Outting Myself

LT: I'm worried you're giving up on your dream.

Me:...my dream?

LT: Of being a blogger.

Me: Oh...it's not exactly my dream. I just haven't had anything to write about.

LT: You have a ton to blog about. You just don't want to out yourself.

It's true. I've been holding out on y'all.

Ya see...

Am I totally stoked? Yes.

Am I terrified? Also yes.

In some ways I feel like such a huge kid myself. LT and I act like colossal ass-hats most of the time. 

Anyway, Google "first trimester symptoms" and I've basically had them all. You remember posts mentioning me feeling hungover even though I hadn't been drinking? The lunchtime car naps (which still happen)? The crazy shedding? Yep, all first tri stuff. It was pretty miserable. And for all you lucky B's who are all "I never had morning sickness, teehee!" Shut up. I hate you.

Just kidding. 

Thank God it gets better in the second trimester, which I just started (15 weeks along). I was waiting until I felt better to "out myself." I wasn't really up to posting for a while (hence, the complete and total abandonment of the blog for weeks). But truthfully, it's really hard to sound excited about pregnancy when you feel like this:

Maybe some of you are going, "Dammit, another baby blog. Un-following now..." And hey, that's totally you're prerogative. I can't really make any promises about the direction my writing is going to take, or the frequency of posts.

I'm not going to let being pregnant, and one day being a mom, completely define who I am. I mean really the only thing that's changing is I have to stay sober for forever a few months. 

Well that's a lie. I'll probably get super fat, too.

I miss beer.

Much love to ya,

When Being Responsible is Hard...

Ah, home ownership.

I had so many big plans for our house before we moved in. How many have I accomplished? Exactly zero.

It's not a matter of laziness per say...There have been, ahem, circumstances (which I will reveal in time)that have slowed me down considerably. But it's more than just that. I seriously underestimated the time and money involved in the things I desperately want to do to make our house "us."

I want so badly to paint the walls a pretty color, replace the ugly powder-blue carpet, get rid of those god-awful popcorn ceilings in every room, just to bring our otherwise adorable house into this millennium. I had all these grand notions of DIY glory but soon after we moved in I got a big 'ol reality check.

Could we afford to do it this moment? Sure. Does that mean we should? Therein lies the question.

When LT and I made a decision to buy a house, there were of course a lot of factors involved. Basically it came to one thing for us: location. We wanted to be central. The thing is, you pay for that.

For the same money we could have spent on a brand new house 30-45 minutes out, we bought a 1984 2-story in a modest neighborhood- close to EVERYTHING. The grocery store, the mall, the airport, the hospital, our families and most of our friends- all within 15 minutes or less. Also we're in an awesome school district for when that time comes along. 

Yes, we hit the jackpot on location alright, but it doesn't stop the little pang of envy I feel when I make the drive to visit my friends in their gorgeous, newly built brick houses with the pretty upgrades. As cute as our house is, and as much as I know we made the right choice, I can't help but want those things too.

As tempted as I am to throw all of our savings at making our house "pretty", I have to force myself to take a step back and ask:

Can I live with it?

The cold hard truth is, yes, I can. I can live in 1984 for a while. And I just have to take it one step at a time. The people that have to have everything right now are the ones that end up broke and in trouble ("House-poor" as my Mom puts it), and that's the last thing I want for our little family.

I know we'll get all of it done eventually, one project at a time. For now I just need to count myself lucky that we, two twenty-somethings, can afford a house at all. 

It sucks being a responsible adult sometimes.

Much love to ya,