"Their Real Children": One of Many Choices in Phrasing That Makes me Uneasy

Truth be told...I'm kind of an unpleasant person, in a lot of ways. I mean, I'm polite, and try to please people because I do want others to be comfortable and happy around me, and I also can't stand contention (particularly when I know I'm wrong)...but some of it I know is just a pain. Case in point: I can be ridiculously particular.

Example: when I was 12, my 6th grade teacher had this August calendar on the wall.  The kind that each day of the month is pinned up individually? He never changed it, and it became kind of a funny joke.  And then I couldn't stand it one day in March, and changed it. Because I'm that person.

Or, I corrected a Biology teacher for his spelling in college once. Not to put him down and show my superiority, though he felt this was what I was meaning to do and immediately made me look stupid in front of the class for it. This bewildered me: I hadn't thought it through at all. I was just being accurate. It's wrong, let him know. Eh?

It's not OCD, it's not obsessive (I think)...but I do like things to be correct, as far as I understand them. Accurate. I don't know why, but I do. (Jori does, too, actually, but that's a different story.)

And one way this is definitely true is in people getting the appropriate credit they deserve. And me not getting credit I don't. (Not even in a humble way, honestly; for whatever reason, the prospect of being praised for things I didn't do makes me exceedingly uncomfortable. I'm all for credit when I did something, but when I didn't, I always have this image of the truth coming out and people, shocked, snapping their heads to look at me with shock and utter betrayal in their eyes...what the heck, Ariel's psyche.)

ANYWAY this is all to lead up to say, sometimes things people say bother me. (Don't stop talking, I don't want you to walk on eggshells with your choice of words around me...but I like reflecting, in an effort to be more considerate to people who might be different than me. That's all I'm going for, here.)

One of these is the phrasing people choose to use, in regards to adopted children or children who were raised by some that were not their biological parents.

I don't say this to discredit birth parents. Honestly, I've always been pro-life, but have also always been very pro-adoption. But it is true, with the more I learn about abortion, the less judgmental I become of the 17-year-old who decided to keep her baby. My first thought is often now "Thank you for not killing it while it was still inside of you," rather than "It would have been so much better off if you'd given it up for adoption." I truly can not imagine the agony it would be to grow this life inside of me, and then say good bye to it. It would be such a challenge.

So I try not to blame them for keeping it...and those who DO give it up, I see as heroes. Honest-to-goodness, incredible examples of Christ-like love. What a selfless act.

They will always be the birth parents. They deserve that recognition, that the life started with them.

BUT. Children can be absolutely, 100% 'yours,' even if you had nothing to do with their conception. And just because a pair of people were what began a child's life, does not make them the 'real' or 'actual' parents. No.

What makes a parent a parent is raising a child. This can be a grandparent, a set of grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends, strangers, even biological siblings. Where the baby came from does not make them any less a part of the family that they grow up in.

I know! This is dumb. I've used this phraseology myself. 'Real' or 'actual' parents. I probably will again, and soon. Call me out on it, if you so desire.

But when I DO think about it (as I tend to do, overthink things)...it seems like a discredit to the adoptive parents. Like their contribution is lessened, because they didn't grow the baby themselves.

I just think, these parents deserve so much credit and recognition, too! Bringing in a child to their home, to try to give it a better life than it may have otherwise had. Being responsible for the care and nurturing and...EVERYTHING, of that child. I'd say for 18 years, but as I'm about to turn 27 and my parents are still constantly taking care of me, I feel more comfortable saying it's forever.

Giving some the label of 'actual' parents, and it not going to the ones that are with that child through thick and thin...it just seems inappropriate, somehow.

Perhaps some of this is spurred by Sam's oldest sister and her husband in the process of adopting a down-syndrome baby from near Russia. Perhaps part of it is because I'm due with my third child in six weeks, and have been talking with the kids about how babies come into this world. It could also be because facebook-clicking lead me to a dear friend's ex-husband's account, and how he now has all these pictures up of him doing service in third world countries for orphans...but he was and is a terrible father to the children that he, biologically, fathered. I don't know.

But families can be created in a multitude of ways, and I think the ones who've given up the life they knew before to raise human beings in love, sure deserve a pat on the back. Y'all are awesome.

Three Stories/Messages, I've Been Pondering a Lot

I want to write these down, because the details are fading from my memory and I don't want them to disappear completely without a trace.

Sometimes certain things really strike me as truth. Like "That's it." A light bulb, a-HA moment if you will. I know everyone has these. It can be listening to others speak, it can just be pondering things on your own and suddenly something makes sense. Well I wanted to share three that I really liked, before I forget them again.

The first was the longest ago. Maybe three or four years. I think it's when Sam and I were living in my parent's ward. We were in sacrament meeting. I can't remember if it was a talk given...I think it was. I'll say woman A was telling us about this, in a talk.

Here's the mottled, general idea: this woman (woman B), in a different sacrament meeting, had either been speaking or listening to someone else speak...I can't remember which. But she felt drawn to this other woman (woman C) in the meeting. (Either the one that was speaking, or someone in the congregation who was crying as she spoke.) Somehow she figured out that...I can't remember if this family had just moved somewhere, I don't think that's what it was. But there had been black mold all over most of their possessions. Is that the dangerous kind? The dangerous kind. Once it'd been discovered, they had to get rid of just about everything.

I think there was something else to it too, like the breadwinner of this C family was out of work or...you know. Something sad.

Anyway woman B? She felt strongly that she should just, give woman C most of her furniture. She didn't go buy her some, she gave the family her own. (I think she was an empty nester herself, and woman C had kids at home.) So she took, straight out of her living room, all these couches and end tables...I think it went so far as emptying extra bedrooms of most of their furniture as well, and the kitchen table.

I can't remember the details! But here's the thing: she didn't buy new furniture for like, over a year. She and her husband just went without. I don't even think they had to, monetarily; they just did. I think they had a few folding chairs but not much else.

So woman A, telling the congregation I was a part of about this story, was a relative of woman B. And she said woman B didn't tell anyone about this, didn't seek recognition for her generous act. In fact, they had a family gathering to celebrate something at woman B's house. And the family, upon seeing there was almost no furniture in the home, asked her about it and were (understandably) quite surprised. They mostly ate on the floor, or found camping chairs or boxes or odd things to sit on. But woman B wasn't embarrassed or anything, and she basically said something along the lines of "oh, we don't need it" in response.

I LOVE this. I think I've mentioned my love/hate relationship with pinterest, because I love the idea of making a home beautiful with limited funds and some elbow grease, but I hate that it's made me self conscious about the way my own house may appear to others. And in this story, the woman's not only willingness to give of what she possessed, but also her lack of embarrassment! SHE knew what mattered. SHE was truly living as Christ would have lived.

Story #2: This I heard in a Relief Society meeting, when I was attending church at my brother Nate's ward when they were living in Provo. Again, it's a bit fuzzy...this one was more like a year ago though. And it's shorter anyway. So hopefully with it being heard more recently and it's length, you'll get the general gist.

I can't remember if the woman sharing this comment was the recipient or the one giving...but a woman, around 30, stood up and told of this woman in the ward (herself or her visiting teacher, I can't recall which) who had felt prompted to take dinner to her visiting teachee's house. And she felt flustered and embarrassed, cause she wasn't prepared for such, but she humbly took over a frozen pizza (still frozen) at about 7:00. When they answered the door, she was all apologies; she knew they had young kids and eating dinner after 7:00 can be super late for young kids, and all it was was a frozen pizza and she wished she had something more impressive to offer. Etc. Etc. But they were SO grateful for it!

I like this story for a similar reason: sometimes, I feel like I only will have worth if I do things that are impressive. That's a lot of different feelings summed up in a nutshell, I think. If I dress the best, if my kids are the best behaved, if I do the best crafts with them, if I am the most social (totally not my nature), if I have the most beautiful house, if I cook the most exquisitely.

In my mind I am PASSIONATE about people understanding that their worth is not something they earn, or that can be taken away by their or others' actions; it is God-given, and not going anywhere. But it is one thing to say such, to even feel such some of the time...and to keep it in mind when feelings of inferiority sneak in without me realizing it.

So I am, through and through, the pizza woman. I basically never am on top of things. (I was finally showered and dressed at 11:15 today, for example. My hair dried by 11:30. But it's dried! That's impressive for me!) I'm forgetful and have a hard time with ranking priorities. But I love that this story makes me feel like: I don't have to be the best cook! Or the best anything! My less-than-perfect offering is still one worth making. (I talked about this in my last lesson, just that last line...funny how I can forget to internalize well these things I so desperately want my girls to understand.) And I think, as time goes on, I'll hopefully grow to be better at some of the things I wish to be better at...but it won't be because of guilt or shame. Because as I am is worthwhile, too. Currently.

Story #3 isn't even a story, and it isn't really the same message as the first two. It was just a couple lines, uttered a couple of months ago, by a woman in my ward. She has such a soothing voice, let me tell ya. It's a pleasure to hear her speak, honestly. But that's beside the point: she started off her talk with a story about washing the dishes as a young mother (she's now in her forties I think, with grown children) with her baby playing at her feet. And this wasn't the point of the story but she said something to this effect, in passing, about washing dishes, "It's something I used to hate, but learned to love to do."

She didn't say this proudly; in fact, it wasn't even her point. (The point she did make with the story, which was about following the Spirit, was excellent as well, btw.) But this stuck out to me because, how often do I view things this way? Learning to love to do the things I currently hate doing, that I consider necessary? How often do I even TRY to adopt this? I do try to get better at the things I hate doing, I think; but do I really try to love them? I don't know. Did she? With persistent effort and a determination not to view it in a negative light anymore?

Sometimes messages kind of like this can make me feel bad, like "Great, I have TWO steps further to go. I not only need to get good at it, I need to get good at it and then LIKE it. Oi vey."

But this one didn't. Perhaps it was the gentility of the speaker, or the lack of judgment in the delivery of the message. Or something else. Whatever the reason, I was grateful to have that to think on. Learning to love washing dishes.

Pregnant with a third child? Whatevs. ...Really?

It's been interesting, being pregnant with a third. I honestly thought in some ways it wouldn't be that exciting. Maybe part of this is because I have a boy and a girl, so it seemed I'd hit what many seem to hope for. One of each!

I was surprised, and delighted, to discover that hasn't been how it is at all. Maybe I had a spell at the beginning where it wasn't that exciting, and I wasn't loving feeling sick really early this time...but I got an ultrasound where they dated me at six weeks, five days. And already, that little sea monkey had a heartbeat.

I wish I could describe sufficiently the joy this knowledge brought on. It's weird, seriously. The thing is minuscule at that point. And what am I fussing about, I already have kids. But it really hit me then. "I really am growing a baby."

There is something truly magnificent about a human life, I think. Thrilling. Miraculous. Bizarre. I mean how the heck?! How would you describe making a human child, if it were in terms of a cookbook.

Need:
1 egg
1 sperm
Directions:
Mix well; leave to rise for 9 months. Enjoy your HUMAN BEING!

It boggles my mind, that after I just go about life doing whatever, albeit slightly differently (nausea, exhaustion, discomfort blah blah) afterward a person comes out. With their own eyes, and nose, and stomach and liver and heart and brain and personality.

I know lots of people don't believe in a God, and that's their choice. But I hope they still feel the miracle, feel how astounding and incredible, this is. Life. Because it really just fills me with wonder. And...warm fuzzies.

So when I've told people I didn't find out the gender of this one, even though I could have at 16 weeks, they tell me "I guess you've got one of each!" As if why would I care? Same old, same old. I already have a boy and a girl, this one's just kind of a bonus. And I mumble agreement, hesitantly.

Really though...I can't wait for my 21 week ultrasound next Wednesday. (I didn't have one five weeks ago cause I'm cheap, and didn't want to pay the out of pocket for a Gender Check Ultrasound, not because I don't care.)

Seriously. I can't wait to find out everything I can about him/her. I love hearing it's heartbeat every OBGYN appointment I go to. I love the new feeling I've had, of it moving around. I love ticking off every week on my calendar, to the 24 week point mainly, because I've always had a sense of peace at this point (that being the age where babies have survived outside of the womb). And I love, more than knowing the gender, knowing that everything is developing as it should and my baby is okay. Because man. I want this baby to be okay.

I am PUMPED to have a third child. It doesn't mean less because there are others who've come before it; it matters because it has it's own worth, independent of where it falls in a family line up or how many of its gender has come before (or may come after).

So yeah, it's my third. But it's still amazing.

What's the Matter, You Scared?

Sam and I were watching The Great Debaters the other day. Actually this isn't about that movie though: it's about a line said in the movie, that I see all the time in movies and on television, that makes me bristle.

"What's the matter, you scared?"

The Henry Lowe character used this on Samantha Booke to get her to ditch the dance, and her chaperon, and scamper off to some previously unknown-to-her-location, to "listen to some real music." But what they did isn't the issue, or the motivations. It's the tactic.

I HATE THAT.

Why do people ask that, with tones of accusation? Disgust? Challenge? Why is fear so despicable to people?

 How do people not understand that it is simply a manipulation tool? The accuser is undermining the person's confidence. Making them feel weak. Or, accusing them of being weak.

But why? This is so stupid to me.

Fear can be a good thing. Fear keeps us from doing crazy, stupid, selfish things, and ruining lives. Fear can actually keep us strong. As long as it is rational, at least.

This means even more to me I think, since becoming the mother of a son. I don't want him to believe idiots who try to use fear to make him think he is less of a human being, that there is something wrong with him, and that the only way to be complete is by doing whatever they've challenged him to do.

I don't look to men who get egged on and do crazy stunts as heroes, as braver than brave. Who do things that are vicious, or dangerous, or idiotic, as admirable.

I look to the ones who stand up and actually act like men. Who recognize that they are human, that they get afraid. And know how to handle it. Know how to work through it, or use it to direct their behavior.

So I have one prime example of bravery instead, to offer up.

Joseph, from the Bible, fleeing from Potiphar's wife. He could very well have had the hots for her. We know she had been persistent. Perhaps she tried to use tactics similar to this sentence I abhor. But Joseph knew the danger and he ran. He didn't try to prove his manliness in any sinful private soirée; rather, he knew what was right and what was not, he recognized the weakness in himself (perhaps), and he fled from the situation rather than do something he would be ashamed of and punished for later. That is courage. That is brave. 

A thought from a most-of-her-life skinny girl

I've always wanted to give people a glimpse of something, but haven't for fear of being seriously hated by women.

You know what's weird? I've been skinny my whole life (up until now, and even then I'm not doing that bad for having two kids and never exercising, just got a wee bit of flab in the middle region). But this really gave me no advantage (at least as a minor) in self esteem.

I just thought it might be helpful to know: skinniness wasn't some form of pride for me, because it just...was. In fact, it was quite the opposite: I was a seriously scrawny kid. And I knew it. (And still dis-like my chicken legs, mainly at the knee. Those things will poke your eye out.) Then I hit....12-year-old-hood, and looked around and witnessed all these girls my age blossoming into these lovely young women. But I'd look in the mirror and still see someone who looked three years younger than she actually was, with crooked teeth and pasty-white skin. Boo.

It makes sense now. As one man put it in his blog, women are taught that they are supposed to be desired. Period.

It wasn't magazines, or seeing skinny women in movies that made my self image rocky. It was seeing what men WANTED, which was women who...looked really feminine. So small waist-to-hip ratio, and large breasts. These were the girls, and later women, who got attention, and as I was taught by the media--I was supposed to be desired. Women are supposed to be the ones who are pursued, and should have attentions to brush off left and right.

So what did this tell me? That my worth was not dependent on being small (because from experience, I knew this did not give any advantage), but on being desirable in a more carnal way. And I certainly wasn't. I was a 'late bloomer.'

Even into adulthood, when I finally got a smidgen of curves and some guys in college seemed to think I wasn't as gawky as I thought I was, it was the attentions of the opposite sex that gave me my confidence boosts. Everyone wants to be desired, right? But isn't it obvious what a horrible foundation to build one's self confidence on? No wonder so many women have a hard time with aging.

I guess I have a couple points in telling this:

1. I know lots of women have issues, SERIOUS issues, with viewing their body as fat. But not all do. And honestly, I think the biggest impact here will come from the family, particularly the mom. I feel blessed to say I never really remember hearing my mom talk badly about her image in front of me, so I never had a bad example to follow. So yes, the media needs to change...but mamas of girls will make so, so much more of an impact. 
2. No one looks perfect, and basically every female I can remember knowing, when asked (in a girl-talk kind of way) if they would change anything about their appearance, would change something. (I am certainly not exempt: I've always wished I could be tan.)
3. Yes, the average woman with a lead role in a movie is skinnier than the average woman in normal life. But I don't think attacking this is accurate enough: what really needs to change are the stories being told. Women are not as limited as they seem in movies and on tv: they are not just pretty for the men's benefit, a little slice of pie for when he gets bored. They aren't only interested in doing their hair, or being helpless and needing rescue. Or even in, you know, "proving their womanhood" by being ridiculously violent. They can be strong, and insecure, and lovely, but they can also be witty, and un-expected, and awkward, and mature and forgiving. And what I REALLY wish I'd learned: they are not all ridiculously beautiful, and live only to attract men and then shrug off the attentions snootily. They can also be the pursuers! They can also have poor face symmetry and still be a man's entire world; they can be pasty and not have large breasts and still be wonderful company. Their lives do not revolve around sex, on one side of it or another. (And this is still all the romantic stuff, which is wonderful but only one aspect of a wonderful life!) Which brings me to my last idea:
4. Maybe men in movies and on tv need to change, too. I know there are men out there that are as...unscrupulous, as they're depicted to be; who live for one night stands and do view women as objects. But not all do, and it's a dis-credit to them to make it seem like NO men respect women, and the main goal of every day needs to be sexual gratification if you were born with a Y chromosome. It'd be great to see a man who believed in sexual purity, on tv. Who isn't a monk. A monk who usually turns out to be a big fighter, anyway. (FIGHTERS! Violence is another big one, but for another day.)

Midnight musings. I guess ultimately, I hope I can do the same my mom did as far as not giving my daughter(s) one more thing they have to fight, and I hope that my kids can see that there's more to life than only romance, what surrounds romance and violence. Fingers crossed. 

-Ariel June

I'm grateful

When Jori was itty bitty (not that she isn't anymore-4th percentile for height and weight, but still) and she cried a lot lot, I'd need sometimes to sit down and count my blessings. (Here's an example.) I've also seen this poem that I really loved...most of which I've forgotten, but the only line that stuck with me was something like "I'm glad for dirty dishes to remind me I have enough food to eat" or something like that. Certainly a positive spin on things! So. I wanted to do something similar now. Gotta turn this stress furrow into a smile wrinkle!

• I'm grateful Sam is busy/gone a lot, as much as 12 hours some days of the week, because it's a reminder he's got a job and we have direction in our life again that make the classes he's taking a tool, a means-to-an-end, not an inconvenience. 
• I'm grateful for feeling tired--it makes me appreciate the nights I do get a good night's sleep.
• I'm grateful my back hurts a lot, because it's a reminder I have a human being growing inside of me. What a privilege, honestly. I know I'm lucky to have this ability, and to get to become a mother all over again! 
• I'm grateful to have a lot of belly-shifting going on, because of the same reason and further, it tells me he's healthy and continuing to grow. 
• I'm grateful to be a mama in school, because how many people experience both at the same time? It's a privilege to get to constantly be peaking into two different worlds, and have such different ways to relate to many people. And for someone who gets restless easily, it's lovely to switch gears constantly. Keeps things interesting, even if it is overwhelming at times. 
• I'm grateful for when Jori is disobedient/tantrum-ing, because it makes me recognize how much of the time she isn't. What a relief! 
• I'm grateful to have this last mountain to climb. 1/4 of one class and 1 full class left, before the July 26 deadline. If I'm still aiming for graduating in August. It's (at this point) about equivalent to being a full-time student, just cause I figure a regular semester is around 15 weeks long, and a full time student takes 15 credits--I'll have about 3 weeks to complete the 3 credits remaining. But this will make me both extremely grateful to be done with school, and also already makes me grateful I've had education so easily accessible. It may be stressful but I know I'm lucky to have so much information, so much potential knowledge, right at my fingertips. 
• I'm grateful to be a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, because really...what else matters? Lots matters but...it's almost like, life is a bunch of assignments, but you don't even know what the point is or what the class is called without a gospel perspective. The church gives me the context for everything. It can count as a 'course outline.' That's not an adequate thing to say about the most important thing in life but it's the first thing that came to my mind, right at this moment...so let's go with it. 

Know Thyself...well, hmm.

Have you thought much about, you know. 'Knowing who you are.' That stuff. Eh? I mean I'm limited by only knowing what I think, but I imagine everyone's wondered about this...because I certainly do. I don't know the last time I tried to sort out my thoughts on the subject though, so...here goes:

1. I took 'Personality,' a Psychology course while I was at BYU-Idaho. And I loved it. I think it was mainly because of the professor--he was awesome. He'd spent some time living in the bush. Like, Africa bush. Seriously. And he'd talk about the American mindset kind of (it was three years ago so I'm probably skewing everything in my mind, blahhh). But it was interesting because I don't think I'd thought about it much before. But it was essentially, the difference between a collectivistic and an individualistic culture that we were discussing. And his point was everything in America is all about 'Feel good about yourself...you deserve it!...don't change, you're wonderful!...Know yourself!...' etc. At least, this is what I've taken away from said class. And I thought, "Lame!" It seemed so true to me. And how selfish do we sound?? Ridiculous. And embarrassing.

Later, I think he mentioned how when people ask him, you know, how he's doing, but digging for a deeper answer...he said he doesn't really want to know. Which is such a compelling and different thought, to me. I mean I think he also talked about he knew that he loved his children and his wife, but that he didn't want to bother with thinking about 'how he was doing' too much.

Again, love that! Just seems dandy to me. Love that idea. So there's that...

2. I love this one quote, given in a talk by Elder Wirthlin in Dec. 2000 called Lessons Learned in the Journey of Life. It actually has a quote within a quote, which is great :) "George Bernard Shaw said, 'Life isn’t about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.' Don’t worry about searching for who you are; focus your energies on creating the kind of person you want to be! You will discover that as you pursue that journey you will not only find yourself, but chances are you will be pleasantly surprised and proud of the person you find along the way." It just fits so nicely, to me. Just feels right, in my mind. 

3. Something I've noticed: I have my highs, and my lows. I had a fair amount of lows in teen years, just because I did. Most probably do, though it always seemed like others had some things more together than I. But still. I noticed when I'd get really low, I'd write (much like I'm currently doing...) and usually it would help me organize my thoughts and thus, make me feel better. Or, I'd pray, and I'd receive comfort. And that was perfect.

But when I've moved past those hard moments and looked back, you know what I realize about most of them? Maybe it was okay that I felt bad about some of them, because it could have inspired change. It's kind of going back to the 'American mindset' thing. It's all about being happy with who you are right now. In fact, that seems to be the point of most of what I've studied in Psychology, too. But what about this: what about if you are, in fact, being a total idiot? And you feel bad because you should? Because you're not going to correct anything, you're not going to change for the better in any way whatsoever, without that guilt...will you? I mean, is it all bad? It seems like there are two ways to handle guilt: decide the reason you're feeling guilty is unnecessary, or decide it is appropriate and correct the problem. What seems more worthwhile? 

In my mind, theoretically and all...it seems so much more worthwhile to use guilt as a motivator for change. I mean, when you're being reasonable. When you're feeling guilty about things that are stupid, just recognize they're stupid, right? But they aren't all stupid, is what I'm saying. 


So this makes up a lot of what my opinions are, and thus comments are, in, say, Relief Society. Because I do think it's true, women are oftentimes too hard on themselves. I certainly can relate-queen of worry over here. Ridiculous, really. However: if we're always making excuses, always rationalizing being lazy in this or that and in-between...I just kind of feel like that's not what God really wants of us, is it? Doesn't he want us to continuously be striving to be better? 

I bet most women are continuously striving to be better and making changes, and I'm just not and so feel (appropriately) guilty because I can recognize that this is a problem. But when I rationalize my own weaknesses in this or that I usually thus dismiss them as a problem (unintentionally, I think!), or distract away from  them and try not to think about them. (Ummm....it ain't gonna fix itself...) Meh. I don't know. 

So what's my dilemma, exactly? 

Wellll....I think I do recognize, yeah. I may be against the American mindset but I'm still American, and still live in an individualistic culture. I can strive to think of others/the 'whole,' as they do in a collectivistic culture where everyone's part of one big thing, they're all a group and everyone contributes and they thus think differently and whatnot...but I'm still living in our own lil apartment, and it's just our family. It's still going to be just Jori and me, most of the day long. (And a mini-man before too long.) So...I still do struggle with the questions my culture, this culture, seems to. And those things are:

• Who am I, exactly? 

Bah, it embarrasses and annoys me that this question even troubles me! However. When I come across people who do seem to have it all together...or at least, they just seem perfectly aware of who they are and content with it...I do have the thought "Man. I wish I was like that."

• How can I be happy? How can I be satisfied with the life I have, as I know I should? 

This, too, is frustrating to me that I even have trouble with this. But an unfortunate aspect of my personality: the grass is always greener on the other side. I have ALWAYS looked to different stages in life, or different people, and yearned for what it must be like in my silly fantasy mind. I mean not really really, I'm not like "Man I wish I was them..." or "Man I wish my life was like that (again [sometimes])." It's more just in twinges /feelings than full-out thoughts. But I dislike this struggle immensely, because 1. Duh, I must not be all that happy if I'm wondering how I can be happy; and 2. I KNOW this time of life is soooooooooooo important. This was actually the stage I looked forward to most, I think. Being a mama of young kiddos. And it's not just about me! I have a sweet little life to care for, to teach and love and nurture. And soon will have another. And how can I be giving them all I should if I'm preoccupied by my own issue, of not appreciating what I have and where I'm at in life? Eh?? Plus I feel terrible as far as like, not being appreciative of them. They are such a blessing, these little lives, and deserve to bestow all the happiness that they offer instead of possibly inadvertently being treated like a second choice sometimes, or something. You know? Does that make sense? Hm. 

So. I guess I'm just curious...where the truth lies, almost. Because I believe in living as the person you hope to be, and the rest falling into place, hypothetically..but I also feel dissatisfied even though I'm ridiculously, incredibly, tremendously blessed. So if for no other reason, how do I appreciate and love the life I have so that my children and husband get to have a pleasant wife and mother, without doing it by focusing on myself? Cause that too just doesn't seem to quite fit (solving the problem of being dissatisfied/not knowing who I am by spending more time on myself/'finding myself'). There's a scripture I think of here, too, in Matthew 10:39, "He that findeth his life shall lose it, but he that loseth his life for my sake shall find it." 

So my conclusion currently is...try to be more like Christ. Eh? So what would Christ do, to be better, if He were me? Because I'm already giving Jori most of my time...what could I do better? Hmmm. I've thought of like, filling up her days with more worthwhile activities, like crafts and little lessons to start teaching her and such, but whenever I try to plan those things I get overwhelmed since they seem expensive and intense (one search on pinterest and within three minutes I'm in over my head). Bahhh. 

Well. I guess I've laid out my current mental state effectively enough. :) Ha. How do other mothers of young kiddos do it? Eh?

-Ariel June

Tender mercies...and then some somewhat unpleasant news.

Yesterday was kind of an off day for Jori and I. You know how they go-one of us is grumpy (though which one starts it is a chicken-or-the-egg-first argument), so the other one gets grumpy and then it just keeps playing back and forth all day. It wasn't even really all day-she had a really long nap, so I had a nice reprieve then, it just seemed the worst in the afternoon.

So Sam took Jori with him in the backyard where he was barbequing chicken, and I had a chance to try to catch my breath.

And here I'd like to add a snippet from my childhood: my family sang a lot growing up. Not like a crazy amount, but we always sang at FHE and when we got older my parents would have more elaborate arrangements of things to sing...at least for the boys. (I got shafted-there's no room for a girl in barbershop quartets.) Anyway the point is my parents raised me to sing,  when I'm supposed to sing. So I always sang out in church, because that was the example they set. And with such music drifting around in our home, I came to memorize a lot of hymns that I still have memorized to this day. And the Lord really blesses me with this knowledge: often, when something is going on in my life, a hymn will pop into my head that is just perfect for the occasion. Even when I wasn't seeking it! This has been such a wonderful gift for me.

So that's what happened yesterday: a hymn popped into my head. But I'd never thought to apply the hymn I did, to the situation I did. So when I tell (or  remind) you the words to the first verse of this song, think of how frustrated and discouraged I was with my parenting, and feeling like I wasn't able to get through to Jori and calm her down. How exhausted I was from such a long day, and also how guilty I felt for knowing I played a big part in any negativity that day. And then, the words came to me and I began to sing:

Let us all press on in the work of the Lord,
That when life is o'er we may gain a reward.
In the fight for right let us yield a sword,
The mighty sword of truth.
Fear not, though the enemy deride,
Courage! For the Lord is on our side
We will heed not what the wicked may say
But the Lord, alone we will obey.

I'd always thought of that song for things like missionary work, service projects, standing up for the gospel in the face of evil. I'd never applied it to the work of a homemaker. But those words were for me yesterday! The sword of truth: truth, the knowledge that THIS is the Lord's work. Raising up a new generation of His children in love, and teaching them to love the Lord and follow Him. Even if I don't feel like I'm to that point at all yet. And fear not: discouragement will come. But the Lord is on our side. The Lord is on my side!!! I knew this of course, but singing it, reminding  myself of it, brought me to tears. It was such a comfort, to think Heavenly Father doesn't want to scold me, to frown down at me, to make me feel bad about my job as a parent. Of course we have to answer for the wrongs we do to our children, of course repentance is necessary, but He wants more than anything  for us to succeed. He isn't rooting  for our failure-He's doing everything we let Him to, to help us succeed. He is not smug when we're having a bad day-I think when we mess up, He is full of sorrow. Of sympathetic (or empathetic?) sorrow: He knows we're causing ourselves and our children unhappiness when we act selfishly, and He doesn't want either.

I don't know if this makes any sense, but I wanted to share it in case anyone else might need this reminder. Even if it's just me, at a later date. Sometimes the best way to motivate change is through chastising, but sometimes a gentler approach is needed and it was for me yesterday. And I got it. What a tender mercy.

Besides this...I haven't been sharing much about it, but our life is kind of crazy right now. A friend posted on her blog the other day the title "Up in the air" and said, first line "Our life is up in the air again right now." This pretty much sums things up for us again, too. We won't be staying in California after March, we now know, but we also won't be staying with this company. It's a long story...and I shouldn't share it until we've let Sam's boss know and why, but we just don't feel like the pros are outweighing the cons of the company. And we're not being high-maintenance, I swear! It's not enough financially to live on, otherwise we might reconsider. But for the amount of work Sam is doing and the outcomes and the pay...as I said, I should just leave it at that for now. But anyway, right now our plan is to stay here until March, since at the end of March is when we'll need to move out, and then we'll be moving into Sam's parent's basement for a while while we, you know, re-evaluate. Neither of us ever wanted to have to live with our parents, but sometimes you have to swallow your pride. You'd think I'd be used to the taste by now but it's still rotten.

Anyway. The funniest part about it, to me, is that we both felt so strongly that we were supposed to be down here in California, and now we don't know why. I have a few theories-a brother of mine pursued a career that after he was in it, discovered he hated it, and  when he lost his job it ended up being a blessing I think because that just sped up the pursuing-something-else process. I think it might be like that: things with the company are actually worse than they were in Utah down here in California, so maybe Sam needed to experience that to finally push him into leaving. And I bet this will end up being a blessing for us in the long run. It's just getting to that long run that isn't so clear.

So! Our life is up in the air again. Bah. Just please don't blame Sam-he's doing everything he can for our family, and sacrifices so much for our benefit every single day. Some people just have better luck than others-one of my brothers was lucky  enough to have a huge interest of his, also be a field that pays really well and there are a lot of jobs in even with only a bachelor's degree. We, however, have not been one of those families. But that's all right-I've never worried about Sam, because he's a hard worker and does everything one is supposed to do really to be able to provide: does a good job at work, acts selflessly, spends frugally, etc. I know we'll get it figured out, I just hope against hope Sam doesn't have to stay in jobs he hates for the rest of his life.

If you're still reading you get a gold star. :) I miss most everyone who would ever read this thing; it's difficult to be so far from so many people I love. But we're trying to just enjoy our time left in California for now, and consider our possibilities. Graduate school is almost definitely in our future, but we don't want to pursue it until we've made up our minds about a certain degree/career. So! that's it. Ta-ta all. Cross your fingers for us.

What does your 'true love' look like?

This won't be quite as detailed as I'd make it in a journal, but whatevs.

I wanted to talk about something that movies seem to revolve around, that tv shows seem to revolve around, that MANY many young female conversations revolve around. That life (almost) revolves around: love. And the pursuit of 'true love.'

True love, painted in movies and books and tv shows and minds, is usually really easy. Or on the other end, extremely hard. It doesn't seem to be in-between. It's about instant connections; it's about soul mates. It's about butterflies and being swept off one's feet, or being the strong protector (depending on your gender, unfortunately). It's about being perfectly complimentary. And it often involves a race-to-tell-them-I-love-them 'suspense' scene.

Oh boy!

But you know what? I'm going to say something that I think most young, single people do not want to hear: I think the vast majority of people are a lot more normal than they'd like to view themselves, and their love may not be as exciting as love seems to be from these sources.

No! Not that!

In a country where being 'unique' is absolutely essential...I think in this pursuit for uniqueness, a lot of people are a lot more similar than they'd like to see. It's easy to dismiss others as all the same-but YOU are different. YOU have depth, YOU have other interests. We've gone over this in my Social Psychology class, and it just sang to me as truth: people usually view themselves as unique, but do not view others as such.

I think that's why we cling to little things that we see as 'different from others' in ourselves: because that makes us feel...special, kind of. Important. Needed. Like we fill a space that no one else could.

It is kind of a romantic idea, but you know what? This is something I'm still learning in life, but work with me here: it's okay to be normal. Seriously. It's okay to be one of many others. What if the many others are working towards something absolutely wonderful? Isn't it worth contributing? It's really getting down to the difference between individualistic and collectivistic cultures, and seeing some of the beauty in collectivistic cultures.

I guess this is kind of two separate streams of thoughts combined, but here's my point: because of this uniqueness, people want someone who's equally 'unique,' who would fit them like no one else would and compliment their every aspect. But really...this seems silly.

I think now, after being married for...well I'm going to say a 'while' (but you can interpret 2 5/6 years however you like), that's not really what it's about. Love is not a tremendous, extraordinary connection. Love is more a choice. It's the end result of a willingness to think of yourself and your own needs as 2nd priority over someone else's. And when children come, your own needs as 3rd priority. Which can be crazy hard when American culture has taught you life is about fulfilling yourself, and everything you do should be working toward that. But who does that put at the top of the list? ...you...yeah.

Butterflies are fun, certainly. But they don't last forever. And they needn't, really. There's something that's incredibly...I want to say fulfilling but this doesn't capture it enough. Deeper, much deeper. Greater. Stronger, more lasting, more powerful. About a lasting relationship between two 'normal' people.

The things that do kind of fall into the category of "soul mate" with Sam are pretty great, certainly. They make things easier I think. But they don't matter nearly as much as how hard we're trying to be good spouses for one another.

Example: We both enjoy beauty found in nature. We both like eating at fun restaurants. The dream house for both of us is not necessarily a huge house, but with some land and kind of in the country but located not too far from a fair-sized city. And we both sometimes feel socially inadequate-we call some people that intimidate us 'coolios', the people that are good at staying in sync with the latest trends and are really outgoing.

But on a daily basis, beauty in nature doesn't come up very much, really. But you know what does? Dirty dishes. We eat every day (no way!), and those dirty dishes pile up. And what makes a bigger difference in our relationship is not really the things that we have in common, but the things we're willing to do just because we love one another. So Sam or I will do the dishes, because both of us hate doing the dishes. So then the other person doesn't have to. Or Sam will have dinner waiting for me when I get home from class, because he knows I'll be hungry. Or yesterday, after I'd gone in to check on Jori when she just wasn't falling asleep for a nap and I was feeling sad listening to her cry, Sam had run downstairs and grabbed me a couple E.L. Fudge cookies because he knew those would be a nice little surprise for a sweets-lover like myself.

It's not the 'unique, this-is-who-I-am-and-it-will-never-change' things about Sam that make it true love. It's the choices we make to act. Deciding whether 'who he is is a giving, selfless person or not' is a waste of time. 'Who we are,' I still believe, is determined by what we do-what we devote our time to. And we have control over that. So examining how well the puzzle pieces of our souls fit together is a waste of time-Sam is my soul mate because I chose him, period, and it is true love when he chooses to act (on love he feels for me) selflessly.

So what does my true love look like? Mainly that: washed dishes. Dinner on the table. Occasional flowers are a fun surprise that I appreciate, but even better is this willingness to watch a redbox movie with me because I love movies. For Sam, it's when I choose to spend time on my appearance for him. When I've straightened up the living room, because he can't relax when things are crazy messy. Willingness to listen to whatever the other one wants to say, and paying attention. Asking questions. Checking up on the other during the day, just to see how they're doing. Reading scriptures together at breakfast.  Praying as a family in Jori's room every night. For me, it's encouraging comments from Sam about whatever I'm tackling-homework, parenting etc. Even if I need to let him know I need the encouraging comments, even if I need to let him know what to say-even those times, because he chooses to act, even if it's just to recite back to me something I've asked him to say, it's true love. He doesn't have to be a psychic mind-reader to be my soul mate. Saying we're sorry, because we both screw up a lot. Forgiving each other for said screw ups. Choosing not to ever talk badly about the other person with others, even when we're really annoyed with each other. Changing Jori's poopy diapers, or taking her into another room (or outside) when she's having a hissy fit. Ending every phone call with "Love you," even if it was only a 20 second phone call. Which they frequently are, actually. Neither of us are great phone talkers.

This leads me to want to write a post on what I do think is absolutely necessary to look for in the search for a spouse, but for now I'll end this one with the question: what does your 'true love' look like?

What bridges have you burned?

I've been thinking lately about things I wish I had done differently. Not like huge, crazy things...just things that are like 'Dang. That's a shame.'

I'll tell you about one: after I got my heart broken in 2008, I was a serious wreck for a long time. Actually looking back I wouldn't have done anything differently in that time-I got two part-time jobs that kept me plenty busy; I was involved in my church calling; and I met a different guy who became a real confidant, a real close friend. But all of this was just going through the motions-I just could not get over this other guy. I think partly this was because three weeks after he ended things with me he started dating someone else, a friend of his who had the qualities that I had lacked. That sort of thing just kind of stings, ya know? Just reminds you that much more what your weaknesses are.

Anyway then I moved back to Rexburg, and seriously I think where I lived was a god-send. I had 14 roommates. 14! I lived in a house with all those other girls, and even in my bedroom there were three others. And you know what? There was no drama! I swear, none of them at all were petty or competitive, like girls are stereotyped to be. They were crazy and fun and different and all, so complimentary to one another. All so lovely, so wonderful in different ways. And they welcomed me in with open arms, totally willing to accept my awkward and shy personality. I still didn't feel ready for a lot of it, but because of them and their adventures I had some serious fun when I returned to Rexburg, even if I didn't know how to allow it or resisted going along. Even with my self-destructive tendency to avoid social outings/gatherings, since...I don't know exactly. I think I fear people will be bored with me. But they didn't care! They didn't judge like I fear being judged by people who...I don't know are really outgoing or dress well or, just any of the things that intimidate me.

But now I regret, in the fall I had next  to no contact with any of them. Because of that unfortunate aspect of my personality-just thinking I'm not interesting enough for certain crowds or certain people, so even if I care about them not really keeping up contact. And then I got married, and then I wanted to downsize my facebook so deleted half of them as facebook friends because I thought they'd think it was creepy that I looked on their profile pages so frequently to see all the happenings of their lives without actually talking with them. I mean the idea is creepy, isn't it? But I've regretted that-even tried to re-add them and they didn't accept. But I wish I'd kept better contact with these girls, particularly the ones I shared a room with, because they were seriously angels. I wish I could express this to them, how much good they did in my life.

But perhaps even more, even more than the fact that I burned that bridge, I regret that it's only so evident to me because they didn't accept my friend requests. I wish that weren't necessary!

It just makes me that much more grateful for all the lovely people that I consider to be friends, even though I'm terrible at being a friend really. I lose contact so easily because....well frankly, I think it's cause I'm just shy. And it's easier, requires less energy, to see things just on the internet than to maintain actual relationships. Even though I care about a lot of people that I haven't talked to in ages. Kind of lame, don't you think? I mean that's not what I consciously think when I check people's blogs and facebook pages and what-have-you, but I think that's what's behind it.

I don't write this to make people uncomfortable-oops, sorry if I did. Or to make anyone feel sorry for me! How silly. I'm not like depressed right now, don't worry, I'm fine. I'm just being thoughtful, reflecting, and wondering-what bridges have you burned? Whether actively or passively?

"Multiply and Replenish the Earth..." oi. A parenting...rant? /Brainstorm

You know, this is kind of embarrassing to admit. But I write it hoping it'll clear up some troubling thoughts in my head, to write them out.
For as long as I can remember, I've wanted a large family. I come from a family of six, so that's probably why whenever I pictured my own family someday growing up I pictured plenty of kids. But now that I have one, I just don't know if that's going to happen. And I feel really conflicted about it.
Maybe it's because my mom had three kids under the age of two at one point, and four under the age of four. I've always had tremendous respect for my mom for doing that, and tremendous respect for other mothers who somehow manage with a whole ton of tiny kiddos running around their place. And I always thought "That's going to be me." I always aspired to be one of those ladies-I thought they were so impressive.
It's funny, because I don't think (or if I do, I'm not aware of it) any less of women who have kids really far spaced out apart, or choose to keep their family smaller. But I think without meaning to, I've always kind of pictured the women who do have a ton/have kids real close together, as super incredible. Like only the strongest can do that, kind of?
I guess what it gets down to is a comparing thing. Because who doesn't want to be the 'best of the best,' in general? Everyone would like to be, of course they would. And even though having a ton of kids doesn't actually make you the best of the best, as far as parents go, it kind of seems like those ones must be to even be able to take care of and love that many kids without going nuts.
But I don't know if I can have a whole bushel of kids, after all.
I love my daughter with my whole heart. But I do not consider her to be an 'easy' baby. That's not really her fault-that's kind of my point: parenting is really hard, in my opinion. I'm not good at letting things roll off my back, I'm not good at not getting frustrated when Jori won't stop whining or throwing tantrums and I don't know why. I'm not even good at keeping her on her back long enough to put on a clean diaper. I'm not good at being confident that mommy knows best, because I don't think I do know best a lot of the time so I end up giving her mixed messages about things (like waking up in the night) and I make things worse that way.
Another thing: I am not one of those 'mommy does all childcare' moms. Part of that you can attribute to just having a good spouse, who doesn't have ridiculous ideas about 'the woman does all work in a home, because the man provides for her.' But part of that is because I demand the assistance, because I need it: I can't do it by myself.
Maybe that doesn't make sense, so let me give you a Sunday example: women who hold their babies the entire time in church. Women who are the only ones that take the baby out, when the baby is disrupting everybody. Women who manage to exercise, make yummy, nutritious home-cooked meals at least once a day, AND who do their hair and makeup beautifully all while taking care of the children. Women who feed their children, keeping the children calm, and also feed themselves without any difficulty.
Um? That's not me. yeesh.
Maybe I'm getting at two different points: my point is, I don't know how to think about only having two or  three kids and not be...disappointed about it, almost. Because I won't be living up to the expectations of a younger Ariel. And partly because I do still want a large family, but partly...I just may not have the potential it seems so many other women reach, even in me.
I just don't know how they do it. I don't really know how to do anything but take care of my baby, when in charge of the baby. And I don't even know what to do with her for half the day-what do the good parents do?
I've had different friends say that as soon as they gave birth, they honestly couldn't wait to get pregnant again. Partly so they could go through the pregnancy process all over again, but mainly just because they were so happy at having an addition they couldn't wait to have another one. And I don't know how to not feel guilty thinking about that, because Jori's almost one, and I still have no idea if I'm ready to have another one yet. I almost feel like the clock is ticking so I need to get a move on, that that's what good LDS parents do is to have another one close in age...but I can honestly say that if I had gotten pregnant when Jori was still really tiny, I would have been inconsolable for a good while.
I don't know why I'm talking about this-it's just been on my mind a ton lately. I don't know how many kids I'm going to have, and I haven't even made up my mind about how many I want to have. But I wish I felt like that was ok. Or really, I wish I knew what the perfect number of children for my family would be, that would be Sam and I reaching our best parenting potential but not over-doing it (because I do think if I had a whole whole ton of kids, I would be a worse off parent for it. Not that others are). And I wish I was better at parenting, and loving every day I get to be one. And I can't help but wish I for sure wanted to be pregnant again soon. Because I feel like I should feel that way. Even though I know that that's nonsense. Bah. um...that's all. Leave me your thoughts if you managed to read this whole thing.

Holy bit off more than I can chew...

IIII....feel stressed. Like, crazy stressed. I've started my two classes for the term, my first time being a 'full-time' student since Jori was born, and it's madness. It'd be hard enough just with like the classes I had last semester, but on top of that the classes I have this term are exceptionally difficult. They're a lot of writing, like technical writing, and both are a LOT of group work. Pain in my fanny, bah. I just discovered: I must be awful with girls, because I almost never like working with girls. In groups in school or in an actual work environment. Don't know what that's about.

Anyway if that weren't enough, I'm trying to find an internship for Summer Term now (since Spring term is too late now) but it has to work around Sam's. And I'm also supposed to take the internship class summer term, and possibly the Religions Around the World class. Which seems like it'll be a fun class, but may be more than I can handle all together. But if I don't, then Sam is limited in his job searching to Utah Valley. Oi.

We also have a family reunion at the end of June, a trek, to prepare for, that I may be a single parent at (since Sam's Korean students are arriving at the same time). And I have my calling, Relief Society teacher. I have a lesson to give this Sunday for that. And don't forget about my most important responsibility: Jori!!

I had no idea it'd be so hard to be away from her so much. It's funny, really. I guess I've just gotten used to the way things have been. Spring Term she gets to be with Sam lots, so she's fine, but I'm struggling with it. I feel bad.

Why am I saying all this? I guess I'm immature and like getting sympathy when I'm stressed out. So there you have it: I'm stressed out!

Chatty chatty chat face

I feel like typing something, since it seems plenty has happened since I last made an entry. But this won't have any pictures...ok ok, I'll post two videos at the end. How bout that?

*Dan, Britany and Evie came and stayed for a week at the end of March, their last day being the first day of General Conference. It was great to have them here, and to get to know Evie Lou a little better. She's such a sweet little girl. One of the days, it was really funny though: she crawled up to Jori real fast, and without hesitating just like clawed her face. Jori didn't even realize what just happened so I guess she as no worse for wear. Silly girls!

*Tomorrow, April 11th, is the last day of classes for BYU. Then there are two 'Reading days' and then finals begin Saturday. I'll have two finals, and I may be able to take both of them Saturday so may do that to get them over with. We'll see.

*BECAUSE tomorrow is the last day of classes, I had this paper that I'd been putting off all semester due that I finally had to buckle down and do. Want to know the ironic part? I chose to write about ADHD, which I was diagnosed with in May 2009 but only tried medication for it the following summer and then kinda forgot about it. But I couldn't focus...to write a paper on ADHD! Ha. That tickles me. (If you're curious, I'm Primarily Inattentive type, which means I don't really have the hyperactivity problems. Just the paying attention ones.)

*Sam had some madness with the Linguistics department, and it was looking like he'd have to graduate in December instead of August, but we think we got it straightened out. It's a long story so I'll leave it at that.

*I really want to go see Hunger Games. We'll be going either this weekend or the next, finally. Yay!

*I taught in Relief Society again and kicked butt...just kidding. I felt so un-prepared this time: when I tried to prepare it was just a major failure, I could not think of questions to encourage discussion the way I usually can. Fortunately I have a great ward and the sisters got the discussion going on their own, just with a little prodding from me.

*We got Jori a new carseat, because she still hates being in her carseat most of the time. She is getting better though, and I think this one helped a lot. It's a convertible carseat; we got her the Britax Marathon 70. It's huge, but more upright than her last which she likes. A success, I think. Just not when she's blinded by the sun, yeesh.

*I'm trying to figure out what I need to do for an internship and am totally stuck. I can't make up my mind: do I try to find one Spring Term, which is like two weeks away? Or for Summer, and try to balance with Sam's Korean-teaching? Oi vay.

*Jori's as cute as ever. She's experimented with different crawling methods, and switches off a lot. But she just started crawling the 'traditional' way a bit this past weekend. She also cut her first tooth, a beauty on the bottom, and is pulling herself up on things and in the tub (which means mommy and daddy have to be extra attentive during bath time). Oh! And her cousin Miriam (6 weeks older) does this head-dance thing? Jori started doing something, too. Only Miriam's is fluid, more...well yeah, like a dance move-Jori's is more twitchy. But sometimes you can make her do it if you shake your head at her. We had a lot of fun grocery shopping yesterday, she and I, doing it back and forth.

And without further ado! Promised videos.

Soccer babies:

Jori pulling herself up:

Head-wiggle/twitch...till she spotted me:

Facebook withdrawals

For those of you that noticed...yeah right, like anyone noticed. But I deleted my facebook account last week. I don't remember what day or anything, but man! It's been difficult! That's why I deleted it: I thought I was on there too much. Sam joined my name with his so technically we're 'sharing' his, but I asked him to change the password to something I don't know so I can't be using it all day. I just check it out with him in the evenings for a little while.

As far as increased productivity goes, so far there's been little success (for example, I should be studying right now). But! It's only the beginning, right? Gotta start somewhere.

It's been difficult though! Old habits die hard. I'm still wasting time online, but when I would have typed in facebook into the domain spot, instead I type blogger or youtube or ksl. So I do still need to work on just wasting time less online altogether.

Still, I'm proud I've made it this far. Next goal is to un-attach the tv, but that's difficult because that's the same way we get internet and internet is kind of a necessity for school right now. If we can figure out a way for our neighbors to share it with us though, then I'll be getting rid of tv next. Phew!

In other news, none of my comments are showing up that I make on others (or even my own!) blog. Any ideas as to why that might be?