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. 

Ah Fresh Air

I love Autumn.  On a nice day, the air is so nice and crisp.  The leaves are all changing color and it just feels like you can breathe so deeply, while walking around in warm sweaters.  Yesterday we went to the pumpkin patch so the boys could pick out some pumpkins for carving purposes.  They also have a little hay maze for kids to run through, and farm animals to ogle.  I was looking at pictures of the boys from last year as compared to this year at the same farm.  Can't believe how much they've grown.  This year Grady was also not afraid of the animals.  Last year he shook with fear when he saw the baa baa black sheep, goat, and pigs.  This time around he didn't need to be held and was offering them his fingers as snacks.

Foster's Farm 2010

Foster's Farm 2011

Pumpkin Picking 2011

Pumpkin Picking 2010

What I also can't believe is how tiring it is to be outside.  I would have thought both these boys would have been snoring the whole way home from the farm, but instead it was me that was having a hard time keeping my eyes open.  Why is it like that?  Shouldn't being outside in the fresh air leave you energized?  I think I should have at least had the energy afterwards to carve the pumpkins we picked.  Ah well, now we have something to do today.

Surgery

Surgery is done and I'm off to today to have a follow-up appointment with the doctor.  They will remove the compression tape that is still strapped to my chin.  It will be hard to tell for a few more days what the final look will be since there's still a fair amount of swelling.  It seems to be improving since I don't have twinges of pain when I purse my lips this morning, whereas yesterday I couldn't have used a straw if my life depended on it. 

Yesterday was pretty nerve-racking.  I've had surgery before to repair my broken nose - a few times - so I wasn't uncomfortable with the idea of being knocked out.  And I also was very comfortable with the surgeon after meeting with him a few times.  But this was the first time I had been knocked out since having my boys.  There's some sort of immortal feeling you have prior to starting a family.  It's that you feel like you can't be injured.  You are more willing to take certain risks.  And whether people recognize it, there is always a risk with a surgical procedure.  I recall starting to drift off when they were fixing my nose, thinking "please let this be the last time I have to do this, and I hope it goes great".  This time around, all I could think about was the possibility of not waking up!!  AHHH!!  As if that's what you want to be thinking about when you're going in for an elective procedure.  And how selfish would that be to have a cosmetic procedure done that then caused you to be missing from your children's lives??  I would love to take a peak at what my blood pressures were running as I was laying on that operating room table.  They must have been through the roof.  Tears rolling down my face, sniffling under the oxygen mask.  At first I think the nurse thought I was so upset because of the IV.  Legitimate thought since there are a lot of people who have trouble with needles.  I don't think they could have knocked me out fast enough once I told them what was running around in my head.  And the next thing I knew I was waking up.  No dreams in between.  You aren't really sleeping.  It's as if time stands still for a moment - one second you're finally drifting off on the table and the next moment you're groggily opening your eyes in the recovery room.  What do they call that, suspended animation?  Weird.  And wouldn't I love to be an observer in those recovery rooms.  I certainly have never been one to withold information.  In fact I'm pretty much an open book about anything.  But I don't know if the recovery room nurse needed to know that.  And I'm sure there are a lot more discreet/reserved people who find themselves waking up in those rooms just rambling on about all kinds of intimate details of their lives - embarassed later.  I told a friend, who is finishing up her bachelor's in nursing, that she should go into that realm and then maybe I could listen to some hilarious stories.  :)

So would I do it again?  Well, the recovery has been as easy as I could hope for.  I did not need the heavy pain killers that I snagged at the pharmacy.  Tylenol and some advil didn't completely take care of the pain, but they took the edge off.  I have a few more days of that regimen before the majority of the swelling will go down.  I won't be able to run for a couple weeks, which is hard to do without since it had finally become such a great routine, but worth it.  As for appearance, I honestly couldn't tell you what this artificial body part looks like.  It's still taped until lunch time today, and even then I don't know if it will show it's true form amongst the swelling.  In a few days I plan on taking a couple pictures of it, and for most people you will get to see a picture of my profile for the first time - which I have carefully hidden or burned any evidence of up until now.  It is a little strange to think about a strip of silicone sitting in my face, but I'm sure I will get used to it.  And I've become okay with the fact that I have altered something about my appearance that I didn't like.  As my sister told me, people come to her salon all the time to alter their appearance so she really doesn't look at this as being any different - just a little more permanent.

Proud of Daddy

Today has definitely been a day of remembrance for me.  I did not know anyone who was killed on 9/11/01 but my heart hurt for all those families who lost loved ones.  I think as each year passes it affects me even more as I think about what it would have felt like to know their children were trapped in the tower, or to know that mothers and fathers perished.  Today certainly reminds me how lucky I am and makes me want to hug and kiss my boys all day.  We skyped with Daddy this morning who has been gone overseas continuing to fight to keep us safe.  We are so proud of him and the work he is doing, and so proud to have him in our family when days like this come around and others are reminded of the sacrifices still being made to keep horrific events from happening on our soil.

Ten years ago I was wrapping up my clinical rotation for my dietetic internship.  I was in my car headed to Southern Maine Medical Center when the news came across the radio.  A plane had hit one of the towers.  I remembering picturing a little cessna.  Something with a few seats that maybe got out of control and nicked the skyscraper.  But then another announcement came on that the second tower had been hit by another plane.  I thought it was a joke.  It wasn't April fool's day, but you never know about the sick humor of some morning radio show hosts.  I got to the hospital and it was on tv's everywhere.  It was like a nightmare.  They kept showing it over and over again, but I couldn't believe it was happening and not just a preview for another end of the world movie.  After leaving the hospital I started calling my parents, but couldn't get ahold of them.  They were nowhere near New York City, but I just wanted to hear their voices.  I wanted to tell them what had happened since I was sure that they had been cut off from the news in their remote location in the eastern Maine woods.  I didn't want to be alone, so I went to the tavern I had been working at and just sat there rolling silverware in napkins with the other employees while we continued to watch the news.  It was scary.  Scary to think that these terrorists could so easily get on board a plane and take it over.  Scary that we had become so complacent with our security measures that something like this could happen.

I remember that day like it was yesterday.  An incredibly sad occasion that still brings tears to my eyes.  I shared minimal footage with my 5-year-old so that he could understand which "bad guys" it was that Daddy leaves us to fight.  He thought it was a movie.  Kept asking if Batman or Spiderman lived in New York City and were going to fight the bad guys.  Sorry, little man, those people had superheroes like the Firefighters to help them out.  And now we have superheroes like Daddy to make sure we stay safe.   

Perfectionism - Desired trait or curse?

Seeing as though I possess this quality, I can definitely say it is a little of both.  It certainly is my most often used attribute when asked about strengths at an interview.  But at times it can be a bit waring.  Is everything in a perfectionist's world perfect?  No!  I think you'd have to carry some degree of OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder) for this to be the case.  In a perfectionist's world, your mind simply chooses particular things that it deems important to make perfect.  Do you have control over this?  Maybe, but your mind makes a pretty compelling argument which you can't reason against.

Okay, so why am I rambling on about perfectionism?  Well, because my stupid brain decided that instead of cleaning up the house to prepare for a visit from my sister tomorrow, I should instead mow the lawn.  Oh, but wait... it gets better.  Once the lawn was mowed and I was putting the yard bin back by the driveway, suddenly the perfectionist neuron activated.  For some reason my brain was able to convince me that I could not possibly have company arrive tomorrow and see that I had not properly hosed down the driveway and removed all weeds from any cracks/crevices.  What??  Why did my mind decide this was of vast importance?  That stuff is all covered the moment you park the car!  It took a solid hour just to get it... yup, perfect!!  Imagine all the cleaning inside the house I could have accomplished in that amount of time!  Cleaning that actually needed to be done as opposed to this frivolous crap I just did.  Grrrrrr.

Does it come in handy to have that much attention to detail?  Well... I'm rarely disappointed with projects I complete, my bosses have always given me rave reviews, and now my sister and I can eat our dinner right off the driveway if we wanted to.