why oh why do I do what I do...

From time to time people jokingly mention how excessive my activity level is.  My favorite remark is that if I'm not burning the candle at both ends and twice in the middle I must be on my death bed.  But to be honest, I'm just one of those people that really likes to be busy.  This doesn't mean I'm incapable of sitting back and relaxing.  I do that too.  I will sit on my back deck and watch my boys run and jump in the pool, or we'll go camping and leave all technology behind.  But on a day-to-day basis I like to keep in motion.

I think this has always been the case for me.  When we moved to the west coast it seemed to get worse.  Our move to Whidbey Island, Washington was a result of the Navy base in Brunswick, Maine closing.  We were fortunate to be able to choose such a picturesque spot to call home, but I found myself missing all my friends and family.  I hadn't moved anywhere with the military, and really hadn't been outside of Maine, aside from my first three years of life in New York and then a short stint in Keene, New Hampshire for my Dietetic Internship.

So here I sat without my usual Thursday night of dance classes (and the dinner and beer afterwards), no shifts at Joshua's Tavern, and no sporadic days of work at Parkview Adventist Medical Center to cover for the regular Dietitian.  I was bored.  I hate bored.  "Only boring people get bored".  I was lonely too.  I hate lonely.  I tried to make friends, but I honestly stink at meeting new people.  It irritates me the amount of small talk you have to endure just to get to a point where you can figure out whether you want to spend any real time with these new people.  What a waste!  Over the years, incidentally, I've reverted back to my old "shock and awe" campaign whereby I say something completely intimate and somewhat ridiculous when I first meet people and then judge their expression to determine whether I've scared them (no friend potential), drinking it in (friend possibility), or invite you to hang out (BFF).

So here I sat in a new location, with essentially no intimate friends, and suddenly my husband was gone.  And then he was home for a millisecond, and then he was gone again... and let's just put that theme on repeat for the past 4.5 years.  I'd like to say this is an exaggeration.  But my family was seriously starting to think I had buried my husband in the backyard because he was never to be seen.  And my friends actually started acting surprised if they heard that he was home.  If there is a short-end of any stick to be drawn, he'll get it.  I take comfort in knowing that he is just really good at his job, and of course they want him doing important things somewhere overseas - but naturally I choose to tease him about his inability to give a good blow job or his pheromones that smell of wide open prison ass being the reason they don't want him around the hangar.  Teasing is my wifely duty, one I take very seriously.  I think it's sad when marriages lack sense of humor.  Seems dull to me.

So I started doing things.  Soooooo many different things.  I didn't want to have all this time on my hands.  I didn't want to be bored and start missing my husband - because there's nothing you can do about his job demands and missing him doesn't make it any better; it just makes you angry.

We were living in a rental house at the time.  So all my tools were collecting dust.

My eldest sister was chatting with me one day.  She had recently opened up her own salon (Oasis Salon, Presque Isle, Maine) after what... 80 years working for other salons?  Jeez, she looks good for her age  ;)   and she would kill me if she read this.  She asked if I had ever made body products.  Nope.  They kind of scared me.  I had been making candles for 5 years at this point, but nobody was rubbing soy wax on their body unless they were into some kinky S&M relationship.  They scared me because I certainly didn't want to craft something that someone didn't like on their body or that made them itchy, etc.  But I also was intrigued.  I started researching.  I researched oils, butters, herbal ingredients, preservatives, cosmeceuticals, you name it.  Clearly I had the time, so why not?  In the end I crafted a few products so she could offer her clients unique products for their lavish pedicures.  But it was a new endeavor to fill up some of my time, and Uforya.com was born, with more than enough room to grow and keep me motivated.

I applied to go back to school.  I had always wanted a Master's degree but didn't think I wanted it in Nutrition.  I thought maybe a complimentary field would be better (back when I was wrapping up my Bachelor's degre) - but at this point in my life I actually wanted to continue with Nutrition and really hone my knowledge and skills in that realm.  So from September 2011 to April 2014 I was a full-time graduate student.

In February 2012 we bought our house.  Now this was my kind of project.  It was a foreclosure that was literally 1/10th of a mile from our rental.  It has been one of my favorite projects so far - certainly keeping me plenty busy as it just needed some TLC in every room, on every wall and every floor, and then some.

A few months back now, having my Master's degree under my belt, I applied for and was hired on as the Dietitian at a senior community long-term care facility.  In addition to that I also took on a few freelance writing projects, writing up reports and nutrition tips on every topic you can imagine - and some topics that were so horrifically dumb I wished I'd never agreed to them.

Bored Now?  No way!  Quite the opposite.  I've got something I could be doing at any second of any day.  Some consider me to be Type A.  Like I'm somehow neurotic and don't know how to relax.  I don't think that's quite the case.  If I want to relax I have every opportunity, and I indulge from time to time.  It just so happens that my style of coping with my husband's non-stop detachments (deployments where only portions of the squadron leave) is a little more productive than most.

I'm not mad at someone who deals with their separation by pining for their missing partner, but that's just not my style.  I don't watch tv, aside from the occasional late night show when I'm going to bed... I <3 The Soup on E!  All these reality [garbage] shows irritate me.  I hate listening to people singing on shows just to win some sort of music contract that they haven't spent years in the trenches to earn.  I don't do much pleasure reading.  I honestly hadn't read anything fiction in years because I was so wrapped up in textbooks... that is until the 50 Shades of Grey movie trailer came out and I seriously then had to indulge in that trilogy.  Holy Crap!  I mean that stuff takes "pleasure" reading to a whole new level...  but I digress.

I'm a worker.  I like to keep busy.  And when my husband is gone, I miss a little adult conversation from time to time, which is what I occasionally use my blog for - like the most ridiculous sort of diary.  I don't do it because I think people will actually read what I write - because my life is not exactly a "page-turner".  But I do secretly hope some who stumble across it might find something they could do to occupy their time if they're feeling lonely - and maybe they'll stop pinning things and starting doing these things.  Maybe they'll see some project I worked on and think they could do that too.

There is no perfect time to start your life.  Imagine if I had waited for my boys to both be in school, or for my husband to be home to support me and grant me uninterrupted time to work on my hobbies.  I'd still be waiting... and look at all that wouldn't have been accomplished... and imagine how many useless hours would have been spent sitting on the porch watching the grass grow. 

Simply about Survival

So here I sit at my first craft fair of the holiday season.  Business is a little slow, but it’s giving me a chance to fully analyze the brick wall across from me, and to remember that I have to bring some busy work to do tomorrow when it gets stagnant.  So as I sit here, I’m thinking back on my week of preparing for the show and I honestly can’t believe I made it here, with my goods to sell, and a voice (since I thought for sure I was going to lose it from the constant scolding).  How is it that when you are at your busiest moment, little boys seem to know you can’t be on top of them, and take full advantage?  Is it a sixth sense they possess?  Can they smell the sweat on my brow from a moment of preoccupied work?  Whatever it is in their being that alerts them, I want it removed.  I honestly thought I was going to lose my mind, when one bad day turned into two and three.

The first day started off with a phone call from my husband regarding unfortunate news about his mawmaw.  I was knee deep in products I needed to make, but now I was extra stressed because I wanted to hug my husband, but couldn’t (he was away on a military trip) and I had to figure out how to get him from his location to Texas for the services.  The boys sensed something was up, or actually they sensed that I was on the phone and proceeded to tear their rooms apart.  They emptied their entire dressers all over the floor.  As if that mess wasn’t bad enough, they started throwing the clothes into each other’s rooms and down the stairs (so it not only had to be put away, but sorted too).  Mind you this was Tuesday, and it is now Friday and I still have not found a spare moment to reorganize all of those garments.  When the clothes are a mess it makes it hard to get dressed, so I spent the next hour trying to convince my 3-year-old that he needed to find something to wear so we could get out the door to get to a meeting regarding Daddy’s emergency leave and plane ticket.  We made it to the meeting, fully dressed (I still don’t know how) – where both boys proceeded to play in the office like it was a jungle gym and at one moment I found them licking the desk!!  I seriously thought my eye was going to pop out of my head it was twitching so badly.

Day 2 was a little better to start as I had my 5-year-old off to kindergarten and my 3-year-old being babysat while I had a tooth filling replaced (believe it or not this was the most relaxing part of my whole week).  The afternoon proved to be horrific as soon as school let out.  The 5-year-old was properly wound up from being over-stimulated all day and would not stop making his brother cry.  I was supposed to be listening to a live lecture for my class, but I think I could only hear about 50% of it.

 
Day 3 was when I finally started to think that I was losing my grasp of control on the household.  The boys had decided to brush their teeth after breakfast.  I came around the corner and found toothpaste smeared across the floor and apparently my 3-year-old thought it would make really good hair gel too.  He certainly was right, that hair didn’t move one bit once the paste got into it.  My frustration with their mess sent them both to their rooms.  A bit later I heard running between the upstairs bathroom and their bedrooms.  I ventured upstairs to find them saturating wash cloths in the sink and then running them into the 3-year-old’s room where they would squeeze them out into one of their empty dresser tubs (empty because their clothes are still all over the floor).  I still can’t figure out what they were setting up to do, and I honestly don’t want to know.  The scolding began.  They were sent back to their respective rooms and told not to come out.  Moments later my 5-year-old appeared downstairs wearing my winter boots (which he had to go into my closet to get)!!  AND SMILING!!  I could have thrown fire balls out of my eyes, I was so pissed.  I got down at his level and said “what is it going to take for you to start listening and acting like a kindergartener at home??”  That little smart ass actually started to answer!  AHHH! Sent back to his room.  Mind you, the whole time this is going on, I’m trying to pour and label candles and body products for the show because we had to be ready to drive 45 minutes to set up that night.  I spoke to my husband.  I was losing it.  I didn’t know what to do.  As I figured, neither did he.  After talking to our 5-year-old, he [my husband] informed me that he [my 5-year-old] should behave because “I told him if he doesn’t then he’ll be in trouble when I get home.”  Bahahahaha - silly Daddy, that threat was about as effective as wet toilet paper.  Somehow I managed to finish up and load everything in the car for the trip to the show site.  My 3-year-old still had his “hair gel” in and had layered on some facial dirt so it now looked like he also had a goatee.  And they both slept like little angels the whole way – probably tired out from their devil-ish activities.
 
And what have I decided?  Well, sometimes you just have to sit back and realize that there are going to be days… maybe even a few in a row… that are simply about survival.  When all I need to do is make it from sunrise to sunset, with a few meals in between, and be happy that we didn’t have any trips to the Emergency Room. 

Frustrating Day

Today was a frustrating day.  I had spent the last month preparing for an open house for my business.  I really just wanted to have an occasion for people to come over, eat some food, socialize, and try out the products I've put so much work into creating.  I chose to have the event today because I wanted people to have time to settle down from the back-to-school rush.  I created an event on Facebook, because I felt like it was the easiest way to get the word out to people in this area (social media seems to be a prevalent means of communication here).  I invited the few people I knew, and asked them to pass the invite along to anyone else they thought would be interested.  13 people RSVP'd that they would come, and another 8 listed themselves as "maybe". 

With the date chosen and people indicating an interest, I knew I needed to get things in order.  I worked hard.  I created a catalog from scratch and had it professionally printed.  I meticulously assembled two dozen Pumpkin Creme Brulee pedicure sets.  I wrapped bath towels, and hand towels with raffia and placed them in wash basins so visitors could sit down and enjoy a personal pedicure while they chatted with friends.  I spent hours preparing products to have available for purchase and created a testing area where all the products could be tried out.  I cleaned for two days.  Prepared platters full of snacks.  As I look back on the month, I was busy getting things ready for today during any free moment that I was not taking care of my boys, or trying to complete work for my classes.

As I was putting food out this morning and brewing a pot of coffee, I chatted with a friend on Facebook who wanted to let me know that she wouldn't be able to make it.  Her inability to come was already assumed as she had just been blessed with a new baby boy 2 days ago, but I was grateful for the chance to hear from her and see how she was feeling.  The start of the Open House came.  The first guest to arrive was a close friend, and then another and another.  So was my day wonderful?  Of course, because I got to be surrounded by the company of three good friends whose love and support is unconditional.  We laughed and talked for hours.  But where was everyone else?  Where were all these other people who said they were coming, that I had prepared special items for?  Was this personal?  Why did my inner-self not allow me to do this to others when clearly they had no problem doing it to me?  Even though it may not have been done intentionally to hurt me, it certainly did hurt me.  Wasn't I worthy of a message to let me know that something had come up? 

Today made me wish for my friends from Maine.  I absolutely love the few close friends that I have made here in Washington, but why has it been such a struggle to find these loving and genuine people?  The kind that would drop anything to be somewhere for you.  Why does there seem to be such a large population of people that do not consider trustworthiness and dependability to be precious character traits?  Is it something that comes with age?  No, I can't believe that because a close friend who moved away months ago had a truckload of character and she was only 25.  Tomorrow I will feel better and I will start developing my next business plan (since clearly an Open House won't work), but tonight... after all the work that I put into today's flop... I think I've earned the right to curl up in a ball and be sad for a while.

Perfection is unattainable, but . . .

Candy Cane Soy Candle

While I consistently have to remind myself that it's impossible to be perfect or to do something that turns out perfect, it certainly is hard to keep from being disappointed when things don't turn out the way we want.  I had an issue recently with a candle I wanted to pour.  I had ordered a bottle of the new scent and had this vision in my head of what I wanted the final product to look like.  I began pouring, but I was too excited to see the final product, and thus hurried the process along.  This particular candle was going to have 5 different layers.  Each layer had to set up before the next could pour, but still needed to be a little warm so the layers would bind well to each other.  I allowed some cool air to pass through my studio in hopes it would cool the layers faster and let me continue pouring without such a long wait.  Well, it let me pour faster, but the final product had jump lines where the wax cooled too fast, and the binding of the layers was poor.  I was extremely disappointed.  The candle had the layers, and the angles I had dreamt up, but looked nothing like a product I would be proud to offer to customers.  Back to the work table the next day, with a clearer mind and calmer attitude, I began again.  The first day I only poured 2 of the layers and the next day I poured the remaining 3.  I keep the doors closed to keep the air warm, and I patiently waited after each layer to let the wax set up.  I had changed my design for the layers as well after seeing how much I disliked the first attempt.  And the results were... well... not perfect, but certainly as close as is possible.  I almost think that when we fail at first and then reattempt and succeed, it reminds us that we are human - but we sure do come equipped with amazing skills that create perfectly imperfect things.