For the love of...

This past weekend Greasemonkey and I decided to get away for a little date night.  We had a gift certificate to Rodizio Grille, so we ended up at Trolley Square.  After dinner we had a little time, so we decided to wander around Trolley for a minute.  It was then that we stumbled upon the most magical place I've ever been. I'm sure this isn't a new place, but it was new to me.  The moment we walked through the door of Weller Book Works, I knew I'd be back for more.  Let me tell you about this incredible place:

I walked through the front door into a room full of antique, rare, and vintage collections of books.  Through a small back door labeled "More Books This Way," a whole world opened up. The first thing I noticed was the smell.  Oh, that glorious, wonderful, musty, lovely odor of well loved books. I trailed my hands along the exposed brick wall to the staircase in the corner. I trod down the stairs into a veritable wonderland of mostly used books.

I sent Greasemonkey away on a made up errand so I could have a moment to myself.  It was at this point that my emotions, quite literally, overcame me.  I broke out in goosebumps and got teary-eyed.  You see, that's what books do to me: they reach right into my heart and tug on the strings that reside there. I wandered aimlessly for several minutes trying to compose myself. It wasn't happening. I trailed my fingers along the spines of the well-loved tomes and let the tears flow for a awhile.

Books speak to me in a way that nothing else can.  They are more than just words on a page.  They are more than just stories.  They are more than just pages in a binding.  There are entire worlds contained between those beautiful, worn covers.  There are lives, feelings, hopes, dreams, and so much more in those beautiful pages. It is an escape from the mundane, the every day, and the hardships of the real world. I am a die-hard book lover.  I have been having a love affair with the written word for as long as I can remember. It is a love that I hope to instill in T-Bone, as well.

Anyway, back to my aimless wandering:  I stumbled upon a true hidden treasure.  Many of you know that I am a life-long fan of Roald Dahl.  What a lot of people don't know is that before he wrote some of his better-known books, he wrote many short stories for magazine and newspaper publishing. Well, I found a copy of The Roald Dahl Omnibus. And it was only $10.  Seriously?  I snatched it off the shelf and hugged it to my chest while I went off in search of Greasemonkey. I knew that if I didn't get that book I'd kick myself all the way home.  Forget the fact that we were on the motorcycle and it was 600 pages long.  I would find a way to get it home.  After convincing him that I didn't just want it, I NEEDED it, we left that wonderful book haven the proud new owners of an omnibus. I zipped it into my jacket for safe keeping on the ride home and we ceased the nights adventures.

So, you see, this rare gem of a book store made me forget about life for awhile.  It melted my cares away and it melted my heart.  For my first true love will always be books.

A bit of a whine

I'm not feeling so hot today. Physically, there isn't anything wrong with me, but in my heart I'm hurting. You see, I was supposed to be having a baby next month. True story.  You can read the background here. I've since come to the realization that it wasn't time for us to have another one yet.  T-bone needs me right now, and he needs me all to himself.  I get that.  Emotionally, I'm not ready for another baby yet (you can read more on the "why" of that here).
Anyway, not the point, let me get back to that... The point is this:
In the past year I have had no fewer than 25 friends announce pregnancies. I wish that were a gross exaggeration, but it's not.  If anything, it's an underestimate. In the past 3 days, I've seen at least 5 new announcements, not to mention a phone call from a friend of Greasemonkey's saying that they'd actually just birthed a 3rd child that we didn't know they were expecting.
And all of it kind of hurts. I know, I don't have anything to complain about.  I have several friends that, for whatever reason, aren't able to have children without medical intervention, or can't have children at all.  I am so blessed to know that my body has the ability to get pregnant and carry a baby to full term. I am so blessed to have my sweet T-bone. And I'm so happy for all of my friends expecting children. This isn't to take away from their joy, not in the least. I know that many of them have waited a long time for the children they are expecting. I know that they will be wonderful parents and that they will love their babies with everything they have.
I know it's not our time yet, but it still hurts.

The Women we Become After Children

"We change shape, we buy low-heeled shoes, we cut off our long hair. We begin to carry in our bags half-eaten [snacks], a small tractor, a shred of beloved fabric, a plastic doll. We lose muscle tone, sleep, reason, perspective. Our hearts begin to live outside our bodies. They breathe, they eat, they crawl and-look!-they walk, they begin to speak to us. We learn that we must sometimes walk an inch at a time, to stop and examine every stick, every stone, every squashed tin along the way. We get used to not getting where we were going. We learn to darn, perhaps to cook, to patch the knees of dungarees. We get used to living wtih a love that suffuses us, suffocates us, blinds us, controls us. We live. We contemplate our bodies, our stretched skin, those threads of silver around our brows, our strangely enlarged feet. We learn to look less in the mirror. We put our dry-clean-only clothes to the back of the wardrobe. Eventually, we throw them away. We school ourselves to stop saying 'shit' and 'damn' and learn to say 'my goodness' and 'heavens above'. We give up [parties], we colour our hair, we search the vistas of parks, swimming pools, libraries, cafes for other of our kind. We know each other by our [strollers], our sleepless gazes, the beakers we carry. We learn how to cool a fever, ease a cough, the four indicators of meningitis, that one must sometimes push a swing for two hours. We buy [cookie] cutters, washable paints, aprons, plastic bowls. We no longer tolerate delayed buses, fighting in the street, smoking in [public], sex after midnight, inconsistency, laziness, being cold. We contemplate younger women as they pass us in the street, with their cigarettes, their makeup, their tight-seamed dressed, their tiny handbags, their smooth, washed hair, and we turn away, we put down our heads, we keep on pushing the pram up the hill."

The Hand that First Held Mine

by Marrie O'Farrell

Ask any mom you know and she will tell you that this is the truth... and that she wouldn't change it for the world. 

It's just a hobby

#23- List your top 5 hobbies and why you love them.


I am a dabbler in many things, a master of none.  I think, however, that I can come up with 5 hobbies.

1. Cooking: I like to cook.  It soothes me. I like to try at least one new recipe a week. Pinterest has been my downfall on this one...

2. Needle crafts (knitting, sewing, crocheting, stitchery, quilting, etc): My mom got me started sewing quilts at a young age, and I've loved that ever since.  I learned to crochet in college, I learned to knit last year, and I've been stitching for awhile.  I love the "mindlessness" of these hobbies, I can just let my hands go while my mind wanders elsewhere.

3. Photography: I do this one purely because I love to.  I like having nice pictures of things and people I love.

4. Reading: There is nothing in this world that quite equals curling up with a good book. It is an escape for the heart, mind, and soul.

5. Writing: I don't do this one nearly often enough anymore, but someday I would like to write a book.  Someday...

Futurama

#22- Where do you see yourself in 5 years? 10 years? 15 years?

5 years: It will be 2017.  I will be 32, Greasemonkey will be almost 38, and T-Bone will be 6. I'll hopefully be finished with my Bachelor's Degree by then. I'd love to be working in the OR, but it's a tough place to find an in. I'd love to have one or 2 more kids by then, since T-Bone will be getting ready to start 1st grade (holy cow!). We'll probably still be living in our same house, but I'll definitely be driving a bigger car.

10 years: It will be 2022. I will be 37, Greasemonkey will be pusing 43, and T-Bone will be 11. (Just to put a little bit of perspective on 10 years: I was getting ready to start my Senior year of high school 10 years ago).  I'd like to be out of floor nursing by then, hopefully working for an insurance company, workman's comp, etc. I'd like to be done having kids, possibly with a few of my own and a few adopted.  I've always wanted to adopt a couple of kids, I feel like there are a lot of kids out there that need good homes, and if I can provide that for them, I should. Anyway, chances are pretty good we'll still be living in our same house, but hopefully there will be some young families in the ward by then. Although, ten years from now we won't be such a young family anymore.

15 years: It will be 2027. I will be 42, Greasemonkey will be knocking on the door of 48, and T-Bone will be 16 (my baby will be driving!).  If I stay with IHC, I will have been with the company for 22 years at this point. That'd be pretty cool. Hopefully by this point Greasemonkey will be managing his own branch of MotoStation.  My kids should all be in all-day school at this point, so I'd love to go back to school for my Master's Degree.  It would be pretty awesome to be able to teach Nursing, I'd even love to just lead clinicals. Let's not lie, we'll probably still be in our same house in the same old neighborhood. It is a good place to raise a family and teenagers, after all. Oh, and I'll probably still be driving the car from the 5 year mark.

Super

21. If you could have one super power, what would it be and what would you do with it first?

I've been thinking on this one for quite awhile.  I've been trying to figure out what it would actually be.  The power of invisibility would be pretty cool. Flying would be pretty awesome as well. Honestly, though, I think that the best superpower would be, wait for it... the power to apparate.  

Think about it: the ability to transport yourself (and anyone holding onto you) anywhere you want to go. 

Dinner in Paris? Done.
Shopping and a Broadway show in New York? No problem. 

A day at Disneyworld and Harry Potter Land?  Bring it on.

Seriously, best. Superpower. Ever. 

Oh, and as for what I'd do with it first: let's not lie, I'd take Greasemonkey to Disneyland for our anniversary.  He hasn't been in 25 years, after all.

The one where I might insult people...

Ok, deep breaths.  You can do this, Annabelle, you can do this. I've been mulling this idea over, chewing on it, trying to decide if I'm brave enough to actually write this post. I can't stop myself. I so strongly feel the need to speak up on a subject that has been niggling at me for awhile now.

Kids, friends, lovely readers, it's time to talk 50 Shades of Grey. 

Now, I will state right up front that I have not read the books, nor do I ever intend to read the books. I'm basing this purely on what I have read about them, heard about them from others, and reactions I've seen across America lately. I, however, can't in good conscience keep my mouth shut on this one. 

I fully admit that I have read my fair share of trashy romance novels. I'll even go so far as to say that there was a time in my life that I was addicted to them. I will also fully admit that they gave me false ideas of what love, sex, and intimacy are like.  They did not prepare me for real relationships, and in fact, probably hindered me. It took me quite a long time to realign my reality with my imagined perception.

Anyway, back to my point.  50 Shades goes above and beyond the typical "romance" category.  Here is the synopsis from GoodReads:

"When literature student Anastasia Steele is drafted to interview the successful young entrepreneur Christian Grey for her campus magazine, she finds him attractive, enigmatic and intimidating. Convinced their meeting went badly, she tries to put Grey out of her mind - until he happens to turn up at the out-of-town hardware store where she works part-time.

The unworldly, innocent Ana is shocked to realize she wants this man, and when he warns her to keep her distance it only makes her more desperate to get close to him. Unable to resist Ana’s quiet beauty, wit, and independent spirit, Grey admits he wants her - but on his own terms.

Shocked yet thrilled by Grey's singular erotic tastes, Ana hesitates. For all the trappings of success – his multinational businesses, his vast wealth, his loving adoptive family – Grey is a man tormented by demons and consumed by the need to control. When the couple embarks on a passionate, physical and daring affair, Ana learns more about her own dark desires, as well as the Christian Grey hidden away from public scrutiny.

Can their relationship transcend physical passion? Will Ana find it in herself to submit to the self-indulgent Master? And if she does, will she still love what she finds?

Erotic, amusing, and deeply moving, the Fifty Shades Trilogy is a tale that will obsess you, possess you, and stay with you forever."

First, a little background on the book: it was written as a fan-fic of Twilight.  That's right, the characters of Ana and Christian are based on Edward and Bella.  It was originally published as a web-only story, then split into 3 books and virally marketed. Ok, I can deal with that.  What I can't deal with is the subject matter.  I'm not an idiot, and I wasn't born yesterday.  I know that erotic literature exists in the world.  I know that there are BDSM relationships out there.  I know that some people love that kind of thing. 

I don't understand the mommy community's fascination, and obsession, with it.  Some statistics are showing that the book's biggest fan-base is married women over 30.  It has even been dubbed "mommy porn".  It is a scientifically proven fact that men are aroused and excited by visual images, pictures, etc. Women are excited and aroused by words, actions, and the like.  I balk at the idea of reading this book.  When people hear me say that, they often ask me why.  My response?  I would be devastated if my husband looked at porn, why would it be ok for me to stimulate myself in the same way.  Pornography is not acceptable in my house, no matter who is looking at it. I was appalled to see this sitting open-stocked on a table at Costco yesterday. That means it was in full reading view of anyone who decided to pick it up, whether that be our young teenage daughters, our impressionable children, or whoever.

So, why has the popularity of this series exploded?  Why are wives, mothers, and daughters everywhere accepting this smut into their lives, their minds, and their souls?  Why is there a double standard? Are we really so sexually deprived as women that we feel the need to turn to erotica?

There's a chance I will lose some of you over this post, but I just couldn't keep it in any longer.  If you have read the series, would you mind giving me your reasons as to why you liked it?  I, for one, am choosing to not follow the crowd.  I will stand firm in my conviction to keep my mind free from the degrading influence of pornography.