Now that I Know, I'm Happier.

We're having another boy and I am so relieved!
Aside from having gads of little boy clothes, stacks of blue blankets, tons of trucks and dinosaurs... I just feel more confident knowing another boy is on the way.
Like, I already had a boy.  I already know what to do with a boy.

Hear me out.
If a baby boy is crying, from my experience, he needs something.  Diaper change, food, sleep, snuggle, maybe he can't reach an itchy spot on his back... I mean it'll be something.  And, this whole time, I couldn't help but think... if a baby girl is crying... does she really need something or is she just having a bad day.  Is the little lady just feeling emotional?  How would you ever know?
Then there's the hair issue.  You've all seen Koley's wild and woolly mane.  It's untameable.  And, lucky for me, the tussled look looks adorable on a toddler boy.  But put those same nappy locks on a girl and you instantly think "negligent mother."  I don't know how to fix hair.  Not my own- and certainly not a baby's!  I know there are YouTube tutorials and books.  I've tried with my own hair.  I've watched the videos and I can successfully do a ponytail, some hair up and some hair down, and just plain down.  Although I can part on either side.  Or down the middle. 
Then, THEN!  There is when a girl would grow up and... you know... develop.  And start her period and all that.  I am not wanting to talk about that or teach that to anyone. 
I admire the mothers of girls.  They are far braver than I.
More confident.
More in control.
More motherly.

I'm sticking to what I know.  And happy to be doing so.
I'm happy It's A Boy.

He's measuring big.  Again.  99.5 percentile.  Weird they have those markers for even unborn babies.  The tech said they'd probably take the critter a couple weeks early so we don't have another giant baby.
Even though I really like giant babies, they are quite difficult to deliver.
And we've already picked out the name.
I'm not telling what it is- but I'll let you guess.
His initials will be:
JBP

I'm A Survivor

Yesterday, in church, we had a lesson on overcoming trials.  It was entitled, "Songs They Could Not Sing."  Touching.  And a touch dramatic.
I am not one to scoff at trials.  I've been dealt a few.
I mean, we all have, right?
In one way or another we have all faced the burden heartache.
Whether it's in the form of sickness, loss of faith, the death of a child or spouse or friend.  Trials can be financial.  Trials come in the form of emotional death... where you're depressed or anxious... or maybe you're OCD and really wish you weren't.  You may have gone through a horrible divorce or lost the trust of someone you love.
And then there are times when you can't pinpoint what's bugging you- you're just not happy.
We all are faced with trials in some way.

I was sitting there listening to white-haired women go on about trials they had years ago and were still upset and crying over.  Events that took place 50 and 60 years ago!  And from listening to them you'd think it was last week.  They were still carrying the grief with them. 

I was shocked by how many women in this class were crying.  Bawling.  Trying (unsuccessfully) to hold it all in.  One was stricken with an illness.  Another went through a divorce.  Another lost a child "to the world."  One suffered infertility when she was younger but later bore children.  And they all seemed to have the same plea.  "Why do bad things happen to good people?" 

I raised my hand.
"Bad things happen to everybody.  Good people.  And bad people.  No one is singled out."

Uhhh....I wasn't met with applause.
In fact the teacher couldn't even think of anything to say to me and my comment.  (Not even a thank you or a polite nod or an eyebrow raise.)

I felt really uncomfortable.  I didn't want to belittle the heartaches and feelings of these women- but I couldn't believe that one bad thing defined their entire life and they still weren't over it.

And as I sat there I couldn't help but wonder.... What made me a survivor?
(How very Carrie Bradshaw-esque.)

You know what?  Let's walk down Trial Alley with me for a sec.

Trial #1
About 10 doctors told me I couldn't have kids.
Did I quit having sex with my husband?  No.  I did quit using protection... and look where THAT got me.

Trial #2
I had to put off my education so Ken could finish his.
Was that easy?  Might sound that way to you... but it wasn't.  I cried and pouted and built up all this resentment.
But you know what?  I'm registering to start back up in the Fall.  Couple semesters still have my name on them.

Trial #3
I've got a brain tumor.
Can't really tell you what it does to me- besides make my body produce milk... and empty my bank account.

These three aren't much and they don't (as they say) start to scratch the surface... but... when I think of these three phases of my life- I can remember being sad.  I remember crying.  A lot.  Asking Andi for sad songs to listen to.  I remember putting the ear buds in and checking out.  Not talking to people.  Not answering my phone.  Not showering or leaving the house.  I remember being mad. At everyone! Feeling like my life was over.  I remember being jealous that other people had it better.  Feeling like I was given the short end of the stick.

I can't imagine still feeling that way.  Still harboring those feelings.  Feelings of hate and hurt. 

It's not that the trials went away.  I mean, okay, I've got Koley and one on the way- so doctors have kinda lost their shiny good rep with me.  But, when one trial leaves another one always shows up.  Always.  I'm not every going to be trial-less.  It's not possible.

What IS possible is making the choice to GET OVER IT.  Quit sulking.  Stand up for yourself.  Quit waiting for someone else to make you happy.  Start living your own life.  This is your big (and only) shot.  Why waste it being upset.  Whatever it is, Let It Go.  Become a survivor.

Trust me.
It feels good to live.

5 for 5

5 Things I Really Dislike About Renting

1. The noise.  It's the parking lot.  The tow-truck driver.  The highway.  The airport.  The Air Products factory.  (<--- which is releasing clouds or steam or something under really high pressure this morning to the tune of a shrill whistle.  Imagine a tea kettle at full steam.  Right by your ear.  For 3 hours.)  Then there's the kids.  All the screaming.  All the knocking on my door wondering if I have snack.  Wondering if I can play.  Yeah.  They want me to play.  Not Koley.  Me!  I mean I'm fun.  But I'm 27.  And pregnant.  I'm laying off the monkey bars for awhile.  Then there's the dag gum scooters that sometimes run into my door.  Ride in traffic!
   There was an article in my Oprah magazine this month about noise and how damaging it can be to your physical and mental health.  I may have taken it quite seriously.  Earplugs please.
2. Hard water.  Not only is my hair straw-like, brittle, and unable to style... my shower curtain is turning orange and all my cups are so foggy you can't see through them.  Sorta gross.
3. The upstairs faucet on my side of the bathroom... if you turn it on cold- it'll run cold for about the space of time it takes you to reach the faucet.  Then, it's luke warm. And every night (EVERY NIGHT) I forget.  I bend over to rinse after brushing my teeth and get a balmy luke warm mouthful of water.  Blecckh.  I can just imagine those weird white floaty things that are always in warm water gushing into my mouth. 
4. The faucet in the guest bathroom downstairs... if you turn it to warm (like half a millimeter to the warm side) to wash your hands...  It will scald your skin off.  I've heard many a guest scream in surprise.  And horror.  I should put a warning post-it on the mirror.
5. Wind blows through the cracks around the front door.
6. I really miss getting the mail in my pajamas without a bra on.

5 Things I Really Like About Renting

1. Ken comes home every night.  You just can't beat that.  Kole gets so excited.  He watches from the window starting at five to 6 and waits.  Waits for Dad to come home.  And boy is it mayhem when Ken gets here!  Giggling.  Chasing.  Growling.  Wrestling.  Boy stuff.  Mom takes a break.
2. I do like having a box to walk to in order to get the mail.  It feels very "Housewives." 
3. When something is broken (kitchen cabinet, toilet, closet door, blinds) it cost absolutely nothing to fix.  Just call the manager and they send Manuel over at 5:15.  Love it.
4. My neighbor and I tape messages up to each other on our kitchen windows during the day.  It makes me feel like I'm 7 and I like it. (Maybe that's why those kids always want to play with me.)
5. I'm getting to know people.  They know me.  I'm making friends.  After 6 long months.  I feel comfortable here.