Always last

I guess that's part of being the youngest child, no matter what my age is.

I'm always last... Last to date. Last to drive. Last to play sports. Last to graduate high school. Last to serve a mission. Last to get married. Last to finish college.

Last to have kids.

That's the one that's on my mind right now. Well, I've been contemplating it for quite some time now, honestly. This is just the first I've really decided to express it publicly. All of my friends and family are pregnant and having children. It's such a happy time and it's all so exciting! I love seeing lives starting and other lives progressing. I love playing with and spoiling my nephews and nieces and close friends' kids. And for a while now I've found myself wishing I had some of my own.

And it seems like over and over I'm told that I'm just baby crazy because everyone around me is having babies.

Is there something wrong with wanting to increase my womanhood to motherhood? Is there something wrong with me for wanting to nurture an infant and teach growing children about life, the gospel, and love? Is there something wrong with me for letting my maternal instinct out? Am I wrong for admitting that I'm no longer terrified of marriage and having a family?

Well I'll stand up for myself since only one other person has when I bring it up. No, there is absolutely nothing wrong with any of that.

So don't tell me I'm "just baby crazy" and that I'm being silly. Don't say "it'll pass," it's only a phase, and I'll be glad later when I don't have children burdening me down. Because for the first time in my entire life, I want kids. I've feared that I'd never want them, never wish for them, and then I'd have them just because of obligation and expectation. And I've always feared that I'd be a terrible mother because of it.

Don't persuade me not to have children yet. Do you think that helps? Why can't someone reassure me that having children is fantastic and fun and a wonderful part of life? Why do you only tell me about the grueling parts of it? Well life itself will always be grueling. I'm stuck with that no matter what. How much more 'preparation' do I need? A few more years? Just so I'm 'older' or 'more experienced' or so that I can enjoy time with my husband? Older won't let me have as many kids, and what other experience do I need so that I can have kids? Will I stop enjoying time with my husband all together if we have kids (even though I know there won't be nearly as much of it)?

Doesn't having children add another dimension to life? Sure, it brings it's own challenges with it, but since when has life been free of trials and difficulties anyway?

I guess I'm just frustrated with the lack of support I feel when I express the fact that I want to have kids, while everyone who is having children gets all this love and praise. When I'm pregnant will I ever get that or will I only hear others tell me it was a poor choice and a bad idea?

As excited as I am for Ben and Trina, Marissa and Brandon, Natalie and Brett, and so many others (which, I'm seriously beside myself with excitement for all of them), I'm also hurting in about that same amount. I just can't figure out what to do with it. I'm not jealous--not at all because those families all deserve to have those beautiful children and all the love and happiness life has to offer. With all my heart I hope for lots of laughter and unlimited smiles as those children grow.

I'm just not sure what to do with this.... other feeling. I'm suppose I'm sad, because I want that kind of love and support. Well, whether or not I ever have it, I'm still going to have children when it's time (and I do hope it's soon, to be honest). No one can persuade me differently, regardless of how difficult it might make everything. Just keep those degrading thoughts to yourself and stop adding to my struggles.

... ... ... ... ...

Okay.

Perhaps that was too much information, and maybe it made you feel awkward. But I needed it out of my head. And now that it's out, I can move on and stop letting it bother me.

Bob's first sewing project:

I've been sewing since age 7, and Bob's mom's been sewing for years as well. But Bob has never sewed, not even his boyscout patches.

Monday I wasn't feeling well, so I laid in bed most of the day with an upset stomach and a headache. Bob organized some left over messes from the move for most of the day. (What a fun Labor Day. So much for a great 3-day weekend.)

After a little while I noticed it got really quiet. I knew Bob hadn't left, but I got curious. So I walked out and found him sitting at my craft table with a rectangle of fabric in front of him, carefully smoothed out. He looked up at me sheepishly.

"Whatcha doin'?" I asked.
"Attempting to make something." Then he added, "I'm not sure what to do next," he admitted.

I had complained about how annoying my little method was for saving grocery bags earlier that day. Every time I open the cabinet under the kitchen sink, the grocery bag filled with other grocery bags falls off of its little hanging place on the back of the cabinet door. So Bob went on to explain that his mom has a fabric grocery-bag holder, only it's this huge tube of fabric. He decided that we didn't need one quite that size, so he was trying to figure out how to do it himself. I think he wanted it to be a surprise, but realized he needed my help and wasn't sure how to ask.

So I gave him suggestions. I'd go back and lay down, and a couple of minutes later he called me back out to help him again. That happened a few times, and then a little while later he walked into the bedroom and proudly presented the finished product:

He did a great job! 

And even though he used some of my vintage fabric that I got from Nin's attic without asking, it didn't even matter by the end. After I threaded the sewing machine and showed him how to use it briefly, he did the rest all by himself!

It looks so good that we're not putting it under the kitchen sink like we had originally planned. It's hanging in the bathroom on the hand-towel rack where it adds a little fun color to the corner by the window.

Not bad for his first sewing project!

It'll make a funny story later...

I know there are a lot of things in life that are painful, difficult, or unpleasant, but a lot of time it makes for a good story later. I have had countless experiences like that--how I got my chipped tooth, the time I got food poisoning and my puke changed every shade of the rainbow in a single day, the time I got food poisoning from Jack in the Box while on a cabin trip, the time(s) I accidentally punched Bob in the face, just to name a few.

Luckily the one that happened today wasn't nearly as unpleasant as those.

I woke up to Bob's alarm around 6am, reached over and tried to wake him up.... And then I woke up at 7:30 because it was getting so light in our room. Bob was still in bed and was 30 minutes late for work. I didn't have to get up until 8, so I reached over and nudged Bob to tell him to call his supervisor.

"Bob, you're late for work. You better call Zack."
No response.
"Bob! Go call Zack!"
To which Bob replied, in a most exasperated, sarcastic and rude voice,"Fine....... ZACK!!!"

It actually hurt my feelings at the time because of how much of a jerk he was being about it.
'Fine,' I thought. 'I'll just let you be late. I won't even try to wake you up again.'
So I got up at 8 and showered, and as I was getting my wallet out of my purse in the bedroom to put in my backpack just before walking out the door, Bob woke up and said good morning to me. I just glared at him and said, "I'm going to class," and forced a goodbye kiss out of myself.

It wasn't until he came home for lunch that I told him about it. And we both laughed about how silly we were. "So that's why you were being mean towards me this morning...." Bob realized through his chuckling. "I don't even remember doing that. I'll have to tell Zack about it!"

And so, the moral of this story is don't ever take Bob seriously or personally while he's sleeping, even if he seems like he's awake....


On second thought, don't even take him seriously or personally while he's awake either.

roll-up pencil case

I hate things that are designed poorly. I guess that comes with my major, but really, I've always hated that. Even simple things like the hooks on the back of bathroom-stall doors. I hate that they frequently can't hold a purse or jacket like they're meant to, all because they're designed badly.

One thing I really don't like are pencil cases. I hate them. I bought a hard plastic one last year, and within 2 months it was breaking. I hate the fabric ones because the zipper won't open far enough for me to dig around and find the pen I need, so I end up dumping everything out on the desk, and then my pens are taking up the whole desk and I have to put all but the one I need back away before I can get to sketching.

I'm just anal and irritable. I know.

But with school starting, I need to be organized so I don't lose my mind with everything I have to do in the next few weeks and throughout the semester. So I came home from school yesterday and made my own pencil case.

It's perfect.

Here's my favorite picture I took of it.

I was searching through my fabric, and picked a color scheme. I originally decided on the brown and green, and then as I was looking at all my ribbon I found this cute and colorful tree ribbon. So I went with it and made the outside of the case match the ribbon print.

And I love it! It only took a couple of hours from start to finish. It's 22 inches long by 9 inches wide. It holds 20 pens/pencils, plus 6 little containers of pencil led (I use different hardnesses and colors of led, so they're nice to have handy). There is batting between the inside and outside layers for padding and to protect the led from breaking if dropped.

I think I'll make one for my paintbrushes too.
What else can this kind of thing be used for? I'm thinking about Christmas gifts now... Hey Lauren, how many crochet needles do you have? ;)