It feels like no matter what I plan for our meals, everything I put in my mouth is unhealthy and bad for me.
Can't eat raw veggies if I have dressing with them.
Can't eat cake, because........well, it's cake.
Can't eat a casserole because it has potatoes and/cheese in it.
Can't eat that soup because it has meat. Or butter. Or both.
Nope, no rice for it, carbs are bad.
Fruit is sugar. Sugar bad.
So raw, plain vegetables it is. Meaning I'm going to be hungry all the damn time.
I fucking hate this.
Saturday, May 20, 2017
Monday, August 31, 2015
Out With A . . . . . . . Bang?
It's been a very, very long time since I posted (And FYI, it's extremely unlikely I will ever post another post again. I
mean come on, it's been over a year since my last one. So don't get
your hopes up). And for various reasons. One of them being that, as a stay-at-home mom, I find my day-to-day life to be uninteresting and thus difficult to find something to write about. Another reason is that I don't write as a catharsis, or because I just have to. I write because I like to pretend that people out there actually care to hear what I have to say. Though I seriously question that some days, I know, deep down, that YOU know that I'm always right. You just don't want to admit it.
Another reason for not writing is that I've found as my daughter gets older, I have less and less time to spend on writing. It's not important for me, so it got dropped.
The biggest reason, however, is that for the last few years, I have been dealing with a very hard (VERY HARD), very emotional (VERY emotional), and drastically life-altering change, which I did not feel capable of sharing here. I've been hiding this change from the majority of people I know for the last almost 3 years, though I've certainly dropped lots of what I felt were very obvious hints everywhere, especially on Facebook. But I've never come right out and said it, because I was afraid of the fall-out and the judgement. I honestly was hoping to never have to say anything & that people would just figure it out, but I've now come to the decision that I do need to. Even if it's only because I need to know that I am living my "authentic life" (not my favorite phrase, but it fits here). My friends are pretty smart, so I'm guessing that this won't come as a surprise to any of them, but I need to do this for me. So, the big reveal (oh man, deep breath, you can do this. STOP SHAKING, HANDS!):
I've left the LDS church.
Yep, that's right. I'm no longer Mormon. I do not believe it to be the "only true church". For my husbands sake, who is still a believing member, I haven't removed my name from the records, but I haven't attended in years (not since my daughter was about 2 and a half, and I took my garments off just before her 2nd birthday) and haven't believed in even longer. I do not consider myself a member even though I know that I officially remain one. But why did I wait so long to say something? What am I afraid of? Well, judgement, to be frank. Some members don't handle it well when someone they know leaves the church. I have heard some horrible stories, first hand, of what has happened to people for leaving: divorce, being disowned by parents and siblings, ostracization by friends and neighbors of them and sometimes of their kids, insults, people no longer trusting them to be good people, accusations, dismissal, the list goes on and on. Sometimes Mormons can be horrible to those who don't agree with their beliefs. For a long time I was willing to pretend that nothing had actually changed because I didn't want to be thought less of. But now, I'm ready to move on. I'm no longer afraid of the judgement of people whose opinion of me doesn't actually matter. People can think what they want, but one thing I have learned in this journey is that MY opinion of myself is what is most important. I can honestly say that I look in the mirror everyday and I am proud of who I am. And that's what matters.
In my explanation for why, I'm going to be borrowing heavily from this article written by Brittney because she writes what I felt and feel much, much better than I can (and more concisely. I tend to vomit words. I'm sure you readers haven't noticed that, though). Anything in quotes and italicized comes directly from that article.
I had originally written out a very, very long post here detailing my trip down the road that led me out of the church. But I deleted it. I feel like writing all that was an attempt to justify my decision to leave, not explain it. And I don't need to justify it. But basically, it started because I felt completely and utterly unhappy with my life in the church. I felt stagnant. I hated feeling this way, and I completely blamed myself.
"I have always been the kind of person who wanted to do the Right thing. It didn’t matter to me if the Right thing was hard, or unpopular, because Right was Right, and I wanted to do the Right thing. In every aspect of my life I tried to do the Right thing, but especially when it came to my Faith."
I can't say I was never inactive, because for a couple of years, due to severe depression and an almost debilitating fear of people and crowds, I technically was since my attendance was so sporadic. But even though I was not attending my meetings all the time, I was still faithful. Every Sunday, I read Ensign and General Conference articles, or church books. I made sure to listen to "appropriate" Sunday music and do other Sunday "appropriate" things to keep the day holy as best I could. I was still miserable, but I did my best until I was able to go back to church. And once I was able to, I was happy for a long time. I believe that I was right where I needed to be. I was faithful and living my life the way I was "supposed" to. Yet even so, I never had what Brittney calls my "Joseph Smith Moment". Not even when I was very first investigating the church. While I do recall feeling like I knew the church to be true, I never felt that way about Joseph Smith, or any of the men who claimed to be prophets and apostles of the church. And every time I specifically prayed about it, to receive that knowledge, I got a very very horrible feeling in my heart and my brain would just shut down. I would just turn away from that feeling and tell myself, "Well, if the Book of Mormon is true (which I felt I had received confirmation of), than Joseph Smith must obviously be a prophet, as well as those after him. Because if he's not, then neither is the Book of Mormon, and neither are they. And I have a testimony about the Book of Mormon, so I must have one that he's a prophet." Oh, cognitive dissonance, what a beast you are. And then, through many twists and turns and discoveries and realizations, I ended up doubting everything. And I really really didn't want to. But there it was, this huge question mark in my head and in my heart. So, in the words of Brittney again:
"I did everything I was told to do…Read my scriptures…Go to all my meetings…And the Temple…And all the extras . . . . , and of course I prayed. I prayed so much and so fervently that by the time I was done, I was usually a quivering pile of jelly on my bed. I asked the Lord, I pleaded, I implored, but always with the acceptance that His will be done, and if I didn’t receive my answer, then I assumed that meant the answer was to try harder…and so I did."
"I never cried so much, lost so much sleep, spent more time on my knees, . . . . and in communication with God than I have during these days. I read, pondered, searched, read more, pondered more, prayed, fasted, read, pondered, prayed, pleaded, supplicated, cried, searched, read, pondered, probed, until I felt as though my head and heart were going to explode."
"Now, looking back, I realize that I was approaching this whole journey with the baseline belief that the church was true, and that I only needed to have that belief confirmed to me. Just like a bad scientist, I began my experiment with the results already in mind, and yet even though I already knew what I wanted to be true, I could never get to a point where I felt like the evidence confirmed the hypothesis…I can’t even describe how disheartening and frustrating this wa[s] for me. I blamed myself of course, I figured that it was because something was broken in me, or that God was testing me, or that I wasn’t worthy of the answers I was seeking."
And one day, when I was utterly exhausted from the attempt to regain my testimony, I mentally stepped back from everything and realized, I didn't want to get it back. I had been so very very unhappy in the church for a long time, and I had blamed myself for that. But when I mentally took the church out of my life, the relief was immediate and enormous. The pressure to be someone that I was not, that I no longer was and hadn't been for years, was gone. I felt totally free. And that realization made me start to think. But I still didn't want to give up, not yet. I was still afraid of being wrong. Because if I was, the Mormon God demands a lot of penance for disbelief (depending on who you ask, though there is always some form).
So I attempted the change the way I looked at the church. I tried to approach it as I had as a 15 year old teenager, like I had never heard of it before. I asked for the truth. Was the church true? Was Joseph Smith a prophet? I re-read the pamphlets I had received as an investigator, read all the passages in the Book of Mormon and Bible that had previously been faith-affirming for me, cried and prayed, cried and prayed, and then cried and prayed some more. And the answer I got, over and over and over again, is that I needed to do what was going to make me happiest. So I asked what that was, and I got no answer. None at all. I had to figure that out on my own. And so I thought about it. Read things. Listened to things. Paid attention (finally) to what I was actually feeling, instead of looking for what I was supposed to be feeling. And I soon realized that anything I read or listened to or thought about that had to do with the church and remaining a faithful member filled me with fear, sadness, and yes, sometimes anger. Anything that had to do with moving on made me feel happy, confident, and like I was facing forward instead of looking back. And so, eventually, I did. It was a very gradual, yet at the same time very sudden, change for me. But I have never ever felt so much joy, or felt so much freedom within my life, as I now feel. I am finally allowed to be my own person, whatever that may mean, without fear of miss-stepping or displeasing some constantly displeased higher authority.
Am I angry with the church? Absolutely not. The last ward I attended regularly (the one I would currently be in if I was still going) was amazing to me. One of the least judgmental ones I have ever attended. I have had numerous amazing and wonderful and uplifting experiences within the church. I am grateful that I was a member for a time. The church helped me with a very difficult time in my life, one that I'm fairly certain I would not have survived if I had not been a member. Being a member of the church brought me to my wonderful and amazing husband (who has been nothing but supportive of me during this time), which also means I got my wonderful and amazing daughter who I can not live without. And these experiences made it very difficult for me to leave. Yet it had become like a item of clothing I had grown out of, that I was uncomfortable in, and no amount of altering was going to make it fit again. There are many good people in the church, and there are many bad people in the church. You will find this in any organization that you come across. People are people, and everyone is good in some capacity, and everyone is bad in another. The world is not black and white, no matter how desperately some want it to be. As Brittney says, and which I completely agree with:
"I know that there are people out there of other faiths and people of no faith who are just as good, and kind, and Christ like as the good and kind and Christ like members I have met within the church. I believe that the concepts of Goodness and Kindness are not exclusive to any one religion or denomination, they are in all of us, and they are a choice that we make every minute of every day. I believe what Christ said when He warned us against letting our pride lead us to feelings of superiority over any other man, denomination, or creed. I believe what Joseph Smith said when he said that we should allow each man to worship in the fashion that resonated within his own conscious. I believe people are good, but that they don’t always act good, and I believe that deep down, we are all just striving to find purpose and meaning in this life, because none of us really knows what is coming next. We are all just trying to make sense of it all, and if the Church is where you find your sense, then I fully support and endorse you in staying and in being the best dang Mormon the world has ever seen."
While I currently can not imagine any situation that would bring me back to full belief in the church after all the things I have learned and discovered, I will not discount that event happening. Because for 15 years, I believed that I would never, ever leave the church. I have certainly learned that "never say never" is one of the truest phrases I have ever heard. And I hope that those believing members will welcome me back with open arms. Just as I will be there with open arms for anyone who has their own faith crisis. I will help you pick through the mess and the emotions and the pain, and whether you decide to stay or leave, I will rejoice with you in whatever you realize makes you happy.
Now, if you choose to comment, whether here, on Facebook, or in real life, be courteous and respectful. Treat me (and everyone else) the way you would want to be treated if YOU were the one writing this post. Mean comments will be deleted here, and ignored elsewhere.
Another reason for not writing is that I've found as my daughter gets older, I have less and less time to spend on writing. It's not important for me, so it got dropped.
The biggest reason, however, is that for the last few years, I have been dealing with a very hard (VERY HARD), very emotional (VERY emotional), and drastically life-altering change, which I did not feel capable of sharing here. I've been hiding this change from the majority of people I know for the last almost 3 years, though I've certainly dropped lots of what I felt were very obvious hints everywhere, especially on Facebook. But I've never come right out and said it, because I was afraid of the fall-out and the judgement. I honestly was hoping to never have to say anything & that people would just figure it out, but I've now come to the decision that I do need to. Even if it's only because I need to know that I am living my "authentic life" (not my favorite phrase, but it fits here). My friends are pretty smart, so I'm guessing that this won't come as a surprise to any of them, but I need to do this for me. So, the big reveal (oh man, deep breath, you can do this. STOP SHAKING, HANDS!):
I've left the LDS church.
Yep, that's right. I'm no longer Mormon. I do not believe it to be the "only true church". For my husbands sake, who is still a believing member, I haven't removed my name from the records, but I haven't attended in years (not since my daughter was about 2 and a half, and I took my garments off just before her 2nd birthday) and haven't believed in even longer. I do not consider myself a member even though I know that I officially remain one. But why did I wait so long to say something? What am I afraid of? Well, judgement, to be frank. Some members don't handle it well when someone they know leaves the church. I have heard some horrible stories, first hand, of what has happened to people for leaving: divorce, being disowned by parents and siblings, ostracization by friends and neighbors of them and sometimes of their kids, insults, people no longer trusting them to be good people, accusations, dismissal, the list goes on and on. Sometimes Mormons can be horrible to those who don't agree with their beliefs. For a long time I was willing to pretend that nothing had actually changed because I didn't want to be thought less of. But now, I'm ready to move on. I'm no longer afraid of the judgement of people whose opinion of me doesn't actually matter. People can think what they want, but one thing I have learned in this journey is that MY opinion of myself is what is most important. I can honestly say that I look in the mirror everyday and I am proud of who I am. And that's what matters.
In my explanation for why, I'm going to be borrowing heavily from this article written by Brittney because she writes what I felt and feel much, much better than I can (and more concisely. I tend to vomit words. I'm sure you readers haven't noticed that, though). Anything in quotes and italicized comes directly from that article.
I had originally written out a very, very long post here detailing my trip down the road that led me out of the church. But I deleted it. I feel like writing all that was an attempt to justify my decision to leave, not explain it. And I don't need to justify it. But basically, it started because I felt completely and utterly unhappy with my life in the church. I felt stagnant. I hated feeling this way, and I completely blamed myself.
"I have always been the kind of person who wanted to do the Right thing. It didn’t matter to me if the Right thing was hard, or unpopular, because Right was Right, and I wanted to do the Right thing. In every aspect of my life I tried to do the Right thing, but especially when it came to my Faith."
I can't say I was never inactive, because for a couple of years, due to severe depression and an almost debilitating fear of people and crowds, I technically was since my attendance was so sporadic. But even though I was not attending my meetings all the time, I was still faithful. Every Sunday, I read Ensign and General Conference articles, or church books. I made sure to listen to "appropriate" Sunday music and do other Sunday "appropriate" things to keep the day holy as best I could. I was still miserable, but I did my best until I was able to go back to church. And once I was able to, I was happy for a long time. I believe that I was right where I needed to be. I was faithful and living my life the way I was "supposed" to. Yet even so, I never had what Brittney calls my "Joseph Smith Moment". Not even when I was very first investigating the church. While I do recall feeling like I knew the church to be true, I never felt that way about Joseph Smith, or any of the men who claimed to be prophets and apostles of the church. And every time I specifically prayed about it, to receive that knowledge, I got a very very horrible feeling in my heart and my brain would just shut down. I would just turn away from that feeling and tell myself, "Well, if the Book of Mormon is true (which I felt I had received confirmation of), than Joseph Smith must obviously be a prophet, as well as those after him. Because if he's not, then neither is the Book of Mormon, and neither are they. And I have a testimony about the Book of Mormon, so I must have one that he's a prophet." Oh, cognitive dissonance, what a beast you are. And then, through many twists and turns and discoveries and realizations, I ended up doubting everything. And I really really didn't want to. But there it was, this huge question mark in my head and in my heart. So, in the words of Brittney again:
"I did everything I was told to do…Read my scriptures…Go to all my meetings…And the Temple…And all the extras . . . . , and of course I prayed. I prayed so much and so fervently that by the time I was done, I was usually a quivering pile of jelly on my bed. I asked the Lord, I pleaded, I implored, but always with the acceptance that His will be done, and if I didn’t receive my answer, then I assumed that meant the answer was to try harder…and so I did."
"I never cried so much, lost so much sleep, spent more time on my knees, . . . . and in communication with God than I have during these days. I read, pondered, searched, read more, pondered more, prayed, fasted, read, pondered, prayed, pleaded, supplicated, cried, searched, read, pondered, probed, until I felt as though my head and heart were going to explode."
"Now, looking back, I realize that I was approaching this whole journey with the baseline belief that the church was true, and that I only needed to have that belief confirmed to me. Just like a bad scientist, I began my experiment with the results already in mind, and yet even though I already knew what I wanted to be true, I could never get to a point where I felt like the evidence confirmed the hypothesis…I can’t even describe how disheartening and frustrating this wa[s] for me. I blamed myself of course, I figured that it was because something was broken in me, or that God was testing me, or that I wasn’t worthy of the answers I was seeking."
And one day, when I was utterly exhausted from the attempt to regain my testimony, I mentally stepped back from everything and realized, I didn't want to get it back. I had been so very very unhappy in the church for a long time, and I had blamed myself for that. But when I mentally took the church out of my life, the relief was immediate and enormous. The pressure to be someone that I was not, that I no longer was and hadn't been for years, was gone. I felt totally free. And that realization made me start to think. But I still didn't want to give up, not yet. I was still afraid of being wrong. Because if I was, the Mormon God demands a lot of penance for disbelief (depending on who you ask, though there is always some form).
So I attempted the change the way I looked at the church. I tried to approach it as I had as a 15 year old teenager, like I had never heard of it before. I asked for the truth. Was the church true? Was Joseph Smith a prophet? I re-read the pamphlets I had received as an investigator, read all the passages in the Book of Mormon and Bible that had previously been faith-affirming for me, cried and prayed, cried and prayed, and then cried and prayed some more. And the answer I got, over and over and over again, is that I needed to do what was going to make me happiest. So I asked what that was, and I got no answer. None at all. I had to figure that out on my own. And so I thought about it. Read things. Listened to things. Paid attention (finally) to what I was actually feeling, instead of looking for what I was supposed to be feeling. And I soon realized that anything I read or listened to or thought about that had to do with the church and remaining a faithful member filled me with fear, sadness, and yes, sometimes anger. Anything that had to do with moving on made me feel happy, confident, and like I was facing forward instead of looking back. And so, eventually, I did. It was a very gradual, yet at the same time very sudden, change for me. But I have never ever felt so much joy, or felt so much freedom within my life, as I now feel. I am finally allowed to be my own person, whatever that may mean, without fear of miss-stepping or displeasing some constantly displeased higher authority.
Am I angry with the church? Absolutely not. The last ward I attended regularly (the one I would currently be in if I was still going) was amazing to me. One of the least judgmental ones I have ever attended. I have had numerous amazing and wonderful and uplifting experiences within the church. I am grateful that I was a member for a time. The church helped me with a very difficult time in my life, one that I'm fairly certain I would not have survived if I had not been a member. Being a member of the church brought me to my wonderful and amazing husband (who has been nothing but supportive of me during this time), which also means I got my wonderful and amazing daughter who I can not live without. And these experiences made it very difficult for me to leave. Yet it had become like a item of clothing I had grown out of, that I was uncomfortable in, and no amount of altering was going to make it fit again. There are many good people in the church, and there are many bad people in the church. You will find this in any organization that you come across. People are people, and everyone is good in some capacity, and everyone is bad in another. The world is not black and white, no matter how desperately some want it to be. As Brittney says, and which I completely agree with:
"I know that there are people out there of other faiths and people of no faith who are just as good, and kind, and Christ like as the good and kind and Christ like members I have met within the church. I believe that the concepts of Goodness and Kindness are not exclusive to any one religion or denomination, they are in all of us, and they are a choice that we make every minute of every day. I believe what Christ said when He warned us against letting our pride lead us to feelings of superiority over any other man, denomination, or creed. I believe what Joseph Smith said when he said that we should allow each man to worship in the fashion that resonated within his own conscious. I believe people are good, but that they don’t always act good, and I believe that deep down, we are all just striving to find purpose and meaning in this life, because none of us really knows what is coming next. We are all just trying to make sense of it all, and if the Church is where you find your sense, then I fully support and endorse you in staying and in being the best dang Mormon the world has ever seen."
While I currently can not imagine any situation that would bring me back to full belief in the church after all the things I have learned and discovered, I will not discount that event happening. Because for 15 years, I believed that I would never, ever leave the church. I have certainly learned that "never say never" is one of the truest phrases I have ever heard. And I hope that those believing members will welcome me back with open arms. Just as I will be there with open arms for anyone who has their own faith crisis. I will help you pick through the mess and the emotions and the pain, and whether you decide to stay or leave, I will rejoice with you in whatever you realize makes you happy.
Now, if you choose to comment, whether here, on Facebook, or in real life, be courteous and respectful. Treat me (and everyone else) the way you would want to be treated if YOU were the one writing this post. Mean comments will be deleted here, and ignored elsewhere.
Thursday, July 17, 2014
And There Were Three In The Family
I learned something in the last five days.
I definitely do not want to have more kids.
I know, I know. My last post was all about my self-induced guilt trip about not having more kids. And I honestly think there is a lot more to that guilt than just me feeling bad that poor Baby Cakes doesn't have anyone to play with but me, and I'm constantly telling her no, because I have more important things to do, like vacuum, or be on my computer looking at Reddit. (I get an A+ in my Mommy Classes for sure!) The Mormon culture that is all around me (due to location), as well as the fact that I was pretty heavily involved in it during my formative teen years, I'm positive has a lot to do with that (we must multiply and replenish the earth, don't you know). If I had joined as an adult, I don't know if that particular teaching would have stuck with me as much. And there is some guilt stemming from the fact that, out of 3 children, I'm the only one to produce a grandchild. It's a stupid reason, but hey, it is one. And there are a few other minor reasons that I'm not going to bother thinking about right now, because I already posted about it and I'm not a dog that sniffs (and possibly eats) what I regurgitate.
So, how do I know I absolutely, do not ever, want more kids? My period started today, 5 days late. And I was all sorts of freaking out the whole time. I went from scared, to pissed, to a kind of resigned and depressed acceptance, to relief when it started, in those 5 days. I never said a word to The Man about it either, because I was really hoping I wasn't. I mean, I just didn't feel pregnant, not that that means anything. That feeling certainly wasn't comforting me at all. Because how many stories are out there of women who go into labor who claim they didn't even know they were pregnant? I know I've heard of a few.
But my instant reaction I had when I realized I was late, which was of fear and "Oh my god I don't want this!", really answered whatever questions I had left bouncing around in my head about whether we should just have another one.
I'm done.
We're done.
And now I can honestly start working on getting over the unnecessary guilt about it, and start proudly owning our choice.
I definitely do not want to have more kids.
I know, I know. My last post was all about my self-induced guilt trip about not having more kids. And I honestly think there is a lot more to that guilt than just me feeling bad that poor Baby Cakes doesn't have anyone to play with but me, and I'm constantly telling her no, because I have more important things to do, like vacuum, or be on my computer looking at Reddit. (I get an A+ in my Mommy Classes for sure!) The Mormon culture that is all around me (due to location), as well as the fact that I was pretty heavily involved in it during my formative teen years, I'm positive has a lot to do with that (we must multiply and replenish the earth, don't you know). If I had joined as an adult, I don't know if that particular teaching would have stuck with me as much. And there is some guilt stemming from the fact that, out of 3 children, I'm the only one to produce a grandchild. It's a stupid reason, but hey, it is one. And there are a few other minor reasons that I'm not going to bother thinking about right now, because I already posted about it and I'm not a dog that sniffs (and possibly eats) what I regurgitate.
So, how do I know I absolutely, do not ever, want more kids? My period started today, 5 days late. And I was all sorts of freaking out the whole time. I went from scared, to pissed, to a kind of resigned and depressed acceptance, to relief when it started, in those 5 days. I never said a word to The Man about it either, because I was really hoping I wasn't. I mean, I just didn't feel pregnant, not that that means anything. That feeling certainly wasn't comforting me at all. Because how many stories are out there of women who go into labor who claim they didn't even know they were pregnant? I know I've heard of a few.
But my instant reaction I had when I realized I was late, which was of fear and "Oh my god I don't want this!", really answered whatever questions I had left bouncing around in my head about whether we should just have another one.
I'm done.
We're done.
And now I can honestly start working on getting over the unnecessary guilt about it, and start proudly owning our choice.
Sunday, June 8, 2014
Rhetorical Posting
For various reasons, I've had on my mind our decision to only have one kid. All sorts of What If's are going through my head.
What if I'm doing the wrong thing by only having Baby Cakes and stopping there?
What if I'm hurting her in some way?
Would she be happier having sibling?
What if I'm messing her up?
What if she grows up to be miserable and unhappy because she's an only child, and she hates us for it?
What if we do have another so she'll have a friend and they end up hating each other?
What if, what if, what if?
I have 2 siblings, and even though it was minefield a lot of times, there were good times too. I have good memories of my brothers, as well as bad. And it's pretty awesome having them to talk to. Sometimes, only they can really understand what I'm feeling about certain things. And I love my brothers and would do anything for them. But I won't do that.
But, regardless of the fact that I love them, we are not close. The hard times we went through did not band us together in sibling solidarity, it only separated us, especially between me and my older brother (we are only just now starting to talk on the phone and actually have things to talk about). And the only explanation I can come up with is our personalities. We are all very, very different.
Older Brother is punk, in every sense of the word. He has been since high school (we are all now in our early 30's). He does the hair, the clothes, the philosophies, the lifestyle.
I'm this weird mix of conventional and unconventional. I'm a people-pleaser, as well as someone who couldn't give a flying rat fart what someone thinks. I'm a quintessential Gemini.
Little Brother is laid back, easy going, a peace maker. He doesn't like conflict, especially in the family, and never has. He's the only one of all of us that consistently gets along with everybody in the family. He's also the most extroverted out of the 3 of us.
The Man has 2 siblings. One doesn't speak to us, for unknown reasons, and the other, well, let's just say the relationship was extremely rocky for a long time, but is now very awesome.
So I also know that having a sibling does not mean you will automatically have a bestie for life.
But I was also never lonely, not in the sense that I think only's can be. I may not have been friends with my brothers, but at least they were around. And I think that's were this wondering is coming from. It would break my heart to know that my little girl is lonely, when I know I could do something about it.
My reasons for not having another?
- I couldn't handle it emotionally or mentally. Adia is super sensitive to people being sad. I'm not sure how she would handle those moments when a baby cries for no apparent reason for hours, other than crying herself (which is what she currently does). And if that is how she would handle it, my clothing choice for every day would be a straight jacket.
- With The Man doing 5 - 6 hours of homework a night, there is not as much help there as I would like (though he does offer all the time. With how much homework he has to do, I try to not take him up on it too often). And what if, after he graduates, he gets a job where he doesn't even come home until dinner time, or maybe even later? I remember how frustrating and difficult it was to make dinner with a crying baby, even with a wrap. And how hard it can be now to make dinner with a 3 year old wanting to play with me (but doesn't want to help). Put the 2 together and we would be getting take out every night.
- Teething and potty training. Need I say more?
- Lack of sleeping, and not being able to nap with the baby because I have a toddler to take care of too. And I am a terrible person if I don't get my sleep. My patience is gone and I snap way to easily, even though I try very hard not to. I just wouldn't be the mom I want to be due to lack of sleep. I know this from experience.
- Not having the time to myself I need every night because I have to go feed/change/rock a crying baby every 2 or so hours.
- I love, love, love being able to give my full attention to Baby Cakes when I'm playing with her. I love knowing that I can be the kind of mom I want to be since I don't have to worry about more than her. I'm really not that good at this whole parenting thing, but I love how happy it makes her for me to spend time with her (though it can be soooooooooo boring). And I love that I can give that to her more than I would be able to with another.
- Deep down, I know that I'm very very happy with just one, and I feel it's very important for the parents to feel that way.
- But the biggest reason why I don't want another one is simply that I just don't. I have no desire to get pregnant (in fact I'm actually a little happy when I get my period every month), I have no desire to have a baby to hold that I can't give back. I just don't have that drive, that feeling, that want, that I had before I had Baby Cakes.
- Oh, and The Man doesn't want another either.
For those of you out there with more than one kid, and who want(ed) more than one, I wholeheartedly commend you. You are more mentally stable than me.
What if I'm doing the wrong thing by only having Baby Cakes and stopping there?
What if I'm hurting her in some way?
Would she be happier having sibling?
What if I'm messing her up?
What if she grows up to be miserable and unhappy because she's an only child, and she hates us for it?
What if we do have another so she'll have a friend and they end up hating each other?
What if, what if, what if?
I have 2 siblings, and even though it was minefield a lot of times, there were good times too. I have good memories of my brothers, as well as bad. And it's pretty awesome having them to talk to. Sometimes, only they can really understand what I'm feeling about certain things. And I love my brothers and would do anything for them. But I won't do that.
But, regardless of the fact that I love them, we are not close. The hard times we went through did not band us together in sibling solidarity, it only separated us, especially between me and my older brother (we are only just now starting to talk on the phone and actually have things to talk about). And the only explanation I can come up with is our personalities. We are all very, very different.
Older Brother is punk, in every sense of the word. He has been since high school (we are all now in our early 30's). He does the hair, the clothes, the philosophies, the lifestyle.
I'm this weird mix of conventional and unconventional. I'm a people-pleaser, as well as someone who couldn't give a flying rat fart what someone thinks. I'm a quintessential Gemini.
Little Brother is laid back, easy going, a peace maker. He doesn't like conflict, especially in the family, and never has. He's the only one of all of us that consistently gets along with everybody in the family. He's also the most extroverted out of the 3 of us.
The Man has 2 siblings. One doesn't speak to us, for unknown reasons, and the other, well, let's just say the relationship was extremely rocky for a long time, but is now very awesome.
So I also know that having a sibling does not mean you will automatically have a bestie for life.
But I was also never lonely, not in the sense that I think only's can be. I may not have been friends with my brothers, but at least they were around. And I think that's were this wondering is coming from. It would break my heart to know that my little girl is lonely, when I know I could do something about it.
My reasons for not having another?
- I couldn't handle it emotionally or mentally. Adia is super sensitive to people being sad. I'm not sure how she would handle those moments when a baby cries for no apparent reason for hours, other than crying herself (which is what she currently does). And if that is how she would handle it, my clothing choice for every day would be a straight jacket.
- With The Man doing 5 - 6 hours of homework a night, there is not as much help there as I would like (though he does offer all the time. With how much homework he has to do, I try to not take him up on it too often). And what if, after he graduates, he gets a job where he doesn't even come home until dinner time, or maybe even later? I remember how frustrating and difficult it was to make dinner with a crying baby, even with a wrap. And how hard it can be now to make dinner with a 3 year old wanting to play with me (but doesn't want to help). Put the 2 together and we would be getting take out every night.
- Teething and potty training. Need I say more?
- Lack of sleeping, and not being able to nap with the baby because I have a toddler to take care of too. And I am a terrible person if I don't get my sleep. My patience is gone and I snap way to easily, even though I try very hard not to. I just wouldn't be the mom I want to be due to lack of sleep. I know this from experience.
- Not having the time to myself I need every night because I have to go feed/change/rock a crying baby every 2 or so hours.
- I love, love, love being able to give my full attention to Baby Cakes when I'm playing with her. I love knowing that I can be the kind of mom I want to be since I don't have to worry about more than her. I'm really not that good at this whole parenting thing, but I love how happy it makes her for me to spend time with her (though it can be soooooooooo boring). And I love that I can give that to her more than I would be able to with another.
- Deep down, I know that I'm very very happy with just one, and I feel it's very important for the parents to feel that way.
- But the biggest reason why I don't want another one is simply that I just don't. I have no desire to get pregnant (in fact I'm actually a little happy when I get my period every month), I have no desire to have a baby to hold that I can't give back. I just don't have that drive, that feeling, that want, that I had before I had Baby Cakes.
- Oh, and The Man doesn't want another either.
For those of you out there with more than one kid, and who want(ed) more than one, I wholeheartedly commend you. You are more mentally stable than me.
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
My I'd-Rather-Be-Playing-Video-Games Cleaning Guide
So I'm not the most domestic person in the world. I hate pretty much anything that has to do with being domestic, from cooking to cleaning to doing any parenting that requires me getting off the couch. But since I'm pretty darn good at cooking, and my child is perfect and thus easy to parent, this post is about cleaning. Which I suck at. In fact, cleaning is the thing I hate to do most, and before Baby Cakes came along, it was the thing I did the least. My time was much too taken up with video games and tv to bother cleaning. I would wait until I couldn't stand the mess anymore, and then go on a cleaning spree, which usually happened every couple of months. In fact, my usual signal that it was time to clean was that the dust bunnies and clumps of dog hair in the corners would start talking to me and eating all our food.
Even after Baby Cakes came along, my cleaning schedule didn't change, because, well, she didn't do much. It was when she started crawling, then walking, that I started looking for some kind of cleaning checklist that I could stand to do. It was annoying seeing her so covered in dog and cat hair that she looked like an Ewok. Still, it took me a long time to find exactly what I wanted: A cleaning checklist that would keep my house at least looking clean, but that wouldn't take me all day to do. Most cleaning checklists I found SAID they only took 15 minutes a day, but in all actuality, it would have taken me all day to do the chores. Very frequently they were "deep cleaning" chores included, like wiping down baseboards and cupboards, as well as the regular vacuuming, dusting, and mopping and you were supposed to do this every day. Now, I suppose if you had no kids at home during the day and no job and you did it every single day without fail, some of these lists really would only take 15 minutes, but there was no way it would only take me 15 minutes to do them. There were also usually about 5 - 10 different chores to do every day, as well as weekly, monthly, and seasonal chores. Basically, my whole life would have been spent cleaning. Which, if that's what you want to do, great, do it! But that's not what I want to do. I want to play video games, do something crafty (the one "domestic" thing I like to do), and maybe play with my daughter too. I'm not one of those parents that is able to have my 3 year old do any cleaning and be satisfied with it, so bonding over cleaning doesn't happen. I have to do it myself, and I hate doing it, so my standards for a cleaning checklist are pretty high. I finally found one, and even though I can't remember where I got it from now, I'm going to tell you what it is here. Sorry, no pretty graphics. I don't know how to do that. I know, I'm a bad blogger (if someone wants to volunteer their services, I'll happily pay you in cookies).
Basically what I wanted was a list that gave me 1 or 2 simple chores to do every day that would at least make my house LOOK clean, if not actually clean it. This did not include doing dishes, that is one chore that I do every morning (takes about 10 minutes, unloading and loading, in case you're wondering. Thankfully, I only have to do it once a day most days). I finally found a list that had one chore every day that included optional once a week deep cleaning of one thing, which I choose to ignore for now. I started following it, and after some tweaking, here is my daily chore list (you will notice that dusting is not on this list. This is because, no matter what I use, dusting makes The Man's asthma act up, so it is something done only when I can't stand it anymore, instead of regularly):
Monday: Laundry
Now, The Man is in charge of doing our laundry (which he does on the weekend), so I do Baby Cakes' laundry and strip the beds and wash the sheets and towels. I also put clean sheets on (usually right before going to bed). While this chore technically takes most of the day, I'm not standing over the washing machine all day (thank you technology), so total time is probably around 15 - 30 minutes, depending on how much "help" I'm getting from Baby Cakes.
Tuesday: Put away the laundry
No, I don't fold the laundry first. Wrinkles are not something I worry about. I pair socks as I put them away, and I only fold pants and towels so they'll fit in the drawers better. Probably takes me 15 - 30 minutes, again depending on how much "help" I receive.
Wednesday: Vacuum
This is the longest chore for the week. And I hate doing it. If I don't get interrupted, I can get it done in 30 - 45 minutes, but it usually takes about 60 - 90 minutes because I have to pick up toys off the floor before I can vacuum. So I guess that chore gets done too, because we really suck at having Baby Cakes pick up her toys every night. I also have to wait until Baby Cakes goes to a different level of the house, because she doesn't like how loud the vacuum is. This is a chore that gets skipped about once a month due to not feeling like it. Also, I vacuum every floor, including the ones not carpeted. The vacuum cuts down on flying dust much better than sweeping does, and it's a lot faster and not as messy.
Thursday: Clean the kitchen
For me, this means wiping down the stove, sink, counters, table, and chairs. I also mop the floor if it needs it and I feel like it (usually not until my feet are sticking to it). So mopping happens around once a month. This one takes about 15 minutes (20 if I mop), even with "help", because Baby Cakes is pretty good at wiping things.
Friday: Clean the bathrooms
This one is much easier than I think a lot of people realize, especially after you start doing it weekly. I don't mop the floors because they are super small and it's hard to get a mop in there without constantly bumping into things and performing contortionist tricks, so I will spot clean around the toilet when needed (which thanks to the fact that The Man can aim, and Baby Cakes pees sitting down, is pretty rare). I just wipe down the counters, sinks, tub, and toilets. This takes 15 minutes total - 10 minutes in one bathroom, 5 in the other.
Saturday and Sunday: Not a blasted thing (though mowing may start happening here soon).
I've noticed since I've started following this list (I've been doing it for about 6 months, I'd say) that my tolerance for a mess is going down. I'm much more likely to randomly put things away if they aren't where they are supposed to be, and I'm getting better at not setting things down in random places in the first place. Now if I can get The Man to stop doing that, everything would be golden. Anything else that needs cleaning happens as I feel like doing it and Baby Cakes lets me. So I end up with a day that is open to actually do things, like go outside or to the library or park. Or watch tv. You know, important stuff.
Oh yeah, the nice thing about this list (besides the fact that it's easy)? It doesn't make my house look like it could be in Better Homes and Gardens, which helps me remember that my house looking perfect at all times is NOT important. It's important that it's clean, because being sick sucks, but if there are toys on the floor more days than not, or dog hair on the couch every day but Wednesday, eh. What's important is that I have time to beat Diablo 3.
Even after Baby Cakes came along, my cleaning schedule didn't change, because, well, she didn't do much. It was when she started crawling, then walking, that I started looking for some kind of cleaning checklist that I could stand to do. It was annoying seeing her so covered in dog and cat hair that she looked like an Ewok. Still, it took me a long time to find exactly what I wanted: A cleaning checklist that would keep my house at least looking clean, but that wouldn't take me all day to do. Most cleaning checklists I found SAID they only took 15 minutes a day, but in all actuality, it would have taken me all day to do the chores. Very frequently they were "deep cleaning" chores included, like wiping down baseboards and cupboards, as well as the regular vacuuming, dusting, and mopping and you were supposed to do this every day. Now, I suppose if you had no kids at home during the day and no job and you did it every single day without fail, some of these lists really would only take 15 minutes, but there was no way it would only take me 15 minutes to do them. There were also usually about 5 - 10 different chores to do every day, as well as weekly, monthly, and seasonal chores. Basically, my whole life would have been spent cleaning. Which, if that's what you want to do, great, do it! But that's not what I want to do. I want to play video games, do something crafty (the one "domestic" thing I like to do), and maybe play with my daughter too. I'm not one of those parents that is able to have my 3 year old do any cleaning and be satisfied with it, so bonding over cleaning doesn't happen. I have to do it myself, and I hate doing it, so my standards for a cleaning checklist are pretty high. I finally found one, and even though I can't remember where I got it from now, I'm going to tell you what it is here. Sorry, no pretty graphics. I don't know how to do that. I know, I'm a bad blogger (if someone wants to volunteer their services, I'll happily pay you in cookies).
Basically what I wanted was a list that gave me 1 or 2 simple chores to do every day that would at least make my house LOOK clean, if not actually clean it. This did not include doing dishes, that is one chore that I do every morning (takes about 10 minutes, unloading and loading, in case you're wondering. Thankfully, I only have to do it once a day most days). I finally found a list that had one chore every day that included optional once a week deep cleaning of one thing, which I choose to ignore for now. I started following it, and after some tweaking, here is my daily chore list (you will notice that dusting is not on this list. This is because, no matter what I use, dusting makes The Man's asthma act up, so it is something done only when I can't stand it anymore, instead of regularly):
Monday: Laundry
Now, The Man is in charge of doing our laundry (which he does on the weekend), so I do Baby Cakes' laundry and strip the beds and wash the sheets and towels. I also put clean sheets on (usually right before going to bed). While this chore technically takes most of the day, I'm not standing over the washing machine all day (thank you technology), so total time is probably around 15 - 30 minutes, depending on how much "help" I'm getting from Baby Cakes.
Tuesday: Put away the laundry
No, I don't fold the laundry first. Wrinkles are not something I worry about. I pair socks as I put them away, and I only fold pants and towels so they'll fit in the drawers better. Probably takes me 15 - 30 minutes, again depending on how much "help" I receive.
Wednesday: Vacuum
This is the longest chore for the week. And I hate doing it. If I don't get interrupted, I can get it done in 30 - 45 minutes, but it usually takes about 60 - 90 minutes because I have to pick up toys off the floor before I can vacuum. So I guess that chore gets done too, because we really suck at having Baby Cakes pick up her toys every night. I also have to wait until Baby Cakes goes to a different level of the house, because she doesn't like how loud the vacuum is. This is a chore that gets skipped about once a month due to not feeling like it. Also, I vacuum every floor, including the ones not carpeted. The vacuum cuts down on flying dust much better than sweeping does, and it's a lot faster and not as messy.
Thursday: Clean the kitchen
For me, this means wiping down the stove, sink, counters, table, and chairs. I also mop the floor if it needs it and I feel like it (usually not until my feet are sticking to it). So mopping happens around once a month. This one takes about 15 minutes (20 if I mop), even with "help", because Baby Cakes is pretty good at wiping things.
Friday: Clean the bathrooms
This one is much easier than I think a lot of people realize, especially after you start doing it weekly. I don't mop the floors because they are super small and it's hard to get a mop in there without constantly bumping into things and performing contortionist tricks, so I will spot clean around the toilet when needed (which thanks to the fact that The Man can aim, and Baby Cakes pees sitting down, is pretty rare). I just wipe down the counters, sinks, tub, and toilets. This takes 15 minutes total - 10 minutes in one bathroom, 5 in the other.
Saturday and Sunday: Not a blasted thing (though mowing may start happening here soon).
I've noticed since I've started following this list (I've been doing it for about 6 months, I'd say) that my tolerance for a mess is going down. I'm much more likely to randomly put things away if they aren't where they are supposed to be, and I'm getting better at not setting things down in random places in the first place. Now if I can get The Man to stop doing that, everything would be golden. Anything else that needs cleaning happens as I feel like doing it and Baby Cakes lets me. So I end up with a day that is open to actually do things, like go outside or to the library or park. Or watch tv. You know, important stuff.
Oh yeah, the nice thing about this list (besides the fact that it's easy)? It doesn't make my house look like it could be in Better Homes and Gardens, which helps me remember that my house looking perfect at all times is NOT important. It's important that it's clean, because being sick sucks, but if there are toys on the floor more days than not, or dog hair on the couch every day but Wednesday, eh. What's important is that I have time to beat Diablo 3.
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