KirstenL4W

Getting back to that encyclopedia thing.  I thought for some time on what to do for this particular letter.  I thought about computers, but most of you who visit regularly have a passing familiarity with my thoughts and experience on the subject.  Then I thought about Carbs and/or Chocolate - two things to which I am severely addicted.  But again, this is stuff you already know about me.  Then I got to thinking about why I blog, which is a way for me to journal and put myself out there.  The subject of Child popped into my head, and that was it.  Then it was just a matter of finding the time to write the post when I was in a contemplative enough mood to actually write something worth reading.  So, enough of my babbling and on to the post.

Me as a Child

We were all children at one point, and I have mixed feelings about my childhood.  My parents divorced when I was very young, and while I knew growing up that things weren’t always as blissful as people say a childhood should be, I didn’t know exactly what it was until I was older.  But that’s neither here nor there.  The thing that sticks out most in my mind about me as a child was that I never really felt like a child.  I preferred the company of the adults around me to the kids my age.  As a result, I didn’t have tons of friends.  I had a few, but I tended (and still have this tendency) to stick to one on one rather than groups of people.

I was happy enough, but a lot of times I was somewhere else.  I often felt like I should have been somewhere else - in another time, perhaps.  A lot of the books I read took place or were written during the early part of the 20th century, and I felt a sense of belonging in them.   Nowadays I would have been described as having an “old soul.”  Modern clothes, with acid washed jeans and high top sneakers, didn’t suit me.  Funny that now I am almost always seen in jeans and comfortable shoes.

Since I always felt out of place as a child, uncomfortable in my own skin, it wasn’t until I reached my mid-20s that I started to feel more comfortable.  I distinctly remember feeling like I had grown into myself.  My real-life age was reaching the age that I had always felt I was.  This is when I finally felt comfortable enough to live my life for myself, and things have been getting better and better ever since.

Children in My Life

I am the oldest grandchild on both sides of the family (at least until it was revealed that I had some older cousins, but that’s another story).  I’m older than my sister by 16 or so months, my cousins by 3 and 5 years, and younger cousins by 17 or more years.  I loved helping out in a caretaker type role.  Then when I was in college, my little sister had a baby.  She had 2 more after that, and today, as of this writing, Bubba is approaching 15, Messy J will be 9, and Mia is 19 months.  I spent lots of time with them, especially Bubba, and I feel very close to all of them.  I do wish I could spend more time with them, but both Sis and I decided to move away from home, in different directions.  Being an Aunty really is the best, though.

For the longest time growing up, I wanted to have children.  I felt a certain dissatisfaction, an unfulfilled part of me that said “have kids.”  But then I got older, and older still, without any prospects on the horizon.  I didn’t want to be a single mom, so I kept holding out, looking at prospective partners and trying to determine their suitability as a provider and parent.  But nothing ever worked out.

When I moved to Las Vegas, I made the decision not to look for anyone.  I was just going to enjoy life and see where it took me.  I did, though it took a long time to make some friends.  Vegas can be a tough town for that due to its transient population.  But eventually I did meet some people who had similar interests, and things took off.  I still held to my decision to not deliberately look for someone.  I felt that when it was time, it would happen.  Sure enough, it did, and I met FH.  Let me tell you, when you get all worked up about meeting someone so that all your goals can be met, you forget to live your life.  I decided to have fun and live life, and I’m glad I did.

When FH and I met, his experiences told him that it was best to get it out right out on the table, so that’s what he did.  He went through the major things that are usually big enough to be dealbreakers, and one of those things was children.  He said, in no uncertain terms, that he’s not having any, not on purpose or accidentally.  I said OK, and knew I had to decide for myself.

. . . Or Not 

I went through all the thoughts that had come through my mind over the years.  As a younger adult, the only thing I wanted to be was a wife and mom.  Pursuing that dream didn’t work out so well and I was constantly disappointed.  When I moved to Vegas and began really living life, I quite enjoyed my life.  Sure, I was a bit lonely for awhile, but overall, I liked the life I had created for myself.  Plus, I’m getting older.  I turned 34 yesterday, and it’s only a very short time before I reach that critical age - 35 - that automatically turns a pregnancy into a high risk one.  So I thought and thought some more.  I talked with FH through the process, and being the great guy that he is, was careful to be supportive of my thought process without pressuring me in one direction or another.  But then I thought, hey, I really like my life.  I like it the way it is now.

I thought some more and came to a few realizations.  I love being an Aunty.  I get to love the kids and play with them, and they are always excited to see me.  I get to hear “I love you!  I miss you!”  all the time, and I’ll never have to hear “I hate you!  You’re ruining my life!”  As an Aunty, I get to have all of the fun and none of the grief.  Sure, I do worry about the kids and want to do whatever I can to make sure they grow into adults that people love to have around because they are that awesome.  I want them to feel loved.  But I don’t want to put my life on hold to do it.

Then there was another thought that occurred to me.  What if I just wasn’t meant to have children?  I admit, I’ve been less than careful in the past, even at times when my activities should have stopped the crimson tide for awhile.  But it never happened.  If it was to be, I thought, then it should have.  It happened with my sister when she was less than careful.  But not me.  I’ve never had a professional determination on this and I’m not going to find out.  This is one of those things that I am happy to leave to fate.

In the end, I decided that I was not only comfortable, but relieved with the decision to not have children.  At this point, I feel like if I were to have them, it would be because that’s what I’m obligated to do.  And I know that there are some of you reading who feel that it’s my job as a woman to reproduce.  If it happened when I was younger, I would have done it whole-heartedly.  But now that I’m older and it’s not happened, I’m glad.  I don’t think I have the patience for it.  My sister, who started when she was 17, didn’t do so well as a mom for quite some time.  She messed up with them, and a lot of people said that it should have been me having kids instead of her.  But now that she’s older and has grown up and settled down, I see that she’s a pretty darn good mom.  And to that I say, better her than me.  I think it would have driven me crazy if I had them.

I do have an aunt and uncle - Aunt Bird and Uncle N Period - who never had children.  I don’t remember thinking that it was unusual when I was a kid.  I liked going to visit them and even as an adult, I’d spend time with them when I had a vacation or long weekend.  I quite enjoy their company, and have always felt very comfortable at their house.  Looking at that with the perspective I have now, perhaps that was a clue.  Reading this blog post is likely the first that many who are close to me are hearing about this, but it’s not always easy to talk about.  People who have children will tell me that it’s the most rewarding experience they’ve ever had.  I don’t doubt that for a minute, and seeing the people around me happy is what matters most to me.  Having children of my own is not for me.  I’m happy to spend time with my cousins, nieces and nephew when I can, and some of my friends have some really cool kids.  But at the end of the day, I’m happy to come home to the most amazing man ever and spend time alone with him, just the two of us.

It’s my birthday today. I’m not one to want to go all out on my birthday.  I’m just not that kind of attention seeker, and I don’t need to make people uncomfortable by conspicuously bringing up the fact that it’s my birthday so that they will wish me a happy birthday.  Being remembered is nice, but I like for people to do it on their own.

Having had some disastrously bad birthdays when I was in my 20s, I don’t have such high hopes for the day.  I hate surprise parties, and I don’t need a wild night out on the town.  I’m not a wild night on the town kind of gal to begin with, so I don’t think my birthday should be any different.  For me, I just like to open whatever cards I get in the mail from far-away family and spend some time with a few close friends.  As long as everyone knows not to sing to me in public, we’ll be fine.

I’m not sure yet what the plans for today are, other than work.  Usually on Thursday evenings a bunch of us all get together and meet at the local watering hole, so I’m sure we’ll be doing that as well.  Just a typical Thursday, May 29.

Read all about famous events, births and deaths on this day at Wikipedia.

FH and I decided to paint some walls in our new home.  We have a media nook, or a nook in which we decided to place the entertainment center because of the convenient location of the cable outlet.  This nook has the same wall treatment as the rest of the house - textured walls with flat, builder off-white paint.  We decided that the nook needed something so that the entertainment center, as large as it is, wouldn’t look lost or out of place.  We went for black.  The entertainment armoire is black, as are the electronics and even the CD racks, so this color choice made sense to us.  And as soon as I get a new battery for my little point and shoot camera, I’ll show you all how awesome it looks.

As we were preparing the area to paint, a discussion about the wall texture came up.  Where I come from, walls are smooth.  Here, walls are textured.  FH said that in California, only old homes have smooth walls.  Back east, we don’t bother much with the spray and knockdown texture stuff, and most people who know their way around a hardware store know how to patch a hole in drywall so that it comes out smooth.  This texture stuff is new to me.

I asked FH why the walls are all textured out west, and he told me that it’s so that no one will notice that the walls aren’t straight.  So am I correct in assuming that it’s easier to teach someone to spray some texture and float it out than it is to teach them to use a level?  This West Coast stuff is too much for me to take sometimes.  East Coasters, when people tell you that California is like another planet, trust me.  It is.  And although I’m in Nevada, about 25% of the people moving here are from Orange and LA counties alone - just two counties out of 58 in CA.  That means that they bring their interplanetary weirdness with them when they move here.  FH is from California, but the northern part.  It’s a bit more normal up there, but they still have textured walls.

I was reading the news while on my lunch hour at work a few weeks ago and came across this article.  It discusses the therapeutic benefits of blogging.  Since my very first post, I have felt a certain comfort in putting my thoughts online.  If I’m looking for feedback, someone who doesn’t know me from a hole in the wall could well be able to offer a fresh perspective versus someone who does know me.  Heck, just getting it out there helps.  I have noticed that if I write something down in my journal, it helps but only to a point.  I’ve long used journaling as a way to articulate my thoughts, to help turn them from abstract figments of thoughts into something more concrete so that I can continue on with whatever has been on my mine.

But blogging is different.  It helps communicate those thoughts.  Even though my audience is largely made up of people who don’t know me, whom I don’t communicate with except in blog comments, that anonymity is freeing.  People read my blog because they’re interested.  Because I’ve said something that they can relate to.  I find that in real life, I am quieter and not as open with all my thoughts because I feel that most people don’t understand.  Whether they say they do or not, it’s difficult for me to convey my feelings in spoken form and get the desired effect.  I just don’t think on my feet like that.  The method of communication that works best for me is writing, and when you’re face to face with someone, well, it’s hard.

Though blogging is thought of as a form of communication,  some people don’t get that.  I mean, I write down everything I’m thinking, and a blog post is 100% my thoughts.  But the communication comes in comments.  It comes in reading other people’s blogs.  While others won’t put out posts meant to say something directly to me as a response to my posts, their thoughts will touch me and speak to my much in the same way that mine do for others.

It’s a great big wide interwebs out there.  Those that don’t live an online life or who use the internet as an information resource with the occasional email to keep in touch don’t get the power of blogging.  Not blogging for money or having a niche blog.  Personal blogging.  It’s fun, as a hobby should be.  It’s absorbing, as a good television series ought to be.  And it’s therapeutic, as journaling is.   For those of us who blog, it’s as necessary as a nice long chat with a close friend is.

Maybe, just maybe, I will find time to blog in the next week or so.  We are still unpacking boxes, which is not what I want to do when I get home from work, so I usually don’t.  Weekends are fun-filled as usual, with errands, social stuff, and/or loafing around, so not too much gets done then, either.  And we are getting to the point where we are seeing that we have too much stuff and not enough places to store it efficiently in, because the furniture we had at the old place doesn’t work here.  Ah well, such is life.  It will get done, and I will blog again.

Well hey there, it’s a computer!  Let’s see, we put this wire into this plug, and that cord into that hole, and push the button…. it works!  Hallelujah, it’s a miracle!

So I got my computer hooked up and back online.  And not the vile Vista laptop.  Ok, I shouldn’t talk smack about it like that - it kept me online when I had no other way.  But now, I am on my computer, my beloved desktop PC, with all my files and music and good stuff like that.  And wires.  My goodness, this thing has a lot of wires.  The electrical spaghetti beneath my desk is astounding.  My next computer will definitely be an iMac, because they are sleek, and with wireless technology the only wire you absolutely need for it is the power.  One single wire.  Oh, how I long for the simplicity of it all.

But I digress.  Now that I have my PC unpacked, FH is playing WOW again, and we are settling into our new home, I anticipate having much more time to blog and be blogged.  There is still more unpacking to do, more stuff to buy, and oh yeah, a wedding coming up, but I’m happy that I can finally get back to my PC.  Don’t forget, it’s not just that I haven’t been online the past few weeks - the entire year that FH and I lived in that tiny, 1-bedroom apartment, my computer was in the bedroom and FH’s in the living room, and since I like spending time with him I spent my time in the living room, using the laptop to keep caught up and keep myself alive as far at the world wide interwebs are concerned.  I do have files on the laptop that need to be moved, but that’s nothing a flash drive can’t take care of.  For now, I’m happy to be home.  Home on my computer, and home in the home that FH and I are making for ourselves.  He’s here in the office (a room dedicated to wasting time with computers!) with me, playing WOW, and I can still reach out and touch him if I want to.

Life is good.

Our house looks like a box bomb went off in it.  It’s times like these that I don’t like having a full time job, but I really can’t do anything about that.  Oh, plus I just got myself a lovely cold to deal with, so the energy level isn’t there.  Computers and the home office will be the last thing to be set up, so I’m not the only one missing the online world.  The goal is to get things set up ASAP, so we’ll be busy doing that.  I’ll be back soon!