take her side.
5. She has imaginary friends who are always wonderful until she really starts to play with them, and learns that they're kind of poopy just like everyone else.
6. She loves her sister(s) more than anything else, and would willingly give up her mostest favoritest thing to benefit them.
7. She loves pastel colors.
8. She is smarter than a majority of her peers, but hasn't figured out a way quite yet to show the world her intellect.
9. She enjoys anime movies, even if Friend Heather thinks they're the nerdiest thing aside from Magic cards or WOW.
10. She really appreciates Friend Andrew and what a total Prince he is. Fortunately though, this is one area where Natti and Juli differ: Friend Andrew can only be so many people's boyfriend in one house.
    
11. She loves to work in the kitchen, even if after the initial excitement wears off it gets a bit tedious and boring.
12. She LOVES being crafty for her friends and family.
13. She laughs at most of my stupid jokes.
    
14. She cries when she's hurt.
15. She looks for affirmation when something is painful, like scratches on a playground or words. But if you tell her it's not a big deal-she won't listen. She's nobody's fool.
16. She is someone I love so very much, couldn't live without, and cannot wait to watch grow.
    

The end.

Tears, Tired, Time

I slept through my first class this morning. It also just so happened to be the only day the professor was handing something out I can't just print myself off of her website...stupid stupid stupid me and my lack of sleep.

Last night I cried in front of Andrew. He told me that my theories of being a better mother to adopted children than biological children were totally bogus. I was tired-to say the least-and got all emotional. I told him that it was so easy for my mother to give me away, so easy for my grandmother, when I looked just like them. They always figured I would be fine because the women in my family are survivors. They looked into my face that was a mirror of theirs and left me alone in the wilderness anyway because I would survive.

I'm afraid that if I have a child of my own it will be that easy for me. That regardless of my good intentions, that I'll be like them. Sending my helpless children off into the world alone because I know that they'll be alright, they're part me.

That it won't be as easy to abandon a child that has nowhere else to go. A child that I had to save in the first place. A child that needs a hero. This obviously leaves much to be worked through, which was Andrew's first statement, but it's truly how I feel. He said that it was a really big step for me to tell him that, but that we are definitely going to need to go through some counseling and work this out before we bring any children into our home at all, biological or adopted.

I find that I'm a thousand times more vulnerable, emotional, and overall expressive when I'm tired. I know I'm not alone on that island.

Lately I've just been remembering over and over what it felt like repeatedly as a child to cry out for my mother trusting that she would come hold and soothe me as she had just a few years before, only to be disappointed every time because Robert had been victorious. She either didn't hear me or didn't come. Frank was then victorious. His emotions were above mine.

I keep remembering was it was like as a 6, 7, 8,12,13,14,17,20 year old curled up in a ball with my hair matted to my face with tears waiting for her to show me that she really does love me. That all those times she abandoned me over and over again were mistakes.

But she didn't and she never will. I will always feel like a frightened six year old girl standing in the middle of an empty forest, waiting for her to come find me.

Figuring out what to do with that is the hardest part.

Fall

Things are coming around beautifully this year. As always. Well, as always during the fall in the Northwest.

I LOVE the fall. It really is my favorite time (I think). Andrew said the other day he hates it because things get all cold, wet, crappy, dark all the time, and generally just no good for the beach but too soon for the mountain.

And don't tell him or anything-but I think he's crazy.

I LOVE fall times. I love scarves, and coffee, and pumpkin spice concoctions. I love going back to school just when it feels like you'll never finish or amount to anything and spend the rest of your life blissfully happy with your husband, but in no financial situation to raise any children. I love that Christmas is just around the corner and my birthday is next week. I love rain boots and peacoats, and being reminded of how much I used to LOVE school when I was in elementary.

Speaking of children, when am I ever NOT speaking of, thinking of, working through the idea with Andrew, or declaring things about-children, I'm (kind of) going through a phase where I don't think I want them at all. When I do think of them I think of a little black boy, my little girl from China, one of our own, and then another adopted....then I start diving into the psychological and social repercussions for these children if we do go through with it all. Then I go to how I don't want to do it or desire it because it's "trendy." Then I move onto the thought that I don't want to be one of those stupid people who says this, but I will, I have wanted to do this for years. Years before Brangelina and Madonna and all of the other accessory baby owners...but I know that if we do go through with it, if I do adopt cross-ethnically, that sometimes people are going to look at me in that way.

Then I think if I really care what other people think, if they say stupid things to my kids, if all of this matters to me-then I shouldn't have kids. I'm too selfish. Andrew always says that I only feel this way because of where we are now, but really-I don't know if I'm ever going to grow out of it. I love kids. Don't get me wrong. I've held brand-new fresh babies, I've held weeks old babies, and I've held toddlers. I've worked through potty training with 16 kids at a time, and I've played with one very precocious 4(and a half) year old for quite a chunk of time.

Even with all of that, this, what is to come-I have not felt any weird maternal uterus tugs. I know even further this probably has a lot to do with my mom, not wanting to repeat her mistakes, trying to save my poor hypothetical children from all the damage I will inevitably do (even with saint Andrew to save them and help me) but then I move onto this other question:

Why are people still procreating? The world is pretty damn plentiful. This is not the same idea as "adopt first" that I'm always saying, but this is a legitimate question for mothers, or eventual mothers, or the male version even. Why? What is that little voice telling you before you board that lifetime journey? I am not hearing any voices (thank the Sweet Sweet Lord) and so I'm beginning to wonder the purpose of it all. Is it the need to leave a legacy? Is it to give another person the wonderful experience of childhood you had? Are there issues people are trying to hash out through the spawning of another human?

I'm not being a smartass even though I know this sounds crass/condescending/rude (not my intention, I'm just trying to be honest with my current ponderings) but I'm very seriously interested. Please tell me.

But aside from the thousand miles my mind is running-Fall is absolutely lovely, my husband is still the object of my adoration, and my classes are amazing. The only thing missing in my life right now is a puppy. I just have this feeling Hurley wouldn't handle it very well...

Tired tired tired...busy busy busy....I have been blog-absent as of late due to working full-time. This wouldn't normally wear me out like it does, but I'm working full-time at Best Buy/retail...which is only the most painful experience known to man. I cannot leave the house in the morning now without TWO cups of coffee (and as far as health goes-I HATE coffee...oi).

So much is going on around here, and so little time to think about it. Nathan has left for college but is home every weekend...he had the swine flu for a minute but recovered fully, along with the other 30 players on his team at Western Oregon. The sister-in-law and hubby are officially gone in Eugene. The blessing it has been is immeasurable. I know that is mean, but space will hopefully help with all the drama they cause in the family.

Went to OHSU and played around with their sonography equipment at the direction of my doctor friend in the PICU...shhh...lol. Spent many nights discussing jobs with he and his wife, in the medical field with autonomy, but not going to medical school, and have settled very comfortably on training to become a Physician's Assistant. Couldn't get in this term, but next term will start the training to become an EMT so I can leave Best Buy (hallelujah!) and start working on my 2,000 required patient contact hours to apply for the program. More on this to come I'm sure...my undergraduate is going to remain psychology as it meets all of the pre-reqs without boring me to death.

Woke up yesterday with a certainty and unshakable knowledge that little Capri Marie will no longer be the baby we planned to make. She will be adopted along with the rest of our gaggle. Someday. When we're settled.

Both working our tails off, Andrew 7 days aweek actually, to get the debt paid off so we can save for a new car. The debt will be gone by my birthday..it came out during a finances discussion, Andrew was crushed that he had to spill the beans, but that is my big "present" this year. He's still taking me on a mini-vaca somewhere up the gorge where we can sleep, sex, get massages, maybe wine-tour, and relax some more...I CAN'T WAIT!

Aside from all the busyness we have been good. Hard to not see him very much, and my days off are NEVER on his "days off"/the days he works less than 10 hours. School starts on the 21st, and as soon as it does I'm 7 days a week. My "off" days I'll be in class. But my schedule is exciting this term, so I'm not too worried.

Now I'm going to be late for work. Oi. Hope everyone is well! Sorry this was so choppy, I only had five minutes to cram it in between shower/getting ready before I leave!

I love the Office. Andrew and I have been watching an episode or two each night before we go to bed, and everyday I look forward to snuggling down with my hubby and laughing our heads off. Seriously. Season 4 episode 1 I couldn't even laugh it was so funny THE ENTIRE TIME....today I sneaked a few while at home by myself...but I CANNOT wait to share with Andrew the one where Dwight simulates a fire...O-M-G...the whole darn episode had me in tears...

Also, yoga is amazing. Aside from all the weird spiritual stuff that I pay no attention to, I am more relaxed after class and sore the next day than from anything else. It is amazing.

I figured to follow up a super-emo post this would be great.

I'm such a child. An overgrown, overstimulated, underappreciative child.

In Andrew's words, I had to break up with my "boyfriend" today. Not in a snarky tone, mind you, he has been laughing the whole way, but I did break up with my boyfriend today. He is Nathan. Well, he is the same exact person, a bit cuter, actually applying to medical school right now, fluent in spanish, an AVID...I mean AVID volunteer...he's just everything I always thought I wanted. Before I met Andrew at least.

We were both counselors at camp and hung out every day there. Since being back from camp I had seen him every single day. He introduced me to his family, I went to church with them, we all celebrated his birthday...he met my friends, I met all of his...if we were dating all things would have been a go. But the thing is-I'm married.

It's so shameful written out. So shameful where I was letting my heart be taken. So shameful that I recognized it all as a very elaborately and perfectly concocted lie from Satan to demolish the beautiful gift God gave me in Andrew, and I still almost took the bait. Almost because it is still hard to let all of that go...you know? So hard to recognize that the life I thought I would be living for so long is not the one I have....and my mom did it. She did it all the time. But at this point I want to ask her one question: How do you sleep at night?

Last night after Wyatt's birthday party/we all went to Harry Potter Andrew said to me in the car that he was going to have a talk with Wyatt. Considering that yesterday and once before were the only two times out of 10 that Andrew was with us while we were hanging out (always with other people, but still inappropriate), I was amazed that it took that long for him to say anything at all. He said he wanted to ask him what his intentions were, tell him not to hurt me and always seek my best interest first....that he didn't mind us hanging out but there would always have to be another person there.

We both drove separate cars to the birthday celebration, so we drove home alone. After our separate time to think we came back together at home and talked through it some more. I cried because I'm such an asshole, he held me and told me it's okay. I told him I've had one foot out the door and I'm still afraid that I will leave him, or that he'll leave me. He told me he's 100% sure that I'll leave him someday, and that he thought that this would be it. He said that's why he wanted to talk to Wyatt, to make sure that I was treated the right way and am always happy....yes...really....no-I'm not making this up. He told me he gave me room because of who I am, that I'm not a jerk because it's who I am. That he knows still that he married the right person and that he's not going anywhere. He snuggled me while I bawled like a baby the same way he snuggled me when I let Nathan go...it's so wierd...I cannot understand or explain the kind of love it takes to hold your wife while she mourns the loss of another man. How is that possible? How did he kiss my cheeks to wake me up this morning? How could he stand to wrap his arms around me and sink in for a few more minutes together this morning?

I am so absolutely dispicable, and somehow he loves me still. When I say that I am the luckiest most blessed girl in the world, I am not being cliche. My husband is a king among men and I really am the lucky schmuck that gets to be his wife. He is the only man who will ever be able to love me.

I need to find satisfaction in this before I throw everything away for a lie.

Do you ever just feel like you're on a roller coaster, or just plain spiraling in the wrong direction but it's just too fun and you don't want to get off?

Sometimes, I do.

I broke down and cried today...and yesterday...my body is tired, my heart is weary, my entire being is drained to the core.

Camp was hard. Seeing all of those kids and hearing all of their stories...some campers moving upwards of 10 times just in the past year ON TOP OF what they had to experience to end up in foster care to begin with...my heart hurts for them.

My mom's visit went extremely well. No fighting, a few good visits, and when I cried today (after picking up a pan straight out of the oven bare handed because my brain simply cannot function, and the fact that nobody really showed up for Papa's birthday..) she caught me while I cried. It was definitely a moment where God just held me...Andrew was attending to my burns with the two different types of burn cremes he picked up for me at the store, my mom was holding me, and Margo was stroking my hair. I didn't have a want for anyone else to be there...which hasn't really happened in a very long time...if ever...so God is faithfully attending my battered, confused, and weary heart with hugs and love.

I'm going back to bed now. I crawled into bed at 7 tonight, slept until 12, and now will go back...I need more sleep. I miss Julia...I feel like I haven't seen her in years.

I learned so much this week about God, life, loving, forgiving, acceptance, pain, courage, and the ability to move forward from both the kids and the other counselors. Maybe I'll tell you about it sometime.

As of right now-I'm trying to chase Satan away with a deep love for my husband. I met Nathan again (he shall remain nameless thus far) at camp this week. I met the real Nathan at camp. It was all very surreal...they are exactly the same, the experience the exact same. Down to the littlest details...but as always, God provided a way out-his best friend's name/co-counselor/the guy we spent ALL of our free time with is: Andrew. :) A gentle (or not so much) reminder of my amazing man of a husband who is everything my heart needs.

God loves me. He adores me. He wants the best for me. He will not let me be tempted beyond what I can bear. I will not be my mother.

For that I am faithful.

I MUST be dreaming...

Because the first year is over both for marriage and since the wedding...well, wedding anniversary is actually 7/7 but I'll be at camp next week so cannot update then.

It is still amazing. It wasn't hard. I had my days, but they generally coincided with my period, and Andrew made it out completely unscathed. We had one or two big fights, but other than that didn't have a problem laughing things off. It has been such a blessing. I could go on and on about how amazing my husband is (again) or how happy I am (again) but instead I will just say that God loves me so much He gave me Andrew.

Capri

I had the most realistic dream the other day. Julia and Andrew are the only two people I've told about it up until now, but I wanted to write it down before I forgot.

In the dream I was pregnant with a girl, my girl, my little Capri. We were so excited because it was ours and such a blessing, and planned a home birth. When the time came there was a lot of walking around the house (stark naked...lol...I watched the Ricki Lake expose on home birth, pretty sure that the setting/wardrobe for my dream came directly from the film) and sweating, and nervousness.

The entire pregnancy I was excited, and when I went into labor I was just relieved to get her out and hold her. When the moment came to push, with my midwife standing to my right, and my husband behind me for support and holding my other hand, I got so scared. She was coming, forever, my life would be irrevocably changed and no going back. I began to cry because I was so intensly afraid of all the change that was about to happen, but after pushing for a while-while standing (I'm telling you...watch the video, I WAS the hot black mama from New York..swear it) my midwife told me to reach down and I could hold her as she was coming out. So I did. I felt her head and I pushed two more times so excited and scared and ready and crying until I hear her crying and everything changed.

The only thing I could think about was making her okay, to get her to stop crying. All I could ask through my tears was what was wrong, and is she okay, and why is she crying, omigosh she's beautiful...all of it...and Andrew was crying behind me and the midwife told me everything was fine and toweled her off and sat me down so we could all get cleaned up and rest....and I just held her. And later I fed her, and she was perfect. My little baby, my little miracle, my little Capri.

When I woke up I realized why people choose to have their own children. I'm still so afraid though, so afraid because Andrew and I both have only ever had dreams of our baby being a girl. Of a little baby girl with blue eyes and blonde hair, and I'm so afraid that if we ever do get pregnant and find out it's a boy, that I will be so let down. That I'll be so sad....and I don't want to be sad because we didn't get the baby my heart always felt was coming...you know?

The dream was so real. If I hadn't witnessed Connor's birth, and watched the video, and seen Julie with Maggie I wouldn't have been able to experience the entire thing so intensly. I am very naturally empathetic. But not in a "I could see how that would be for you" but in a "I can feel it to the core of my bones how that would be" way. I used to cry onstage when doing theatre because I could feel it. When I look at pictures of the girls being raped in other countries, in the U.S. at the age of 3, 7, 13..I get so upset because I want to kill the men that did it. It has a lot to do with my "passion"...lol...the polite way that people refer to my overbearing and loud temperament...I want to fight for those who've been trampled on because I can feel the feet upon my face and arms and spirit crushing me the way they are being muffled.

It was an intense dream though. I know that I will adopt, but I know that Capri will be mine and Andrew's biologically...I guess I just wanted to say that so that people know when I'm talking tough and screaming about the injustice and all of the selfish people looking the other way and having their own-that I'll be having my own and there is no judgement. I'm just loud.

Yesterday I ended up crying under the bed.

I'm not kidding. I literally crawled under the bed and bawled like a baby. I have not been in my "crisis" zone in a long time and yesterday while talking to Margo, she took me there. There are three stages to challenge in therapy. "Comfort" "Challenge" and "Crisis."

Yesterday, after already crying while talking to her on the phone, while telling Margo the story she said she understood but she saw both sides. I asked her what she meant and she began talking about how I'm so aggressive, intimidating, etc. that in being upset that they cannot resolve this whole baby issue is me being irrational. I yelled at her and told her I'm NOT being irrational, and NOBODY-including Andrew's family-thinks that what they're doing is excusable. She told me that I'm looking for a specific reaction, and that expecting them to do what I think is right (stop using their baby as a pawn in their pettiness) is irrational because Allie needs to discuss her feelings and such......my head literally felt like it was going to explode.

On top of everything else, which as time passes I have been asking myself if it really is a big deal, my mother-in-law yesterday had a mammogram and they found a tumor. It's benign, so the concern with this one is gone, but now that her body has started the mutations I'm extremely worried. Cancer is almost a guarantee in Andrew's family, and his Aunt (my MIL's sister) has had it five times. She's had a hysterectomy, a double mastectomy after battling breast cancer twice, and skin cancer. I am not making this up, she is a walking miracle.

So Leann's tumor is not only scary, but ominous. Andrew and his younger brother Nathan and their dad handled it well, along with Leann, but it just sucks. Andrew's Great Aunt Mira fell two days ago after a stroke, and her head bled for roughly 20 minutes until 911 got there...she was unconscious when they found her and has been since, they're saying that she will die sometime this week. These two things are very difficult for Andrew, but he's been wearing the brave face for me because I'm broken. I know I need to pull it together, accept that this whole-my in laws will never be the family I don't have, and some people never have mothers who will fight for them-thing and move on.

It just hurts. And it's hard. I wish that someone in the family would just put them in their place and tell them to grow the hell up. That ANYONE would stand up and defend me because this is just ridiculous. I keep waiting for a parent figure in my life to fight for me, to not abandon me when I am hurting.

While laying under the bed yesterday after locking the door Andrew knocked only once. He knows that sometimes I just need time. Margo on the other hand took about two minutes before she realized that maybe I just needed arms to hold me and ears to listen, instead of a rebuke on behalf of poor Allie. She knocked at least five times, but each time I just got more hurt, more angry. I know that I'm abrasive, I know that I'm awkward, I understand that I'm hard to be around. I've been changing as much as I can as quickly as I can without getting lost. I try to listen more and give my opinion less. I have tried to avoid saying the elephant in the room statements. I know that I'm still hard to love but damnit if I don't just need it sometimes! I have a husband, I know, but I just need a mother. Or a nurterer that isn't my sexual partner, I need someone to love me unconditionally and pick me up off the floor. I need friends who can acknowledge my growth without constantly thinking I'm still the same person I was five years ago, eight years ago...

I'm just tired. And hurting. And pissed that I've let my stupid in-laws get to me so much. It was just my last chance for a family, you know? And my stupid selfish hasherownparents sister-in-law thought she'd take it away for fun.

I sometimes just want to say fuck them. No lie. And yesterday Margo even pulled out her trick card: How can you call yourself a woman of Christ and write Allie off?

Answer: I'm not being a bad Christian by choosing to just not subject myself to anymore. I don't have to surround myself with people who are going to make me feel like crap. I'm not a bad Christian because I don't feel like trying with them anymore. It's like with my mom, I could continue to give her the opportunity to tear me down and break me, or I can recognize she's toxic, and I can't be around her.

I was so so so so so so hurt when she pulled the Christian card on me. After I had washed up and come down she hugged me and told me that God told her that she shouldn't have said those things, that I've already been abandoned by enough people in my life, and that she's not abandoning me. After that wasn't enough and I just kind of treated her cordially she told me she didn't want to have one of those situations where things are awkward after a confrontation. I just smiled at her.

I miss my friends. I miss the days when I could call Nicko and he would answer. I miss when my friends didn't all have kids and we could get together and whisper all night about anything. I miss Melissa and everything she was to me when we were younger. I wish that Andrew and his endless attempts to make me happy were enough.

I feel like crap.

Brokenness

I've been an emotional mess for the past two days.

It all started with the Great Baby Debacle 09' on Saturday. Andrew and I found out it is just us that have been excluded from holding or touching the baby. Literally, just us. I was sitting on the couch when they walked in Saturday and Allie and Jon both stood next to me with the baby and neither offered. Since we were still under the "nobody can touch him for 3-6 weeks" assumption, of course I didn't ask. After we left Nathan told me that in the kitchen Allie offered the baby to him to hold...while I was literally just sitting on the couch and he HATES holding babies, but I have like a million friends who also have (semi) newborns...

Then we went to Auntie Bev's house and not only has she been holding the baby, but she was also invited to the hospital (from which we were banned). Yesterday when we got to Andrew's parents house they walked out the door right as we were walking in, impeccable timing eh?, so another missed chance. Last night at Thatcher's RANDOM PERSON/Andrew's friend saw them at church yesterday and...yes...touched and snuggled their child.

On top of that I had to surrender the Bible study to the boys last night because there is one guy in it that is uncomfortable with me, and I would rather that they can all go together than avoid it because of me. He's also super close with all of the boys, so last night I was very obviously excluded and laughed at a couple of times....

It was just a totally crappy weekend, and I bawled like a hysterical baby last night for a good ten minutes. I didn't even want to be with Andrew. So while I'm letting it all out in the car he came out with Hurley and told me if he couldn't be with me at least I could snuggle the cat...very sweet-I know. lol.

Next week our church is fasting for the city of Portland, for our community, for our church, and for our spiritual needs. I've been feeling something big coming lately, but I cannot see it yet. Generally when God breaks me in two like He did last night, something is coming. So I am excited for the timing He has divinely provided, and I will be on my knees seeking his face.

While crying last night I realized that more of my pain came from being so far from God, losing sight of His open arms. That if I had been in His embrace I wouldn't have gotten to that point, I would have been obediently being quiet at the right moments....

I have applied to go to India this fall. For all of the information on the program please check out www.thehomefoundation.net I've been feeling God pulling me there for a little over a year now, with the issue being presented to me two years ago at an Imago Dei informational meeting. I pray not that I get accepted, but that God's will is done. If you could join me in prayer that would be awesome!

I suppose I just need prayer period lately. For some reason I've just been feeling so broken and alone...which is such an odd thing to feel when you're married. I never thought I'd get back to here.

So many things

So much has been happening but at the same time I haven't felt anything worth updating...Allie had her baby: Jonathan Malakai Rowlett, but they want everyone to call him "Kai." I finally got to see him today-one week after he was born, and in 3-6 weeks I get to hold him.....no, he was not a NICU baby, and yes he's totally fine. They're just crazy. I'm too tired right now to rant about this, but I'm sure it kind of goes without saying.

I got a job at Best Buy part-time. It's great for my schedule and money is money. The camp on the mountain has been amazing. We're both really sad that it is ending so soon, but I've gained some awesome experience and am really grateful for the opportunity.

I got the Murena IUD put in on Thursday, so as of this coming Thursday when it becomes effective I will officially be kid free for five years. Which is so freeing. I mean so so so so so so so so so so so so freeing.

I've cut meat and alcohol out of my diet, and I'm starting to actually like myself-which is awesome. I feel better and I know soon I'll start to look better...next step: sugar...oi.

Andrew's brother Nathan graduated from high school on Friday and this weekend was a whirlwind of graduation festivities and parties to attend for he and his friends.

I feel good right now. I love my husband. I was having a moment or two of the end of the honeymoon....but I'm just so damned blessed it's back again. God really did make my dreams (and every other woman's for that matter...lol) come true. I actually just enjoy Andrew and our life and our dynamic so much that I'm sometimes afraid to bring children into the picture...I find myself thinking often about just not having any at all and just being best friends with my husband forever and never getting distracted by diapers and soccer and training bras and college...Andrew would die though. I know I'll be ready someday. Someday at least five years away from today.

Cutting alcohol out has made me realize that maybe Andrew is kind of right, and maybe I do kind of have a bit of a problem. I'm on the brink of picking up smoking because of the edge my body is sitting on right now...not really-but it's crossed my mind. Somehow I had come to the point where casually having a drink or two with friends was happening 3-5 times a week...don't ask me how but it did. So I'm off the drink for at least a month, but considering how great I've been feeling lately hopefully I'll just kick it for a while.

Anyway-our bedroom is so perfectly air-conditioned now which has made my bed with my husband not only my favorite place to be in the world, but now the source of all my daydreams...I'm going to go live the dream.

Loves.

Last night at roughly 1:39 I was struck with an overwhelming urge to take a spur of the moment trip to the beach. I begged, I pleaded, I even asked strangers for their advice...but alas-my company did not want to go.

There's this thing about marriage that is beautifully binding, and then the rest of it is binding in a pretty damn annoying way. I wanted to go to the beach with two of my guy friends, whom I trust, but that whole married thing got in the way. "It wouldn't be appropriate." Lame. Lamer-they were pretty spot on. Andrew was at home sick, and I was hanging out with our friends playing pool after Bible study, and he got a little worried I was gone. Which is cute. I get it. I know it was the right thing to do to stay home...but I REALLY wanted to go to the beach. I still do. But I can't go alone and all of my girlfriends are married, have kids, or work full-time....the only people who even have "free" time are my guy friends. So annoying.

Lame lame lamity lame. Agh. I'll survive I'm sure.

Persuasion

Women are stupid. We read silly novels and watch silly movies and get all silly about silly things. I have come to conclude that Jane Austen was one of the most amazing women in history, purely because she had the ability to create love stories so transcendent that while watching Persuasion I fell right back into the black abyss....silly silly silly me.

But Anne was right-women do hold onto things forever even if they are left without a chance. Jane was right to paint a man who never lets go of his hope-even eight and a half years later. Why did she do that?

I pray that for my daughters things will be easier. I pray that nothing gets messy in my future because I am a silly girl. I pray that eventually I quit being a silly girl and grow into a woman who can embrace her blessings.

I pray because without God none of those things will come true.

Do you ever just feel like a poo-head? Like a total idiot who is missing it all?

Lately instead of telling Andrew he's being an (expletive) I've been telling him he's being "poopy." It has been quite effective in not only making him smile and diffusing the situation instead of aggravating him, but he even stops to apologize.

I think that God just told me to stop being poopy.

I'm missing it all. I'm so thirsty and hungry and every other need word that ends in y for God, but I'm not stopping to feast. I'm not taking it in or appreciating His glory. I so so so looooooong for a girlfriend I can just sit and bask in the glory with. I say a girl because I need a heart that is tender like mine (yes, really, I have a tender heart. It's in there somewhere) and can whisper and giggle with me about His majesty. I want green grass and a blanket and two Bibles with some sunshine and lemonade. I want heaven on earth in the form of true community.

My heart is crying.

I know that God is telling me I'm being poopy, and I know I need to change, I just need a hand. I'm not angry for being held accountable, and I'm not upset that He is rebuking me, I'm smiling and wanting to just make it all better and say that I'm sorry.

I also really dislike mother's day.

GA-ROSS

I just did a health assessment for my Health class and I officially must hate my body because I'm treating it like crap. I had to write down what I ate for three days...because I have the memory of a fruit fly I did the last three days...we had a house guest, we went out with our new company, we hung out with friends...the excuses are endless.

I'm always thinking "tomorrow I won't be celebrating/visiting/taking a break/having a treat" and then I can actually eat healthy. Tomorrow keeps not coming.

Ga-ross. I won't go into details but it's bad.

Aside from that I am really really really enjoying my Human Development class and I wish I was taking more time to read the material. I hate math. A lot. Which would explain why I'm a week behind and still refuse to go to class...but I have to catch up this weekend because I have an exam on Tuesday...lame.

Very exciting (but of course no declaration...a year has yet to pass...) I have found a job that is EXACTLY what I want to do. Child Life Specialist. Google it. :)

Community

I've been really craving community lately. Travis does that to me. He comes around and I remember everything I loved about youth group, and everything that encouraged me to be so passionate about the Lord.

I'm a terrible sinner, we all know, but I would love to live in some commune with a bunch of other hippie-wannabe Christians and garden together and share life with them.

Especially because at this point we've moved in with Julia and Adam, and I quite enjoy it. It's messy, of course, because instead of living life with just Andrew and I it has become this interesting mix of a family of six...but as long as I'm not the mommy and don't have to do the cooking and cleaning I'll stick around ;) lol. But really I love them and couldn't ask for better people to share so much of my life with lately. Sometimes I feel like Adam is my older brother though, and he really wishes I would just shut up and go away. In love of course, more a noogie(?) on the head kind of annoyed though....either way-we're going with that.

But at the same time I don't want to just be with random other people. I can only stand spending so much time with them because I've known Julia forever. I am only inspired to the idea because I love Travis and all the silly memories we have. When we were discussing a couple of days ago the church I one time had a vision of that included Mike, Travis, Peter, and I on staff, it was a church run together by those that I love driven by a common vision and understanding of the people of the NW.

Which while there cannot be a finite resolution to all of these feelings and desires in one post, just like there cannot be resolution to a conflict spanning years in one night, I can just say that from all this I know one thing for certain: God has blessed my life with some of the most amazing people on the planet. I haven't met the whole planet but I tend to be right all the time so I'm right here. :)

I think that's all for now.

Like SERIOUSLY?!

So the camps that I will be volunteering at this summer are for foster children. For kids who have been beaten, raped, burned, violated, put-down to the point of worthlessness, and taught that nothing in the world could possibly be good or trusted.

So my friend Tarah got married last July at the courthouse because her husband is Austrailian and they needed to start the immigration process. THIS July, one year later, they are having their wedding.

Coming from someone who did the same thing, but in a much shorter time frame, no judgement. I will say that honestly I wish we had just run away to Jamaica and called it a day, but everyone must learn this lesson on their own.

How are these things relevant? Tarah's wedding is the day after I return from the first of my volunteer camps. So I will be here for the wedding, but evidently it's the most tragic f-ing thing that I will not be here for the bachelorette party (which I don't drink enough for her anymore anyway...I'm officically "no fun anymore"...so who gives a flying crap if I'm there anyway??!?!?) and I will be missing the rehearsal/dinner on Friday...but um...I've been in and to a few weddings-it really isn't that hard to walk down an aisle on count. Really. No lie. I'm not joking. She literally asked me if I could take the week off. She actually told me that she's "not like trying to be selfish, but" she "guesses she sorta is, and is there really NO WAY I can get it off??"

This was after I had already informed her the camp was for foster children.

I understand that the world does not see things through my eyes. I understand that my heart is called to love children that are often overlooked and misunderstood and so to expect her to jump on the bandwagon and be a counselor herself is a loooooong stretch. But to ask me to not go so I can be around for the events of her show wedding????

I had two bridesmaids who were sick last July during mine due to pregnancy, and had to leave early or miss a couple things...but...um....and no offense Julia...it didn't make one bit of difference. At all. Not to mention Ms. Tarah got so sloshed at my wedding she had to leave early with her parents because she could drive, and totally missed helping tear down at the end...which BOTH OF MY PREGGERS/SICK FRIENDS MANAGED TO DO EVEN WHILE BEING SICK.

This would not be so frustrating because let's face it-all brides are a little zilla at some point. No judgement. But let's move backwards to the point where she called and flipped out a few months ago.

"Oh my fucking gosh Heather, just GUESS what my sister is doing!?!?!?"
"Um...I have no idea Tarah, what?"
"That selfish bitch decided she just HAD to get married this year too!"
.........
".....well, I'm a little unclear as to why this is a problem."
"She just HAD to upstage me! She's ALWAYS doing this!"
.....
"Tarah..YOU were always the hot older sister...YOU were the skinny popular cheerleader...she's always been the overweight younger sister that even now is not attractive...I'm pretty sure her getting married this YEAR has absolutely nothing to do with you. I'd calm down a bit..when is her wedding?"
"November."
"Okay, well, that is four entire months after yours. I'm pretty sure you can share."
"Yeah, well...whatever, she's just being totally fucking selfish."

*apologies-Tarah is not only one of the most self-absorbed people on the planet she also cusses like a sailor. Honestly, Andrew has really reached his limit. He cannot stand to spend time with her anymore.

I digress.

But maybe I'm being the selfish and irrational one. Maybe I should just respect that her wedding is a once in a lifetime thing...(which it won't be-she's never been in a relationship with someone she didn't cheat on. Please keep in mind I've known her since 8th grade...I have a feeling she'll do my mother proud when all is said and done...)

Or maybe it's just late and I'm pissed she sent me a facebook message asking me to not go to camp with these kids.

Campity Camp Camp CAMP

So now I am going to three different camps volunteer, and have an interview today to work at one for at least part of the summer not volunteer.....If I am not all tan and sexy when this is over, I'm gonna be pissed.

I am super excited, and I've been reading every day in preparation, but I have a feeling I still won't be ready. I have two trainings this weekend for separate camps and it basically doesn't stop until August. Which is good.

School is going well, I've been playing hooky a lot though...as usual...I have the attention span of a fruit fly and sometimes my professors are just pretty darn kooky...but such is life as a student.

I feel like there's a lot more to say but I can't remember any of it. I'm gonna shower. I stink.

Quick before I lose it!

I had something really profound to say...

OH! Ok, so now that I remembered, no so profound...

I hate when you leave for what feels to you like an eternity, and you get back and nobody really sent you emails or mass attacked your online account(s). I always feel like such a loser when that happens.

Invisible Children went really well, and I ran into this girl Nikki from high school. She was the girl that stunk really bad you know? Who's parents never taught her how to take care of herself and wore the same clothes everyday. Nobody would talk to her or sit by her, but I would ask her to be in my group sometimes for class work, or how her weekend was. She never knew how to respond because nobody ever spoke to her. It was really sad. I'm not a saint, that's not the point, I just was a loser pretty regularly too and understood. But she was there, by herself, and I walked up to her and she spent time with Travis, Andrew, and I all night. She left when we went to bed, and is in town for a week visiting from Chicago where she's getting married, but I thought it was a happy coincidence.

Last: I think giving plasma may be killing me slowly. My "injection/suck" site has been achy for the past few days....maybe I have hep C.

On the upside

The sister-in-law and I are becoming BFF. Long story and due to Adam's comments on the length of my blogs I'll spare you all the details. But we are like two steps away from pillow fights in our underwear here.

Tonight is Invisible Children at Pioneer Courthouse Square. I just sent a text to like a thousand million and people and only one is coming. Which means...I did a really horrible job of telling my friends about it.

We've been spending sooooo-o-o-o much time with a couple of friends of ours lately. Because Andrew is a twin and I'm an attention whore we do have to take a step back every now and then. We very regularly wear out our welcome, so are trying to learn healthy boundaries...but it's near impossible. Baby steps.

School is going but I think my painting instructor hates me. My piece will not be in the show and all of my work needs work.

In-laws are back though, gotta go!

Oi.

I'm getting fat. Like really fat. I looked at my backside today in the mirror and wondered where it all came from...then remembered the pizza, cake(s), candy, chocolate, tacos, tator tots, whipped cream, chai tea frapp, cheeeeeeese, pasta, basically everything I've consumed this winter. It's gaross. I feel dirty. My body needs a cleaning.

I also was facebook browsing, this one isn't stalking because we are fb friends after all, and came across a girl I went to college with in Oklahoma. When I first met her I thought we'd be friends forever, but unfortunately was not optimistic or healed enough to actually maintain a relationship with her. I was so absorbed in my dark twistiness I couldn't be friends with her. She was beautiful, encouraging, laughed at everything, and had an amazing relationship with the Lord. I envied her. Which of course, since I'm a girl, manifested into a deep and solid resentment. My friend Missy and I called her and her friends the "Hil-fayes," which if you've ever seen Saved you'll understand. They would get together everyday and just read the Bible together FOR HOURS...it was sickening because my heart longed for that kind of friendship so badly. I made all kinds of horrible decisions while at school there, and completely missed the opportunity I had to build some amazing friendships.

She is still in Oklahoma and she is still beautiful. She goes on missions trips and has dated the same amazing guy from my youth group in Vancouver for-ev-er. She is tan in the summer, beautiful in the winter, and doesn't dye her hair. Her smile is just damn perfect and as I was looking at her pictures today I just ENVIED her joy. Envy is no bueno, but I did realize something: I am the only one holding me back from having that relationship with God, from feeding myself garbage, from refusing to invest in people and build those relationships with other women. I am still the same Debbie Downer I was then, I just have a sense of humor now. Which is not where I want to be.

I'm not going to make statements or plans, I just am going to try. Everytime I make statements and plans, they fail. Everytime I try to diet-I binge. I just want to be better. Not in a status way, but a I feel the sunshine on my toes even when it's snowing kind of way.

Today is Good Friday. I haven't been to church in seriously about two and a half months. Since we were either down to one car or I was just too darn lazy for the past few months, I just wasn't going on Sunday nights with Andrew and his brother. I didn't want to. I have been allowing myself to sit at home and fester and gain weight and hate myself and resent those who point out what I'm doing. So tonight we're going to church. Sunday we're going to church. Today I'm forcing Andrew to take me to Glendovere and we're at least walking until I cannot walk anymore...which sadly-I'm so out of shape right now even WALKING will do me good...gross...I am going to pursue fellowship and a healthier life.

But not making any plans...

On another note, my husband got laid off last weekend. Monday was his last day. So I need a job. And randomly Andrew told me two nights ago he's ready to foster. Which was quite shocking. We discussed it and have decided that we obviously cannot now because neither of us has a job, but that we will as soon as we have the opportunity to take care of ourselves and have health insurance. Now is just not the right time, but our hearts are ready. I thought we would need to wait at least another year before Andrew would be totally ready, but he said he is now. So that's amazing.

I married the right man.

Invisible Children

Will be leading an event this year on April 25th. I've already signed up, and Andrew cannot come, so if anyone wants to trek/camp the night with me (probably from Julie's place...because walking all the way from Happy Valley would deliver me in Pioneer Courthouse Square roughly two days later...) I'd love it! Kids are allowed, so if you have a youngster old enough to come then it would be a great way to show them what people can do to make a change.

For more information about the cause and the event go to: www.invisiblechildren.com

My mother sent me a facebook message to tell me that "some people have been saying they have not recieved their thank you cards. Please send them. Love, Mom." today. I can't seem to figure out why this infuriates me so, but it does. I have two left, one each for my great aunts, and since it's been forever Andrew and I will be hand delivering them. She would know that if she wasn't such a whore.

Me feels betters....

Also I'm a huge baby. These braces spacers are kicking my butt. I didn't use even half the pain killers for my broken foot, so I've put a couple to good use for my teeth pain...seriously...I'm such a cry baby. It REALLY hurts though! No judgement.

Excited for psych, painting, and even math so far...still have health and chem to start, but looking good so far. Homework load will be acceptable, and I'm really thinking that 19 credits isn't even enough...oh well. We'll see how I do.

Sometimes to Torture Myself...

I go to the waiting children bios for Oregon and Washington. The children in Foster Care waiting for adoptive parents. They have pictures, first name only, and state...so for all you overprotective weirdos, it's not like I could go kidnap any of them..

Anyway, every-single-time-I-look I find at least five kids that would be perfect in our spare rooms. Today I even found a teenager that would seriously fall right in like sugar in tea. But we're not ready, definitely don't have the distance for a teenager especially, it just hurts. It hurts because I know that I am capable of loving them, it hurts because nobody else is. It hurts because I know hundreds of people, and I also know I'm the only one of all the people I know that cruises the kids who need homes just in case one of them is perfect enough for us that Andrew would consider it...

No, it's not like a pet shop. No, I'm not a saint. Yes, I would want a child to be happy with us, so making sure they were the right fit is essential. And yes, I wish that everyone I knew had hearts to unconditionally love other people's children, but they don't. So I can't expect my friends and family to think about adoption first. I can't get angry at them for not. But truth-I do. I am angry and I do expect it, and sometimes I want to slap them all...ESPECIALLY the ones who are in the place financially and socially to do it...oi.

I just hurt for them. The anger is unnecessary, but I am a true to it every time-get angry when you're hurting-girl, so it's more about the hurting.

On our trip Andrew and I officially decided that we will begin the process to become foster parents as soon as I begin my classes at PSU. Which means either this fall or this winter. This puts Andrew in the position to either be graduating or about to graduate when we would get our first child, and I would have a more steady class schedule/more time for a child. The classes I'd be taking at PSU would be more upper division courses, so I would be at school during the day as opposed to now when I have the flexibility to take them at night. That also gives us roughly another year and half alone before we open our hearts to another member of our family. And each and every single child we get will be another member of our family. We've discussed the details and have decided to start we will only be fostering one child at a time so as to give them all of our attention (which at this point their hearts so desperately need, especially when just fostering them...you never know how long or short their stay will be with you), and will only be fostering children age7 and younger. This has to do with the fact that since neither of us has ever been parents, working with children I have more experience with would be better, and because with older children we're so young there isn't enough distance age-wise for it to be a good decision.

Which I'm more excited about than the trip to Barcelona. So if you end up having a crib or toddler bed or whatever that you don't need anymore...we'd love to take it off your hands when we start renovating the spare room! :) We'd also love to store it for you in our basement if you don't want to wait until then. I know that this is what God has called my heart to, and that is why despite the fact that it will be the most challenging attempt of our lives, I am excited.

I feel like there is so much to say, but nothing all at once.

For our one year anniversary Andrew told me to leave the house for at least four hours. I ran to pick up our cake at the bakery, went and snuggled the moose, got my nails done, hung out with the Crumbakers...waited some more...and then came home to 4,000 post-its covering the walls of our bedrooms with little notes scattered on every 10th one. The first year the traditional gift is paper...so it loved me with notes. It was perfect. I'm a grand gesture kind of girl, but feel guilty when loads of money are spent, so he really did the exactly perfect thing. I am a princess-truly.

Our trip was...quite honestly-painful. We were originally going to fly standby a la the tickets my amazing friend Lauren gave us, but when we arrived at the airport found out that they had overbooked the flights for PAYING customers by THREE DAYS....so we looked into driving or taking the train to Seattle and getting on there....those flights had 25 people flying standby in front of us with only six seats available. We looked at taking the train-full. We thought of taking the bus-couldn't....so instead of canceling our trip and not going to visit my grandma who never has any visitors we rented a car and drove 16 hours straight to Vegas. I can say with certainty that I despise Vegas. I really do. I had been there once before when I was 12 and I despised it then. We went because it was a cheap vacation due to the fact that my grandmother and her gambling addiction got free hotel rooms for the entire trip, and Andrew hadn't been. I tried to warn him ahead of time that Vegas isn't really that great, and it's just full of gambling, strippers, and tackiness, but we got excited just to be taking a trip anyway. Spending time with Andrew was amazing, it really was, and I so look forward to the Fall when we finally take our very first vacation where we're not spending our time off either at the beach with Papa or in Nevada with Grandma....Barcelona please don'd disappoint!...My grandmother though, really was hard to get along with. I try to rationalize how much we dislike each other. I look at my female peers and analyze the relationships they have with their mothers. I see that for all females the hardest person to take advice or help from is generally one's mother, and that all mother's feel frustrated at trying endlessly to no avail. I lived with my grandparents during the most hormonally challenging part of my upbringing, and therefore can see why I would have the same frustrations with my grandmother as others do with their mothers...but there's more to it.

She really doesn't like me. If not for Andrew I'm sure she would have very politely just asked me to go home early. Fortunately, I married a man it is impossible not to love, and therefore many are willing to overlook my countless faults. By the end of the first day I had become so disgusted by the fact that all she wanted to do was go to other casinos and...play slots. Literally. She didn't want to do anything but dump hundreds and hundreds of dollars into these games. The entire trip Andrew and I had one meal alone together, and it was only because we woke up at 11:00 one night starving so quietly snuck out of the room so as not to wake grandma, and had a late dinner by ourselves. One full week of spending time with my grandmother 20 hours out of the day.

She has a cute little house the perfect size for one, in a cute little retirement community in Bullhead City, Nevada-right across from Laughlin, Nevada a.k.a. home to 8 casinos...but it's really is the perfect place for her. It's warm, she gets to swim everyday, she has a cat, she can gamble...but the ENTIRE trip all she wanted to do was gamble and talk crap about my papa. Which is not okay. She slapped him with a divorce out of the blue last year after telling everyone in the free world he had pulled a gun on her, and he had no idea it was coming. They hadn't lived together for nearly a decade anyway, but had decided to stay together for the tax reasons. They had even gotten a legal division of property, but were going to stay married. He is now trying to be happy and has started seeing someone, but she is just hanging on to her misery for dear life. So we tried to deflect, and talk about other things. But the ENTIRE trip, and I know this may just be me being selfish, she never asked me anything about my life. She has no idea what I'm doing at school, if I'm even going to school, if I have any plans, what's going on with my friends, she wouldn't even know I'm not working if I hadn't told her...which just led to endless sideways comments about incompetent women...went so far as to(as she always does, I'm sure out of jealousy) to talk bad about Margo and how she is just a useless woman catering to her husband's needs...that now that her kids are out of the house she needs to work. I politely just said that for some people who have the opportunity to choose as Margo does, they actually prefer to stay at home. "huh..."

The last night we were there while my husband was in the bathroom, so there would be no witnesses, she brought up papa and how he was being such an asshole by not helping her with this and that. How it was so lonely down there, but she didn't have anywhere else to go becuase he wouldn't help her (which is total bs. She is better set up for retirement than he is, he just doesn't gamble 75% of his income away...) I just told her to stop, and that after having him served with divorce papers in his driveway one day without so much as a warning email, he owed her nothing. That she had always wanted out and that she finally was. She couldn't expect anything from him, and he no longer owed her anything. She was LIVID pissed. When Andrew showed back up at the table, we just got up and left. As we were walking out the door after four whole minutes of silence from her, which is a lot, I promise, she turns to me and says "You know Heather, I just want to say one thing. That day that grandpa pulled that gun on me I just knew that I had to get out bec..." "Just stop grandma! He doesn't talk shit about you so stop talking shit about him! You divorced him, it's over, finito, let it go, move on!" Instead of just letting it lie she went onto say "Weeelll you just know everything don't you missy?!"

Insert poor Andrew trying to be polite but looking at her like she just lit her hair on fire.

"No grandma, and considering it's over, I don't NEED to know everything. What would be the point? It's over."

Then my amazing prince stepped in and deflected and told her we were going to go ahead and get the car and meet her by the front door. We drove her back to her place and the whole time tried to make small talk but she kept making offhand comments about the tragedy of motherhood and how horrible she had been treated her whole life.....This morning as she dropped us off at the airport I gave her a hug and a thanks so much for letting us come visit, and she leaned over and gave Andrew a hug saying "You balance Heather out really well. Without you I wouldn't have survived this trip."

My husband has a really hard time empathizing with me and my feelings toward my family. Until he spends time with them. I recognize my grandmother is wounded, that she really is lonely, and that she just needs love. I am thankful that due to my amazing husband I can try to love her even though it hurts. I wish that there were others, like her two favorite children-my aunt Julie and uncle Jamey, who would visit her more often so that she wasn't so lonely. Or that she would just sell that house and move here and make it easier for everyone. But if wishes and buts were candies and nuts we'd all have a really great Christmas.

Bottom line, I love my husband. My family is dark and twisty and I've told Andrew to watch the Ya Ya Sisterhood movie to try to get a grasp on why we all are who we are...lol...no, but seriously, that really is my family....and I love my Savior. Even though each person in my life that has played the "mother" role has seriously fallen short by the standards ascribed to by not only all of my past therapists, but also anyone who has every heard the entire story, God gave me three women to love me. Without my mother I wouldn't have been nurtured as a small child which ultimately was the base for my entire personality. Without my grandmother I would have been stuck with my mother and Robert and his abuse and control...and honestly I can't even say I would be alive today. Without Margo I would have never learned about Christ, and His great love. I would have never seen how to authentically and unconditionally love others. So even though each of these women has hurt me in immeasurable ways, I know that God did not leave me or forsake me. He rained down mannah from heaven and I am so grateful for His blessing. He sustains me, He loves me, and He watches over me with the persistance of Edward Cullen...lol.

I am blessed.

Connor Xavier Ohman has arrived!!

Melissa and Matt Ohman's baby boy Connor Xavier arrived on 03/08/2009 at 5:58 p.m. He weighed in at 9lbs 14.4oz and is now my little Moose. Or moosey. Or Moose. Or just plain a miracle. I was fortunate enough to actually see the birth this time(thanks for trying Julia!) and it was the most amazing thing I've ever seen. I cried, and I don't cry at all. Andrew was shocked....lol. It was more touching for me to see the immediate transformation from Melissa to Mommy. I cried when she cried, I cried when they handed him to Matt's very excited hands, I cried when she sqeezed my hand and thanked me for coming...I cried because my best-friend, through all of our very sisterly ups and downs-is now a mommy.

The original plan was just to have Margo and Matt in the room with Melissa, and I totally respected that. Melissa has a hard time with a lot of attention, and is a very private person so it made sense. For the past two weeks I have been waiting on pins and needles though for that 3 AM text announcing the travel to the hospital. I've spent more time just hanging out with Matt and Mel over the past month in hopes of being there at the right moment, than I had over the past year and a half. I missed her. I love where we are now. Things are finally getting back to where we were before the big blowout 08...we share our secrets and giggle and eat cookies. I love her and I'm so thankful that things are levelling out...you know? Through every relationship, especially one that is so carefully balanced atop multiple dimensions-family, friend, sister, enemy, etc...there is growth and change. I'm loving where we're headed and Matt and I are continually growing closer, which Melissa loves. He's a very reserved guy, so it's nice when she can have a friend over he'll actually chat with.

Which is how I came to be in the room for the miracle...I had spent the night at the Crumbaker's in their guest room as Mel had started having contractions the day before. They were not intense enough to necessitate a check-in at the hospital, but the show had begun. So stupidly, I was the only one who stayed up until 3:00 waiting for the call...and finally dozed when Matt called from the hospital at 5:30 to say she was in labor. Mike, Margo, and I all quickly showered an rushed over and settled in for the long haul. After Mike could see that things were actually not going to happen soon, and that his presence just made Melissa feel like she had to cover her goodies with the gown every time she moved, he politely exited and went home to spend time with Melika's brother Jeff. All day we waited, and I rubbed her feet (something I learned from Rae Ann...thanks Rae!). It got to the point that she told me I was required to rub them through her contractions to help. I made all my very stupid/corny jokes and made Matt laugh while Melissa was a stinking soldier and cranked those contractions out like a freaking Marine. By lunch time, when Margo and I left for an hour or so to give the parents some alone time, Matt asked Melissa if I could please stay...lol. So they asked me to stay, and I got to witness/photograph the blessed event. I know that just somehow turned Mel's birth into a story about me, and that was not my intention. I was just shocked and shaken she let me stay. I mean-I'm her only "naked" friend...you know, the ones you get naky with and don't feel wierd, but even with that being true I was still surprised...I am so thankful I got to be there for it, and I am so amazed at what a strong woman she is. It was incredible.

It is time I think

I have known him since I was 16, and I think it is finally time to stop talking to him. It will never go away, and will not get easier, but the fact that it is the way it is only hinders my promise and relationship with my husband. Nothing has or would happen, but even the talking is no bueno. Andrew knows that we talk, and I have not hidden anything from him, but I need to just let it go. Sometimes talking with him makes me kind of bitter. Bitter that Andrew will never be able to appreciate the same things as I, that when we do go to Europe I'll have to explain everything to him the whole time. That he's not like me in the fact that he's very planned. Then, as "Every Woman's Battle" says will happen...I begin to realize this bitterness comes from the fact that he would be able to appreciate it all, that he is very planned, that I will always have feelings for him.

Then after thinking all of this through OF COURSE I come to the realization I just need to stop all contact with him. I made a decision and committed to it. I told him I couldn't wait around for him and I wouldn't. That after five years of both of us doing what we wanted but planning on ending up together that the whole thing was ridiculous and pointless, all that hurting of other people on the way. Three weeks later I met Andrew. And I chose Andrew. He was upset and quit talking to me for a while, but who's fault is that? We started talking again about six months ago or so, very casually, but I just don't think it's right. He has entered into(another) relationship, and since us he has never been present like he was with me until now. Which is healthy and necessary and I'm glad that we're both moving away from that idea we held so tightly for so long. I can say honestly though-that I definitely held it tighter than he did...until I didn't. I sent him a copy of the first 46 pages, so it's not like I would be walking away with anything unsaid. It is all there, and I am here, and this is the path my life has taken.

I love my husband. He is amazing. I will never be my mother. I made my choice, and it was a good one. Now I just need to finalize it all. I think that will be my secret one year anniversary gift to Andrew.

I have (I have) you breathing down my neck (breathing down my neck)
I don't (don't know) what you could possibly expect under this condition so
I'll wait (I'll wait) for the ambulance to come (ambulance to come)
Pick us up off the floor
What did you possibly expect under this condition so

Slow down.. this night's a perfect shade of
Dark blue (dark blue)
Have you ever been alone in a crowded room when I'm here with you
I said the world could be burning (burning) down
Dark blue (dark blue)
Have you ever been alone in a crowded room well I'm here with you
I said the world could be burning 'til there's nothing but dark blue..
Just dark blue

This flood (this flood) is slowly rising up swallowing the ground
Beneath my feet, Tell me how anybody thinks under this condition so
I'll swim (I'll swim) as the water rises up, the sun is sinking down
And now all I can see are the planets in a row
Suggesting it's best that I slow down

This night's a perfect shade of
Dark blue (dark blue)
Have you ever been alone in a crowded room when I'm here with you
I said the world could be burning (burning) down
Dark blue (dark blue)
Have you ever been alone in a crowded room well I'm here with you
I said the world could be burning dark blue

We were boxing
We were boxing the stars
We were boxing (we were boxing)
You were swinging for Mars
And then the water reached the West Coast
And took the power lines (the power lines)
And it was me and you (this could last forever)
And the whole town under water
There was nothing we could do
It was dark blue

Dark blue (dark blue)
Have you ever been alone in a crowded room well I'm here with you
I said the world could be burning (burning) down
Dark blue
Have you ever been alone in a crowded room well I'm here with you
I said the world could be burning now there's nothing but dark blue

If you've ever been alone in the dark blue
If you've ever been alone you'll know (you'll know)

Michael Copon Should be Jacob

I repeat: Michael Copon should now and forever be cast as the older/hotter Jacob Black.

I was at Julie's about a week or so ago and got to catch up on some braincandy reading about Twilight, and there was an article about casting someone new for the new and improved Jacob. There was this suuuuuuper hot guy as an option, and when I looked up close I recognized him. He was the model in the Pac Sun ad I used to have plastered to the other side of my binder in high school. The opposing side had pictures of my boyfriend, whom Andrew said looks EXACTLY like Mike C. (we're that close now, don't worry. He likes it when I call him Mike).

With that said-he is hot and I feel it's time for a good ol' fashioned Hollywood crush.

Found mine! Now they just need to hire him...

Operation Official Stalker Planning has begun.

Just in case you are not aware and you live in the Portland Metro Area...They begin filming the second Twilight film/book "New Moon" in March.

Which means this: thousands and thousands of screaming teens will be stalking Robert Pattinson in all his hotness. This also means it will be incredibly easy to find him, and as we are all over 21 a lot easier to follow him into bars, get him inebriated, and make out like crazy.

Sadly-we are all married. BUT-I need a new BFF anyway. Not really, but hello, not gonna pass up the chance to be Rob's (cause we're close now) new best friend. Kristin Stewart may be a good angle to get in with the R-O-B...so we'll see.

;)

P.S. I have no idea if they're even filming the second one in Portland. Beginning research NOW.

************
Stupid. Filming the new one in Vancouver, B.C. mostly. Portland is not even on the darn list. Rome, L.A., and Vancouver, B.C.

We could always drive.

GOOD NEWS!

I'm NOT pregnant!!!! After a week of being seriously concerned, and a pregnancy test I tried to take four days ago but didn't get enough of a "sample"....argh...I took another this morning and am officially NOT with child.

Which is what we wanted. We want to get some travel in before babies take over. I'm signing up for 19 credits this coming term, and it would be a little tricky if my body was raging with hormones...Also, and this would be the ultimate bummer...I would have been 8 months preggo for our planned trip of Barcelona...which would have resulted in no trip. Bottom line: we're excited for babies someday Rae Ann so quit pestering me!

The not so good news associated with this-something is wrong with me. Since I'm not pregnant I think I'm going to have Liz's mom check me for diabetes. I've been severely lightheaded and dizzy lately, have begun to get migraines(lame), and am a MONSTER when my blood sugar gets low/I haven't eaten. I thought it was just Isagenix, but I've been back to three meals for like a week now...same problems I've been having since the fall, but I keep going to my OB/GYN instead of a primary care physician. Will have to rectify.

I always feel like a grandma when I talk about my health issues, so I try to avoid it in person as much as possible. But it's my blog, I feel it's a titch more appropriate.

Guilty Pleasure

So this band of three white boys rapping started a few years ago. I was introduced to them by an old friend from Texas' myspace back when I still had myspace...and have been dancing(secretly...until now that is..) to this song in my underwear around the house ever since. Andrew laughs at it and recognizes that since they're "white bois" he cannot use his normal phrase "you're so black."

This song is their poppiest song, but I LOVE IT!!!! If you have small children they do say the word "ho" in the chorus, so unless you want to explain what a ho is....

SHUSH GIRL-SHUT YOUR LIPS-DO THE HELEN KELLER AND TALK WITH YOUR HIPS

Le Sigh

Date night number two was a huge success. I really do love Andrew and we really can have fun anywhere. We went to the Portland Art Museum and laughed at all the ugly things and appreciated the ones that were not.

I know I know-art is relative...blah blah blah. I took art history, I get it. I was however, EXTREMELY excited to see Monet and Degas and Picasso and almost all the other greats right here in my home city. Houston only has like one Van Gogh and it's the size of the Mona Lisa...very disappointing. The most shocking part of the evening...as I saw the huge Monet from the other side of the room and immediately recognized his work I walked as close as I could to see the brush strokes. When Andrew stepped next to me he said "I don't like it." I said "that's your right. But regardless of how you feel-it's Monet." "Who's that?"

Yes. Really. hahahahahaha-I married him because he's the man I need, not because he's the gay friend I want.

Then we had chinese food in Chinatown, which is the smallest Chinatown ever, and being completely taken over by the Pearl...but we had loads of fun and then consumed one of those 1.00 bags of fortune cookies and took bets on whether or not the car got broken into. Which it didn't. THEN we went home and watched "Rachael Getting Married" or whatever it is called-great film overall. Very real, but totally awesome. THEN he cuddled with me while I watched TWO HOURS of Grey's Anatomy/Private Practice crossover week 2. It ends next week...which I'm REALLY excited about...

So I love my husband. We have fun together. He really is my best friend. I know this may go away for a while, and it will take hard work to keep-but it is totally worth it.

And just so you know-last week I honestly didn't like him. I didn't like him or want to be around him and questioned why I married him in the first place. Even though he's a saint, and more than any woman could ask for-I really couldn't stand the sight of him. So I highly recommend date night. Once a week where you can go and intentionally spend time together, even if you don't leave the house...which you should. I recommend it so much that I am willing to babysit twice a month for anyone who wants to start a date night. Seriously. When I say anyone I mean Julia and her family, and Rae. I don't know who else would stumble upon this and think I would really watch their chitlens.

So I know that if I can get to the point where I cannot stand the sight of my nearly perfect in every way husband, that everyone else can totally get to the point where they hate their spouses. SO GO ON A DATE!

Loves.

Belize seems to be all I can think about

I am very tired lately I've noticed. Completely lethargic. I can sleep for 12 hours and still be tired. I'm not really sure what's going on, if I'm depressed, or just lazy...could also be the fact that I'm not eating much, but normally when I'm on Isagenix I'm more energized. I've had a random middle of my cycle period for almost a week now...totally pissed btw...but I'm trying to get excited for date night tonight. We're going to the Portland Art Museum and out to dinner. What grown-ups we are. :)

First I have to go and explain to my writing teacher that yes, I know my group is supposed to present today, but no I do not feel comfortable having to watch a movie first about a gay poet and his trials growing up Indian and gay. I am not a supporter of homosexuality, but I have many friends who are homosexual. While I will never agree with their lifestyle I love them as a people, but I'd prefer not to watch Brokeback Mountain and the like. This film is of the indie variety, so to start off it doesn't make sense. I love indie films by the way, please do not be confused. But on top of it not making sense, it is written in the format of a poem-fluid and nonsequential with emotions on high the whole time and constant statements that are made to make the viewer feel uncomfortable. This movie does make me uncomfortable, but not in the way the producer intended. It doesn't make me question my treatment of Native Americans, or my view of the poor homosexuals in all their disrest. It does make me want to get up and leave the room because it has nothing at all to do with Writing 121, and I'd prefer it if my professor wasn't raining his agenda down on me. If I had chosen to watch this in my spare time, and went with friends because we wanted to support the message that would be one thing. The fact that I'm now being forced to watch two men whisper to each other and kiss each other on the kneck is appalling. I discussed this idea and how the rebuttle may be that homosexuals are forced by society to watch heterosexual films from birth. Even this though has no foundation. If I were raised in a home or society where homosexual issues were rained down on me through every entertainment outlet available, by now I would have built up a tolerance to the situation and it wouldn't bother me.

But I wasn't. Homosexual cinema has only become mainstream in the past few years, and I personally am not drawn to it. I don't watch scary movies because I'm not excited by them, I don't watch homosexual themed films because I am not excited by them. Fortunately he's not completely retarded, and gave us the option to write about one of two films....but I do not want to watch the rest of the crappy movie, I just want to turn in my assignments and fulfill all of the other things that are necessary for my grade. I'm going to diplomatically approach the subject and see what he says...

I think I just failed a math test too, I hate math.

Bad mood, tired all the time, mystery period=crappy week.

Let it snow and rain and snow and rain

I am a huge slacker in that I love it when inclement weather relieves me from my duties.
I am also addicted to The Bachelor this season. If he doesn't pick Melissa I'm going to be PISSED!

I want to travel. Desperately. This year. Which means I just might have to get a job...which sucks.
I love holding babies. I also love giving them back when they start crying. I'm not ready to be a mom.

I have planned out my schedule for next term, and am going to register for 19 credits. The 16 I'm taking this term are not overwhelming me, so I see no reason to take the same/less. I would take more than 19, but I'm only allowed to take 20 max at PCC...only like 23 at PSU. Stupid.

I'm supposed to be revising a paper right now. But it will only take me like 30 minutes anyway and Andrew won't be here to get me until like 2:45 anyways...which means I have officially 20ish more minutes to procrastinate.

After I turn in the revised paper I'm watching a movie for the rest of class...and then half of next class too. My writing teacher ROCKS. The fact that I have to take this stupid class for the third time because my credits won't transfer=fail.

I like Rae Ann's husband. I like Rae Ann more. I would love to find out more.

I like Julia with long hair better, I don't care what Rae says.

Melissa is having her second (or third...I'm not sure..) baby shower on Saturday. Which also happens to be Valentine's Day...which will also be the only year V-day falls on a Saturday for like five years or something like that.

I tell Andrew that I think V-day is a stupid holiday created by Hallmark to fill in the gap between Christmas and Easter, but then get upset if he doesn't do something.

Our anniversary is SOON! We're almost officially one year married. But what does that really mean anyway?

I want to go to Barcelona, South America, Greece, or a Mediterranean cruise this year. I have decided against the big "all over Europe at once" trip so soon as there's no stinking way it could happen. One place-possible.

I think I'm done. I'm doing Isagenix and it makes you need to potty a lot. So I think I'm gonna go do that.

The Secret Life of Bees

If you want to watch the movie-don't read this. I'll spoil(kind of) the ending.

Sometimes movies get you, and pull you out. This one, surprisingly, did. I say surprisingly because I am white and have no idea how it feels to endure the struggles of a black woman. But I do know what it feels like to be a young girl, standing in front of your parent, wishing they could be something other than what they are and love you.

Standing in front of my mother at the train station in Tacoma was something I try not to think about. To have this fleeting moment where we both really could escape together, just the two of us, and run away forever, only to get on the train alone was beyond devastating. She didn't cry all day while helping me pack, she didn't cry while we sat across the table from each other at lunch, and she didn't cry while we waited for the train to arrive. As my mother was consciously choosing to send me away she did not cry until I sat down in my seat across from a stranger and looked at her through the window. I was 12.

She had dragged me back with her after two months away, to return to Robert and all that he was. I was with them for two weeks. Two weeks of being locked in the apartment and staying in the "guest room" as I was not good enough to have a room, sleeping on the floor because I was not even good enough to sleep on the couch in the guest room. One day he pulled me out of the guest room and sat me at the table. While he smoked cigarette after cigarette he made me read a letter. When I first looked at it I was shocked. I had no idea what to think. That was MY writing. My writing in red ink on school paper. What did it say?...I don't remember writing this?...these are not my words...it was a story I had copied for him from Chicken Soup for the Soul or something. A story written by a young woman about how she had been harsh to her step-father growing up, how he had punished her in turn, and only later did she realize that he loved her all along. I had copied it for him while on a trip to the beach with my mother and grandparents about two months before we left him. As I sat there trying to figure out what was going on he said "eat it."

..."what?"

"You heard what I said. Eat it. You wrote that to me and I carried it around in my pocket for months, showing everyone I worked with, and it was all lies. Eat your words....oh, and while you're chewing-look me in the eyes. I want you to know what you're doing."

I turned to look at my mother who was sitting three feet behind me on the couch, but she just waved at the paper with a smile on her face. So I ate it. I ate two pages of three before he told me that was good enough and to go back to my room and read. He had given me a book by Leo Buscaglia and told me to read it before I could go on with my life. That I needed to learn how to love before I could be a part of the world again, until then-the world would go on without me.

This short two week period before moving in with my grandparents has been on my mind a lot recently and I can't shake it. I haven't spoken to my mother since July, and now I think that all of the mess is starting to surface....again. Over and over and over I will go through this for the rest of my life because of the choices she made. I have spent years in therapy, and while I have forgiven her each time I have begun to hate her again, it never goes away. I can truly and deeply forgive her, but then time will pass and the hurt comes back and I have to forgive her again. And again. And again. All the while she continues to cause more damage and hurt with what she does now...

But in this movie there is a girl just like me. Confused, broken, hurting...She feels like the loss of her mother's love has made her unlovable. Then someone will cup her cheek and tell her that she is completely lovable, that she is surrounded by love. Since leaving my mother God has always sent someone to show me love. When my Papa retired and became and alcoholic again-he sent Nathan, Peter, Travis. When my grandma got tired of me, and started to spend all of the child support on gambling trips to Vegas, Reno, Laughlin-and instead blamed everything on me and called my caseworker to put me in foster care-God sent me Margo. When I moved back in with my mother and Frank because I had no where else to go after my grandma said she didn't want me, and my mother did some irreparable damage and I started throwing up everything I ate to feel in control...He sent friends to tell my mother so she could listen outside the bathroom door after dinner, and Jason to hold me after she continued to tear me down. When Jason and I finally ended our relationship after years of him lying to my face and discovering him one day with his pants around his ankles in front of the computer-He sent me Eric Murphy. When I moved back and needed to heal-again he sent me Margo and Melissa. When I was ready to be loved with no need of it-He sent me Andrew.

God has never failed me. He has always sent someone to hold me in the ways that He cannot in this life for Him. The time that Andrew took me to the top of a waterfall overlooking the gorge, on a night with a meteor shower, I knew that it was God's gift not Andrew's. That God gave me Andrew to show me how much He loves me. I know God loves me. I know He surrounds me with love. I know I know I know I know.

But-I cannot shake that feeling of never being enough. Of absolute despair that day she gave me up. The way it only got worse when she only came to one court hearing and then gave up. How much it hurt when my birthday, Christmas, Thanksgiving would pass without so much as a phone call. The day I was crying in my room and Papa just came and sat with me while I cried, when he put his arms around me and just said "you are loved." How I will never be able to put this all down in a way that is fluid and sensible enough to show them all, even my mother, that through everything I love them enough that I would die for them. I would rather die than to have my mother's life cut short before she can learn to love the Lord. I know that God had to create a heart in me like this to understand His love. For me to understand how much He loves me. To know that I have hurt Him more than my mother has ever hurt me, and He loves me the most. It's just frankly, a really shitty lesson.

I will always feel like an orphan. I think that is why I want to adopt and foster. I want to show as many children as possible that they are lovable, that they are worth it, that someone authentically and unconditionally loves them before it is too late. I have considered our life with adopted children from many different nations, most of them girls, as infants and babies. Today I had this vision of Andrew hugging our daughter from India when she comes home in high school and a boy has broken her heart. I cried because I know that she will be so lucky to have a father like Andrew, and that he will be everything a father should be. I love him all the more for it. I love God all the more for healing me through Andrew's love. Andrew's love for me, his family, our future children, and his commitment to God.

I am the luckiest girl in the world above all else.