Deep Thoughts by Sierra

Do you ever come across a question that you think you know the answer to, and then it just creates more of the same kind of question? I've been reading A New Earth by Eckhert Tolle and one of the questions that came to my mind was this:

If everyone could see things for what they really are... just things... would things cease to exist all together? Could we as a species really evolve enough not to need things?

I think maybe that can only come after we die. Technically we are a thing and need things to survive. I don't think things aren't bad, they just become destracting or even dangerous when we use them to identify who we are. Things like food, housing, transportation are all necessary parts of survival in our modern world, but they are also status symbols or identifiers of personality or preference.

So, how do we NOT identify with things that we need to survive? Or deeper yet, is it wise NOT identify with the things that symbolize or embody what really matters ie. our children? Hummm.

A Barrow Date Night

Well, it was almost a date night. It sure would have been nice to have a night for just the two of us, but tonight wasn't our night. We decided to head out on the town for a burger and fries (I know, not fitness program compliant, but at least I really enjoyed an ice cream dessert too.) Anyway, we couldn't find anyone to take Kaia for the evening... so it was a decent plan for a family night.

After chasing Kaia around the restaurant and attempting to keep her off the heating stove in the middle of the dining room, we headed out to the beach where we met up with the North Slope Borough Wildlife guy. He was looking for the walrus that was reported to be in the area. We decided to take a drive down the beach to see what we could find.

And here it is:

A gigantic, tired walrus with a huge crowd of about 60. Yes, that is snow in the picture and that girl is wearing shorts and we are all less than 100 feet away from it. It's like the whole town turned up to check him out. He looked around and watched the four wheelers and kids rolling around in the sand. I wonder if he thought we were as interesting as we thought he was.

People crowded the beach and got right up close to where the walrus had hauled out. I was certain that one guy was going to play "slap the walrus" because he ran up to it so quick and got a picture right next to it! Nothing like a marine mammals protection act to be completely ignored in a village Dependant on them for survival.

I felt really bad for that poor walrus. He looked so exhausted and I'm sure he had been swimming FOREVER! The reports say that the ice pack is more than 200 miles away! and that is where he would have had to come from. I don't know where else he would have been. It's a mystery.

I just hope that the Natives don't get restless and kill him. They have already taken 6 this year and one was just poached for his head / tusks. That makes me SO ANGRY!!! Well, I will save that for another rant.

For now I will leave you with a bit of walrus trivia. Did you know that the walrus penis is proportionally the largest of all mammals and has an ivory bone that helps it erect enough for successful mating? The Natives call this piece of ivory an "Oosik", but I would have thought "Guutfaq" (their word for water arrow) would be more fitting.

PMS BS and TMI

So, I'm not pregnant and I'm starting to wonder why the hell not. Just before the start of each cycle I start thinking I have all the pregnancy symptoms, then like clockwork they all roll over into the crabby, crampy PMS symptoms. I would much rather have the pregnancy symptoms because at least they yield good product. Besides, we would really like to have another baby-- soon.

What does it take to make a baby? I haven't been on birth control since Kaia was born, and I think we are having enough sex but not too much at the right times of the cycle and then some. I was thinking that it had something to do with my health, but Kaia was conceived when I was a good 40lbs heavier than I am now and a LOT more stressed out.

Unless, by some strange irony, boredom causes infertility, I can't figure out why we aren't expecting. Maybe it's just the workings of a merciful God... mercy for whom I'm not sure, but I can't help but feel that we are in the quiet before the storm. Whatever the case, I'm at peace with it. Even though big changes are coming, I am excited about the adventure they will bring.

The problem is that I'm not sure what I am supposed to do to prepare. It's almost like every effort is just spinning my wheels and getting me nowhere. I want action! Less planning, less thinking, more doing... much more doing. I have been ancy to DO and sure enough, the opportunities just came out of the woodwork.

So, in the spirit of doing, I have signed up for a weight loss program to get rid of those last stubborn pounds and finally get control of my fitness. Committed to a workout program with a friend, and even got Hubby on board to get in shape.

I am also doing childcare to supplement our savings for a home. I have 2 great kids lined up and think it will work out beautifully. It will bring in $1200 extra each month and really has potential to do much more. I have already been approached by 2 other moms wanting me to take their kids, but I don't like kids all that much. Yah, I know. Childcare is probably not the best profession for me, but I think I am a pretty good mom and can share that for a few hours a day with 2 more kids for a few months. I do think that more than 2 might push me over the edge though, and you just can't put a price on sanity. Kudos to all you moms out there with more than 2!

I am also considering becoming a health advisor and/or pure romance consultant. These are just a few of the many ideas and opportunities that have presented themselves in the past 2 weeks and all but paralyzed me with indecision. At least with these last 2 options, I get adult interaction and can participate in activities I really like. Who knows, maybe the fitness improvements and pure romance products will inspire some baby making ideas. It will be interesting to see how things all work out.

Decision Drought

I don't know what the hell is goin' on here. I haven't been able to make a decision to save my life and it isn't just big things, it is little things. Do you want to have a diet coke or full octane coke? Ohh... ummm... uhh... Would you like to write about what happened this week, an interesting topic or just not write? Ohhh... ummm.... I haven't written in a while... uhh!

It's even Gratitude Sunday and though I have much to be grateful for, there isn't much that has happened recently to make any one of them stand out above the others. I could write about them all, but prioritizing them would require making a decision... dammit.

It is so unlike me to not know what I want. I am always so opinionated and can at least come up with a preference on an impulse. But lately, it's like I suddenly lost all cognative skills. I don't even remember the last time this happened to me... oh wait... Am I pregnant?!?!

You know the crazy thing, I think I would be happy either way... talk about indecision! Could this be a change of seasons thing a PMS gig or is this all just crazy talk? Ohh... ummm... uhh... I dunno.

So Flippin Bored!

I don't know what it is, but this town feels extra dead since I got back. Maybe it is because I was so overstimulated with family and adventure and a billion people I didn't know in airports, highways and shopping malls that are non-existent up here. Maybe it is because Barrow is just too small for me. Maybe it is because everyone is out of town on vacation.

Whatever it is, it's not working out well for me. The playground, the beach and even the family playtime at the community center were all void of any life forms. It's like a ghost town. There are very few cars on the streets and nobody hanging around doing anything. I went to the grocery store and only found 5 shoppers browsing the shelves almost intentionally avoiding eye contact and 3 cashiers who wouldn't even attempt to engage in the meaningless courtesies of the check-out process.

I am really starting to get creeped out! I have been anxious to get Kaia some play time with kids her age or even older. I don't care who (under the age of 10) pays attention to her; I just want her to have some social stimulation. The problem is that I have been looking for a week solid and have seen NO opportunities. It is time I start creating them. The unfortunate thing is that I don't know anyone with kids Kaia's age. Humm, are there people here with kids her age?

I did invite one of my friends over for a few hours of scrapbooking, but when I get in the craft mode, I tend to limit my conversation. I'm all business because it takes every ounce of concentration to keep that mode afloat. Besides, I don't know anyone here who actually likes being here and is positive enough to keep me encouraged about staying here another two, four or even six months. And sitting around bitching about how bad it sucks doesn't change the fact that it still sucks.

Who knows when we will get our ticket out of here? All I know is that I can't figure a damn thing to do and I am fresh out of patience for a clingy little girl who warms my heart and drives me batty at the very same time. I am certain she needs something I can't give her, and it kills me that I am scraping at the bottom of my sympathy jar. Any suggestions or advice would be helpful.

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On a lighter note, my daughter just interupted my hubby's sleep (he works graves) and I heard the following conversation:

KAIA: Gerbrowerow?
HUBBY: Ugh.
KAIA: pssst... prrrt. Errp?
DUBBY: Hey! I don't fart in your crib, don't fart in my bed.
KAIA: Hee, hee.

Like father like daughter. It is a curse she will carry with her for the rest of her life. I think it is a genetic Hunsaker defect. Maybe it is lactose induced. At any rate, I should really try harder to let him sleep without interruption, but I had a thought going and figured she had already done the damage of waking him up anyhow. See how bored I am? I am almost on the verge of picking a fight just so that I can feel fired up about soemthing!

Lastnights' Performance

I don't know what it is about bed time, but around 7:30 Kaia just gets so silly. It's like the curtain is raised on a mini comedy show and she litterally bounces off the walls in giggles, trips over herself and gets into everything! Lastnights' performance included the following acts: Big Daddy Clown Boots, Excerpts from Beavis and Butthead (which she has never seen, but Daddy taught her "cornhollio"), and Base Jumping (from a chair).
We all have a great time at every performance, but I can't help but wonder what brings it on.
Is it just the over tired phase gone silly? Is it a desire to impress Daddy and get his undivided attention? Is it the midnight sun messing with her sleep time or is it just her way of interacting during "family time?" I may never solve this mystery, but I have to appreciate her creativity and undeniable ability to entertain herself and everyone else.

Better Beach Days and Farty Smells

Today was a much warmer and more beautiful day so we headed out to the beach again for some play time after dinner. Kaia had a great time playing in the sand and discovering interesting tiny plants and rocks and beach debris.

It is so fun to see her play so well with Daddy and reach out to everyone extending her energetic "HIEEEE" with her most contageous smile and wave. One of these days, I will get a picture of that. I just find that if she sees the camera, she wants it IMMEDIATELY and the contageous smile becomes a whiny "WANNIT! WANNIT!"



It is amazing to me how much spunk and personality she has. Already I can tell that she has a way with people and really loves interaction with kids and the elderly. It will be interesting to see how that plays out in her development.



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On another completely unrelated note, I can't figure out for the life of me what is causing the most terrible gas I have ever had in my whole life. I've got the burps and the farts and I have NEVER suffered like this before. I think it might have something to do with green onions or eggs, but I am definitely going to stay away from those for a while to see if it helps out. Thank the lucky stars there was a strong wind on the beach today! Sorry Hubby and Kaia for the farty smell. I try to be discrete, but there is no hiding this kind of funk and keeping it in would pop me open like a pilsbury dough tube.

I Will Never Smell The Same

I just had a once in a lifetime experience this evening, and I will never smell the same again. Well, it actually started yesterday afternoon with a family beach combing trip, and I must remind you that I live in the Alaskan Arctic because this kind of thing really couldn’t happen anywhere else.

Hubby and I were up to our routine get-on-each-others-nerves-with-boredom thing when we got this great idea to borrow our neighbors “free” four wheeler to head across town and “comb” the beach on our way back. It didn’t take long to figure out why it was free. The machine is literally held together with industrial staples and there are a few issues with the exhaust, fenders, seat, ignition and tires… Oh, did I mention that it doesn't have four-wheel drive and the brakes don’t work at all? Well, it's all that and more we don't even know about.

So, we bundle up in hats and gloves, coats and sunglasses, find a piece of cardboard to be the make-shift 2^nd-man seat and away we go, baby and all. Within 10 feet I, was smelling like 4-stroke exhaust and was speckled in mud (now, you would think this is the stink I couldn’t get rid of, but there is more… so much more). I couldn’t do much about the exhaust stink at the time, but by golly I was going to keep the mud off my pants. So I pull my knees to my shoulders creating a human cage around baby strategically placed between Hubby and me. Yah, like that makes this death trap any better of an idea.

Anyway, away we go to the rock pit and down onto the beach. Within ¼ mile we come across a dead seal rocking gently in the lake-like surf. We poked at it, wondered why the Natives hadn’t relieved it of its pelt and blubber, and moved along. About a mile further down the beach, we come across the fairgrounds where the whaling crews had been celebrating the harvest. Among the slabs of whale fin and other remains, I find 2 huge whale vertebrae, just what I was looking for!

Of course with the sea-mammal protection act, we weren’t sure if we could even take the “scraps” from the Native harvest. So again, we moved along. When I got home, my Native friend Jeanne called and I told her about our exciting little trip. She asked why I didn’t pick up my fabulous finds and I explained the stipulations of the sea-mammal protection act and the fact that we didn't have a vehicle. She then said “Well, let’s go!” to which I replied “Um, go where?” which of course led us on our once in a lifetime experience… mind you it was 10:00 lastnight when we were having this phone conversation.

Immediately following our converstation, Jeanne and her sister piled into their barely-working truck and head over to pick me up. Hubby jumps back on the barely-working for wheeler, the neighbor lady comes over to keep an eye on our sleeping baby, and we all head back to the beach for our treasures. It took us all of 45 minutes to load this 200 lb. seal and the 100 lb vertibrae into the back of her truck and get back to our place.

We weren’t sure if we had good finds as we weren’t sure how long that seal had been there on the beach, and had no idea how to get the remaining whale flesh off the vertibrae, but Jeanne "knew peole." After calling her dad and performing the “freshness test” on the seal, we got the “go-ahead” to skin it and bag the blubber for a tasty treat. I didn’t even know which end to start on, or how long it would take.

I was concerned about the potential stench and was certain it would make a huge mess, but on Jeanne’s orders we hauled this beast up onto her front porch and started hacking away. Surprisingly, I gutted fish that smelled worse so the smell didn't bother me all that much... till later. It was a distinct smell that only a fish-eating predator could emit and Jeanne closed her eyes and breathed it in with meaningful reminiscence. It was so amazing to share this experience with someone who had such a history and love for the sea and all the resources it yields.

The blubber was amazingly soft, thick and so very cold, but I was surprised at how quickly it melted from the heat friction of the knives and our chilly little fingers. There was very little blood and once we got started, I didn’t even think about it being a living thing once upon a time. It took 2 hours of pulling and slashing and about a million questions, but we got that animal skinned! I had no idea how they got seal oil from blubber; now I know. I had no idea how you would skin a roly-poly sea mammal; now I know.

We finally removed the entire pelt, a whole lot of blubber and were left with a puddle of oil and a mangled carcass on Jeanne’s front porch. Now what to do with this mess? Unlike many of our neighbors, we opted NOT to leave it on Jeanne's front lawn (I think she was a little embarrassed by the hack-job we did on it but am pretty sure she wouldn't have displayed it even we did it right). Anyway, we figured we would just bring it out to the beach and return it to its maker near the landfill, but found this dumpster marked “CARCASSES AND BLUBBER ONLY.” What do you make of that!?!

I can’t find a single recycling bin anywhere in this entire town, but they have a bin specifically marked for carcasses and blubber! Whooda thunk it? We responsibly dumped the remains in the designated place and wondered what they do with carcasses and blubber once the bin is filled. Humm, some things I think are best left to mystery.

At any rate, I am convinced that seal harvesting is one of the world’s dirtiest jobs and should be featured on Discovery channel’s “Dirty Jobs.” When we got home, we figured we would just jump in a hot shower and melt the oily stink off ourselves. NO SUCH LUCK! We tried the industrial GoJo used by mechanics to cut the oil and grease of engine work, astringent-type cosmetic soaps, baby wipes, smelly bath and body soaps and really-really hot water. Nothing worked!

I have a whole new “Only in Barrow” list, but I would have done it all over again in a heart beat. Where else could I have the opportunity with such amazing friends to come out so late in the night to scavenge a seal off the beach, share so many traditions and ways of her people and teach me harvest it? If I hadn’t had the guts to go for it, I would have really missed out and regretted it forever. It was a whole family experience and is decidedly going to stay with us for a while... a long, LONG while.

Thanks to all who made this experience so amazing!

P.S. If anyone has any idea as to how to get seal-oil stink out, it would be most helpful.

Mystery, Intrigue and Homemaking

I noticed that the vacuum wasn’t doing its job effectively when I was literally going over and over the same spot only to find new and unfamiliar lint and crumbs. In the mundane tasks of keeping the house functional and clean, I had the exciting infrequent duty to change the vacuum cleaner bag. Yup, the one task that reveals all the disgusting grime that my family and friends track in and spread around all contained in one bag.

Wow, I can’t believe how much dirt my vacuum sucks up! I am not sure if it is the Barrow dirt, the baby traffic or the snack-time crumblies, but I swear that dirt weighed 10 lbs. I have never in my life changed a bag that heavy and the scary thing is that I had only changed it 3 months ago! I know that I have vacuumed more since moving to Barrow; the dirt and the grit is unavoidable up here. But Kaia didn’t start walking until just before we moved up; that could also be a large contributing factor.

Ooooh, an intriguing mystery. What is the source of the 10 lb bag? I didn’t want to redistribute that yuck in my house so I got the brilliant idea to throw it off our front porch into the trash bin (conveniently located just below our front porch… welcoming, I know, but what can we do?) Anyway, the bag was so full that it literally popped open with the impact and exploded the contents of our many times dirty home all over the bottom of the bin in one fantastic “Pooof!”

When the dust settled, I investigated the contents eagerly to determine who was the biggest culprit my vacuuming workload and wouldn’t you know it everything in there looked exactly the same… and nothing like what I know I have been vacuuming up. The mystery deepens. What is the source of all this dirt, and how does it transform into a contiguous mass of gray, dusty fluff?

I know I can’t be alone in this so I would sure love to know your thoughts on the matter. If you can't solve it yourself, please share any clues you may find in your own vacuum entrails. It can only help.

Tell Me What I Want...

Do you ever wonder if you are spending your time and energy developing what you really want? Sometimes it is hard in the mundane, every-day tasks to know if I am really on course with realizing what I want most... And then there is the ever-impressive question of what that really is in the first place.

As the Spice Girls song requests, ‘tell me what I want, what I really, really want!’ Everyone, and I do mean EVERYONE, wants something. Some try to "inspire" me to take action like ad campaigns, while others are just inspirational because they are doin their own thing. The problem is that nobody knows what I really want (including me sometimes) and what someone else (or myself in a moment of insanity) may think is inspiration is really more of a distraction. The trick is discerning the difference between the two.

I think that is where the intuition comes in; that deep sense of right or wrong that helps me discern what is good for the development of my true self and the life I want most. Great! So all I gotta do is trust my heart… right?

Well, not entirely. My experience has proven that the Law of Attraction applies regardless of whether or not what I want is aligned with my true self, the potential self a loving God created me to be. Not only do I have to trust my heart, but define and know my compass on which I define what I really want.

There have been times when I thought I knew what I wanted and the knock-myself-out path to that end sucked all the joy out of my life. There have also been times when what I thought I didn’t want was exactly the fall-in-my-lap, joyful path to what I really do want most of all. In either case, there has always been an abundance of “inspiration” to encourage compliance with what others want, but not always what I want. So now the question is: If nobody can tell me, how do I know what I really want?

I used to rely on my parents, friends, spouse or church to define, or at least heavily influence that for me. But now I am thinking ‘DON’T tell me what I want!’ I have learned that defining my true self is far too important and personal to trust to someone else. If I don’t make defining what I want a personal quest with God, I am vulnerable to a lifetime of distraction, error and chaos. So how do I have a personal quest with God?

Some people believe that the answer is in the Bible or other religious texts, but I do not feel peace that any one book is a direct fax from God or unlocks the door to my true potential. Besides, there are too many interpretations, translations and different opinions supporting what someone else wants for it to be personal. Others think that it can only be found through trial and error, but I have wasted too much time in error and that hasn’t brought much peace either.

I feel that my God gave me purpose, inspiration and intuition. With those gifts, I believe He expects me to seek out my own purpose then think through the various “inspirations” and use my intuition before taking action. So now I have come to a place where I can be open to and respect what others want, get support from those that want the same, and make all my dreams come true. Perfect!

I am beginning to realize that knowing what I really want isn’t a destination, it is a life-long journey that is made beautiful by the friends and adventures in my life. To help guide me through that journey, I have taken the initiative to define what I know of my purpose and outline a few wants that I feel are in line with my true potential. It's a work in progress, but it gives me confidence that I can take any "inspiration", study it out with all the resources I can get my little hands on, measure it against something meaningful to me, and trust my instincts to keep me moving in a more joyful, fulfilling and spectacular direction.

May you too find your way to what you really want, find meaning in it and enjoy the adventure.

Good, Healthy Sex

As I was posting my Gratitude Sunday experience, I heard my neighbors having sex. Not just a quickie, but the "haven't-seen-you-in-a-month" or "make-up" sex that rocks the universe. I would have mentioned something about it in yesterday's post, but didn’t want to label it Gratitude Sunday and Potty Talk… something about that just seems a little too naughty… Well, unless it is me having the great sex, then I guess I could be grateful for that. But I digress.

It was strange because I knew exactly what was happening, I just couldn’t identify exactly where it was coming from. Was it downstairs, or right next door? I couldn’t help myself but to solve the mystery. I never really considered myself a nosy neighbor, and certainly not a porn fiend, so I guess it shouldn’t really matter; I just had to know. In case your curiosity is nagging at you too, it was our next-door neighbors who happen to be an attractive couple about our age… maybe a little older, but with no kids.

Once I identified who was getting lucky, I actually said to myself out loud “Good for them!”

It makes me happy to know that two people who have been together for over 12 years can still passionately love each other and find such enjoyment and intimacy. Besides that, it IS good for them physiaclly. Dr. Oz says that healthy people have sex 200 times a year. That is 4 times / week! Wouldn’t THAT be nice?

Hum, great sex about every other day with no stress or exhaustion limitations, no time constraints or interruptions? Sounds like a great health plan to me! I just hope that when Ben and I get to our 12-year mark we can still experience that kind of rock-the-universe sex in our marriage. Hum, I think it is a goal worth shooting for. What do you think?

Childhood Scars, Addiction & Self Discovery

Dr. Laura Smith (a psychiatrist that Oprah frequently features) had once mentioned something about childhood wounds. She says that nobody escapes childhood without some kind of battle scars and I never really thought too much about it. I had always considered my childhood pretty uneventful. I guess I had a few issues with my hot temper and some mean grade-school kids, maybe a situation or two in high-school with a friend or boyfriend, but I really can’t say that it was all that rough… always dramatic, but not really all that painful. I always had my mom there to help coach me through it and I knew that my home was a stable and safe place for me to recover.

I always considered myself pretty successful and happy through at least junior high and high school. In fact, I considered myself part of, or at least accepted by the popular crowd. I even ran into some old school mates when I was visiting at home last time and they told me that I was the girl that every girl wanted to be, and every guy wanted to be with… (What?!? Why didn’t I ever catch onto that?)

Anyway, I digress. The point is that it wasn’t until just this week, in Barrow of all places, that I realized that I do have childhood wounds! I was having a conversation with one of my newest real-life friends at the gym and discovered that we are both feeling like we don’t measure up, that somehow we aren’t good enough. It was something about the way that she said it that made me snap back to all the great successes that I have had in my life and the feeling of insignificance… the feeling that my hard work and sacrifice were never good enough.

Good enough for whom? Who was I trying so hard to impress? Why did I so desperately need that validation? Then I remembered a letter I once wrote my dad using those exact words in relation to not feeling good enough or not measuring up to his expectations. I remember feeling really rejected and frustrated that I wasn’t enough to make him proud. I must have been about 17 when I wrote that… Whoda thunk that a 10-year-old memory would sneak up and kick me in the ass?

I can’t really pin-point one experience, but a long history of constantly feeling that my best was never good enough for him. My graduation from high school was met with “good, now you can move out of the house.” He even handed me $1500 and said “make sure that lasts till you get a job ‘cause that’s all you’re getting.” Even my graduation from Dad’s Alma mater was undermined by the impression that my major wasn’t hard enough, or profitable enough or respectable enough on some level. My most recent was last August when I had lost 100 lbs. and his response was "Great! How many more do you still have to lose?" Wow! That really hurts. I didn’t realize how painful all that was until just writing it out now.

There was a time when I stopped caring. But those were the roughest years of my life. I looked for approval elsewhere… and got it… but you and I both know how empty addictions are. Boys gave me all the approval I could ever need until they got what they wanted. Alcohol only clouded my judgment, and "everything looks fine with beer goggles on." I even tried some mysterious brownies once, but all that did was really convince me that drugs are NOT, nor ever will be my thing… but that story is for another post.

The crazy thing is that it wasn’t until I weeded out those “addictions” and became the equivalent of a Catholic NUN that I felt that I truly had my dad’s respect. I felt like he respected the fact that I had the guts to completely change my life and dedicate it to helping others. I thought that this was a turning point and that he was going to start approving of my life choices from there out. But mission life isn’t real, and it doesn’t last forever… Thank You God! So then I got married. Dad was having some issues with the church he raised me in, and the fact that he wasn’t sure about the whole temple gig probably played into the stress of the event. Then there was the bit about him not liking Hubby AT ALL. At any rate, he made it perfectly clear that he didn’t approve… and that story too is for another post.

So, I have been thinking about the long-term effects of these life-long feelings and discovered that there may be something in them holding me back from reaching my potential. I am not going to sit here and write about how my daddy didn’t love me… because I know that he did. I know that even today, he would lay down his life for me without even thinking twice. The truth is that it all comes back to the spirit of the intention vs. the result of the mistake… or series of mistakes. I know that often times, his intention was to protect me and teach me and love me, he intended to be encouraging and loving and inspiring in so many ways. I actually told him once in a good heart-to-heart “Dad, your intentions are good, but your delivery sucks! You might wanna work on that.”

At any rate, I thought that I had chalked most of it up to his issues and gotten over it, but now every time I don’t feel like I am good enough, I am driven to the cupboards… I call it addiction transfer: From indiscriminate boinking to indiscriminate eating. (Well, not all that indiscriminate on either, I have my standards. I prefer fun and tasty… men and food. It is actually pretty ironic how my favorite addictions have had and now have the least substance.

So, why do I write all of this deep craziness? I am trying to get to the bottom of why I am addicted to junk food, and what I can do about it. I have the feeling that no matter how many diets I go on, or how many pounds I successfully lose, they will always come back with interest because the root of the problem is not being addressed. I can treat the symptoms of flabby abs and chunky butt, but they will keep coming back until I have the courage to deal with the source.

I recognize that as much as I love my dad, he isn’t the most important influence in my life. I rarely speak to him, and never really feel rejected by him anymore. I cherish the time we get to spend together and am really looking forward to our trip next month. So what is rejecting me now… ME!? I would much prefer to think that it is triggered by something outside myself, something that I can easily identify and eliminate.

Is it the media? I already have enough evidence to say that THEY don’t know anything and aren’t worth basing my worth on. Is it genetic OCD, once repressed but now catching up to me? I can get counseling and meds for that. Was it a lifetime of being Mormon? Well, I decided that this was part of it and eliminated it, but it didn’t entirely fix the problem, it just helped me see and admit that there was a problem.

What is it? How do I beat this monster? How do I overcome an enemy I don’t even know and can’t see? Oh, I wish there were an easy button. Maybe I just need to face the fact that though I am not mad at my dad, and don’t blame him for my troubles, I still want him to know how it made me feel. Maybe I just need validation that he thinks I am okay now. But why would I be basing my worth on his opinion? It’s important to me because I love and respect him… but is it really where I base my worth? NO. Plus, I wonder what good it would do to hurt him like that. He too suffers from OCD and I think it would really eat at him to have his mistakes from 10+ years ago regurgitated and thrown back in his face. I really don’t feel like this is going to get me the results that I am after.

I could blame it on my hubby. Maybe it has something to do with losing myself since we got married, or not getting enough support. Maybe we don’t have sex enough. Hey, maybe I should try to transfer the addiction back to sex!?! That sounds fun… But what if it is too much pressure on Hubby and he doesn’t want to perform, or the performance isn’t passionate enough of validating enough to fill the void and one or both of us start looking elsewhere? THAT would really suck. Plus, I am trying to get to the root of the addiction, not transfer it back to another destructive behavior.

I know that I am not the only person in the world that feels this way. In fact, I know that a lot of women, especially mothers, have similar feelings and addictions. I don’t want to focus on the problem, but the SOLUTION. I want to know how other mothers fight it. I would love any advice anyone can offer. Post a comment, post a post on your blog and direct me there, send me a private e-mail, anything could help. Even just knowing that I’m not alone is comforting.

When I feel this desperate, I talk to my mom. She said that she put all of her worth into her children and THAT didn’t work… I don’t know what she was trying to say… either that she thinks her kids aren’t that spectacular or successful and therefore don’t give her enough worth as a mother, or that placing the control outside herself put her in a state of helplessness and worry. I tend to think the latter is truer than the former because she fights her own vicious battle of food addiction.

HEY! THAT’S IT! I have to base my worth on what I control. Looks like the monster IS inside me… it is some sick way of thinking that has chained me to my addiction and I think I may be on to how to fight it. I have to retrain myself to base my worth on something that is meaningful and substantial and IN MY CONTROL; I have to retrain myself to get my validation from the Universe, or God or… or Myself!

Crap! Now I am starting to sound like that Smiley guy from Saturday Night Live who always says "I’m good enough; I’m smart enough, and dog on it, people like me."

Anyway, now that I have identified the “stink” I can work on getting it out! I know what is meaningful to me, but what do I control? THAT, my friend, is another post. I will probably be starting a new label called “beating addiction” for this and other related posts. Stay tuned for more ramblings self discovery and the saga ov beating my addiciton.

A Fun Meme and The Secret

Have you ever hit the “next blog” button on the blogspot toolbar? I did and it brought me here. Amazing what I found about the law of attraction! Where does the "next blog" take you?

I have actually been thinking about the topic of my "next blog" a lot lately and trying to apply it to my goals. It's funny, but I think the law of attraction actually brougth me there. Anyway, here are a few good questions bolded and itallicsed I kyped from Million Dollar Project and attempted to answer. It actually inspired me to think through another Top Ten list of what I want. Unfortunately, it also left me with a few big questions of my own.

Do you know what you want – your desires?

1. I want to be healthy and strong enough to run 16.1 miles of the Hard Rock by July 13^th 2007.

2. I want to renew my wedding vows with my hubby on our 5-year anniversary in August 2007 somewhere beautiful.

3. I want to live below the Arctic latitude by January 2008.

4. I want to own my own investment property/home by January 2009.

5. I want to run a successful Adventure Lodge and start sharing my passion for Nature, Life and Adventure on a commercial scale by December 2020.

6. I want to teach my daughter healthy and happy life skills by December 30, 2023.

7. I want to have the financial freedom to travel to amazing wild places every year or so.

8. I want to be an inspiration and teach and be taught by everyone I meet.

9. I want to help others find peace and joy in their life path.

10. I want to leave a legacy of love, leadership, integrity and many shared adventures.

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Do you know how to ask for what you want?

I think I do but I can’t be sure. I spend a descent amount of meditation time imagining how I will feel and what I would be doing on a daily basis when these dreams come true. I also speak to others as though those things are in my forecast. I also pray for guidance in setting my goals and strength to live the life that would get me there. But I wonder if I am jinxing it by putting time limits on the universe or putting too vague or too specific a desire out there. Am I close?

Are you able and willing to allow it to manifest in your life?

I think so, but sometimes I think I am self defeating when I am OFF and make posts like this. But when I am ON, I feel like some of these things are already mine… or at least that I am on the right path to making them happen. How can I make myself MORE able to allow it to manifest in my life?

You will learn the answers to these questions by taking inspired action.
You learn what you want and don’t want by acting in the world, by doing things. If you have never tried painting a picture, how do you know if you are passionate about it or not?
You learn how to ask for what you want by acting in the world. You learn how to allow it to manifest in your life by taking inspired action.

Okay, time for a deep question. How do you know it is inspiration and not just butterflies or excitement to do something impulsive or stupid? I think we have all misinterpreted inspiration and found ourselves in a bit of trouble… A certain spring break trip to Seaside and more than a few boyfriend disasters comes to my mind. Yah, those didn’t end so well, but things could have ended a LOT worse. But I digress. This is something that I have given quite a bit of thought to.

How do you know what God/ the universe wants for you? How do you know when you are on track with the plan? I think there are some actions that aren’t inspired and really set us back, so how do we avoid these and still live life to the fullest?

All I got for answers to these questions is that I have to trust my personal relationship with God/ the universe and that Christ/ grace and love will compensate for the impulsive and stupid things I mistake for inspiration. I also have to think that God will at least be understanding of my uncertainty in his methods of communication. Inspiration isn't always clear and the Bible just doesn’t help much with helping me define my personal life path toward leaving my mark and achieving my dreams.

The infinitely powerful universe wants to help us create what we desire. The universe has you on this earth right now so that you can create your desires.
We are not here to be miserable and live a life of struggle. The universe will help you create your desires. When we flow with this energy we become co-creators of our lives with the universe. The universal energy flow is working with you to create what you want. The universe does not fail. Inspired action takes your magical thinking and dreams and manifests it. It aligns your thoughts, feelings and actions.

If you stop struggling and relax and start flowing with the universal flow of energy, imagine the peace you would feel without having to struggle everyday in your life.

I partly agree with this. As I consider myself somewhat spiritual, I consider the universe to be a personal and loving God. I think that there is more to this life than our own desires. We have to align our desires with the desires that God has for us. That is a very personal and intentional quest. I know that we are not here to be miserable, but sometimes the valleys of our lives are where we learn the most powerful lessons, come closest to the truth of who we really are and what we can become and gain the sustenance and shelter that just aren't up there on the mountain top. I am a bit of a believer in “no pain, no gain,” but know that this life is meant to be enjoyed to the fullest. I also believe that I am a co-creator in my life. I am NOT a victim or a pawn, I am an active participant with real intentions and can create what I want with God’s help. It is all about that inspired action thing. And what is with the magical thinking? Is that like big dreams and pixie dust? Now it is just up to me to align my thoughts feelings and actions with what God really wants for me… yah, not so simple.

I completely agree with the stop struggling idea. I think it is like the sweet spot on driving a clutch; you have to struggle a little bit to find where it is, and that road is pretty rough, but once you find it, life is sweet and flows much more smoothly. Sometimes I think I am fighting too hard for something that really isn’t me. But growing up in sports, I’ve been taught that quitting the fight is loosing the battle. I guess it all comes back to picking my battles and aligning my life with God’s desire for me. I still haven’t found the sweet spot, but I feel a lot better about the road since I left Mormonism and showed up for my personal driving course with the manufacturer… God. Now if I can just learn His language...

A Bit of Drama & Vacation Mystery

Sunday night we decide that we need to get out of town. We had been feeling a little cabin fever and needed a chance to reconnect with each other and with normal civilization… that, and we had a serious opportunity to get a $2000 trip to Anchorage for about $200.

Hubby usually gets 3-4 day weekends as he works 12-hour shifts, but it had been 3 weeks since we had one, and we had gone much longer without REALLY seeing each other. As this was the first 4-day weekend in forever, we booked the tickets Sunday night for the following evening flight out of Barrow. I packed our bags and straightened the house, canceled the play date and workout plans I had set up to break the monotony of agonizing over keeping myself and baby from insanity and waited… and waited… and waited.

Hubby was supposed to leave work at 6:30 pm, and the flight was scheduled to leave at 7:12. Yah, didn’t think that was going to work out from the beginning, but Hubby assured me, it had in the past because Barrow is “special.” Anyway, he said he had made arrangements to come home and help me get the bags to the airport and that I should wait for him vs. meet him there… I thought it was pushing it close as it was, and I REALLY wanted to get out of town, but I kept giving him the benefit of the doubt. 6:30 rolls around, then 6:40 and Still no Hubby. At 6:50, I get a call from Hubby saying he is on his way and I should call a cab.

A CAB!?! What the Hell!?! Was he freaking out of his mind!? I couldn’t believe that this was his arrangement. Anyway, the cab shows up to our house at 7 and I am certain that the plane is buttoned up and taxiing down the runway. Of course the cab driver knows where we are going, that there is only ONE flight out of here and that it leaves in 12 minutes and takes his sweet time getting there! Again… What the Hell!? Anyway, at 7:06 the Alaska Airlines personnel meets us at the front door of the airport and says “you must be the family we couldn’t wait on any longer. You’ll have to wait till tomorrow.”

I was pissed! I really wasn’t all that surprised, but kept biting my tongue and gritting my teeth as Hubby kept making all of these crazy ass statements about how accommodating they are here. Again… What the Hell!? I have been here since November and NEVER had anything outside our small group of friends come anywhere near accommodating. Maybe close to coherent, or even civil, but NEVER accommodating.

All I really wanted was to spend some quality time with Hubby, let him get some quality time with Baby and recharge my psychological battery. What I got was “You’ll have to wait till tomorrow.” I’ve been waiting till tomorrow, till next week, till next weekend for over a month! The last thing I wanted to do was wait. Then Hubby get’s this brilliant idea that he will take this opportunity to catch up on all of his paperwork at the station. What the Hell!?! Couldn’t he see that I was a mama on the edge? Couldn’t he see that I was desperate for a little attention and, God forbid, a break?

Apparently not! He dropped me off at home with 3 boxes of groceries he picked up while waiting at the air cargo, a whiny baby and the ½ of our luggage that didn’t get loaded on the flight I so frantically wanted to be on. Of course he kept the laptop (my only link to the real world) and away he went. I understand that he was late because of a serious call he had to take right before 6pm. I understand that paperwork on such calls has to be processed quickly so that it can go to the District Attorney and through the court systems. I understand that things don’t always work out… especially at the last second, and I definitely understand why he would want to get all his case paperwork done before leaving town. What I don’t understand is why I was so angry.

I think it was a bad combination of PMS, cabin fever, pent up frustration toward Hubby and exhaustion from being a stay-at-home mom who actually has to stay at home. At any rate, I tried my best to hold it together… AND FAILED. Hubby must have thought the place had been bombed when he got home. The T.V. was flickering some muted nonsense with subtitles, the luggage had been opened and its contents scattered, all the grocery packaging materials had been pulled out of their boxes and flung across the front room, the remote control was shattered in 6 different pieces on the floor against the wall and I was in a puddle of tears next to a sweaty baby in our bed. He may not have seen signs of needs unattended before, but he was NOT going to miss this one. I haven’t had a fit like that in a long time, and can only thank God that Kaia was in the other room or asleep for most of it. No doubt she had been feeling the tension though, and for that I am still beating myself up.

I was just so furious and frustrated and had been for some time. When Hubby rolled in at midnight, I just pretended to be asleep like nothing had happened. The next morning I looked like hell and couldn’t find the words to start a conversation without making things worse. I noticed that he had done some cleaning and taped the remote back together. We worked around each other trying to get our stuff together to leave. Finally he broke the silence when he delicately asked me what had happened. All I could say was “sorry about the remote.”

It took us 2 days into the trip to start a conversation about what was at the root of the problem, but I still don’t think I was really understood. Maybe I need to write it out to understand it myself… I don’t know. But this is not the end of the saga.

On the bright side, the trip was good for us, and I was able to take a mini vacation from my frustrations and the demands of being a cop’s wife and full-time mommy. At least now I think that we are in a better state of mind for discussing things, and I have learned a valuable lesson: I am NOT going to continue putting issues off until Hubby gets a weekend, because sometimes weekends are delayed and when needs back up, things don’t end well for the remote.

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Now about that mini-vacation. We ate good food, visited great friends, climbed a gorgeous mountain with a fantastic view and enjoyed amazing vacation nookie. Why is it always better in a strange place? And how can a baby sleep through somethin’ rowdy in the next room of a vacation rental, but not in the next room at home? Ah, the mysteries of vacation

Gratitude Sunday: MoJo

Today I am grateful for my MoJo, the magical motivation and guts to stick to my nutrition and work out programs. The truth is that lately it has all but dissappeared. I am only 3 weeks into an 8-week project, and I’m already sneaking goodies. Any little carb is my temptation, and I just can’t find it in me to get my butt out there on those stairs for my workout.

What I can’t figure out is why the mystical powers of motivation can be there so strong one day, and be MIA the very next. Why is it that acquiring healthy habits is so much harder than acquiring unhealthy ones?

At any rate, today I am feeling grateful for the MoJo all together. Whether I have it or not, I know that it is out there and it is what makes dreams come true. I am confident that I will get it back, but if any of you know how I can get it back in time to train enough for the Hard Rock, let me know.

It Always Depends on the Weather

Here in the Arctic, everything depends on the weather. The funny thing is that it is ALWAYS cold and windy. It is a complete mystery to me how the locals distinguish between cold, really cold and too cold. Maybe everyone has their own thermostat and it is different for everyone; but, like I said, it is a mystery to me.

Hubby just bought 2 used snowmobiles from a guy in town so that we could go have some form of outdoor recreation to do as a family. The first time out, we thought that it would be good to leave Kaia with a sitter and have a Play Date in the powder. Well, turns out that the powder is patchy and the rest is just crusty ice. Anyway, yesterday, we figured we would go run some errands around town and take Kaia with us.

We bundled her up in fleece, hat, boots, wool socks, snowsuit and stuck her in between us on the snowmobile. Her snowsuit sleeves are long enough to cover up her hands and we figured we would make sure no baby parts would be exposed, so we decided NOT to bind her up in gloves that would probably fall off between anywhere and nowhere.

The temperature was reading 5 with wind chill of -15, but I know it was colder than that when we cruised head-on into the blowing wind. Kaia seemed to be okay, and we checked her every stop to make sure that fingers, cheeks and body temp were still within acceptable range. Apparently, my hands were too cold to tell how cold her hands were. When we got home, she started screaming and holding her fingers out like they had just given her the worst offence she had ever received.

I can only imagine what it is like to experience the thaw process for the first time. The aching and stinging and needle like tingling that happens when feeling finally returns to frozen fingers is miserable even for adults who know what is going on. The good news is that there was no permanent damage done. I was pretty scared for about 5 minutes though, and kept checking for the rest of the day to make sure that her fingers still had good color, feeling and mobility.

It was one of those “Mommy of the Year” moments when I realized how dumb it was to bring baby out in such harsh conditions. Comparatively, we thought it was quite nice. It was no where near the -50 we experienced this winter and the wind was calm enough not to pummel us with ice shards. I guess that they don’t make good baby gear for extreme weather conditions and we didn’t have enough layers on to accommodate that fact. Anyway, I learned my lesson and will be a LOT more careful in the future.

What else can I do? It is not good for us to stay in the house all day. We have to get out sometime, and the temperatures are better now than we have ever experienced here. Though the learning experience was tramatic, we are not detered. Kaia and I have plans to go out with a few friends this afternoon for some sledding. There is a gravel pit not too far from here, where there might be some good snow piles for little plastic sleds. I don’t know how long they all plan to be out, but I do know that there will be a warm vehicle there for Kaia to escape the cold. We will NOT be repeating the trauma of yesterday.

I know now that my thermostat for what is “too cold” is not set nearly as high as my little Kaia’s. I just figured that we had her bundled enough to accommodate the difference. Even though the poor thing couldn’t put her arms down with all the bundle of snowsuit she had on, it wasn’t enough. I wish that she came with an owners manual that stated the temperature range for safe and happy operation. Or, at the very least, I wish she could talk and let me know when she was getting uncomfortable.

I’ll post up pix of the planned snow adventures for today, and let you know how the bundeling thing goes tomorrow. For now I will sit here and contemplate mysteries of which clothing items to ‘don first, how best to check for frozen baby syndrome and why the hell the wind always comes from the direction I want to go. Make it a good one and enjoy the beautiful weather wherever you are.

Sometimes It Just Doesn't Work Out

Have you ever tried to plan an adventure that depended on factors outside yourself and had it fail miserably? Despite all my experience and efforts to avoid pitfalls, sometimes, it just doesn't work out.

This Saturday is my hubby's birthday and for the past year, he has sacrificed all of his toys and hobbies to get into his career path and support our little family. So, I wanted to show him how much I appreciated him on his special day and really surprise him with something that he would enjoy. We don't have much in the way of recreation here, but I thought it would be great to work with what we had and create something wonderful.

Have you ever heard the term "you can't get chicken salad out of chicken sh**."? Well, that was the adventure planning lesson that I hadn't yet learned. I had always managed to pull off miracles in the past and didn't expect anything different on this project. For the last month, I have been sneeky and persistent to surprise my husband with an Arctic birthday adventure. I spoke with all his fellow officers, friends at 3 differnent churches, neighbors, acquaintences through any remote contact and people I would just meet at the grocery store, gym or post office. I even posted a WANT ad on the local bulliten offering $75 bucks and a full tank of gas for anyone willing to rent us a snow mobile. (at $4/gallon, a full tank is a precious commodity.)

I finally got 2 calls early in the week and confirmed with both for today, Thursday the 22nd from 2-6 pm. (as hubby will be working graveyard on his birthday and needed to sleep the day before, not wanting to wreck his sleeping schedule etc... I thought I had thought of everything!) Everything was comming together beautifully... until I woke up.

I awoke on the big day with excitement and anticipation for the beautiful adventure I had planned. The sun was shining, the snow was glistening, the baby was in a happy disposition and everything appeard promising... Until I looked up the temperature... -60! Yes folks NEGATIVE 60 as in 60 degrees below 0. NOT ideal, but we had the gear, and I wasn't going to let this ruin the day.

Around 1pm I called to solidify details to pick up snow mobile option number one... the guy on the end of the line simply said "Nope. Too cold for machine. Call back another day." and hung up the phone. I thought this strange as there were at least 8 snow mobiles out on the icepack (frozen ocean) and aren't are designed for cruising around in the cold?

No problem, I had a back up. At 1:30 I called option number two who seemed very excited and promptly went outside to start up her machine. At 2:30 we received a call that it wasn't going to start for anything! Evidently, the little gas in its tank had frozen and it was going NOWHERE.

Okay, okay, we still had a sitter lined up, we could catch a taxi and rent some cross country skis to salvage the day... I called the sitter and ... no answer. WHAT!?! (Turns out her baby was sick and she had to go to an emergency clinic to make sure everything was okay... the baby was okay, but the day was not.)

Anyway, by 4:00 it would seem that NOTHING was going to work out. Backup plans one, two and three all fell through. So, we went for the ol' stand by... birthday dinner. We rearanged for a sitter at the last minute, and it looked as though things may just work out for 7:30pm. By 8:00pm the sitter fell through. So we thought "lets just take the baby." By the time we established plan #5, the baby was no longer in a good disposition and it was appearant that things were NOT working out.

I had no creative energy left to come up with another "back-up plan" or even be upset. Long story short, despite all my efforts to make his birthday something special, Hubby called in his own birthday order for take-out from a "so-so" resteraunt, ate to the seranade of a squawking baby in the back room and went to bed early. NICE!

It really wouldn't have been all that bad if I hadn't climbed up all over his case about providing the exact same birthday experience for me last month. Maybe Hubby had run into the same difficulties and dilemas in planning my great birthday adventure. (Funny how the ol' irony monster keeps biting me in the a$$.)

On the bright side, I learned that sometimes, it just doesn't work out... and that's okay. When it isn't meant to be, there is nothing you can do to change it. The mystery lies in why that always seem to happen on birthdays. I would love to hear any other birthday disasters or theories as to why they are inevitable. :) May your next adventure be destined to work out.