Why do we need the rain, anyway?

Sometimes I think I was accidentally born in the wrong place. When I moved out to go to school, I lived with people from Washington for like 3 years. Before that I really loved rain, but after living with them, I REALLY loved rain.


I remember one afternoon specifically when Jamie and I decided to go on a walk in the rain (which is something we always did when it rained) and wandered around the avenues, and when we came back, instead of rushing inside to take a long hot shower, we just sat out on the lawn in the rain. It poured and we were SOAKED by the time we came inside hours later. I don’t even remember what we talked about, but we had a fantastic time talking, spilling our guts, telling our secrets, and smelling/feeling the rain.

Today kinda feels like that. Josh and I played some games this afternoon, then it started to rain. Somehow I convinced him to come on a walk with me. We wandered around our neighborhood holding hands and not caring that we were getting soaked.

OK I didn’t care that we were getting soaked, and Josh’s part of the conversation sounded like “ Are we done yet?”, “it’s cold, please can we go home now?”, “are you sure this is fun?”, “what about pneumonia (pronounces like P-NO-NIAH)?”

After a little positive encouragement from me (“oh brother you big baby!”, “YES this is fun. You like it”, “no we cannot go home. Not until you like this!”, “there’s no such thing as p-noh-niah”) he started to see how great it is. Once we got back inside and warm, that feeling of talking forever and enjoying the sound and smell of the rain kicked in.

It’s been raining for like 3 or 4 hours now (which is extraordinarily long) and I’m scared to get out of the love sac in case it stops by the time I get back to my comfy seat by the big window. Since we have our little balcony, I can open our biggest window in the living room, and let the smell and cool air in without drenching the carpet. The lightning and thunder have been beautiful, the rain stopped smelling like Utah Lake, and my air conditioner doesn’t have to be on for me to want my blanket

This is hands down my favorite season in this state. I love it.

Separation anxiety

The last time my ward was split I was roughly 14 years old and they were taking “Pebble Creek” away from us and leaving us with the “old people condos”. I was mad. I was sure that God hated me and that the Bishop hated me even worse (because everybody knows that it’s the bishop’s decision when and where to split a ward….)

I knew he was out to get me because he never gave me candy at tithing settlement, he didn’t call me to be the Mia Maids President and now he was splitting up the coolest group of kids that ever existed (me and my friends). While I had to stay in the old people ward, half of my friends were going to be in a ward full of cool, young, rich families (Ivory Homes development) while the rest of us hung out with geriatrics and the others who lived in the “slums” of Lindon. I knew that since we weren’t in the same ward anymore, we couldn’t be friends.

Now our ward is being split, and because I'm grown up and mature I realize that it’s probably not because the bishop hates me (although he doesn’t give me candy when I meet with him ……) but it doesn’t make it less stressful.

I hate not knowing what’s going to happen. I hate that my mom isn’t here to tell me who will probably be in the bishopric (she could try….she’s pretty good at that sort of thing, but I don’t think she’s ever met anyone who lives in my current ward). I hate that I don’t even know which ward I’ll be in. I hate not knowing where the boundaries are, but feeling pretty confident that boundary lines will circle our house, and we’ll be the only ones in the neighborhood who will have to go to church in Ogden or something. I just know that all the “cool kids” will be in the “other ward” and that I’m going to be released from my calling that I love and we're going to have to start all over again.

The worst part is that Josh doesn’t feel this way at all. He could care less. In fact, while I started whining and speculating about the whole thing on the way home (I really think Brother Royal will be bishop of one of the wards) he just sat there. He offered no input, he didn’t encourage me, he didn’t even discuss it with me.

Then he said “remember what you talked about last week?” (referring to my talk that was supposed to be on Faith)
“Yes. I talked about my owie shoes and how I shouldn’t wear them to work when I have to walk around a lot.”
“What else?” he prompted
“Umm….how you took forever to propose to me?” I knew what he was looking for, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of using my own words against me.
“Keep guessing.”
“About how life is only good when you know everything and all the other times it’s scary and it sucks.”
“Yes. That was it. Good lesson.”

I hate change.

I love you too!

Every time a bell rings….what do you think of?


On our first anniversary Josh and I went to St. George and we decided that instead of buying each other stuff, we’d go places on our anniversary and we’d each pick a souvenir. I realize that we won’t always be able to go places, and that things change, and that’s OK. But for now, we really like this tradition. Even if we wind up in Payson for our anniversary, we’ll still enjoy being away and getting souvenirs for each other.

Anyway, in St. George we went to this small shop between St. George and Zion National Park to get our souvenirs. I got this beautiful little hummingbird wind chime. It makes a happy sound and I love it. We couldn’t find anywhere to put it, until about a month ago when we finally hung it and it is perfect. We hung it in a kind of out of the way place, and we sortof have to bump it on purpose to make the sound. So, when I hear it, I always say “I love you too!” because it means that Josh bumped it to remind me that he loves me. And vice versa.

At work people have coat hangers mounted on their walls because everybody has to wear a suit to work, but nobody wants to wear the suit AT work. When somebody picks up their suit jacket, it sounds like the chimes...now I’m a little nervous that I’m going to tell my boss that I love him. Not because I do, but because I’m like a Pavlov dog.

Crazy plant lady

I have become crazy plant lady. Something that I really never thought I’d be, but somehow….it snuck up on me.

It all started on Easter, when I was so sad and depressed about not having any kids to hide eggs for. Josh and I decided that since Easter and spring-time are all about life, it would be appropriate to purchase a house plant and make it a member of the family. So, March 24, 2008, our first plant-baby was born. We named him Junior, because we thought it was funny. He’s thriving in our living room, and we’re very proud of every new leaf he grows. We take good care of him; making sure he has plenty of food, opening the blinds during the day just for him, and providing a nice big home (pot) for him to grow into.

For my birthday our sister Megan gave me a beautiful Lily. It was seriously GEORGEOUS. Josh potted it for me, so it could live a nice long life bringing beauty to our living room. Only it immediately started to die. I tried and tried to keep it alive, but so far I have failed. There are tiny little bulbs buried in the dirt where Junette used to be – I’ve been told that they might come back to life if I just give them space and let them grow. It’s been months and that empty pot is starting to bug me.

One day, while working for David, he planned to cut down one of his plants because it had over-grown its space. He asked if I’d like a start, and of course I said yes. We call our youngest Davey because he came from David. When you have just the top of a plant to act as a start, it takes a while to become big, beautiful and strong. So, he’s currently growing behind the desk in Josh’s massage room. He’s bright green, and we can see that he’s gaining strength. Before long he’ll be an overgrown tree that we’ll have to trim back I’m sure.

At work, they have plant day every other week, where if you’d like a plant for your desk, you can go adopt one from the nice plant people. Today was the day for me to go adopt a plant. After the nice man explained how not to kill my newly adopted plant, I headed back to my office and read the “care guide” he gave me.

The plant I chose is called a “Dumbcane” and here are some of the instructions:
Dumbcane grows best in bright light, but keep it away from direct sunlight…All parts of this plant are poisonous but only if chewed.

First I’d like to know how to make sure it’s in bright light, but away from sunlight. Does that mean that this plant was made to grow by florescent lights? Somehow, I doubt that. I don’t think when God created plants and every living thing he thought “someday, these people are going to build buildings to get away from plants and sunlight and all the beautiful things in the garden. Then they’ll want to put those plants (the ones they built buildings to get away from) in tiny pots on their desks that are only lit by florescent tubes. I’ll create a dumbcane that will use florescent light to grow, just for those dumb people.”

Second, how is a plant poisonous only if chewed? This warning reminds me a little of the “don’t lick the walls because there might be lead paint” warning from the dorms. Or “don’t use the blow dryer in the shower” or “this coffee might be hot” or “these kitchen knives are sharp”. But mostly I’m curious, what if I suck on it? Then is it poisonous? What if I suck on it and rub its guts all over my legs, then is it poisonous? What if I blend it and put it in a milkshake? How about baking it a brownie? Licking it? What if my kid eats the dirt from the pot? Is that poisonous? I guess these are all dumb questions because it is clearly labeled as “poisonous only when chewed”, but I think they might have unintentionally left out some other circumstances….

All of these thoughts are how I know I have become crazy plant lady.

It's all relative

When we moved into our current ward, nobody really noticed that we were new because "everybody is new in this ward". They had just combined with the "leftovers" from another ward to create our ward and everybody just assumed that the people they didn't know were from "the other ward". Just like at a wedding.

The bishopric knew we were new because we had to fill out our new member resumes. For everybody else though we were just leftovers. We thought we'd be "the new people" for a while, like more than a week at least, but with so much turnover and so many people who didn't know each other anyway, we really weren't new for more than the 5 minutes it took to fill out our resumes.

We settled into a comfortable lull of ward membership. We were regularly attending church, we sit in the front (because, like a child, I get distracted and stressed if I have to see all the entertaining people in front of me before the speaker), we go to our meetings, we sometimes do our visiting teaching/home teaching, we got callings, we pray in RS/Priesthood, we go to activities when we can, we're just normal every day average members of the ward.

When I was called to be in the Primary, Brother Royal told me that he's been really impressed with Josh and I because we are such active members of the ward. I laughed thinking that we were borderline inactive, but I guess in such a young ward, it's hard to find people to do things when they're so stressed out with their own families. For us it's easy to be what is apparently super-active because all we do is work. Then we come home and we're excited about upcoming activities and events because we have something to do. It's not hard to go to church because we actually hear the lessons and speakers instead of chasing kids up and down the aisles. For us, it's just really easy to be in our ward.

Two weeks ago, Josh informed me that we were asked to speak in church in the coming weeks. Frankly, I thought he thought it was funny to joke around with me like that, but he insisted he was serious (just like he does when he's joking). Last week, when Brother Litster asked if we were still on for next week, I realized that Josh really was serious.

So, today we had to speak in Sacrament Meeting. What is amazing to me is that when I wake up at 7:10 and realize I only have 20 minutes to get ready for work and get my butt out the door, it goes by like that (insert snap here).  But when I'm asked to speak about Faith and Repentance 20 minutes goes by more. l-i-k-e. t-h-i-s. (that's really slow in case you couldn't tell). When we timed our talks last night, just to see what we'd need to do, I thought I was done with my talk, but it was only 12 minutes long! Geez! That's a LOTTA talking. I was barely over halfway!

Anyway, we survived our introduction talk, and I'm glad it's over. Now we don't need to be anxious about being asked to speak anymore, because it's over. We're done, and chances are we won't have to speak again until we move, and if we do that fast enough, we probably won't even have to do that. Whew!

Anyway, I guess we weren't really that new, we weren't really inactive, and 20 mintues really is a long time. It's all relative.

I'm learning

The last time that Josh and I spoke in Sacrament Meeting was the first time I ever had to give the grown up talk in my life. I was totally intimidated, but also kindof excited.

We were lucky and had a very long winded youth speaker. She talked for 25 minutes, and we each only had 10 minutes to give our talks. As I was introducing us, I said how much I loved to hear about all of the hopelessly romantic love stories when people were introducing themselves. What I said next was a bit embarrassing. The way it sounded in my head was: I thought that grown up life was so romantic, being swept off your feet, roses and poems, just like a Disney movie. But instead I found out that you just get married and live life. It's not all roses and poems, and it is happy, but not always hopelessly romantic. What I said was: "Instead of having a hopelessly romantic story to tell. I'm just married to Josh." Everybody laughed, and I kinda laughed too, but it turns out that the guys in Elders Quorum made fun of Josh for it later. Everybody always felt bad for me because I was stuck being married to this un-romantic fellow for all eternity, which couldn't be farther from the truth! Josh is a very romantic guy, and I have some very Disney-like experiences with him, and I'm happy about that.

This time, I wrote out my talk, all of it. Even the introduction, and I'm proud to say that I didn't make fun of my husband at all! I didn't say he wasn't romantic, and I didn't say anything too stupid in my talk. And neither did Josh. I'm feeling like we both did pretty dang good, considering it's only our second try. Maybe by the time we're 900 years old, if we keep moving every 2 years, we'll be really good at this.

My un-round kitchen

Josh is like a little boy in a grown up boy's body.

I love that about him most days. Sometimes it's kindof inconvenient, like when we're in church and he can't sit still. But most times it makes me being married to him a lot of fun, like when we're having snow ball fights with the neighbor kids. I think I laugh more with him than I ever have with anybody else in my life.

This morning while Josh was making me french toast for breakfast (he's so great...) he squirted me with the sink squirter outer thing. I was shocked because it's been a long time since we had an indoor water fight. I exercised all the self control I could muster and did not squirt him back, or dump cold water on him, or put an ice cube down his back.

However, I did chase him down and cornered him in the kitchen. There he was, jumping up and down and shrieking giggling like a monkey little boy. Then he looked around and suddenly realized he was cornered. "Oh man! This one doesn't go round and round!" he moaned at the realization.

At my parents house, the kitchen is part of a loop that connects to the other living areas in the house. I'm sure when my parents were building the house, they didn't realize that the loop would become a track. A circle that we'd chase each other around and around, with the chased screaming and crying, and the chaser laughing and shouting threats. I'm sure they had no idea that my future husband would chase the grandkids around that circle for hours at a time all the while shouting "again! again!". I'm sure they didn't envision small children slipping on the kitchen floor and landing face first only to be tackled by the person chasing them and tickling them until they peed their pants or stopped breathing. I'm certain that they never thought the "home-teaching room" would become a wrestling ring; but, because they had kids, that's what happened.

At his parents house there is an island in the middle of the kitchen. It serves the same purpose, it's just a smaller scale, which is worse because when the person doing the chasing decides to pull a change of direction, you only have about 2 steps to react before you're busted.

Our kitchen doesn't have anything of the sort. Once you run in, the person chasing you pretty much wins, you're cornered. There is no track to race around in circles, just a lot of dead ends all over our house. Josh is a chaser by nature, and I think he just barely figured out this fundamental flaw in the layout of our home. I am not a chaser by nature becuase I am always the one being chased, and I ALWAYS lose and wind up being tickled until I cry. I'm sure that Josh is disappointed by this realization, but to me? it means there is no better place for us to live. Seriously. Best. House. Ever.

A talent I do not have

Drumroll please……


Drinking out of a straw.

I just remembered. While I’m good at being sick (which requires drinking out of a straw) I am not good at just plain straw drinking. Which is bad because I’m also bad at cup drinking.

When I drink out of a cup, I always get a water mustache, and if there is any ice in the cup (which there is because I love the taste of water with ice in it….even if Josh says it doesn’t actually taste different) it inevitably falls onto my face, and up my nose.

So, in order to avoid unnecessary embarrassment at work, I’ve opted for drinking out of a straw. I have an enormous (32 oz.) foam cup, with a lid and a straw. I drink probably 3 of those a day (partially because they’re mostly full of ice and partially because I drink a lot of water) so this has a real impact on my life.

Unfortunately I’m really bad at drinking from a straw too. You know when you share an office area with someone else, and you randomly hear strange noises coming from the cubicle next to you? That strange squeaky noise is probably me drinking out of a straw. .

If I don’t take painstaking precautions to be sure my lips have completely sealed around the straw, I make that squeaky noise. And when you take 23,459 sips a day, those precautions just take too much time. I’d get fired if I did. So you’ll have to deal with my squeaky drinking.

The worst though, is when I’ve taken my squeaky sip, and remove my partially sealed lips from around the straw, somehow water gleeks out. Do you remember gleeking? What an ugly fad that was….anyway, now that it’s not cool anymore and I’m not in the appropriate environment for gleaking - of course I’m really good at it. The worst part is that when I focus really hard and completely break the squeaky-lip seal before moving my mouth off the straw to avoid the gleek, I look like a camel. You know when they chew, and it just looks like they’re using entirely too much energy with their lips? That’s what I look like when I try to gleeklessly break contact with my straw.

On the plus side, I’m good at being sick…..that makes it even, right?

A talent I have

We learn in church about how everybody has different talents and all of those talents are equally valuable. I've always argued that if they're all equally valuable, then I should get to pick the ones I want. Really? They expect me to believe that the "voice of an angel" talent and "cleaning dishes" talent are equal? Do I look that stupid?

Well, today I've realized yet another overlooked talent that I have. Drumroll please......

Being sick.

Seriously, I'm really good at it. Sure I whine. Sure I get absolutely nothing productive done. Sure I am totally and completely useless. But that's the point of sick, right?

Before Josh and I got married he told me he couldn't do throw-up so it would have to be my job when we had kids. He informed me that if that was a problem, it might be a deal breaker. I told him I don't vacuum or mop. We struck a deal. I thought I'd be getting the better end of the bargain because you vacuum much more often than you puke. Until today. I think I've puked enough times to even the whole thing out. And unfortunately my sweet husband vacuums more than once a month. That means a whole lotta pukin'.

On the positive side, I have everything I could need/want when I'm sick. I'm equipped with the sicky blanket. Josh's mom made it for us when we got married, and although she didn't intend it to be a germ infested sicky blanket, it's the one we always reach for. It's warm, and bright colors, and since we're always sick it in, it always smells like laundry detergent. Wrapping up in it feels like being taken care of by your mom, even when she's not there. And that's good.

I finished that vampire book, and started in on Emma....again. I still have half a case of Ramen (classic sicky food), and a bag of popsicles. We have cable (which means What Not To Wear is always on), and an ever growing collection of Disney movies.

With all of these tools, plus a laptop and a weeks worth of blogging to do, I'd say I made a pretty good sicky. Here's hoping I perfect the art today and I don't have to practice more tomorrow.

Life after change

Something about changing any minute detail of my life stresses me out. Often it's a necessary, exciting, happy change, but it seriosly wipes me out.

When we moved, I didn't think about anything else for months, I stressed about having enough boxes, a big enough truck, enough people to move, enough lysol to clean the new house, enough rags to not spread germs, enough time to pack and unpack. Ultimately all of that paralyzed me and Josh just took care of it. And we're fine. When Josh started school, I was anxious. When he graduated from school, I was anxious. When I quit my job, I was anxious. When I lived on a cruise ship (I know it was just week, but it still counts) I was anxious. Now that I've started a new job, I'm freaked out beyond all reason. I love it, I love the people I work with, I love having a normal schedule, I love running into people I know. I REALLY love the cafeteria. I love everything about it.  The problem is that my life has not yet fallen back in line. I don't have a schedule.

Partly I blame summer because I can't plan my days of the week around what good show is on tv.  Partly I blame the fact that I only own 5 pairs of nylons and there are 5 days in the work week. (Laundry every weekend? I don't THINK so!!!) Parly I blame the "limpics" for binding me to my home all night every night. Parly I blame my husband for wanting to go camping "just one more time" this year. Mostly I guess I blame me for needing "just one more week to get in the groove of things" when in reality I just can't get into a groove of anything.

The obsessive need to write down the things I need to do is taking over my life, I have 42 lists, with none of the items crossed off. I have 1 tired husband who truly doesn't care if that guy with a weird name "sticks the landing". I have 9 days of blogging that I know I'll never get around to. I have 3 photographs that will probably take a month and a half to hang in our room. I have 14 reminders on my calendar that I've been "ignoring" for a week and a half. I have 73 miles to run if I were really going to catch up (yeah right!). And I have 3 home evening lessons starred in my inbox that I really should talk with Josh about...... but I don't wanna because I'm busy!

I cancelled Disneyland

I must be the worst wife in the world, although I hate to admit it….

Since I just started a new job, we JUST got back from vacation, and my beautiful sister-in-law is getting married at the beginning of September, I really didn’t feel great about our scheduled trip to Disneyland on the 11th of September. I really didn’t know how we’d pay for it (the gas to get there, or the cost to enter the park) and I sortof avoided talking about it with Josh. Yesterday was the last day we could cancel our reservations with Worldmark, and I did it.

Let me tell you, it wasn’t a fantastic ride home with Josh.

“I had to cancel Disneyland today.”

Silence.

Pouty face.

“Why?”

“Well, I won’t have earned enough time off by then to take the 2 days off work, and the drive out there, and the price of gas, and the price of Disneyland, and Aundrea will be gone that week too, and we just went on vacation, and I don’t want to be the new girl who is never there and always on vacation and thinks the rules don’t apply to her and….”

“That sucks” he interrupted my tirade.

“Yeah. Sorry about that.”
He pouted the rest of the way home. I feel like I took Christmas away from a 5 year old. I think he was every bit as excited for Disneyland as he was for the cruise. Sigh. Maybe next year I’ll actually have some vacation time and we can go and I won’t have to be the Wicked Witch of the West.

10 things at new job

10 Things that happened during my first week that never would have happened at my old job. 

1. I heard zero swear words. Seriously zero. Not even the little ones. And certainly not the big ones.

2. The girl I ate lunch with on my first day prayed before eating. So did I.

3. The soundtrack of my lunch hour includes “I Wonder When He Comes Again” “Heavenly Father Loves Me” “I Am a Child of God” and “I Lived in Heaven”. All of those things are true, and that’s cool.

4. I have heard the phrase “10-4” roughly 973 times. Yes, that’s right. I get to use a radio (read: walkie talkie) let the coveting begin.

5. I have had a lunch break every single day for a week. AND I ate during that break. That’s cool.

6. During training I learned that my department exists to help bring souls to Christ. You can’t argue with a mission statement like that.

7. I talk to Mormon VIPs. GAs mostly.

8. During a morning break, I wander around temple square.

9. I did NOT hear about weekend adventures and “partners” of my boss. Doesn’t sound like a big deal, but it is.

10. When my computer didn’t work, nobody mocked or made fun of the computer guys. In fact, nobody has bad-mouthed anybody else at all. Everyone actually likes each other, and they all work well together.

Working for the church

Dear Experienced Dark Curtain,

I am sure that you have nothing but the best of intentions in your comments regarding working for the church. I sincerely appreciate your words of caution and point of view. I think you bring up some very valid points, and mostly I feel like they would be very applicable for a lot of people…..but not so much me.

I love the church, and I love to work, and I desperately want to work at a place where I know that what I am doing is serving a greater purpose. I’ve really wanted to have a job that does something good. And that is what I am most excited about. I’m going to be helping the church, and that is something I truly believe in.

As for wearing a skirt…..while I’m not one of those people who is comfortable in a skirt and nylons, I think it’s a small price to pay for working with good people for good people. And I know that the church is a business, and I know that people aren’t perfect, but at least I know that they are attending the same meeting I am, they probably aren’t mocking primary, and they certainly aren’t dropping the F-bomb 25 times a day. That is a step up for me.

I’m sure that there is a certain stigma at the church about women who work there, but I will be working for a woman, and she seems fantastic. Her co-workers value her opinion, and respect her, I can tell that from my interviews. More importantly, it is not my goal to climb the corporate ladder. In fact, my goal is to have kids and be a mom. If I wanted to be the king of the world, or have a high power position, I wouldn’t be looking at the church.

As for all this talk about “the man”…..I’m not quite sure what you mean. Is this a feminist thing? Or is this hating working for someone? I happen to like “the man” who is the head of this church, and I have a lot of faith in the organization that manages his church on this earth. So, I’m thrilled to be working for that specific “man”.

So, I respectfully disagree. After a lot of thought and prayer, I have accepted the position with the church.

I get to start tomorrow, which I’m very excited about, so while I disagreed with your comments/concerns, please join with the rest of my friends and family in wishing me the best of luck in my new position with the church.

Love,

The Newest Church Employee

Here’s hopin’ it’s better than EDC thinks it is, and every bit as good as I think it is.

Jobs

So, the job hunt has been.....less than fruitful up until today....

Before we went on the cruise I applied for this job at the church that was amazing. I went to the interview and felt really good about the job, and to be honest I really got my heart set on it. It was (like so many other) the PERFECT job for me and I knew it was going to work out. We'll call this the "upstairs job" because it's upstairs at the Church Office Building.

So, when I got the "we don't want you" e-mail I was shocked, hurt, embarrassed, and kindof offended. But, that's life, and I tried really hard to do the "if this doesn't work out, something else will" attitude, but really I was just sad.

Being the non-emotional girl I am, I only cried for like an hour or two about how "nobody loves me, I'm not good at anything, not only can I not get a job, but I can't have a baby either, etc." Then I applied for another job at the church. I had an interview on Monday, and it went very well. I had a 2nd interview yesterday which also went really well, they said they hoped to make a decision by early next week and they'd let me know either way.

Today I got a call from the guy who interviewed me for the upstairs job. The ones who rejected me earlier. He asked if I had another phone number for my bishop because they were really hoping to talk with him today. So, I'm assuming they changed their minds about me for whatever reason, and I'm now being considered for the position again (or still....who knows). Unfortunately I only know his home number which means they won't hear from him until Monday at the very earliest.

Then I got a call from the Downstairs people, they'd like me to call them back as quickly as possible. Which I really think means that they are going to offer it to me. (Otherwise they would have just left me a message saying they'd chosen the other candidate.)

Here's the problem: if I turn down the Downstairs job (which is a perfectly good job, with people who seem really nice) and then the Upstairs people reject me (again) then I'll feel stupid for not jumping at the opportunity. But, if I accept the Downstairs job, and then the Upstairs people offer me a position, I'll be really sad that I didn't hold out for a better position.

And if the Upstairs people weren't really seriously considering me, why on earth would they call me back again? "Just wanted to call to remind you we didn't really like you. And we'd like to talk with your Bishop about all the reasons we didn't choose you, so do you have his phone number? They must be very seriously considering me or they wouldn't have said anything! So, I'll need to talk to the Downstairs people on Monday and say something to them.....the question is - what do I say?

As a side note, I need to point out that although this is a dilemma, it's one I'm happy to have. I just hope I make the right choice and don't wind up regretting anything. I am just thankful to have someone remotely interested in hiring me.

Another homeownership milestone

We've lived in our house for a full 7 months now, and last night, we took down our very last paper-blind. Every time we do something like that, I think of that part in The Incredibles where Elastigirl calls Mr. Incredible to tell him that they finally live there because she unpacked the last box - after 3 years of living in their house.

I'm feeling really good about the shade for our door coming, and finally taking down the last of the "temporary" paper blinds from our windows. Yay!

"Stay at home" mom

I always wondered what "stay at home" moms did all day. I knew that having kids sucked up all your time, but I truly didn't understand how. I didn't get how people would say that their days just flew by when they were at home all day. All of my stay at home experiences involved LONG days, and I had convinced myself that in just one extra day at home, I could get an entire week's worth of stuff done.

Those of you who are stay at home moms are laughing right now. I know you are. And you should be.

Since I quit my job, I've had a "stay at home" week, and I don't think I've ever been more busy. I've done a whopping 1 load of laundry (all week!) and 1 load of dishes (in the dishwasher, NOT a difficult task), and somehow my house is still a mess, I still have Alaska stuff out, I still don't make my bed before noon every day, and I still don't cook dinner.

Just now I figured out the problem with my theory. All of my "stay at home" days have been because I was sick. And sick days go by SLOW. In my house growing up the rule was that "if you're too sick to go to ____ (work, school, church) you're too sick to play". So, I was bound to the bed/couch and I was not allowed to do anything except watch Disney movies, read books, and puke my guts out.

Now that I'm a grown up - I still live by that rule, I set up camp on the couch or bed, everything I could need in a day within arms length. I am usually surrounded by 3 or 4 remote controls, a phone, a book, a drink (with a straw - we only used straws when we were sick growing up) a bag of Saltine crackers, and garbage can in case of emergency.

Looking at the situation now, it makes complete sense why I thought 8 hours was such a long time, and why I knew that "if only I felt better, I would be getting so much done right now!" but the thing that never occurred to me, was that when you're feeling well, even when you're a "stay at home mom" you don't really stay at home. You still have things to do.

I've had a very relaxed week, and it's been full of fun, but I somehow still find myself driving home in rush hour traffic 3 out of 4 days so far. I'm not getting home any earlier than I was before. And while I might be at home more hours of the day, I'm checking my e-mail, blogging, reading, and NOT cleaning, doing laundry, and cooking. For this reason, I don't think I will ever be able to call myself a "stay at home mom" I'm changing it to a "with my kids" mom.....but until kids come, I'm just plain "unemployed" which doesn't sound nearly as pretty.