It's an anti-blogging conspiracy

The universe doesn't want me to blog today.  Usually I sit down to write in the 9 o'clock hour but I was being lazy because I've been sick.  So sat down to write in the 3 o'clock hour.  That's my back-up blogging time because Marshall is napping and Bishop is usually playing video games if he didn't get in trouble that day.  I turned my computer on and it decided to do a lengthy update that took, and I'm not exaggerating, a full hour!  By the time it was done, nap time was over and both boys were crying at me because they weren't getting their snack the split second they wanted it.  So now it's approaching 6 o'clock which is a terrible time for blogging because I have, no joke, stood up at least 3 times to mediate squabbles while typing this paragraph.  This is most high energy time of day and I need some semblance of quiet to concentrate on writing.  Now all I can think about is how annoying my kids are being and not any real topics.  This is why parent bloggers only talk about their kids.  It's hard to think about anything else. 

Marshall is 3 now!  Just like last birthday, he wasn't very happy about it.  Every time someone told him he was turning 3, he shook his head no.  Then when we sang him happy birthday, he walked into the other room right in the middle of the song.  I guess that's an improvement from last year when he started crying.  He's definitely an introvert.  The evidence continues to mount.  I'll just have to teach him everything I know.  I should probably get him a cat to bond with.  That's introversion 101: cats are your best friend. 

Anyway, I'm gonna wrap this up.  There's a constant stream of chatter coming from my right side.  Zero guesses which one it is.  It's Bishop. 

Hype Man

I didn't blog last week.  I was depressed.  But now the cloud has passed and I'm feeling like myself again, except for a minor cold.  That's almost gone too.  I told John about the depressing thoughts I was having and he agreed that those thoughts were, in fact, depressing and that made me feel a little better.  Sharing always helps even if the problems don't get solved.  It's nice to know that other people worry about the same stuff I do.  We're all in this together. 

Marshall has been getting better at talking.  It's adorable and sometimes confusing because he's so confident about what he wants to say but I have no idea what it is.  He's also recently started a very annoying habit.  Mumbling.  Honestly I can't believe I didn't see it coming.  He acts so much like me and my primary form of communication used to be mumbling.  I managed to break that habit when I started dating John because he's 30% deaf.  Hopefully this habit doesn't stick around.  Maybe having a deaf father and a loud brother will break him out of it early.  If not, I'll probably have to translate for him for the rest of my life.  So far, I speak Marshall the best.  Or maybe Bishop speaks it better than me.  He never seems to have an issue.  Also I'm pretty sure Marshall learns most of his words from Bishop.  He's a little echo.  Or back up singer.  He's everybody's hype man. 

Sometimes you just need a new perspective

Tuesday?

It's Tuesday and I feel totally uninspired.  I had to pay bills today and on top of that, I started doing taxes as well so all of my creativity burrowed deep inside me to hide like a.... naked mole rat?  I don't really know what those are but I assume they burrow into the ground.  And that's where my creativity went: deep into the dark places of my brain while the irritated business number crunchers marched out of the prison cell I keep them in to preserve my sanity.  The prison is guarded by glow sticks and rave music.  And soft fluffy kittens.  Everything number crunchers hate so they stay in their cell. 

And now the tiny bit of creativity that I managed to squeeze out for that metaphor has been interrupted by a 5 year old who doesn't know how to do time out.  Ugh.  I give up. 

Marshall Trap

I'm pretty sure I've blogged before about the infamous "Angela Trap".  It's basically any cat I come across outside that lets me pet it.  John noted very early in our relationship that if someone wanted to trap me, all it would take is a friendly cat and I'd be gone.  So every cat I randomly come across is an "Angela Trap".  Today I realized they are also "Marshall Traps".  He has inherited my absolute need to pet any cat that holds still for 2 seconds.  We've been coming across an adorable orange cat recently that lives somewhere in our complex and it is very difficult to get Marshall to focus and continue walking when we come across him.  And to make matters worse, I've officially retired the monkey leash so I often have to grab his hand to drag him away from the trap.  And he's chased the cat into a few bushes.  Probably under some cars.  It's like he has magnets in his hands.  It's adorable.  And frustrating cause we got places to be. 

It's interesting to see the behaviors I'm passing on.  Most of mine are going to Marshall.  He loves stuffies.  And Moana.  And cats and cuddling and making faces at when people tell him he's cute.  He even loves pink.  He's a mini-me. 

This is the only picture I've managed to get of the trap.  The other times I was too busy petting him.

Decor

Christmas is officially over in our apartment.  Our tree finally came down this weekend.  It would have come down earlier but John was sick AND doing overtime.  And I'm not tall enough.  I bought a 9 foot tree which makes me pretty useless at assembly/ disassembly.  I've tried to use the word "desembly" a few times before figuring out it's not a word.  I feel like it should be.  Maybe if I use it enough, it will become a word.  That's how it works right? 

Anyway, my point is, our apartment is now sad and decoration-less.  I mean besides the family picture wall and Game of Thrones banners.  Maybe I should add some more decor.  Except every time I start a project, it never gets finished.  I have so many craft supplies and barely finished projects in my room.  I need a crafting partner.  I'm terrible at self-motivation. 

We replaced our Christmas tree with a coat tree.  It looks a lot neater in here now that our sweaters aren't all over the desk and coach.  And now that the kids have bunk beds, it looks like we actually fit in this apartment instead of being stuffed in with all our oversized beds.  It's still pretty messy though.  Doesn't matter how much room we have, that'll never change.  We are not neat people. 

Believer

So originally I had planned to write something deeply profound and personal but then I saw a movie yesterday and thought "I want to write about that!"  Personal stuff will have to wait.  How long?  Depends on how long I can distract myself and find other topics to write about.  Writing personal stuff is hard.  I believe its important but it's not easy.  On to distract-ier things!  Yes spellcheck, I know that's not a word.  Don't stifle my creativity! 

The topic of the movie is pretty serious, it just has nothing to do with my personal experience.  Although I can relate to the protagonist.  It was a documentary called 'Believer' about Dan Reynolds struggle to create an atmosphere of acceptance in the Mormon community regarding LGBTQ individuals.  Reynolds is the lead singer of the rock band Imagine Dragons.  They're kind of a big deal. 

I had heard before I watched this movie about Reynolds doing the Love Loud festival and speaking out for gay rights.  What surprised me the most was just how completely Mormon he is.  I guess I just assume whenever I hear about the religion of any rock star that they don't actually care about their religion.  I imagine someone who was raised a certain way and then branches out into the world and then disregards their beliefs or holds onto those beliefs in a marginal way.  Dan Reynolds grew up a devout Mormon in Utah and still defines himself with those beliefs. 

He talks about how at first he saw gay rights as not his problem.  It didn't affect him, it wasn't his fight.  I remember thinking the same thing when I was high school age when my feelings conflicted with what was written in scripture.  Something didn't feel right but who was I to go against the word of God?  Then Reynolds started to see how the church doctrine affected his brothers and sisters who were gay and struggling to be faithful.  Many of those struggles ended in suicide.  That must be the loneliest place in the world.  To feel so completely isolated and rejected that you don't even want to be alive.  It's painful to even imagine someone feeling this way. 

So he used his fame to do something about it.  To show those who are struggling that they are not alone.  To change enough minds and make enough noise to change church doctrine.  It's an inspiring story about someone willing to follow God and having the courage to break the rules even if it means excommunication. 

I think a lot of faith communities can learn from his story.  I think a lot of Christians feel the way Reynolds did in the beginning: uneasy about exclusion but afraid to break the rules and get kicked out of the only community they've ever known.  My personal journey seems downright easy compared to this.  Faith is much more individualistic where I live and we church hopped somewhat when I was growing up.  I have the luxury of staying in my community and going to a church that's openly accepting of LBGTQ.  The feeling of inclusiveness I feel there is unlike anything I've ever experienced in my life.  Even though I'm not gay, I'm able to be the most authentic I've ever been inside a church.  I'm able to stand before God with no filters or masks.  It is a freedom that is nothing short of divine. 

This is my prayer for churches everywhere: for freedom, inclusion, and complete authenticity.  That is where God lives. 

PS - This took a very personal turn.  Maybe I am ready to write that personally profound blog. 

Post-holiday

Vacation is officially over.  Bishop went back to school today.  Now I get to wake up early and hang out with Marshall all day.  His vocabulary is expanding every day.  Soon I'll have a formidable conversation partner.  We can have philosophical debates.  Or talk about poop.  Kids seem to enjoy gross topics.  Bishops about 50/50 between extremely curious and saying everything has poop on it. 

We got the kids bunk beds for Christmas.  Yesterday we dissembled the queen bed and it was like Christmas morning all over again.  There were toys under there they probably haven't seen since we moved in here.  Also one of Marshall's missing bottles that was probably growing something toxic and a pile of baby wipes Marshall threw behind the bed at some point.  I'm so glad the bunk beds are light enough to move around so we can clean under the bed more than once every 2 years.  Kids are gross.  Just like their sense of humor.  This is exactly why God made them so goddamn cute. 

So for Christmas, the only thing Bishop asked for was a lego x-wing.  Since his list of demands was so small, I wanted to make sure he got it.  But the full size lego x-wing is a little expensive for something a 5 year old will be playing with and probably losing all the pieces within a few weeks.  So I decided to get him the small one for under $10 and hope it was good enough.  I also got him a small lego millennium falcon and a small lego spider-man set just in case he was disappointed with the small x-wing.  So Christmas morning he opens his tiny lego x-wing and he jumps up and down and says "It's exactly what I wanted!".  Blew my mind.  And thank God I didn't get the bigger one.  He probably would have loved it but it would have been such a waste.  I'm so glad he was happy with what he got.  I love seeing that little jerk excited. 

Last night was their first night on the bunk beds.  Here they are settling in. 

Marshall's hiding in the shadows

Light-sabers

So I was looking for inspiration about what to write today.  I browsed through my documents on google drive and found a something titled "subject list".  It was from a more ambitious time when Kris and I were going to write about certain topics every week.  We literally never got started.  But I did write down some random subjects to write about.  The flashiest on the list was light-sabers!  I was probably watching my son destroy the apartment with a light-saber when I came up with that list.  Everything else was boring. 

Anyway, after Bishop broke a light bulb in his room with his toy light-saber, it was confiscated.  I'm pretty sure he had broken something else before that and there was way too many near misses.  Just seeing him holding it was enough to put my anxiety through the roof.  He's probably gonna be in therapy like 20 years from now talking about how his parents never let him have light-sabers and he'll have a whole room in his house that's just ceiling to floor light-sabers and swords.  At least he'll be protected against Emperor Palpatine.  No Sith will be safe in that house.  It's a good thing we took his toy light-saber away so he hoards them later.  Now I know he'll be protected as an adult.  As we all know, Sith attack is the number one threat to adulthood. 

Ironically, one of the other subjects on that list was "Being an Adult".  Bishop is going to be an interesting adult.  I honestly can't wait to see it.  I mean I can wait, cause he's my baby and I want him to stay that way as long as possible, but it will also be fun to watch him grow up.  Picking his brain is already one of my favorite activities.  He has some crazy ideas about how things work. 

It's the Holidays

I want to be excited about it but I haven't finished my shopping yet.  I remember when I used to have finals and term papers due this time of year.  That was awful.  Thank god that's over with. 

I'm having trouble writing today.  My thoughts are just everywhere except any suitable topic.  My brain is like "topic? no, lets think about all this personal stuff you can't share about!"  And I'm over here like "Brain!  I said I was gonna post every Tuesday!  Don't make me a liar!"  But I guess my brain doesn't really care so I'm just stuck here arguing with myself. 

By the way, the 'personal stuff' has nothing to do with John.  I feel like every time someone talks about non-specific personal issues, you assume it's the spouse first.  I mean it makes sense because that's the person you spend the most time with so the odds are higher that it's them, but it's not.  John is a perfect human being that can do no wrong and I will fight anyone who says otherwise.  Including John.  Because I know he'll disagree with me but he's wrong. 

So now that I've argued with myself and some fictional person who theoretically wants to fight me, I've run out of people to argue with.  I need a Kris.  She's really good at arguing.  I'm actually looking forward to my kids being teenagers.  I feel like they'll be really good at arguing about nonsense.  That's all I really need in life.  Real arguments make me uncomfortable, but nonsense arguments are the best.  That's seems like a good place to end.  My brain is spent. 

Not Shy

I was recently contemplating my "shyness".  I put it in quotes because I'm not entirely sure what being shy entails and I'm not quite sure it accurately describes my social nature.  I feel like everyone has a different definition of exactly what it means.  I don't think the word technically applies to me but considering the number of times I've been asked "why are you so quiet?" in my lifetime, I'm sure there are many people who see me as 'shy'.  I suppose I could look up a definition and settle the matter but that won't stop people from thinking I'm shy in real life.  It's not like every time someone points out how shy I am I pull a dictionary out of my pocket to correct their terminology and offer them a more appropriate word to describe myself.  That would involve engaging in conversation and I don't do that because I'm.... a quiet person. 

I actually did figure out the heart of the issue.  The key lies in drama class.  I've always enjoyed acting.  Even when I was terrified to stand on stage and perform, I still volunteered for plays.  It's like some invisible force was pushing me into these uncomfortable situations.  Then at some point between middle school and high school, I started to enjoy the adrenaline rush of being on stage.  I loved being in drama club.  It was one of the biggest anomalies of my life, to be so quiet and practically invisible at my small high school but jump at the chance to perform in front of an audience.  But there was one part of drama club I did not enjoy.  I absolutely hated Freeze. 

For those who didn't go to my high school and take drama, Freeze is a game where everyone stands in a circle with 2 actors in the middle.  They improvise a scene until someone yells 'freeze'.  Then both people freeze and the new person chooses an actor to tag out and they take their place and start a new scene.  The only time I ever played it is when the drama teacher would yell freeze and then insert me into the scene.  Then I had to come with a scenario on the spot.  Sound familiar?  This is what real life conversations are like except way less scripted than real life.  You could be anyone, anywhere, any time and it was terrifying.  As many of you know, I am terrible at making decisions.  The less meaningful the decision, the harder it is to make and 30 seconds of make-believe in drama class is one of the most meaningless decisions I can think of.  I'd rather be walking around the school naked, on the way to take a test I didn't study for than come up with 30 seconds of make-believe with someone I barely talk to in real life. 

So that is the heart of my issue: improvisation.  That's why I love writing so much.  There no one here judging what I'm writing as I type it and I can proof read before anyone sees it.  But real conversations require a lot of improv.  Yeah, society provides us with a small script sometimes but it's taken me years to learn that so you can just imagine how awkward my teenage years were.  I don't mind being seen or heard when I have a script.  I'm not afraid of people noticing me or paying attention to me.  I'm afraid of people expecting me to say something when I have nothing to say. 

This is also why I suck at class discussions.  By the time I formulate something worth saying, the conversation has usually moved in a different direction.  I need time to think and ponder what I want to say and usually people want an answer right away. 

And that's why I'm not shy.  I don't know what to call it.  Bad a improv.  There should be a word for that. 

Honesty

Today it's raining and Bishop isn't allowed to watch TV.  I just spent about 30 minutes doing dishes while answering a constant barrage of questions.  Theoretically, Bishop should now know how the clean/ dirty sign works and why you can freeze applesauce and yogurt but not cheese but I guarantee he will ask me those questions again.  It's not enough for him to hear an answer to a question; he has to make sure that answer stands the test of time and that every person will give him the same answer. 

The reason he can't watch TV is because yesterday I walked out of my room to find him with a mouth full of Rice Krispy.  Then as soon as he could talk, he proudly told me that he ate 5 of them.  It's a weird feeling as a parent to be mad but also proud that your child is so honest.  He would make a terrible criminal.  Which is a huge compliment.  Then ironically while I was explaining what he did to a friend, I could hear him making a ruckus in the bathroom and called out to him.  It went exactly like this:

"Bishop"

"I dropped my toothpaste in the toilet"

If he hadn't told me, I probably would never have known because it flushed with no problems.  I would have just assumed it got lost somewhere. 

*sigh* I love that little jerk so much. 

I Did Follow Through!

I know I said I would blog every Tuesday but last week didn't count for.... reasons.  And then today I thought "Maybe I'll start next week" but I realized Bishop doesn't have school next week which is when I said I would take my breaks from blogging so I thought "I better do it now before I slack off too much and this whole thing crashes and burns before it even gets off the ground".  So here I am, showing up to my self-imposed obligations.  I would be so proud of me!  I AM so proud of me.  I'm right here, I can just ask myself questions whenever I want.  And I do all time because my brain is an unstoppable question machine.  Is it any wonder that I made Bishop, who can literally not stop asking questions?  I like to blame John for his boisterous personality (I mean it's partially his fault) but his questioning nature is all me.  Bishop is what you would hear if I ever bothered to tell anyone what I was thinking about.  Except the questions would be more age appropriate.  But when I was 5, I was asking all the same questions in my head and just making up my own answers I guess.  I also have a very active imagination.  One time, my classmate told me that one of the bus drivers got fired and I legit thought she was dead.  Like "You're bad at your job, we're gonna fire you out of this cannon.  Goodbye" and I was terrified about getting fired until I saw her a few weeks later and thought to myself "she didn't get fired, she's right there." 

Am I getting off topic?  Was there a topic to begin with?  It has been 13 days since I blogged so I guess my mind is just full of rambly thoughts that I haven't had a chance to share with anyone.  Or maybe I just feel amped up right now cause I've had a busy day.  I did one whole thing.  If you use the introvert conversion, that's like a million things.  Also that one thing I did involved me talking for an hour so you can convert that to 10 million things.  I did 100 million things today.  And I'm still blogging.  And now I'm done.  See you in 2 weeks. 

PS - I just proof read this before posting and it was LOADED with mistakes.  Not spelling mistakes, because spell check catches that stuff right away but like "you missed a whole word" type mistakes and I originally wrote conversation instead of conversion.  Totally different meaning.