Twenty-Nine, Thirty, Thirty-one . . .

I'll be 31 in a little over two months.  Turning 30 was not a big deal to me and I didn't do any soul searching about what the hell am I doing with my life, what is my path, and will I ever get married/have kids/find the right career/etc.  I've got the big stuff figured out and nailed down.  Married - check.  Child - check.  House - check.  Meaningful and loving relationships with friends and family - check. Stay at home mom as a career - awesome check.

As I approached 30, and after the day came and went, I started to think about the little things about myself.  Things that in my 20s I would do/say/act/pretend(!) because it was beneficial to life and school/career and relationships.

#1 on the list was socializing with others.  Believe it or not, I am not an overly social person.  I love meeting new people, visiting with friends and family, going out and about and attending events and parties.  But . . . I like doing it on my own terms.  M and I have parties and get togethers and it's always a blast and I'm totally comfortable.  I make the rules, set the tone, and invite who I want.

My husband is involved with several organizations that require a lot of wining and dining and kiss-assing.  I like wining.  A lot.  And dining.  But, once again, on my own terms (apparently I also like wHining).  I am almost always a good sport and go along with M to whatever he has to do and force myself to be social. The events usually end up being quite tolerable, if not fun.  After some wining and dining (more so the wining), I am more comfortable and feel more at ease to play nicely with others.

Approaching 30, I decided I don't have to get my anxiety in a tizzy because of a social event.  I am who I am.  After becoming a mom, I became more accustomed to my own skin.  Not the skin other people think I should be wearing, or even the skin I think I should be wearing for the situation.  Which leads me to #2 on my list.

Judging others. 

We all judge others in one way or another.  I rarely judge based on looks/dress/career/etc.  Usually it's personality.  There are personalities I instantly click with.  And then theres's the personalities that leave me with welts on my tongue. . 

So people end up in one of three categories in the Rolodex in my brain:
1. I like/love you and want to be your BFF forever and ever and ever. Amen.
2. I tolerate you and/or I am going to have to meet you again to see which category you belong.
3. I hate you.  Don't look at me. 

Now let's realize that while you may fall in Category 2 or 3, I will outwardly show you kindness and respect like those in Category 1.  I'm not a total bitch.

The problem that arises when putting your card in my mental Rolodex is that sometimes it goes in the wrong place.  For example, Category 1, over time, ends up a Category 3.  And vice versa. I have lived through both scenarios several times.  On almost all accounts, it was an issue of mistaken personality identity, for instance at a social event where beer/wine make you look fine, and liquor makes you friends quicker.  Or they are super confident the first time you meet, but then you come to find out they are actually super needy.  Talk about awkward.  I've been on both sides and both are equally shitty.

Thirty has taught me to be ME.  If you don't like me, that's okay.  Really, it is.  But get to know me first.  You may be surprised. Or dissapointed.  Or delighted.  Or horrified.  I don't know.  But, I promise you'll get the real me.  Not the me I thought I had to be in the situation we were in.  And I guarantee I'll give you the same respect.

Thirty is good. I think thirty-one will be even better. 

Back to blogging . . .

I've been considering getting back into blogging. I do enjoy it and now that J is older, I have more time to blog. Also, I hit the big 3-0 this year and the milestone has prompted some self reflection. Hope those of you following will continue following!

Bad guys, happy guys and the Bible

For the past year, J has been very fond of any story, movie, television show, or imaginative play involving bad guys and "happy" (good) guys. Although we've read the Bible almost everyday since he was about 1, it wasn't until recently that he's really become interested in the stories. Daniel and the Lion's Den, Samson, and Jonah and the Big Fish have been favorites since day 1. Now, the story of the crucifixion, Adam and Eve, Noah's Ark, David and Goliath, and Moses have become more interesting, and we read them several times a day in addition to the regular two or three stories we read daily. J can retell many of the stories (although sometimes he uses bears or pirates as the characters since he can't remember all the proper names).

This past week J has been interested in the story of Adam and Eve and, more particularly, Satan. He comprehends that Satan is "bad" and tricked Eve, and thus Adam, into eating the apple. But the thought that Satan "exists" in the world today is a foreign idea to J. When we talk about Satan, he says "Satan is in the book Mommy, not here in our house. Or even out there" (in the yard/neighborhood). I always respond with "sure he is. He makes people do bad things." J is adamant that there are no bad people around here. I've been thinking about how to convince him that Satan is very much real and very much present in the world around us.

And then I realized I don't have to. In his short 3.5 years, J hasn't come across anyone or anything bad. He is loved by his family and friends, has a happy, stable homelife, and has never seen or been on the receiving end of anything unkind. His world starts in our house and extends as far away as where my parents live (half an hour from our house). He thinks they live "far away". My parent's house and Florida could be the same place. They're both "far away".

Wars around the globe. Murder. Child abuse. He neither sees, nor hears about these events. And he doesn't need to know. There are far too many children (and adults), who see the workings of Satan every.single.day. of their lives. If I could keep J in a bubble his whole life, and blow and direct the bubble toward only the good, fun, happy, successful things to experience, I would do it in a heartbeat. Yeah, 'you have to know the bad to know the good'. That's fine for me, but not for my baby.

You know what? You're right, J. Satan only exists as a snake in the Bible. For now. And when you're a little older, a little wiser in the ways of the world, we'll talk. For today, and tomorrow, and maybe even for the next few years: your world is perfect. I'll keep watch with my mommy powers, making sure no bad comes to you. Someday you'll have to put on your own armor and fight your own fight against Satan and the world.

But today? Today, let's play superheroes and save the world.

It's a Wonderful Life

I didn't title my blog It's A Wonderful Life because of the movie. Nope, it's because I consider my life to be pretty wonderful. It's only 9 am and already I love how this day is going. Here are some highlights:

*J wakes me up around 7:30, talking a mile a minute about how he's going to put the Nintendo DS in my purse, how he's cold, and how he's going to get clothes out of his dresser.

*J leaves my room, then comes back a few minutes later with some random clothes in his hands. He puts on his underwear, and then holds up the pants he picked out. Except it's a shirt. "A shirt? Oh yeah, it's a shirt. Need pants.", he said to no one but himself, and he ran back to his bedroom.

*J returns to put on his Elmo print pajama bottoms to 'match' his pirate t-shirt and then finishes off the outfit with a green sock and a blue sock.

*We come downstairs and I let the cat in the house from it's halfway house in the garage (that's a whole 'nother post for another day).

*J sits down to eat his cereal and the cat jumps up on the chair with him. The dog is none too pleased because he is the one who gets the scraps. And being that he's 80 lbs, he can't get a whole lot closer than sitting right beside J's chair. Dog glares at cat.

*J, who thinks the cat is getting a little too close while he's eating, keeps saying "no-no kitty. down kitty" and then kisses it on its head everytime he puts it back down on the floor.

*The cat loves our dog, our dog tolerates (but secretly loves) the cat, and J loves to chase and be chased by the cat and the dog. Chaos ensues.

*The dog chases the cat and gets too close to it and rolls it over. The cat jumps up and smacks the dogs nose with his paw. Dog looks shocked.

*Jack chases cat. Dog chases Jack and cat. I sit at the kitchen table with my laptop. Pure bliss!

It really is a wonderful life!!

Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened. -Dr. Seuss

What a great quote! My cousin posted this on Facebook today as her status and I absolutely love it! It's a great way to look at the ups and downs of life.

I am a planner. I make lists and more lists and lists of lists to make. In fact, before our week long beach vacation, I had 10 different lists going. Planning = good. But it also means that after a big event that I look forward to for weeks and months on end, I am letdown when it's over. No more planning and getting excited. Just back to everyday life.

Our vacation has come and gone. On our last day at the beach my husband and I stood together looking out at the ocean. I said, "Goodbye ocean. At least til we meet again at another time and another place." My husband just laughed and said, "uhhh, goodbye ocean. I guess." He apparently doesn't know that the ocean can hear you and looks forward to your return. I will admit that as excited as I was to get home and see our furry child who I missed very much, I was sad to be leaving the beach and ending our vacation.

But, I reminded myself that there will be plenty more vacations. And we can always come back to this exact spot.

I didn't cry because it was over, I smiled because it happened. It's the seasons of life. You look forward to it, you live it, you look back on it. Sometimes the cycle happens in days, sometimes it's a lifetime.

But keep smiling!

Mother Nature

I got my toes in the water, ass in the sand
Not a worry in the world, a cold beer in my hand
Life is good today, life is good today

This week we've been on vacation at the beach. I have watched my little boy feel the power of the ocean as it pulls and pushes against him. I have watched his eyes light up with excitement with one wave, and his eyes darken with fear of the next.

Mother Nature is not to be fooled with.

This week, the beach has been kind of crazy. Due to thunderstorms and a tropical storm out at sea, the water is unseasonably cold and the surf is very, very rough. We are in the Outer Banks, and apparently where we are there is a convergence of currents. So not only do the waves come at you head on, but also from the sides. It takes all your strength to stay upright when the waves hit you.

Yesterday, jellyfish invaded the beaches. There were hundreds of them laying on the beach and more in the waves. We stayed away for fear of getting stung (even though most of them were probably already dead from the strength of the surf).

I love the beach. I love the roar of the waves, the warmth of the sun, the push and pull of the water around my body and the feel of the sand sticking to my sunscreen clad body. I love watching my son and husband digging holes and building sandcastles in the warm sand.

But there are dangers: rip currents, sharks, jellyfish, getting swept out to sea. But such is Mother Nature. She gives us the beauty of the earth, the circle of life, babies (mammalian and otherswise) and seasons filled with colors and smells that thrill the soul.

She also gives up hurricanes, tornadoes, death and famine. It is a double edged sword that we both love and hate, depending upon the day.

As I played with my son in the waves, I encouraged him to have fun, but never, ever turn your back to the ocean. It will get you every time you let your guard down.

And such is life.

Western Pennsylvania. Beautiful scenery. Rich heritage. Neighborly people. Not much to do when you're a teenager.



Throughout my early to mid-teens, I was convinced that when I was old enough, I was going to move to California. Why California? I don't know. We all know the mess it's in currently and the problems that constantly plague the state. I think it had something to do with the Cosmopolitan and Seventeen magazines that came to my house each month, shoving down my throat svelte teenage girls and muscular teenage boys having fun playing volleyball on the beach and attending great parties. So, if I could move to California, I could have fun like that too. And be thin like that. And have a boyfriend like that. Don't judge me.



In my mid teens, I looked at Univ of California You-Name-It. Too expensive. Too far. Blah. Well then, graduate school and/or a job could be in California. I'd graduate from a PA university, then move to California.



Then a magical thing happened. I met and fell in love with a boy whose was also born and raised in Western Pennsylvania. And he was perfectly happy staying in Western Pennsylvania. Well, HOT DAMN, so was I. Cali-what? Never heard of the place.

We both attended and graduated from a Western Pennsylvania university, got married, moved into a house aboutthisfar from where hubby grew up, and worked in (you guessed it!) Western Pennsylvania. By this point California was very, very far from my mind. We were making our lives here and I was very happy.

In September of 2007, we had our son, J. He will be a born and bred Western Pennsylvania boy.

A few night ago, I sat in the grass in the backyard watching J and M play. I glanced around at the trees and the hills. Good ole' Pennsylvania. And then I glanced around at what was closer to me - the barn where we've just recently started a collection of animals, the pond where we swim and play, our house that we love, the swingset where Jack love to swing 'as high as the sky' as he giggles uncontrollably, and a yard that allows our son to run and play.

This is our Pennsylvania. This is our life. There is no where we'd rather be. Our family's roots run deep in Western Pennsylvania, and now M and I are adding and spreading out those roots further.

I expect the day to come that one of my children will say, "Mom, it's so BOOOOORING around here. I can't wait until I grow up and move away." And I'll go pack their bags. And my heart will hurt a little. But, deep down I'll know that this region will ALWAYS be his home and his heart.