Is it really almost over?

Ok, so I honestly feel that this topic is already getting overdone, but is summer really almost over already? I mean the past couple of nights the weather has been very cool. Almost chilly. I walked through target and had to avoid the school supplies because I'm a junkie when it comes to that stuff. I really wanted to make home-made soup the other day. All I could think about was October and how the Family channel always has like 30 days of scary stuff on TV. I got super-excited. Now the beginning of the school year always brings mixed emotions for me. So much of my job revolves around the school calendar, and my hardest time of year is at the very beginning, and requires me to be to work by 6:15 and usually work until about 6pm. But there is something about sipping a hot cup of coffee on my drive to a school, and watching the sun come up. Being back in the schools is fun. And before we know it, its Christmas. And this year, that will mean a new little bundle at our house. This too, has me nervous and excited. I'm not ready to say goodbye to summer yet, but I am started to get pumped for fall!

Please tell me what you think of the following potential boys names:
(Which you like most and least, etc.)

Elliot
Benjamin
Griffin
Bennet
Colton
Miles
Sebastian

Reasons unknown

I forgot the date. I don't know what that means. The month of July befuddles me. I spend the beginning, dreading the end, but then can't remember the actual date of my mom's death. Her murder. Its terrible to forget, but I don't know if its worse to remember. I had to dig. I had to know in that moment that I forgot. I had to make myself remember. I had to pull out the police report and look at the officer's small script, and make myself remember. Once I saw the date, I shoved the report back into the file cabinet. I want to remember, but I don't want to remember everything. There are parts I want to forget. There are parts I never wanted to know. There are parts I still don't know. I forget her voice. I want to hear it in my head. Her laugh, but I can't. We couldn't afford a video camera. I have no way to replay that sound for me. That sound I heard so often, for so many years. The sound that followed me long after she stopped dancing with me to the King and I. She taught me to waltz, to The King and I. The sound that chased me as I rode my toothpaste green Aquafresh bike she won for me in one of her contests. I can't hear it anymore. I try. I try but it won't come back. I can vaguely make out my name on her lips. I can almost hear her call me Samantha. I was never Sam to her. Never, in all my years. I still know her smell. It haunts in the mall, as I pass some woman wearing her perfume. But by the time I catch it, the lady is passed, the smell gone. Its strange how life continues, and how our memories are made to fade. I am sure we are made that way for a reason. Reasons unknown. How depressing. Don't worry too much. I'm sure my blogs will pick up in mood once the 21st passes.
July 21, 2004. The date.

That time of year

So, we're coming up on the anniversary of my mom's death. I thought that each year it would get easier, but generally speaking, it just doesn't. At least now, more of the memories and thoughts are happy moments that I reflect on, instead of pure sadness. I miss her as much as ever, though I obviously don't let it rule my life. Something about July makes me anxious and sad. Yesterday a young girl came in to fill out an application for employment where I work, and her phone rang. It was the ring that was on my cell phone when I got the call about my mom. . .and somehow it still makes me sick to my stomach to hear it. I was listening to music that I hadn't heard in quite some time, and Nickel Creek's "When You Come Back Down" brought me to tears, as it was a CD I shared with my mom. So I leave you with these lyrics.


"When You Come Back Down"

You got to leave me now, you got to go alone
You got to chase a dream, one that's all your own
Before it slips away
When you're flyin' high, take my heart along
I'll be the harmony to every lonely song
That you learn to play

When you're soarin' through the air
I'll be your solid ground
Take every chance you dare
I'll still be there
When you come back down
When you come back down

I'll keep lookin' up, awaitin' your return
My greatest fear will be that you will crash and burn
And I won't feel your fire
I'll be the other hand that always holds the line
Connectin' in between your sweet heart and mine
I'm strung out on that wire

And I'll be on the other end, To hear you when you call
Angel, you were born to fly, If you get too high
I'll catch you when you fall
I'll catch you when you fall

[Bridge:]
Your memory's the sunshine every new day brings
I know the sky is calling
Angel, let me help you with your wings

When you're soarin' through the air
I'll be your solid ground
Take every chance you dare

I'll still be there
When you come back down
Take every chance you dare,
I'll still be there
When you come back down
When you come back down

Nothing very exciting

Today we went and bought some vegetable plants from a local nursery. The lady was so glad they were wanted in time to plant, that she gave them to us for free. She said that she was just happy to see them get a home, because if they weren't planted soon they were going to go to waste. I'm not sure if they will take, but if they do, we'll have some heirloom tomatoes, butternut squash, zucchini, broccoli, and wax beans to add to our already awesome tomatoes, basil and rosemary plants. I'm excited to give it a shot. Its nice to be able to put my energy into something positive and productive. I've been a bit discouraged with certain circumstances in my life, which I cannot really go into on the blog. I just see the possibility of my life taking a different path soon, whatever that means, I am not totally sure. I'm excited to see what the future brings with the new baby and such. Life is good. God is good.

Is a feminist a bad Christian?

Ok, so this could be a touchy topic for people, and I encourage you to comment if you wish, but also recommend that you not read the following entry if you are either vehemently feminist or extreme on the opposite end of the spectrum. That forewarning being said, we delve into touchy issues that may upset anyone that might read this post.

So, I was driving home from work, and happened to be listening to Moody radio, which I both enjoy and question on a regular basis. Today's topic, at the time of my drive, was that of submission to your husband. This is a topic that can be delicate for many women, and I am one of those. I don't know if it is my upbringing or my liberal arts college degree, but something gets me every time I listen to a sermon, speech, radio show, basically anything that talks about a woman's role being to submit to her husband. I also struggle with the position that it is a woman's role to submit to her husband in all things, and that their is joy in total obedience to this way of life. I feel that marriage is an equal partnership, and that we both give and take on a regular basis.

The thing that got me the most about this particular discussion was the topic of a woman's role of submission to her husband's sexual requests. The speakers emphasized a woman's role physically to be submitting to her husband despite her emotional state or level of energy. I guess I just plain disagree that a woman should put out whenever her husband wants it because it is their role to submit to their husband. I do realize that there are times when one must compromise their immediate wants and desires to give to someone else, but I find it highly disturbing to think that a woman should think of themselves as merely an avenue for their husband's needs. Am I selfish? Too forward thinking? Am I flat out wrong? I don't know. I suppose in an ideal world, if a woman was always willing to submit themselves physically then a good husband would be respectful of their needs as well, and perhaps not push at a difficult time for them. They just focused on the fact that a woman's body is not her own and that if it is truly God's, than this is the way to live. Every fiber of my being says that this can't be right.

So, thats my crazy rambling vent. Sorry if I offend, but I just get very frustrated when I think that a woman is most of all a means of sexual gratification for her husband.