coming up for air

I have been wondering about this blog as a means of self exploration. It seems awfully boring to present some of my meandering introspection to all of you, while you all wait for the punch line.

So, I'll meander and then give you a funny bathroom story.

I started playing this game, Aion, with my husband. It was going to be a great way to spend time with him in a way he felt really connected with. We could set goals together, explore together, discover a new world together, and feel satisfied that our relationship had ambition and success.

We participated in the closed beta, and then open beta, and finally the game launched in late August. It was a lot of fun. We were part of a great guild that a friend of mine recommended. I became popular in my various roles in the guild.

Then I started to notice that family dinners were harder to put together. I needed to be crafting online. Sometimes the kids would go back to school without having done their homework, but there were forts that needed to be defended. The two little girls started to be glued to laps or otherwise acting out for lack of attention, but levels needed to be grinded. Finally, Tag's medicine ran out but I couldn't quite find the time to get it refilled, because... and that's when something inside of me snapped.

I hadn't written in almost 4 months (besides a stupid nothing update), it was getting to be harder to find time with friends, and the gym was becoming less imperative to me. Not only that, but I spent less face time with my husband while sitting directly beside him for hours on end, than when I never touched games at all.

So I quit.

It was interesting to lay my reasons for quitting before Man, and wonder what his reaction would be. After the money, time, and spending the energy to build guild relationships, it seemed wasteful to just set it all aside. But I compared it to a Reece's PB cup in my hand. I could either eat it, or throw it away. In either case it would be gone, but I know which decision will help me feel better about myself at the end of the day.

Sometimes I wonder if quitting was the right answer. There were many other solutions I could have chosen, like only playing certain nights of the week. Or only playing on long weekends. I could also just limit my game time to when the kids are in bed. However, my best intentions were foiled by my tendency toward laziness.

So, this past Sunday, I gave away many thousands of kinah worth in crafting supplies, sent all my remaining money to Man, and signed off with a thank you to a great guild.

In the mean time, I've had a lot of time to wonder what it is I do with my time. It seemed so important to me that I was willing to quit an epic journey for it, but now I feel lost all over again. Now that we're all over strep and a possible bout of swine flu (exposure to confirmed case, followed by illness strongly resembling said flu) I'm back in the gym and I've even started a new short story I'm excited about. But what about the rest of my day?

I've caught up on this season of Bones, House, The Office, Castle, and 30 Rock. Believe it or not, it only took two days. My dishes are once again done (thanks to my marvelous mother, who came to visit) and I'm back in the habit of cooking every night.

So I twiddle my thumbs and again wonder "now what?" over and over as I slowly go through the house and correct things bit by bit.

There are a few things I'd like to do with my life that I hadn't even thought about attempting before Aion, like actually participating in NaNoWriMo (in the privacy of my own computer though, none of this entering things online for anyone else to see garbage) and there's still the matter of this college application that's hanging in limbo. Also, my food storage plan is a lot easier to gauge now that Raul is on the scene. He's doing a marvelous job of keeping cans organized for me, and letting me know when it's time to get new supplies. All I do is glance at each can's intake. If I can't see old cans, it's time to get new.

Domestic matters are always calling, as well, like upcoming Halloween. My kids' minds seem to change all the time concerning their costumes. Tag has wanted to be Dash, a police officer, and a few other things that don't come to mind right away. Princess wants to be a Snow Princess, Pebbles wants to be whatever she last heard a sibling say they wanted to be, and Freida just likes candy. So, that needs to be taken care of.

The day I quit, Man looked troubled and grumpy. I was terribly worried that he was mad at me, but I clung to the assurance that I knew for sure I had made the right decision. Later that night, he hugged me and said he was proud of me, for making a tough decision that was right for me. That felt good.

Anyway, let's get back to the bathroom story.

I was out at lunch with my mom at this grill sports bar place when the Call of Nature became insistent. The bathroom there smelled surprisingly sterile, as if something had wiped the whole place down with undiluted bleach and then not rinsed.

They have these toilets with the bowls that have a very slight grade to them. I always worry about some splash back from that sort but I try not to think about it too much. Someone else came into the bathroom, hacking up a juicy lung on her way to the handicapped stall. I winced, thinking about how that was the first thing I did upon entering the bathroom since I didn't want the diners at large to know I was ill.

I completed what I came to do, and wasn't paying attention to where I dropped my toilet paper. It ended up close to the rim. I flushed, but the water failed to remove my papery evidence at all. I flushed again, blushing that the Sick Person might hear that I was having a problem in my stall only two doors down.

What are your options at that point? There was no Instrument of Toilet Correction and Cleaning available, and under no circumstances was I going to be putting my hands into a public toilet, laden with bleach or not. There was only one thing I could do, and that would be to run.

I opened my stall door, ready to dash for the exit, when I heard the bathroom door open. I quickly closed my door, hoping she didn't see me. If I had run at that point, I would have risked her seeing that my toilet bowl still had paper in it, and then she'd think I was some sort of slob. After hearing her run to the last available stall, I quickly left my stall, agonized over the time it takes to thoroughly wash ones hands and properly vacate a restroom without touching anything else unless you have a paper towel barrier well in place, and then whirled out the bathroom door just as the handicapped stall door began to open.

I was safe. Now, no one would know who left the toilet paper in the bowl.

And that's important to me. Inexplicably.

Time Out of Women

This past weekend I went with a great group of ladies to enjoy Deseret Book's Time Out for Women. It's supposed to be an opportunity for women to get away from their families for a while, hear some funny and spiritual talks given by Utah celebs, and generally chill out on a Saturday.

We drove down on Friday to hear the evening session as well. It was interesting to look over the "menu" for the event and realize I'd only ever heard of one or two featured persons. Michael McLean (whose name I had to look up to spell correctly) performed twice on Friday, Ardeth Kapp spoke (someone in front of us said that Ardeth Kapp's husband is a cousin of Janice Kapp Perry, whose music I enjoy), and Hilary Weeks rounded out the speakers/performers.

Michael McLean had a very funny piece about how taking anti-depressants isn't shameful at all, and for some people it's life saving treatment. (can't find the lyrics online) He went on about how he dealt with severe depression until the Spirit whispered "boy, get yourself some pills". I thought it was interesting that untreated depression was a topic of such great importance to so many that he decided to feature it in his otherwise cater-to-the-stereotypical-Utah-oriented-woman styled presentation. He also sang songs about a birth mother giving up her baby, and a song about longing to be heard by heaven when in great pain. One of the phrases in a song he sang that really jumped out at me was "you know the truth as you fear it." Think about that for a while.

The Saturday speakers were Mark Mabry (of Reflections of Christ fame), Kim A Nelson (very funny man), DeAnn Flynn, Brent L Top, and Mary Ellen Edmunds (who signed my tote bag, I loved her so much). (I had never heard of any of these people)

After the meeting on Saturday Hilary Weeks and Mary Ellen Edmunds stayed around to sign books and things. Mary Ellen gave each person who came to her for a signature a big, long hug. That woman has no fear, it seems. There is flu of many kinds going around, there's always someone with questionable hygiene in every crowd, and regional illnesses abound. Yet she reached right into everyone's personal space with a gesture of love. She was my favorite for sure.

At the hotel we were staying at, we met a nice young man in a BYU t-shirt. We said hi, he said he was in town for the convention, we all smiled and parted ways. Later I was introducing myself to someone at a booth where we gleefully found that we were both Annies (with different real names) when I heard someone hollar "hey, Annie, I know you!"

I turned around to find Mr BYU T-Shirt all dressed up and manning the Shelf Reliance table.

There it was, Raul II, outfitted with accessory shelves and filled with Shelf Reliance brand merchandise. I told BYU about Raul, and his perfection. BYU was tickled by that and began telling everyone who came to the booth about Raul as I read over his brochures. After the fourth or fifth declaration of my naming my shelf, I started to feel cheapened. Raul was not a marketing gimmick, darn it! He's special and mine. Later that day I went to grab another brochure and say goodbye to BYU. He smiled and said "well, I'll see you back at the hotel."

That drew me up short. I said "we've already checked out" and then ran away. Which I can do now. I mean run. Not run away.

All in all it felt like more of a commercial experience than a really spiritual one, but I had some good laughs and really enjoyed the people I went with. Each of them surprised me with how funny and interesting they could be. I finally got my social time after these months of nursery.

I don't think I'll go again until I have more "spare" money and it's a little closer. It was nice but not something I'm interested in sacrificing for. Seeing a live General Conference, on the other hand, sounds like a treat excelsior.

Pink school

A: [knocks on our door]

Pebbles: [runs to the door, throws it open, and is excited to see her good friend returning some shoes] Ooooh, pretty dress. Are you going to church?

A: No, going to preschool.

P: Pink school? I wanna go to pink school.

Me: Pebbles, you're 3, you need to be 4 to go to preschool.

P: Oooh, ok, I'm 4.

Man: when did you turn 4?

P: I'm 4 and wanna pink school.

-sigh- If only it were that easy.

Man has been on leave for over a week now and my routines are shot. :)

The gym is going well except for an ankle issue that has become my poltergeist. I now walk/run for 2 mins/1.25 mins. Which, of course, is up from 3 mins/15 seconds. Progress, but nary a pound has meandered away. Oh, well. What weighs me down makes me stronger, right?

There was a church activity recently for which I made dolmades with real grape leaves someone brought back from Utah. Recipe is here.

Tag has been put into a supplemental reading program at school because he thinks reading is boring. Time to get more car books. Tag is still making friends all over the neighborhood and riding his bike all over creation.

Princess has been growing taller and thinner all the time. She now stands almost as tall as some of my shorter friends. She rides her bike a lot too and is finally making more friends, now that school is in.

Freida just put together a sentence yesterday "want help me, please" but her "please" still sounds like "neesh". She likes to exclaim "oh, bauw!" when something spills and uses a generous pile of my wash rags to clean even the tiniest mess. We've lost a few to her industrious chucking of things into the garbage.

Water balloons

Funny how life is a series of experiences, but some sure take a lot of work.

The water balloon fight I promised the kids finally came about today. I made the mistake of buying water balloons from the PX (buying anything from the PX turns out to be a disappointment 98% of the time) so two hours of balloon filling resulted in a scant half of the 300 balloons I purchased actually ending up in buckets. Pebbles watched me fill them, squealing in delight each time one burst after being filled with a mere couple ounces of water, and often inviting me to splash her feet. The kids came home from school in haste, anticipating my promise of water balloons as soon as the whole family was home. Tag completely forgot about his backpack when he stopped on the front porch to watch with trembling hands as each balloon was selected and met its fate as either trash or treasure.

I think the balloon fight lasted fewer than 5 minutes. The older kids and I really got into it though, figuring out how to make the balloons glance off of us and fall to the grass. All in all, a sweet experience.

And next time we'll be getting those water bomb things. Little sponges and buckets of water placed strategically around the yard sounds far more pleasant and will certainly last a bit longer during the main event.

The church glare

It's funny how different people react to different things.

My kids are wiggly in church. They are very busy people under normal circumstances, always doing something to play or move or manipulate objects. Church is hard for them and getting them to sit still is a constant work in progress. Of course they'll get there. But I feel their pain. After being in nursery or dealing with young children for so long my own attention span has waned over the years until a normal meeting where I don't have kids to shush feels painfully long. Man isn't much help since he deals with his boredom by playing with them. They do different high five games (up in space -- in your face; cut the pickle -- tickle tickle tickle!), he pokes them, or whatever it takes to keep them both happy. I often feel as if I have an extra kid to shush. He used to just snooze through the meeting and I'd elbow him and he'd say he was just closing his eyes to listen or some crap like that.

This past Sunday was Stake Conference. It's a 2 hour sermon, instead of a 1 hour sacrament meeting broken up by songs with 2 addition classes afterward. Those two hours are very long to little people. We sat in the second row back, right in sight of the Mission President's Wife (which I think is an official title in some circles). It seemed that she was of the philosophy that young children should sit still as mold during Important Gospel Instruction even though most of it is over the heads of the 3 year olds we were sitting among. She glared at us every time Frieda squawked, glared at us when Tag laughed at Man, glared at us when Princess forgot to use a total whisper voice. Is seems that she was so distracted by us that she rarely got any Important Gospel Instruction of her own unless she was giving her own talk about compassion and heeding the directions of the Spirit. It may not have helped that I didn't look very miserable with my brood teeming about me, my eyes fixed either on the speaker or on the Dot Game Tag made up for my edification and delight (with occasional glances to see if her penciled eyebrows would disappear entirely in her scowl).

The elderly lady sitting behind us just smiled and told me I had beautiful kids.

I smiled back, because I know they're beautiful, and just as imperfect as I am. Who wants perfect kids? Booooo-ooooring.

Last night we watched an episode of House. A guy in an airplane (SPOILER!!!) was diagnosed with the bends when someone pushed on his joints, which eased the pain he was in. Afterward the kids and I talked about how deep in the water someone might dive, and how heavy water is when you go deep.

Me: He might go down so deep that 15 houses stacked on top of each other would barely poke out of the water.

Princess: on their sides, or just top to bottom?

Me: Top to bottom.

Tag: Well, what if he used toy houses? Then he wouldn't hurt so much.

Me: [pause] Um, they don't actually use houses to measure how deep they go.

Tag: I know, but toy houses is shorter. He should only go down toy houses.

Princess: If you soaked the houses in water, would they fall apart?

Me: [sigh] Parts of them would, maybe.

Today was day two of circuit training. Man, stetching afterward might have made this past weekend far less painful. Back we go again tomorrow for cardio. Today I was able to run for a bit without hurting too badly. Slow progress is my friend.

Pictures

Tag: Will Oma be surprised at how big I'm getting?
Me: Always. Just like me.


Tag wanted to be in the pic by himself. Pebbles wanted to join in. This is Tag, fed up with his sister.


These two look so related to me.


Man, what a hunk!


This is a fairly typical look on his face. He pulls off "lost orphan" pretty well except in real life he's so full of happy energy.


And there's my goofy girl.

What to write about

Pebbles says Hi! while trying to hide some fluff in her hand. The fluff is from our bagless vacuum. She was twisting it into yarn, like mommy.

Wow, things havn't gotten less busy since the kids went to school. I'm now going to the gym at least 4 days out of the week (the goal is 5, but you know life), and generally being more involved with local activities, like dinners and church activities.

Today was my first day of working with Jo, my friend who is, in every way, an athlete. This woman plays soccer, runs 10k races, and has tons of experience with trainers and B12 shots and all kinds of hard core stuff that I've only ever heard about. She set up several stations around our gym and for 30 mins we puffed, grunted, and heaved air through clenched teeth while listening to Coldplay and The History Channel. After that I did 30 mins of lighter cardio while the other ladies continued their various methods of sucking oxygen into their straining bodies. But Jo was cool as a cuke. She not only did planks, she did funky one-armed planks. She not only did lunges, she did lunges with weights and turns and maybe even a few disco moves while I wasn't looking.

Pebbles tries to keep a straight face. She's actually pretty good at it
when she's trying very hard.

This Sunday our little family has been invited to join a larger choir made of families to perform for Stake Conference. We'd be privileged to sit in the front row and stand and sing at the beginning and end. I had issues with this arrangement at first, knowing what I know about my wiggly kids and a standard one hour meeting. Two hours is going to be brutal. What sort of big guns should I bring out for this event? They didn't really want to practice the songs (I'm Trying to Be Like Jesus and It Shouldn't Be Hard to Sit Very Still <-- I'm still giggling over the irony of that one) until I told them that to celebrate all of our hard work at practicing and a job well done in church, we're going to have a water balloon party for family home evening. That perked their interest with haste. I didn't call it a bribe to their faces, but isn't that what it comes down to? Let's call it a reward. :)

Pebbles -- losing the stoney face a bit. With prompting. ;)

Remember my sexy shelves? Now there is one that is indeed MY sexy shelf.

It doesn't look as sexy in this pic as it does it real life. Flash isn't flattering on anyone. Also, notice how I didn't really read the directions that told me to put the bar with the Shelf Reliance logo in the top-front position. Oh well! My shelf, my mistake, but no problem at all.

I havn't filled it yet but soon, yes soon. There was a case lot sale on post recently wherein I secured two cases of mushroom pieces for 34 cents a can, which is just a little over half the normal price. A few other great deals landed us a substantial increase in our planned food storage. I'm not sure that we're at a place in life where we can really pull together a year's worth of food (huge potential for moving still -- I've told Man that he needs to get promoted at least twice before the next time we move so our weight limit increases, or the first things to go will start with G and end with AMES) but I think a 3 month supply is exceedingly doable.

A few things on the top shelf. Man was digging the corned beef hash at the case lot sale. So he got that, and I got a case of PopTarts.

And example of how versatile they are. Canned chicken on one end, lemonade on the other. #10 cans are on the bottom.

Pebbles was really into the photo shoot.

Princess at school

I'm loving some of the writing assignments Princess brings how nowadays. Here are a couple of samples:

The Wise Monkey (A Story Review)

I like the part when the monkey eats all the cheese because it is funny and mean. Me and my sisters love cheese. I think the monkey is weird and not wise. Instead I think the monkey is a weirdo.


Here is an adlib sort of story she wrote:

One dark morning I woke up and found that I had been turned into a baby. I was very tiny. I had tattoos all over my body. They were itchy and gold. At home, my fish gave me a spanking and told me to eat my cereal. But I wanted a flower instead. At school, my principal was laughing and I had to sit in a locker. Finally, they called a magician and I was soon back to being myself. Everyone said "what!!" and I agreed with them!

(she says to tell you all that the "what" part was a mess up. It should have been "what a day!")

We had some really great laughs over this, and now I simply MUST get some real adlibs for this child.

pics

She's getting so big. :(

Wheat Grinder Giveaway

I've never participated in a web giveaway before, but this one looked interesting.

Remember those shelves I told you about? The website you can buy them from has a blog and a weekly giveaway, located here. Go check it out!

I figure most of the stuff you can sign up for online ends up being so much attention-grabbing garbage to begin with, but from a place that made this sexy thing:


I shall trust that the giveaway will be good. :) (Doesn't her left hand say it all? she can't keep her hands off this pillar of perfection.) (disclaimer, I did not take this photo and couldn't figure out who did.)