Smashing Pumpkins

I want to write. I don't know what I want to write about in particular- But I just have this desire to spill the contents of my brain.

This is not an uncommon feeling for me. Actually it is something that has plagued me since I was a little girl. I was published once. Yes, I wrote poems, and one (about birthdays) was published in a little book called something to the effect of "Anthology of Poems..." something something.

From the time that I was young I have wanted to be a writer but have never known what to write about. When the time does come, that a letter needs to be written, or that I have a brief space in time when the thoughts in my mind make sense to me- Neat things generally happen. The planets must line up and pigs actually do grow wings and fly. (Similar to when the Boston Red Sox and The.... Phillies??? win the World Series. I'm still bitter.)

Someone said to me today "can you ever just stop 'feeling' for a minute?" I would LOVE to meet a person who can just stop feeling. I'm going to go ahead and be harsh and call that one of the dumbest things that I have heard in a while. Maybe it isn't, and perhaps I am just upset and "feeling" again. Blasted things, those feelings. Would it really be a good thing to stop feeling? Let's explore this thought.

"Feelings" are defined as:

/ˈfilɪŋ/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[fee-ling] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation –noun

1.	the function or the power of perceiving by touch.

2.	physical sensation not connected with sight, hearing, taste, or smell.

3.	a particular sensation of this kind: a feeling of warmth; a feeling of pain.

4.	the general state of consciousness considered independently of particular sensations, thoughts, etc.

5.	a consciousness or vague awareness: a feeling of inferiority.

6.	an emotion or emotional perception or attitude: a feeling of joy; a feeling of sorrow.

7.	capacity for emotion, esp. compassion: to have great feeling for the sufferings of others.

8.	a sentiment; attitude; opinion: The general feeling was in favor of the proposal.

9.	feelings, sensibilities; susceptibilities: to hurt one's feelings.

10.	fine emotional endowment.

11.	(in music, art, etc.) a. emotion or sympathetic perception revealed by an artist in his or her work: a poem without feeling. b. the general impression conveyed by a work: a landscape painting with a spacious feeling. c. sympathetic appreciation, as of music: to play with feeling.

–adjective

12.	sensitive; sentient.

13.	readily affected by emotion; sympathetic: a feeling heart.

14.	indicating or characterized by emotion: a feeling reply to the charge.

So, moving along with the definition(s) of feeling, let's elaborate on what happens when you stop feeling...

You injure yourself or other people- Physically and potentially emotionally. For example, you are cooking let's say a pouch of Ramen on the stove and you touch your pinky finger on the burner. If you have no feelings you would not feel the burning sensation (note definition number three) and would not know to REMOVE your burning finger from the burner before you are left with... Ew. OR let's say you are leaving a persons house with your hands full and do not FEEL the door close against you and let someone else's cat outside for her frozen doom. That would be horrific. Oops. There go those feelings again. We caught two of them there- Of object "a" not having the physical sensation of the closing door thereby causing object "b" (myself) to feel sadness and frustration over the aforementioned potentially harmed kitty. *sighs*

I suppose that I always have been one to anger easily or hurt easily or even- Here comes that word again "feel" easily. It's in my genes, I guess. Really that's no excuse- But just how much is too much when it comes to feelings? How does one stop feeling? Something like that just sounds outrageous to me. Stop feeling... Foolishness. There have been times when I have thought that a person does not have feelings, only later to find out they do have feelings- Actually they are usually the more sensitive people that I have met in life- They have only developed the ability to stuff them into that dark, back closet that we all possess.

Ahhhh the closet. I once heard a speaker at an old church that I went to speak of the dark closet, and the darkness hidden within. The hurts, the "feelings", the trials of our lives that we never want to live through again. With me, I guess it is trial and tribulations I would rather not continue to live through. My dark things tend to be things that I half-dealt with, and couldn't bear to follow through on. Old issues with my father, ex boyfriends, haha- Even bills. At any rate, she used to talk about how God wants to sift through the boxes and bags with us, put on a scarf or two- Even pay a bill. We just have to be willing to sit on the floor with Him, open the door, and let it all fall out. What a frightening thought that is to me, even now. Dealing I can handle I guess- It is the "all falling out" that hurts me. Knowing that I do not and cannot sustain myself, it is a scary thought. It is a true thought. I am not my own, and I never will be.

Sudden sensation to pray.

Stay classy.

Rach

Mast-WHAT?

Oh to have a child. It is the most wonderful, miraculous, most fulfilling thing that a person can ever do. I truly believe this. However, the process by which this happens is not given justice in middle school and even high school sex-ed classes. Really. The things you go through- I am nauseated when I think about the 12-17 year old little girls that are taking part in this- as it is supposed to be- miraculous and self sacrificing event. I mean, I am 26 years old now, and there are times when I feel as though I was not prepared for everything I have and will be going through. Allow me to elaborate...

I can start at the beginning, but I will spare the awful terms and details by merely saying- Pregnancy is DISGUSTING. Pre-Birth and Post. It really is just revolting for Mommies and even (if it's possible to imagine the comparison) Daddies at times.

Friday was my birthday. I went to bed Thursday night healthy and excited about the next day. My husband and I were to go out for a REAL date night. Nice dinner and shoe shopping. Ahhhhh shoe shopping. Perhaps the most lovely part of this whole idea was that we would have the chance to be alone for several hours as Naner and Aunt Sarah would watch our son. I was delighted at the mere thought of being alone with my husband for an evening. DELIGHTED.

I woke up at approximately 2am to what could be nothing other than a high fever. As I sat up I felt a THROBBING and heaviness on my chest (yes, ON my chest- Particularly the upper, left side) the likes of which I have never felt before, to pair with the misery of a fever. Long story short, I had an infection. If you're a Mommy you KNOW what kind of infection I am referencing here. *shudders* Out of everything else that I had been through with pregnancy, amniocentesis, induction, 14 hours of labor, and a cesarean delivery, THAT infection was what briefly had me considering whether I really wanted more one day. That's the farthest I will go into detail on that one. Thanks to antibiotics and modern medicine I am nearly recovered.

Suffice it to say, we went out anyway. I fought tooth and nail to get a doctors appointment for that afternoon, swallowed some Tylenol, and distracted myself with the idea of being swept off of my feet again. Naner and crazy Aunt Sarah arrived around 630ish with a gift- A COFFEE MAKER! We didn't have one, and now we do. So wonderful! The evening turned out to be just wonderful. I don't have the words to accurately describe how I felt, but it was as though we were dating again. It was a dream =)

Saturday was a blur. I was ill all day, Sunday we went to my parents for birthday cake and lunch. It was lovely. I missed my Dad. Good old Jeff.

And now we are at Monday. Rainy icky day. Another doctors appointment to check on the booba and then home for a restful day with my husband and bear.

I can honestly say- I am in love with our life. The gift that is life... More on that to follow.... ; )

Like your mom in a pie eating contest-

Rach

Local Area Nerdfest

It is said that most young women marry men similar to their fathers. I married one like my mother. I would just chalk this up to the odd observations that I make on a daily basis, but my mother also married a man, similar to her mother. I have to wonder what this is about.
I grew up with an aggressive father. Yes, without going into too much detail, he was and to this day, still is an aggressive man. Very aggressive. My mother, on the other hand, is extremely passive on her own. Not so much with my father- He "eggs" aggressive behavior out of her. Maybe that's what it is- Maybe we marry the person which counters our primary tendencies. I tend to be more aggressive on my own. My husband is, as I previously stated, VERY, very, very (am I making my point clear?) passive. Did I marry him to live out a passive side of own? To balance out? But then how do you explain the many women who marry men like their fathers? A close friend of mine married someone who is nearly, as far as personality is concerned, a mirrored image of her father. Is she well balanced where as my mother and I are not? Therefor another person to counter her strong personality is not necessary, but rather someone like her to enjoy? There must be some psycho-social explanation for all of this.

The weekend was fairly uneventful. Friday is actually a blur, Saturday I had to work and my son was ill and sleepy all day. My husband had a LAN party Saturday night at a friends house which he attended quite joyfully. For those of you who do not know- LAN stands for Local Area Network. These LAN parties are when, a group of fellow nerds like my husband, congregate to one place and play computer games together for generally LONG periods of time. I have heard that prior to his marriage to me, they would go on for weeks at a time. I won't even lie, I am glad that I never had to see those days. It was torturous for me to go to bed without him here, but there was something nice about feeling missed. He came home early in the morning with kisses to my forehead and cuddles (he probably doesn't know that I know that he did this, I pretended to be asleep). The rest of Sunday was mellow, we watched the New York Jets make a mockery of themselves yet again with some pizza and then hung out the rest of the evening. It was nice. It is rare that we get weekends like this anymore. : )

Bear is asleep, and I am dizzy. I hate this feeling. Just this woozy blegh.

No time to be ill. Cleaning to be done and it is nearly one o'clock and I have yet to even get a shower. No time like the present- Shower for me.

Have a lovely day!

Rach

Snakes and snails and sugar and spice

Today was fun. Really. It was just a fun day.

My alarm (yes mine, as my husband does not respond when he sets one for himself but instead rolls over, turns it off and goes back to sleep until I wake him) went off at 730am this morning. I made my best groggy attempt at waking him only for him to say "okay" and go back to sleep. That's fine, I figure- It's fall and they actually slow down at work in the fall.

I had a lovely day planned for myself. Best friend gave me my birthday gift early. Best friend really is a lovely human being, for she understands the needs of the material deprived mommy quite well. She bestowed the gift of hair cutting and clothing upon me. Ahhh the haircut. For those of you who do not know, I had a baby boy in May- I can't imagine how you wouldn't be familiar with this information as I have mentioned him in EVERY single post thus far. (All three of them.) My weight isn't exactly coming off as I would like it to, so whenever I come to terms with my hugeness and need new motivation to lose said weight, I cut more hair off of my head. First time we cut twelve (yes, twelve) inches off so that my once halfway down to my dariair locks, reached just below my chin. Round two (today) I had them "Katie Holmes'd" above my chin and some layers just at my ears. The feeling of less hair on my head is wonderful. More hair gone, ten more pounds to lose I figure. (It didn't work last time, I don't know why I thought that it would work this time. Maybe next time- Third's a charm after all!)

At any rate, my hair appointment was at eleven just a few minutes away but I had MUCH to do prior to leaving the house. Today is bath day for the bear. So I sprung out of bed at 8am only to see that my teenie bear was still fast asleep in his crib. I went into my husbands and my room, got changed for the day, and then checked on him again- Still asleep. Now, Noah and I share a car. To my knowledge it had been arranged that his father would be picking him up for work again, and that I would be taking the car. My knowledge was wrong. As I contemplated waking my little, my husband informed me that he would not, in fact be picked up by Pop Pop, but that I would need to drive him. This was fine, and I muttered to him that it would be fine. I do not speak coherantly in the morning- So my "that's ok, it's too early to ask Jessie for a ride" probably came out in some dialect of Ozz-man. I swept the baby out of his crib and sat him in his carseat and began to buckle him in. As I was doing that, my husband came over with an "I love you good bye" kiss and walked out the door. I stood there stunned for about a minute and then decided to call my husband to find out exactly what had just happened. Misunderstanding. OK that's fine I figure. It's only nine and I wanted to leave by about ten. There was coffee to be picked up prior to meeting best friend at her house and then departing to the salon that awaited us. Noah came back with his Aunt and they drove off in the truck and I had the car... Ahhhh yes.

Bear got his bath painlessly. He loves bathtime. It's adorable. He cooes and chats and raspberries the entire time. I love the scrunched up little face that he makes as I rinse the soap off of his little noggin. We were done with all preparations by the time that ten o'clock rolled around, and so I packed up my little charmer, and we set out on our days journey. We got to Best Friend's at about twenty minutes past ten, and then left for the hairdressers at about fourty minutes past. Lots of hair to go, as I mentioned. Good good time had.

Next trip was to Franks for some food. We had salads and they were lovely. Next, to Walmart for pictures to be developed. That went quite easily, no screaming babies. Oh, one thing though. People love to touch babies. Strangers- Love to touch babies. I HATE that. One man walked up with a "Stogie" in his hand and dirt caked fingernails and moved his hands towards my son as we were walking in- I kept it moving, so he didn't get near enough to touch him- But really- THINK. I wish I could Lysol the world for my boy. Sickening.

Then for coffee and then back to Best Friends for the post shopping breastfeeding party. We both nurse our babies, so it's inevitable that when we get together we will have to nurse our children at least once. Usually much more often than that. That time went well and then we went on a walk. It was probably my favorite part of the day. It was just a pretty fall day with just the right amount of wind and blowing leaves. We stopped at a park area and took pictures of our wee ones, and then just admired the prettiness of the day.
















Today is the first time this year that I really enjoyed fall. Typically I complain about it, and the moisture and then about how it's too cold, or about bugs, or just complain about something in general. But this year it was nice. I really do believe that it has something to do with having a baby now, and my best friend having hers as well. It makes everything brand new again- As though I am seeing bright red leaves in the breeze for the first time just like Xavier and Nora are.

Post park time, X and I headed out to Kohls for some clothing. Nice trip, however I do wish my little pooch were gone. I want someone to donate a tummy tuck to me like they did for Kate Goslin. Three shirts purchased, then I picked up supper and made my way home to see my hubby. Oh my love... <3

Grey's Anatomy is over, Noah is home and now I suppose it is time for me to head to bed. Tomorrow shouldn't be very busy- But who knows. There's always something : )

Keep fighting the good fight.

Rach

Gigs are nerd for gigabyte

No adventures today. I was woken up by a screaming child several times last night and the optimistic side of me, however minuscule, assumed that that meant he would perhaps sleep late today. I was wrong. I woke up to the screaming boy at about 730am. I got up, fed him, got ready for the day, and was decent in time to see Daddy, Pop Pop and Aunt Terri off to work for the day.

X went to sleep for nap, round one, at about 930am, which was early for him. His sleep schedule is quite messed up as of recent days- I have yet to figure out what the problem is, and how to remedy it. I have been sick since last week, so perhaps he is fighting something off. Go antibodies, go!

I got a lot of cleaning done, looked at the clock- it was about 1045am and while it was too early for lunch- I knew it was probably the only chance that I was going to get between then and about two. So I reached into the refrigerator, pulled out some ingredients for salad. Actually just one- I don't know if you've ever had them, but one of those Dole insta-salads (as we call them in my home). It's a big bag of lettuce with a pack of croutons, Parmesan- Romano cheese, and salad dressing. We like the Garlic Caesar. Very convenient for Mommies that don't have time to pee without interruption let alone pull pieces of lettuce apart and shred cheese. Where was I? OH salad and my five minute lunch. I poured the necessary ingredients out as my mouth watered at my healthy treat and then made my way to the living room to enjoy it with a yogurt drink and television. I never used to watch television. It's sad. Now I could probably quote TLC's runtime schedules to you off of the top of my head. It could be worse, I suppose. I could be watching Lifetime...

Anyway, it was no sooner that I took a stab at my salad and opened my mouth to receive it that little boy decided to wake up screaming yet again. I don't know how he does this. It would seem that whenever I lift a fork or spoon or piece of food to my mouth, he instantly senses it and yelps for me. Usually this yelping is in a manner that causes me to drop what I am doing and RUN to him. I am now learning that this is the beginning of boundary testing, and I must let him scream himself unconscious. Oh how I despise letting him cry. However I know that my sanity and his well-being somewhat rests on it. So I guess it's that time. They don't tell you this stuff on the "before you leave the hospital" tapes.

So my day would trudge on. Daddy comes home with Pop Pop around one fifteen, and all of a sudden my cranky little boy has his charm back. That would figure. Pop Pop leaves- Baby screams again. Amazing. Daddy pops his head over my shoulder as I talk to my boy about how it's just not nice to yell at Mommy and he whines back to me, but has smiles and chatter for Daddy. I don't know what that is about. But it's just not fair.

My darling husband bought something for the computer last week and it came in today. I asked him what it was and he said with stars in his eyes, "Two gigs of RAM!" It was very cute. You'd think he'd found some rare coin with a metal detector by the way he had said it.

Day to evening, evening to night, more screaming. And now bedtime. Ahhhhh bedtime. Not for me of course. I've got two or so more hours of work to be done before I get to bed. Love is not home yet, and I do not sleep unless I know that Noah and XJ are here safe with me. Ohhh Mommyhood.

Over and out

Uno

So it's the first day with this thing. I suppose that I am suppose to write here?

I guess I can start with the whole idea of my blog. I think. A lot. Most of the time over the most insignificant things and magnify them in my own mind as being largely significant thus creating a whirlwind of issues in my own life and the lives of others. I suppose I am thinking that this is should help with that. If I can dump my thoughts in one place that does not impact the lives of others, how can I lay the burden of my own paranoid mind on others, right? I guess by paranoid I don't mean to say that I am mentally ill. I just like to think. No- I take that back. I hate thinking. I loathe and despise thinking. At least the way that I do it. Someone can say something so simple as "I like red more than you do." And this is where I may go with it:

"Do they really like red more than I? Have I done something to make them think that I do not like the color red more than they do? Are they upset with me that they are just trying to pick a fight over something as insignificant as a color? Maybe I'm wrong to like the color red. What have I done to upset them?"

It sounds QUITE silly. But really. That is where I go.

Soooo today was INSAAAANE! It started out lovely. My darling little boy, Xavier slept until a WONDERFUL 9:50am this morning. I woke up refreshed. More refreshed than usual because I had been ill in days prior, so I definitely needed to sleep in a bit to catch myself up and get everything done that I needed to finish today.

Last night Noah had volleyball. Our car was broken for what seemed to be WEEKS, so he had to take what we call "The Bingo Car". It's this beater that my husbands father's girlfriend owns (Mouthful right? Tell that to my son when he has to learn that one!) that we borrow as well as anyone else in their family, when their car "takes a dump". Well a friend of ours came by yesterday to fix our car, so my husband took the beater to volleyball, and I took our car to Giant to go food shopping. Food shopping is nice for two reasons. 1) I greatly enjoy cooking and when I go shopping, I get to exercise aforementioned joy in days to follow, and B) (Yes 1 and B) I get time to be out with normal people. I do take our son with me, but he is still so young and generally asleep for the duration of this trip. I got home and Noah was not home yet. Not cool. I got home about about 945pm which was around when I had expected him. 1030 rolls around and his father has called his phone as well as mine about 3 times, I am worried and rolling any and every possible circumstance through my mind and quizzing myself on how I will handle each and every one of these circumstances, preparing myself to have to act quickly and for any possible disaster. (This blogspot addy is "deepinmyownhead" for a reason. I can't get out!) About 11pm arrived and my husband walks in and I rush out to the kitchen to see him. He's hanging his head a bit low, so I was naturally concerned. I asked him what was wrong, all he said was "just life" and moseyed out to the bathroom to shower. I followed him proceeded to question him on the events of the evening. He then informed me that he had been pulled over for the headlight that is out on the bingo car, and how his license was apparently suspended. I felt horrible. Life has been rough on him over the past year, and this was just something else. He showered and we both went to bed early (for us) and then devised a plan for how we would tackle this situation together in the day to follow.

I told you that story to tell you this one. I was awaken from my rested splendor to two or three unread texts from my dear other asking me to call an agency (business with agency at the end) and find out how they could assist him in this situation. They told me everything that we would need to do, and I did complete all necessary tasks to make this as easy and painless as possible for my nerve beaten husband. Paperwork on the counter, by the car key ready to go. Baby asleep to prepare for the days journeys and I decide that I want to go out and visit my mother at work with her grandson. I'd been meaning to do this for WEEKS. I finally had the car, so I figured what the heck. So I pack up my little monster and off we go. Naner was excited to see her bear. I was happy to see her gush with pride as she carted him around her office. And so we left on our next endeavor. Now, my husband will give me money for an errand or two at times, and I always keep the change and store it- Where? Well that's still a secret! I grabbed my little stash as I had left this afternoon so as to purchase myself the mocha shake that I had been CRAVING for weeks now from the new Sonic that had opened. As I was driving to Naners work, I asked my husband if he wanted anything when he got home (after our errands) and all he said was "lasagna". My husband loves Italian food. Anytime that I have ever made anything Italian, he has asked for it again and again. And like I said before- I LOVE TO COOK. So it works. As I got off of the highway I looked to my right and saw the loveliness that awaited me, and decided to pick up the necessary ingredients for lasagna for my worn love. He works hard, he has had a rough year, if he is happy, I am happy. It was just the right thing to do. I pull into Walmart, grab cheese and leave. Easy enough? NEVER.

There are several things that bother me when I am driving... 1) Turning without a signal, 2) STOPPING at yield signs and 3) STOPPING at green arrows. All three of these would happen as I work my way towards my home where my husband would surely be waiting for me to arrive and drive off to have life taken care of. I get home- There's pop pop and Daddy pulling into the driveway as I am. We unload the boy, hand him to Pop, bring him inside, gather the necessary- Well I don't know what I was doing. I basically went inside and left. We left, and all was well and good in the Koch home yet again.
Post license redeeming I had plans with my very best friend to take her daughter, mine and her cousin Vicki through the corn maze at the farm down the road. Before this I had to prepare the lasagna to be eaten later that evening so that when I got home, it would just be slipped into the oven, avoiding the "Feed the baby, clean, cook and say good bye" rush. Lasa prepared, crisis averted. We went to the farm, it was lovely. Great time. Always is. I am certain that you will hear more about "best friend". Even better times, I'm sure : )

Busy day, but we accomplished a lot. I prefer those to the boring and slow ones. Slow days I feel as though I'm nearly useless. When I do work, clean, cook, go for walks- I feel as though my worth increases and that I am of some good use to this world- More particularly my husband. It's a flaw. Again, I can't get out of my own head.

Bed now. It's late. More adventures tomorrow, I am sure.

Peace and hair grease!