Sigh

I haven't really felt like posting anything of substance because I just want it all to go away. If I don't think or write about it maybe it won't "be." Oh well. Maybe tomorrow I'll deal with it.

I did finally get the motivation to put new links in my "blogs of interest" section (funny how avoiding the more substantive issues gets so many other things done). Let me know if I linky-linked you (thanks for the expression Sideon!) and you want to be taken off, or if I didn't linky-link you and you would like me to do so.

You're a Mama, I'm a Mama, Whoa Mama!

Ah, kids are so adorable sometimes. Today has definitely been one of those times. Though I really wanted to go to Boise for the holidays, we had a really nice, fun, relaxing time here at home. It's been nice to watch the boys play with their new toys and to be able to interact with them more because I'm not a mess, wishing I was somewhere that I can not be.

As I was putting the boys down for bed, our oldest was teasing me and saying, "Mama, you're a mother! No, you're a boy! I'm a Mama!" He sounded so cute saying it. He just knew he was hilarious, which of course then made it so. And our youngest, who just turned 18 months, decided to pour himself a cup of rice milk and looked thoroughly surprised when it spilled all over the table. "Hey, it doesn't do that when Mama pours it!" He looked so taken aback when it happened that I just laughed and helped him clean it up.

Sigh. This is one of those days when you are glad to be a mother. Which is good because two days ago I about throttled the 18 month old when he took four hours to go to sleep. AAAGGHH! At least he was cute about it, but, man did it ruin my night. Fortunately for everyone involved, the good and bad days are usually somewhat interspersed.

Gluby is the best! I have wanted to learn how to belly dance since I was 20 and have mentioned this off and on for the last year. I told him once again how I wish I could take a belly dancing class after having talked with a friend whose gym offers different dance/exercise classes where belly dancing is one of them. (Gasp! That was a long sentence.) I thought nothing of it until later when he mentioned that I would be getting a surprise in the mail soon. Well, I am not patient when it comes to surprises so I tortured it out of him. He bought a belly dancing DVD for me for Christmas (which is huge because he is such a grinch). It arrived a few days ago and I have been doing it almost daily. It came with a CD full of belly dancing music which I love. It's calming yet invigorating.

Anyway, if you ladies out there think going from garments to panties is sexy, you should try belly dancing. Whoa. And it'll drive your man crazy! Trust me.

Tag, You're It

I was tagged on SML's blog a couple of weeks ago, and think I have finally come up with some stuff about me which border on weird.

• I have very vivid dreams. The kind where you fall from a sky scraper, land on the ground, lay there aching wondering if you're going to die, and then wake up unable to move for 5 minutes. The kind where you fight a dragon and physically feel every strike from its stinging, scorpion-like tail (I had this dream a lot for about 10 years). The kind where you strangle your spouse at night because you think a box spring is going to fall on top of you both, pushing you and the three cats out of the house and instantly killing everyone. I have since realized that stress makes me more likely to act out (sleepwalking, and, um, sleepchoking) during my dreams and Gluby has learned to live with fear while sleeping.
  

• I don't know if I have ever admitted this to Gluby or not, but I, like Floating in the Milk, like the smell of cigarettes. Not only that, but I can differentiate between four distinct scents when it comes to cigarettes. I have no idea whether it has to do with the brand, or plant variety, or processing, or what. I have been tempted several times to ask people what kind of cigarette they are smoking and see if I can eventually start to guess the brand just by the smell. I have high aspirations, as you can see.
  

• SML's mentioning her fear of ocean water reminded me of my water fear. I don't mind swimming in the shark infested waters off of Hawaii; just don't make me swim in murky, fish infested lake waters. Now that is scary. Every time I swam at Lucky Peak Reservoir in Idaho I seriously thought something was going to bite me. I knew there had to be a small shark lurking in the water where no one could see him and that he was going to bite me.
  

• When I married Gluby I was afraid his three cats would get more attention than I would in our marriage. Yes, I will say it. I was jealous of his cats. (He is quite affectionate of them.) So I told him that I didn't want them sleeping in the same bed with us, but I didn't tell him I was jealous of them. When I finally realized that they would not take my place I consented to their presence on our bed. Now we can't seem to get them off of it. They are present no matter what we do on the bed.
  

• I went to massage therapy school 10 years ago. I was even an LMT (licensed massage therapist) in Utah and worked at a couple of places. I hated doing it for money, but loved helping people feel better. When Gluby found out I went to massage school he was really excited. Unfortunately, he has only ever received one full body massage in almost 7 years of marriage. Gluby is the one who massages my back, or feet, or head. Poor Gluby!
  

• As some of you know, Gluby was in the Marines. There is a certain “motivated bark” that Marines do, which Gluby has perfected. I absolutely love to hear his Marine bark -- especially since I can't do it; I sound like a macho yippie dog. I go through phases where I ask him to bark all the time. He has even taught our oldest son how to do it just for me. I just love it!
  

Ok, I know that those last two entries aren't all that weird, so I'll tell you one weird thing about me and Gluby.

We often sing together as if we are in a musical. Gluby and I were in the BSU LDS Institute choir together for almost a year, and while we were dating we loved doing musical things together. So, ever since, we constantly improvise music, sometimes absent-mindedly. At times, it can get quite obnoxious. For example, he was reading about China and then began singing Handel's Messiah, but instead of “Hallelujah” he sang “Mao Zedong.” Over. And over. And over. I still hear it sometimes today, seven years later, though he's usually finding other things to set the music to (most recently, “Fiddley Gomme” since the unusual name of Pete's blog has gotten stuck in his head). But WORST of all, he was picking on me about my supposed fastidiousness and penchant for spreadsheets one day and began singing “Edelweiss” from The Sound of Music, except he was singing, “Anal wife, anal wife, clean the kitchen forever.” Obnoxious. I answered, “Lazy husband, lazy husband, get your butt out of the bed.” This kind of stuff is constantly going on.

Reached Capacity

Thanks for all of the comments everyone! I seriously never thought anyone besides Gluby would even look at this, so it is a very pleasant surprise.

I haven't forgotten about Outerblogness (or that I have been tagged!). Had a lot going on lately and haven't had the emotional or mental capacity to post. I hope to do so in the next day or two.

Panty Day?

December 12, 2006, will be forever remembered as “Panty Day” in our house, whether I like it or not.

As some of you may have read from Gluby's exuberant comments on other blogs, we ordered some new underwear for me a couple of weeks ago. The whole situation actually started about two months ago when Gluby asked:

G: Honey, when do you think you'll stop wearing your garments?

LB: Probably when I am ready to realize that the church isn't true and that I no longer want to be a member. Why?

G: Just wondering. I hate those things. (He pauses for a moment.) Hey, what size do you wear?

LB: I have no idea, I haven't bought any for over 10 years. (Now it's my turn to pause.) No, you are not going to buy them for me. I am perfectly capable of buying myself underwear.

G: I'll even take the boys so they won't be in your hair. It'll be fun!

LB: Yes, I'm sure it will. (sigh) I can see it now. “Hey, son, what do you think of this pair of underwear for Mama?” And you'll probably come home with thongs. Yah, that's what I want to do, go from total coverage to anal floss. No thanks, I'll go buy myself my own underwear.

Three weeks later I get an instant message on my laptop from Gluby in the other room while I am studiously (ah, right) preparing for an upcoming geology final exam.

G: Hey, honey, check out this porn!

LB: Excuse me?

G: Take a look at the link I just sent. (It's a link to Victoria's Secret web page filled with semi-anorexic, airbrushed women modeling shockingly small, vibrantly colored underwear.)

LB: Um, thanks. I wanted to look at half naked women. How'd you know?

G: What color do you want?

LB: Hm, I didn't know they were selling the women, but any color is fine with me as long as she's the housewife.

G: Very nice, dear. What color of underwear do you want?

I protest that now isn't the time, I'm studying, I haven't decided about church stuff yet, blah, blah, blah. But, when Gluby is excited about something it takes a bulldozer to get him to change direction.

So, we spent the next two hours picking out colors and types of underwear. The order form gave the approximate arrival date as the 16^th of December. He hated to wait so long, but he was excited and even wrote “PANTY DAY!” in big, bold letters on the calendar. On Tuesday (yesterday), I had just gotten home from taking our oldest out for a special “mama date” when I saw the mailbox overflowing with envelopes and what could only be panty packages. Gluby was so thrilled he had me try them on right away. It was like Christmas Day at our house yesterday. (And he is a super-grinch when it comes to holidays.)

The ironic thing is that, the very next morning, his sister sent us some pictures of the cookies she and her fiancee made last night. “Butt cookies” with underwear frosting. Nice.

We had a good laugh, especially since she is in Canada, had no idea about the whole underwear thing in the first place (no one did), and has never done anything of the sort before. It was a total random coincidence.

I did keep a pair of the new undies on the rest of the day and even wore them all day today. It feels really weird physically. Not as much bulk under my jeans, no elastic that goes up to my ribcage, no material to keep my thighs from rubbing together when I wear a dress without nylons, no pulling up my jeans to put the garments back in their place.

I am not sure how I feel about it emotionally yet. I feel like this whole experience is happening in a movie and at the end I'll turn it off, go to bed, and wake up to read scriptures with my family (not that we have done that in the last 5 years, but a girl can dream).

In fact, this morning Gluby asked me if I was still wearing them. I said yes. I did warn him, though, that I might not keep them on all day. He nodded understandingly and said that no matter what underwear I choose to wear right now, it is fine and he is proud of me for everything I have faced over the last few months -- although I think it may be more accurate to describe it as a painstakingly-avoided-until-I-can-no-longer-ignore-it kind of facing.

Personally, I think he's just trying to get me out of my new panties.

Opening Night

I am going to start off my blog the way so many others have by saying that I have no idea how to start this thing, so I'll just go for it and hope I don't trip on my way onto the stage.

I am a recovering(?) mormon who spent 30 years in the church. I was born and raised in it and thought I would be "faithful" until the day I died. I pictured myself as a chink in the eternal chain of happiness, surrounded by my husband, children, ancestors, and progenitors. Then, in July of 2001, my world collapsed around me as my husband, Gluby, told me he was having doubts about the church. The last five or so years have been the steepest, deepest roller coaster ride I have ever been on in my life.

After hundreds, seems like thousands, of deep, difficult conversations with Gluby, in the vast majority of which I was reserved, withdrawn and silently angry, I have finally started to peek through my eyelids at the world around me and have been astounded at what I have found. I will eventually post more about all of that stuff, but for right now I will keep things short. I have this desire to write everything down right now, but that would be way too long for an introduction and I don't think anyone would be able to understand my scattered thoughts.

Anyway, I have spent the last three-and-a-half years working on my undergrad stuff and raising children while Gluby was in law school. I am finally a junior, but I haven't been able to figure out my major yet as I want to be a geologist, volcanologist, sociologist, and/or an anthropologist. I still feel like I am in High School wondering what I want to be when I grow up.