28 August 2009

Sometimes I truly ache for another child. I've been thinking a lot about adoption lately, the thought of taking a child out of a confusing, hopeless, depressing situation (read: orphanage in an underdeveloped country) and giving that little one love, trust, a family, an education, and the chance to become someone instead of being one of the forgotten and overlooked. I hate that it's so paper-work focused and red-tape oriented to adopt a child, especially internationally. Stories of people waiting years before things come together - through multiple times when finger prints or reports had to be re-done becuase they had expired yet again during all the waiting. I'm frustrated that two dumb as rocks idiots hooking up in the back of a car can make a baby, yet it takes wonderful caring people such anguish to adopt.

As Christians, we're called to take care of the widows and orphans. A family at our church were struck upside the head with that when they went abroad to help at a Romanian orphanage's summer camp for the children. A few months later, Jack was home with them. Born with arms that end of at the elbows, he was abandoned by his mother and had spent the first 4 years of his life in that orphanage, probably to spend many more there if it wasn't for this family. He's the sweetest kid, picking up english so quickly, and with a face that's full of joy and love. I want to be able to give that to a kid who wouldn't get it.

However, I can't even get a husband to say "yes, let's try for #2" - instead I go on the fact that he seems to have forgotten I'm not on the pill. Haven't been for a year now. Conceiving Natalie was a miracle, if it's meant to happen again, it will. I don't see us ever adopting; besides getting Jim to agree to something that intensive (commitment is NOT a forte of his), I don't know where we'd get the thousands of dollars in fees to pay for it. We can't even afford to fix our bathroom with it's slowly failing plumbing, rotting vanity and cracked sink, let alone adopt a baby. I guess I need to keep praying for peace, for God's will to be done. For a baby to come into our lives, or not. For me to be accepting of that and not have those twangs of longing every time I see an infant. If we're only meant to have one kid, we got a pretty damn good one.

17 August 2009

What does it take?

To rid ones self of sugar, carbs, bad eating habits, etc.? I keep thinking in another world my house would be devoid of food, I wouldn't have to run errands around places that sell goodies, I'd be able to do the things that make me happy (painting, sewing) all day and therefore not have thoughts of chocolate running amongst my grey matter 24/7, and there'd be a gourmet vegeterian chef to cook me three meals a day plus snacks of delishious tasty food that is not salad 9 times out 10.

But how is a real person supposed to do it? When I'm stressed and overworked and tired and achy and PMSy and just want some chocolate fucking ice cream? When I'm too tired to actually make something for dinner and would rather just have a bowl of cereal? When I get a flat tire and just want to pull my car into the nearest deli because I deserve a big chicken salad sandwich on an everything bagel for having to deal with all that in the august heat and humidity? What is that person supposed to do?

12 August 2009


Ugh, I wish I could post the picture from a bbq this past weekend that a friend took. HORRID. I'm a giant fat turd. That being said, I may finally be convinced I need to start wearing a smidge of makeup when going out, you know, to hide the giant bags under my eyes and at least give my face some features to stand out amongst all that FAT. Ew. What's hard is that I don't feel as huge as I look in pictures. Does the camera add 20lbs? Or 50?

The good news is I think this is the catalyst I need to go back to no-sugar. I did awesome this spring for 6-8 weeks, It started out easy and got harder but I stuck to it. Frustrating as everyone says cutting sugar is hard at first but then gets easier. Hm. Anyway, I was feeling all proud of myself and stepped on the scale and BAM, up two pounds. Depressed, I went home and ate my feelings for a week before seeing my doctor and on her scale, I had lost a pound from the week before. What the fuckity fuck is up with that. But, I know in the long run, sugar is my downfall. I also need to get back to OA meetings, although I'm much more aware of my eating compulsions and am better at cutting those out. Still. I hate the struggle, I hate looking in the mirror and thinking "ok, I'm looking not too terrible" and then to see pictures that make me look just the opposite. Which is why I don't let people take pictures of me for a reason. Probably why I like being on the other side of the camera.