It's been almost six months since I drove Aaron to Omaha for the beginning of this deployment. I saw him three times after that in North Carolina... and I haven't seen his face or held his hand since August. I am whiny, and angry, and helpless, and so so sad. I know that I am not the first to go through a deployment... and I won't be the last. But that does not mean that it hurts any less...
My mom's blog says to pray... and I keep trying to do that, but I just feel selfish and stupid. And I don't know what to say. And I just keep praying the same thing over and over. And he's still not home.
I have been single, or basically single, my whole life. And yes, I have been lonely. But I didn't know what it was like to be fulfilled... I was so independent and always capable (probably too capable) of taking care of myself. But now I know. And I want him back. I don't want to talk about it anymore. I don't want to start anymore projects, just for distraction. I don't want to go out. I don't want ONE MORE PERSON to tell me that it will be over soon. I just want him back.
Please, God, bring him home. Please please please.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Monday, September 21, 2009
Earned Blessings
I went home this weekend to visit my new baby neice, Korbyn Erin Nichole Liebler. Can you believe I actually have another human being NAMED after me? My brother and his little wifee told me they were going to give Miss Korbyn two middle names, my name and her sister's name. And somehow, in the midst of the past 9 months' activity, I forgot. I hope they didn't notice my stunned expression when they asked me to help decide in which order to put the names. Oops yet again.
This little baby is beautiful. Obviously I am partial due to the fact she shares some of my genes, but in my heart, I would know if she was ugly. And she's just not.
This little baby is beautiful. Obviously I am partial due to the fact she shares some of my genes, but in my heart, I would know if she was ugly. And she's just not.
I didn't get teared up at all throughout this process. I think I've been in serious denial that my baby brother had actually produced a baby, or would be a FATHER for that matter. I'm his big sister. Yes, we will have different experiences in our lifetimes, but I'm supposed to pretty much experience everything first. I'm supposed to give guidance and advice, and I'm supposed to tell him what to do and what not to do.
And yet here he is, helping sweet Ali make it through a VERY long labor, cutting an umbilical cord (I don't even know if I spelled that right), measuring tiny ounces of formula, changing diapers, and taking care of his new FAMILY.
Every single bit of this is foreign territory to me. I wasn't there to see or be a part of the birth (I'm stuck in Alabama four days a week for the new job), so I still have no idea the depths of what the female body goes through. I only held Korbyn a few times and spent a pretty minimal amount of time with them overall, and I don't know how or when they sleep. I don't know how much a newborn needs to eat. I don't know what the signs and symptoms are for illness. I don't know what it takes for a body to heal after an event like this. I can barely hand her off to anyone in fear that "someone will drop the baby". I am not the big sister in this situation, but merely a very awed and inspired outsider.
I do know that Miss Korbyn is a blessing. An earned blessing. They didn't pick her up off a clearance aisle at Target. And she cannot be returned. She is going to bring them plenty of poopy diapers, spilled milk, temper tantrums, and sleepless nights. But she will bring tons of joy, laughter, peace, and fulfillment. She is an earned blessing.
My very old parents (Come on, you know you're old :) have brought home THREE beautiful earned blessings. Three under three. The BLT ranch. The crazy house. Call it what you want, but most people tell me that my parents are amazing.... but nuts. And they are. Their house, which was once beautifully decorated with what some call "modern country", is now filled with plastic cars of multiple colors, play houses, a jungle gym, and even a bounce house. They never sleep or spend time alone. They don't get to go on dates or spend much time with friends. They can't even really talk much on the phone, because these children have sensors for phone conversation that cause them to yell louder when someone calls. Most of the time, I think they barely notice each other, because they're just trying to get by. Just surviving the day... hoping for enough sleep... only to do the same thing all over again when they wake up.
But again, this mad house is a blessing to anyone who walks through the door. These kids are hilarious, intelligent, brave, adorable, corky, sweet... but most of all, they are LOVED. They bring joy to their very tired parents, to their grandparents who almost didn't get to have little grandbabies, to aunts and uncles who won't have anymore children, but who love to babysit, to friends who love to watch the effort being made in the church balcony, to strangers who might have never thought twice about adoption but who can now imagine loving any child, and to big sisters who just love them because. They are earned blessings.
And yet here he is, helping sweet Ali make it through a VERY long labor, cutting an umbilical cord (I don't even know if I spelled that right), measuring tiny ounces of formula, changing diapers, and taking care of his new FAMILY.
Every single bit of this is foreign territory to me. I wasn't there to see or be a part of the birth (I'm stuck in Alabama four days a week for the new job), so I still have no idea the depths of what the female body goes through. I only held Korbyn a few times and spent a pretty minimal amount of time with them overall, and I don't know how or when they sleep. I don't know how much a newborn needs to eat. I don't know what the signs and symptoms are for illness. I don't know what it takes for a body to heal after an event like this. I can barely hand her off to anyone in fear that "someone will drop the baby". I am not the big sister in this situation, but merely a very awed and inspired outsider.
I do know that Miss Korbyn is a blessing. An earned blessing. They didn't pick her up off a clearance aisle at Target. And she cannot be returned. She is going to bring them plenty of poopy diapers, spilled milk, temper tantrums, and sleepless nights. But she will bring tons of joy, laughter, peace, and fulfillment. She is an earned blessing.
My very old parents (Come on, you know you're old :) have brought home THREE beautiful earned blessings. Three under three. The BLT ranch. The crazy house. Call it what you want, but most people tell me that my parents are amazing.... but nuts. And they are. Their house, which was once beautifully decorated with what some call "modern country", is now filled with plastic cars of multiple colors, play houses, a jungle gym, and even a bounce house. They never sleep or spend time alone. They don't get to go on dates or spend much time with friends. They can't even really talk much on the phone, because these children have sensors for phone conversation that cause them to yell louder when someone calls. Most of the time, I think they barely notice each other, because they're just trying to get by. Just surviving the day... hoping for enough sleep... only to do the same thing all over again when they wake up.
But again, this mad house is a blessing to anyone who walks through the door. These kids are hilarious, intelligent, brave, adorable, corky, sweet... but most of all, they are LOVED. They bring joy to their very tired parents, to their grandparents who almost didn't get to have little grandbabies, to aunts and uncles who won't have anymore children, but who love to babysit, to friends who love to watch the effort being made in the church balcony, to strangers who might have never thought twice about adoption but who can now imagine loving any child, and to big sisters who just love them because. They are earned blessings.
My husband is in Iraq. He started his deployment in May, went to training in North Carolina and California, and then headed over to a world that I know nothing about. I don't even know if I support what we are doing over there, mainly because I don't know much about it. And yet, since Aaron left, I see men (I'm not being sexist, just I've seen mainly men, and the one female was rude) in uniform all over the place. I've read books about what it's like to wait for a spouse at war. I just got done bawling over an episode of Army Wives. Ugh, the War on Terror is no longer only on CNN for me. It's everywhere.
I am trying really hard to stay positive. I am fine one day, and then the next, I am irritable, bitter, and sad sad sad. I try to spend time with friends and family, but I feel out of place, like I'm just biding time until I can go home and go to bed. I want to call every person I know and just cry, and then I feel like a huge baby, so I say "I'm fine". I act like I’m busy, but I’m actually only busy checking my phone for emails, texts, or calls from area code 999999999 or 0000123456.
I could complain for days and continue feeling sorry for my sad little self (LOL). But in reality, I am fine. And if my family has taught me anything, it’s that good things come with effort and persistence. Blessings may be a gift from God, but that does not mean He doesn’t expect us to earn our keeps. Aaron and I are blessed that we have a connection like none other, that our values align, that our families are supportive, that our goals don’t clash, and that our stubborn hearts won’t let us give up. It was easy to fall in love with Aaron when he was around. But I think he would agree that it has not been so easy to TRULY get to know each other… to TRULY prove our determination and faithfulness… to TRULY (Mr. Shelley would kill me for putting an adverb between “to” and all these verbs. Sorry, I just like it.) find humor and happiness in rough situations… to plan for future life events, but to claim and embrace the presence as it is…
Lord, thank you thank you thank you for this earned blessing.
I am trying really hard to stay positive. I am fine one day, and then the next, I am irritable, bitter, and sad sad sad. I try to spend time with friends and family, but I feel out of place, like I'm just biding time until I can go home and go to bed. I want to call every person I know and just cry, and then I feel like a huge baby, so I say "I'm fine". I act like I’m busy, but I’m actually only busy checking my phone for emails, texts, or calls from area code 999999999 or 0000123456.
I could complain for days and continue feeling sorry for my sad little self (LOL). But in reality, I am fine. And if my family has taught me anything, it’s that good things come with effort and persistence. Blessings may be a gift from God, but that does not mean He doesn’t expect us to earn our keeps. Aaron and I are blessed that we have a connection like none other, that our values align, that our families are supportive, that our goals don’t clash, and that our stubborn hearts won’t let us give up. It was easy to fall in love with Aaron when he was around. But I think he would agree that it has not been so easy to TRULY get to know each other… to TRULY prove our determination and faithfulness… to TRULY (Mr. Shelley would kill me for putting an adverb between “to” and all these verbs. Sorry, I just like it.) find humor and happiness in rough situations… to plan for future life events, but to claim and embrace the presence as it is…
Lord, thank you thank you thank you for this earned blessing.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Extravaganza
So I've written multiple times about my "dating extravaganzas". Eventually I will post those, because I still laugh out loud when I read them. But not tonight.
A few years ago, I ended my first REAL relationship, and it HURT badly. It was seriously as if someone died. One minute I was planning my future, white picket fence, chubby cheeked kids, 8-5 job, and who knows, maybe even some fish.
And the next I was packing my poochie Claire Francis in the front seat (along with the 1,000 items I had collected at his house... minus my precious seashells which he will still not give back) and we were on the road. I think I left him a note: "Call me if you want." For some reason, I have a ton of tolerance for people, how to approach them, how to say things politely, how to avoid hurt feelings... and then I just forget my manners. We spoke two times after that Saturday, and then basically never again. He has knocked on the door a few times, trying to forge a friendship of sorts, but honestly and sadly, when it was over, it was just OVER.
After the breakup, I started dating. I dated all sorts, had some fun times, had some TERRIBLE times, went through some DRAMATIC moments, some CATASTROPHES, a few embarassing bloopers, some very bruised egos, and lots of learned lessons.
My dating blog is a tad blunt... often a little too honest, and probably a bit inappropriate. But it was my life... I called it the "dating extravaganza", because to me, that's what it was.
Then I met Aaron. Pretty much since day #4 of knowing him (I would say day #3, but I really tried to avoid him for a week (which is actually 7 days). I liked the guy, but I was TOTALLY not done with my dating extravaganza, and he just made me a little too nervous... which makes me think I actually knew on day #1... so we'll just do a middle ground and call it day 4.), I knew my dating days were over. The extravaganza of "dudes" was no longer going to be a part of my plan. I knew that, for some reason, things were going to be a bit different from now on.
Aaron has changed my life. Like I said before, I have become an expert at pleasing people, making friends (not always good ones), and REALLY TRULY getting to know those around me. But I think that through this process, I have only learned a fraction about myself. I have made jokes, I have had temper tantrums, I have cried, I have fallen down hard, and I have picked myself back up again, over and over. And yet, through all of these very real experiences, I STILL don't think I have ever been all that true to myself.
The truth is that I am the extravaganza. According to my best friend, who we will call the "internet", the word extravaganza means "an elaborate, spectacular entertainment or display". This sounds like a pretty confident way of describing one's self, but in my case, it's just true. Let me explain:
"Elaborate" - In this setting, elaborate is used as an adjective, meaning "intricate or rich in detail, executed with painstaking attention". I will actually replace this word with my own self-created list of synonyms: corky, strange, high-maintenance, obsessive, needy, dramatic, pushy, opinionated, stubborn (jeez, I'm getting way off here.), etc. They aren't all really synonyms of elaborate, but they might as well be.
I am corky. My dog has a middle name, and I talk to her like she's a human. Because I really do think she speaks English. I do.
I am strange. I count all day long. Or type in my head. Or sing songs to words. Some sort of OCD that has never really gone away.
I am high-maintenance. I could care less about gifts, money, jewelry, or the normal things that lots of women want. But I have to be reminded constantly that I am loved. And even when I am, I sometimes ask for more. And not just loved, but liked. And wanted. And sometimes needed.
I am obsessive. I can have the messiest house in the whole world, and I don't care if my socks match. But I floss a minimum of three times a day. And if my skin is even the teeny tiniest bit dry, I will literally dump lotion all over my body because I cannot stand it.
I am needy. I don't ask for much, only that you pay me 110% attention, and think about me all the time, and call me whenever you can, and you know, attend to all my one million needs. LOL.
I am dramatic. I have a terrible temper, and God forbid I get my feelings hurt, you better be prepared to make things better or I can go on forever being angry. This characteristic scares me a lot.
I am pushy. Sometimes I really think I'm right, and even if I'm not, I'm probably going to at LEAST try to make you think I am.
I am opinionated. I was once at a dinner table where the other dinner attendees referred to me as the "dirty liberal". I will never vote conservative again. And by the way, I still put my two cents in at that table... Oops.
I am stubborn. Similar to the description above, when I think I am right, I have a hard time convincing myself to listen to what I'm being told. Even when I know I'm going down the wrong path, I pretty much have to learn the hard way or I'll just keep going and going and going...
"Spectacular entertainment or display" - This phrase is actually really intuitive to how I feel and have felt the majority of my life. Like I said, I am a people pleaser. I have always felt the need to impress, to pass, to fulfill obligations, to win, to succeed, or even just to survive.
I feel like times in my life I did a "spectacular" job with my "display". I've played all the parts: The good student. The friend. The rebel. The nerd. The fun girl looking for a party. The injured girl needing help. The vulnerable girl looking for a hero. The businesswoman. The difficult girl, full of attitude. The flirt. The playmate. The enemy. The independent one, needing nothing and no one.
I could name them off forever, but honestly, you name the part and I will play it.
I am an extravaganza... all by myself. I am sometimes one big mess. But I am who I am.
I started writing this a few weeks ago, and I'm sure I had some sort of funny story to tell with it. But tonight I am sad, and thoughtful about myself and where I am. I have met a man, who I think is wonderful, kind, loving, giving, smart, funny, protective, comforting, etc. etc. etc. He loves my little Claire Francis. He doesn't mind that I'm a bit OCD. He laughs at my mismatched socks and the crazy amount of floss lying around the house. He pays me all SORTS of attention, and shouts his love for me to the world (via Facebook of course, duh). He deals with my temper and assures me that he will still be here when I am done kicking and screaming. He lets me be bossy sometimes, but puts me in my place when I need it. He's just as stubborn as I am, but never enough to let me go.
A few years ago, I ended my first REAL relationship, and it HURT badly. It was seriously as if someone died. One minute I was planning my future, white picket fence, chubby cheeked kids, 8-5 job, and who knows, maybe even some fish.
And the next I was packing my poochie Claire Francis in the front seat (along with the 1,000 items I had collected at his house... minus my precious seashells which he will still not give back) and we were on the road. I think I left him a note: "Call me if you want." For some reason, I have a ton of tolerance for people, how to approach them, how to say things politely, how to avoid hurt feelings... and then I just forget my manners. We spoke two times after that Saturday, and then basically never again. He has knocked on the door a few times, trying to forge a friendship of sorts, but honestly and sadly, when it was over, it was just OVER.
After the breakup, I started dating. I dated all sorts, had some fun times, had some TERRIBLE times, went through some DRAMATIC moments, some CATASTROPHES, a few embarassing bloopers, some very bruised egos, and lots of learned lessons.
My dating blog is a tad blunt... often a little too honest, and probably a bit inappropriate. But it was my life... I called it the "dating extravaganza", because to me, that's what it was.
Then I met Aaron. Pretty much since day #4 of knowing him (I would say day #3, but I really tried to avoid him for a week (which is actually 7 days). I liked the guy, but I was TOTALLY not done with my dating extravaganza, and he just made me a little too nervous... which makes me think I actually knew on day #1... so we'll just do a middle ground and call it day 4.), I knew my dating days were over. The extravaganza of "dudes" was no longer going to be a part of my plan. I knew that, for some reason, things were going to be a bit different from now on.
Aaron has changed my life. Like I said before, I have become an expert at pleasing people, making friends (not always good ones), and REALLY TRULY getting to know those around me. But I think that through this process, I have only learned a fraction about myself. I have made jokes, I have had temper tantrums, I have cried, I have fallen down hard, and I have picked myself back up again, over and over. And yet, through all of these very real experiences, I STILL don't think I have ever been all that true to myself.
The truth is that I am the extravaganza. According to my best friend, who we will call the "internet", the word extravaganza means "an elaborate, spectacular entertainment or display". This sounds like a pretty confident way of describing one's self, but in my case, it's just true. Let me explain:
"Elaborate" - In this setting, elaborate is used as an adjective, meaning "intricate or rich in detail, executed with painstaking attention". I will actually replace this word with my own self-created list of synonyms: corky, strange, high-maintenance, obsessive, needy, dramatic, pushy, opinionated, stubborn (jeez, I'm getting way off here.), etc. They aren't all really synonyms of elaborate, but they might as well be.
I am corky. My dog has a middle name, and I talk to her like she's a human. Because I really do think she speaks English. I do.
I am strange. I count all day long. Or type in my head. Or sing songs to words. Some sort of OCD that has never really gone away.
I am high-maintenance. I could care less about gifts, money, jewelry, or the normal things that lots of women want. But I have to be reminded constantly that I am loved. And even when I am, I sometimes ask for more. And not just loved, but liked. And wanted. And sometimes needed.
I am obsessive. I can have the messiest house in the whole world, and I don't care if my socks match. But I floss a minimum of three times a day. And if my skin is even the teeny tiniest bit dry, I will literally dump lotion all over my body because I cannot stand it.
I am needy. I don't ask for much, only that you pay me 110% attention, and think about me all the time, and call me whenever you can, and you know, attend to all my one million needs. LOL.
I am dramatic. I have a terrible temper, and God forbid I get my feelings hurt, you better be prepared to make things better or I can go on forever being angry. This characteristic scares me a lot.
I am pushy. Sometimes I really think I'm right, and even if I'm not, I'm probably going to at LEAST try to make you think I am.
I am opinionated. I was once at a dinner table where the other dinner attendees referred to me as the "dirty liberal". I will never vote conservative again. And by the way, I still put my two cents in at that table... Oops.
I am stubborn. Similar to the description above, when I think I am right, I have a hard time convincing myself to listen to what I'm being told. Even when I know I'm going down the wrong path, I pretty much have to learn the hard way or I'll just keep going and going and going...
"Spectacular entertainment or display" - This phrase is actually really intuitive to how I feel and have felt the majority of my life. Like I said, I am a people pleaser. I have always felt the need to impress, to pass, to fulfill obligations, to win, to succeed, or even just to survive.
I feel like times in my life I did a "spectacular" job with my "display". I've played all the parts: The good student. The friend. The rebel. The nerd. The fun girl looking for a party. The injured girl needing help. The vulnerable girl looking for a hero. The businesswoman. The difficult girl, full of attitude. The flirt. The playmate. The enemy. The independent one, needing nothing and no one.
I could name them off forever, but honestly, you name the part and I will play it.
I am an extravaganza... all by myself. I am sometimes one big mess. But I am who I am.
I started writing this a few weeks ago, and I'm sure I had some sort of funny story to tell with it. But tonight I am sad, and thoughtful about myself and where I am. I have met a man, who I think is wonderful, kind, loving, giving, smart, funny, protective, comforting, etc. etc. etc. He loves my little Claire Francis. He doesn't mind that I'm a bit OCD. He laughs at my mismatched socks and the crazy amount of floss lying around the house. He pays me all SORTS of attention, and shouts his love for me to the world (via Facebook of course, duh). He deals with my temper and assures me that he will still be here when I am done kicking and screaming. He lets me be bossy sometimes, but puts me in my place when I need it. He's just as stubborn as I am, but never enough to let me go.
And he is an extravaganza as well. He is just as complicated, just as needy, just as strange, just as opinionated, just as high-maintenance as I am. He is a people pleaser, never wanting to disappoint anyone. He's fearful of what other people think, just like I am. He makes his own way and his own decisions, whether they are good or bad, just like I do. He has lived and experienced, and probably had a few catastrophes, bloopers, bruised egos, dramatic events, and heartbreaks, just like I have.
And I love him so much. We are going to struggle. And fight. And butt heads. And lose tempers. And get irritated. But at the end of the day, I still never want to date again. I have no other boundaries to break. Or personalities to pick apart. Or dorky "dudes" to make fun of.
I met Aaron, and on day #4 I knew. I am okay. 
And I love him so much. We are going to struggle. And fight. And butt heads. And lose tempers. And get irritated. But at the end of the day, I still never want to date again. I have no other boundaries to break. Or personalities to pick apart. Or dorky "dudes" to make fun of.
I met Aaron, and on day #4 I knew. I am okay.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Oh Yeah... I'm Engaged!
Uhm... So obviously I've been slacking for a good nine months... No, I did not crawl into a hole and sleep. Yes, I have had PLENTY of funny, akward, sad, happy, life changing, AMAZING things happen to me. And yet I have not written a THING down.
So maybe I'll give it just a tiny bit of effort. We'll just start with a "Top 5" and see where it goes from there:
1) I am getting married. In ONE WEEK. Yes, I said it. The girl that chooses guys who are a-holes, only so that she has NO chance of actually liking them, therefore avoiding any REAL pain. The girl who deletes people from her phone because they have a spout of bad breath. The girl that actually nicknames according to country of origin... not because she thinks it's cute, but because she can't ever seem to remember the current guy's name. LOL. That girl has met her match, and SHE'S GETTING MARRIED! I have plenty plenty plenty to say about this, so I'll let it wait until I'm feeling more creative juices. Let's just say I fell in love on day #4. He has been known to be an a-hole. He sometimes has very stinky breath. And he has the SAME name as me (would totally be a deal breaker in normal circumstances). But he's wonderful. I love love love him. Triple love. The love that makes my heart hurt. I am so happy.
2) My FIANCE is going to Iraq. What the f.
3) My parents adopted ANOTHER child. Friggin crazy stuff, I tell you. They never sleep. They have baby locks on EVERYTHING... locks that I can NEVER figure out. They constantly get puked on. They clean up toys all day long. They suffer kicks and hits and even bites. But their house is full of love and joy. So amazing to be a part of. I visit often these days, partly because my future husband is sweating away in the desert... and partly because I feel like I'm going to blink my eyes, and they'll be all grown up. I love my family.
4) My baby brother is having a baby (Obviously HE will not be the one doing the pushing, but his girlfriend Ali is having a little baby girl in September). I am happy and sad for them all at the same time. They are excited and doing their best. They have a gorgeous house. Ali takes immaculate care of herself and the baby. Sam does EVERYTHING in his power to make her happy and comfortable. But they are so young it just breaks my heart. They are bratty, and I get so mad at them I could cry... and then they do the most sweet, adult, wonderful things, and I'm crying again. I'm really struggling with this one. Wish I wasn't. I just pray pray pray they are okay.
5) Hmmmm... I kind of ran out of things I guess. I'm looking for a job at the moment. Decided I was going to be some lifesaving doctor... then decided that I hated Science classes (which I've actually known since Mr. Jungmeyer's dumb Biology class) and quit. Item #1 on my list has made me rethink my priorities just a tiny bit... and I don't regret it a second. So I'm back on the job market. Boring way to end my list lol.
More to come.
-Erin
So maybe I'll give it just a tiny bit of effort. We'll just start with a "Top 5" and see where it goes from there:
1) I am getting married. In ONE WEEK. Yes, I said it. The girl that chooses guys who are a-holes, only so that she has NO chance of actually liking them, therefore avoiding any REAL pain. The girl who deletes people from her phone because they have a spout of bad breath. The girl that actually nicknames according to country of origin... not because she thinks it's cute, but because she can't ever seem to remember the current guy's name. LOL. That girl has met her match, and SHE'S GETTING MARRIED! I have plenty plenty plenty to say about this, so I'll let it wait until I'm feeling more creative juices. Let's just say I fell in love on day #4. He has been known to be an a-hole. He sometimes has very stinky breath. And he has the SAME name as me (would totally be a deal breaker in normal circumstances). But he's wonderful. I love love love him. Triple love. The love that makes my heart hurt. I am so happy.
2) My FIANCE is going to Iraq. What the f.
3) My parents adopted ANOTHER child. Friggin crazy stuff, I tell you. They never sleep. They have baby locks on EVERYTHING... locks that I can NEVER figure out. They constantly get puked on. They clean up toys all day long. They suffer kicks and hits and even bites. But their house is full of love and joy. So amazing to be a part of. I visit often these days, partly because my future husband is sweating away in the desert... and partly because I feel like I'm going to blink my eyes, and they'll be all grown up. I love my family.
4) My baby brother is having a baby (Obviously HE will not be the one doing the pushing, but his girlfriend Ali is having a little baby girl in September). I am happy and sad for them all at the same time. They are excited and doing their best. They have a gorgeous house. Ali takes immaculate care of herself and the baby. Sam does EVERYTHING in his power to make her happy and comfortable. But they are so young it just breaks my heart. They are bratty, and I get so mad at them I could cry... and then they do the most sweet, adult, wonderful things, and I'm crying again. I'm really struggling with this one. Wish I wasn't. I just pray pray pray they are okay.
5) Hmmmm... I kind of ran out of things I guess. I'm looking for a job at the moment. Decided I was going to be some lifesaving doctor... then decided that I hated Science classes (which I've actually known since Mr. Jungmeyer's dumb Biology class) and quit. Item #1 on my list has made me rethink my priorities just a tiny bit... and I don't regret it a second. So I'm back on the job market. Boring way to end my list lol.
More to come.
-Erin
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