I'm jealous

I think it is safe to say that we all envy someone for something whether it be materialistic or not.  To me it is just a reality that someone has something that you want.  Plain and simple.  There are plenty of materialistic things that I want but I'm really jealous of those things.  I just want them and can't or don't have them.  I can easily move on from that.

What am I jealous of you ask?

I am jealous of people who have a passion.  A few years ago (because I'm a quitter) I had started a blog that was entirely dedicated to me finding a passion.  I didn't do very well at keeping up with it (obviously) but at least it was something that got the wheels turning in my head.

It irks me to the umteenth degree when people talk about having this great passion for something but choose to do nothing with it.  Sometimes I wonder are you just saying that because if you say it enough times you will start to believe that this is your passion??  Or do you really have a passion for "it".  I mean if I really had a passion for something I feel like it would seep out of my pores, like last night's garlic on a 95-degree day.  You would find ways to incorporate it into your everyday life.  It would be every other thought in your head.

Now that doesn't mean that you couldn't be good at other things and do other things but if it were a passion, I feel like people would know.  It would be something that you were always working on... improving... perfecting.  Maybe I am completely off my rocker in this kind of thinking but that is what runs through my head.

This blog post idea came to me because my husband and I were talking about someone we both know and their passion.  My thoughts on the situation were, I've known them for over 10 years and that is something that barely has ever come up in conversation.  I look at people like my Aunt Sarah, she LOVES music.  She spent a good portion of her life making sure that music was a major component in it.  Even through all the chapters in her life, there has been that love and passion for music.  She made sure that people knew about it and was never ashamed to admit it.

There are many people who I'm sure struggle with this same thing.  I mean when you look at other blogs, YouTube, Instagram, Facebook, and other the many social media outlets, there are always those people who are super inspiring because of the passion that they display about something (whether it be makeup, fitness, food, photography, shoes, nails, hair, soap, etc.) that they love!  Yes, I'm aware that social media is what you make of it but these people have made something of it.  They are so engrossed in what they feel and love that you find their presence undeniably magnetic.  It is amazing!

I find those people fascinating.  I watch and read things that I had little to no interest in just because I've found someone who is so in love with it that I like to see the enthusiasm that they show.  So if you have a passion, work on it, improve it, perfect it.  I applaud you!

What is your passion?

I need to work

Yup, I look something like this... belly and all right now.

I'm sure I've said it before but I work a white collar 9-to-5 type job.  It's a very nice job where I like my boss and everything.  In addition to liking my boss, I get paid vacation time.  It is wonderful.  The problem is that I haven't used much of it this year because we didn't go on a real scheduled vacation.  I've just been using those days to take care of personal things, like doctor's appointment and such.  Nothing exciting.  I've also thrown in a few days of just relax (aka still send your child off to be looked after but clean your house for real).

Well a few Fridays ago I decided to take the whole day off.  I thought it would be a good idea to not just take the afternoon off for my doctor's appointment at 1 pm but also to get a few pampering type things done.  I'm not much for taking the time to really pamper myself because I always feel like I'm barely making it through the day with the time I have.  I did however notice that my (way too) long hair was looking more than ragged on the ends.

I looked over my vacation time and thought, "what the heck, I may as well just take the whole day."  Maybe I should have stuck to just taking the half day...

It started off as a fairly innocent day.  I managed to squeeze an appointment in to get a wash, trim, and quick style first thing in the morning.  My hairdresser was really wonderful, I was late (so sorry about that!) because she is in a new location that I just kept driving past.  Whoops!  By late I mean less than 5 minutes but I know that if I'm late 5 minutes and the next person is too, then you are 10 minutes behind by the time you get to your 3rd appointment and it can snowball into something quite ugly.  Either way, I wasn't sure how long my hair was going to take so I got the first appointment.  It worked out well, my hair was wonderful and I had time to spare before my doctor's appointment.

Check out my hair!  Don't mind the creepy face.  I take terrible selfies.

Having time to spare between the appointments is where the trouble began.  I had just about 2 hours to perform some damage on my credit card.  I was going to just run to to Ulta for something small.  Something so small that as I write this I can't even remember what it is.  I decided that maybe I should look in TJ Maxx before I go there because whatever it was I thought I might luck upon in there.  It's happened to me many times before and wanted me to kick myself for not checking first.  I mean they're right across the parking lot from each other.

So, into TJ Maxx I went.  I have a routine where I always check for the soap and lotion that my husband loves before I do anything else in the store.  It's kind of hard to find, I've only found it at Target once before and then they didn't sell it anymore.  I mean one time he was completely out and we ordered it from Scotland.  Needless to say, it's way more expensive doing it that way then stockpiling bottles and things like a hoarder in my linen closet.

This is the body butter. It smells so amazing!!  

As I foolishly kept strolling around the store looking for things I probably didn't need I walked by a mirror.  If you ever came to my house you'd probably think that we are really vain people because there are quite a few large mirrors in our house but really we just like them and how they make rooms look bigger.  They are convenient for making sure you don't look like a complete clashing queen as you leave the safety of your home.  According to my brain, I "needed" this mirror.  It would look perfect in the spare bedroom or in our room and it would allow me to hide all of my jewelry that is haphazardly hung on my dresser and in the bathroom.  It seemed great.  

This may not be the exact mirror but it's much like this one

So there we immediately crossed over the $100 mark.  We were actually quite close to the $200 mark with the lotion and soaps I'd picked up previously.  After a quick round in the candle department and the children's clothes section I thought I might be finished.  I then remembered that I wanted to get a big pillow for my daughter to lay on.  As I rolled through the linens and things, I grabbed two packs of pillows for the guest room.  I mean I'm already trying to complete the decor with look with the mirror.  It "needs" pillows on the bed... more money in the basket.  Oh, and don't forget the pillow cases either.  We're going to need those too.  More MONEY.  

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

I finally decided I must make a beeline for the cashier because I just could not stop finding things for the house, my daughter or my niece.  As I passed each section, I reminded myself to pretend to have tunnel vision.  Luckily it worked. 

The cashier must have thought I was nuts, I'd grabbed a small cart but had it jam packed.  I thought the small cart would deter me from buying more.  Wrong.  It just makes you look like an idiot for not getting a bigger cart as you carry pillows and everything else too large for the basket in your hands.  

As I managed to empty the contents of the basket and unload my arms, I'd somehow managed to spend somewhere around $350.  What??!!  As I looked over everything it all started to tally to that amount but who in the world do I think I am??  I don't have the bank account to support that kind of shopping habit.  Of course I kept it all.  

One hour down.

I thought maybe it'd be best if I just went to the doctor's office and just scrolled through Instagram or something to save myself from any more damage.  Golfsmith had something else in mind.  

My husband just purchased new clubs after nearly two whole summers without any.  His last set was a wedding gift was a set of clubs from me.  They'd been stolen from the trunk of his car at a graduation ceremony.  There were other things such as our computer, the radio and other miscellaneous things that were taken as well but the golf clubs kind of hurt us both.  I mean that was his wedding gift and on his end he'd taken the time to expand on them with some other Nike drivers and things.  Between the bag and all the hardware we were looking at a pretty penny.

In the past, I've been able to find pretty decent deals on balls and things at tent sales, so I stopped.  Again, this was a mistake.  There weren't any great balls on sale but there were clothes there for amazing prices.  I bought him six shirts for just under $65.  These were shirts that regularly cost $75, FootJoy, Nike, Adidas.  I mean it was a great deal!  Oh my goodness now I've really blown the non-existent budget that I didn't have.  

Another 30 minutes gone.

Now, I'm really just going to hang at the doctors before my appointment time.  Wrong again, as I left in shock of all the money I'd just spent, I happened to drive by HomeGoods.  Remember the big floor pillow, I was going to buy for my daughter?  Yeah, well, I didn't find a nice one at TJ Maxx.  So, let me just look really quick.  Really quick turned into a pillow for her, more soap and lotion for my husband, a laundry basket that matches the other bins in her room and a few more things for the girls.  

Aggghhhhh!!  What am I doing??  Trying to be poor?  Oh, well, I'm doing a great job trying to accomplish that.  

I was so happy that by the time I'd left HomeGoods, that I had no choice but to high-tail it to my appointment that I couldn't contain myself.  Or maybe it was more like, me trying to justify the immense guilt I was feeling for spending so much money while not being late for my appointment.  Same thing... right?  

I decided after that little two hour escapade that that is why I need to work.  I need a job to contain my time from wandering through stores filled with goodies that I may never see again prompting me to impulse buy.  

I need my job to keep me from spending money...

I was silent for a reason

Have you ever been in a situation where you made a silent gesture and received a verbal response??  Oh you have?  Wow!  That is amazing... we'll not really because I feel like at one time or another we've all been there.

What I can't understand is why on earth would you respond verbally to what I just said?  You know I am very capable of speaking with my mouth in words that are easily understood by all but I chose to not use them.  

We've all been in a situation with someone where they knew what our thoughts were on the situation.  However in one inconvenient second they forgot who we were and what those thoughts were.  It's always baffling to me that those things happen.  I mean I get that some people don't get sarcasm but dang, sometimes I just can't believe the other things that can get past people.  

Just remember that if you get a silent gesture or look (see above) don't verbally respond like a buffoon.

All or Nothing

When I have ideas my brain is like the Hoover Dam. It's either open and the ideas are pouring out so fast that I can't keep them all and some escape while generating lots of energy. Or, it's completely closed off and there is nothing but a dry wall and a slim Colorado River at the bottom with a full Lake Mead holding a wealth of ideas.

I say ask of this because I haven't been blogging and it's not because I haven't thought about it. It's more like Hoover Dam is closed and I just having nothing to write about. There are several posts that I've started and clearly never posted because you'd have seen them. It's frustrating to have this block.

Sometimes I wish that I was really into something that was constantly changing or had a wealth of products to be reviewed. Clearly I'm lacking here. I think about the people who love makeup or are super tech savvy, they have something to write about. There's always a new color, brand, line, update or something that's coming out so they have something to write about. Me? Well I just have my ranting ways to write about. Sometimes I just can't take my own bitching so I can't always write about that... that gets old. Fast.

This must be a tiny taste of what real writers go through when they say they have writers' block. I can't imagine if I were trying to write a book or something and I were lacking for ideas or direction. Just staring at the screen or paper thinking, "there is nothing here. Just vast emptiness." How frustrating. I'd probably be getting more and more frustrated by the fact that I was torturing myself by sitting there. However is tell myself that I wasn't allowed to do anything fun until I did something productive. I make stupid rules like that. For example, when I was in college I wasn't allowed to read books for fun until I'd completed my assignments or read my chapters. Why am I so mean to myself?!

Who made me think these torturous rules were a good idea??

I'm hoping that by writing this post that maybe the gates of the damn will open and I will get back on a roll again.

I don't care how long it's been since I last pumped. I'm still MAD.

This is a post about nursing and pumping so if this is the kind of thing that weirds you out or you think is gross, this is your opportunity to leave.

Go! Go now!!

If you are a mom, empathize with a mom, plan to be a mom, plan on feeding a baby breast milk, or are just plain interested in understanding how a grown woman can cry over spilled milk, well this is the post for you.  It is closing in on a year since I last pumped and it has been nearly three months since I last nursed but each and every drop of the precious milk I produced for my child was just as I described, PRECIOUS.

Maybe for people who have never pumped or didn't struggle to pump this may not be a big deal to you, but I despised pumping.  My severe aversion for the pump started the second I hooked myself up to those uncomfortable cones at the hospital.  The hospital kept sending me lactation specialists to check on how I was nursing my daughter.  We had no problems nursing.  What they should have been sending them for was to teach me how to pump.  Nursing just kind of clicked with me.  Pumping did not.

The number of problems I seemed to have endured in the beginning could have been taken as signs that I should quit.  I'm stubborn so I didn't.  I bought different size cones, inserts, soothers and even a new pump.  I bought creams and oils for days.  I Googled and YouTubed so many how to videos I started to feel like I was in my internship to be a pumping consultant.  Finally there came a point where I'd gotten good enough that I could deal with whatever discomfort came that day.

Most days I pumped 6 times or so while still nursing in between.  I carefully bagged and labeled each and every ounce.  I froze and bagged each Lansinoh bag into a gallon size bag for careful transport and to know if my supply every got low.  My goal was to get my daughter to one year with no formulas or other supplementation.  I didn't it but it definitely did not come easy.

These bags were my favorite of all the milk storage bags that I used. Never once did one of these bags leak or break like some of the others.

I made sure that I pumped until there would be enough milk until she turned one.  Nursing wasn't so bad for me so we still nursed in the morning and before bed at night until she was 15 months or so.  

I remember the day I quit pumping.  I just couldn't bring myself to pump one more time.  It definitely wasn't a planned date or anything.  That day, I'd packed all of my pump supplies, lugged it all to work and even gone to the room where I normally pumped.  I sat down in the chair, I pulled out all of the supplies.  Then I just stared at them.  I sat there for a good five minutes before I picked up my phone and called my husband.  The first thing I said to him was, "I quit."  

Those words could have been taken in a few different ways but he immediately knew what I was talking about.  His response was, "Good.  How do you feel?"  How could he have known that was what I was talking about?  Well, because he knew the struggles I'd had with it.  Maybe he didn't know the full extent of the tears that came with it but he knew that I hated it.  

See this bottle?  This was 45 minutes of torture.

Here is the part where I cry over milk...

Now, I have knocked over nearly 4 ounces of milk and nearly lost my mind.  I eventually got over it but I never forgot the carelessness that caused it to happen.  It never happened again.  

There have been two times where I found milk in bags that got wasted.  Once, I found an entire gallon sized ziplock bag full of the smaller Lansinoh bags in the trunk of my husbands car.  The other time came just earlier this week.  I found four small bags of curdled milk in a lunch bag that had been in the trunk of the car for 6 months or more.  I know we all make mistakes and forget stuff but those hurt.

The rational me had to convince the enraged pumping mother me that it was just a mistake and it happens.  I don't care how many times I tell myself it was totally unintentional that it happened, a little part inside of me starts balling like a five year old who's ice cream cone fell on the grimy sidewalk in a pile of cigarette butts.  

If you have never felt complete disdain for your pump, pumping, or have no idea how someone can be so irrational about milk just remember this post.  There are actually people who put their blood, sweat and tears into pumping.