A Cheesy Moment

So...I was at work tonight...doing busywork, getting yelled at...you know, the usual. And then my mom called. This is not an infrequent thing, she calls every couple of weeks to remind me about family dinner or ask about something or other...and this phone call started out no different. She wanted to be sure she told me what time we're having Easter dinner this Sunday and to see how Jacob did when he was in Vegas working on his pilot stuff last week.

But then (after I'd reassured her I hadn't forgotten about dinner and reported that Jacob did just fine in Vegas), she said, "This may sound stupid, but I've been thinking about it a lot and I wanted to tell you that I know the reason you're having a hard time getting pregnant is not because you did anything wrong."

Whoa. Didn't see that one coming.

I didn't quite know how to respond...so I waited for her to continue. She told me that she knows that the reason I haven't been able to get pregnant is not because I'm being punished for the choices I've made in my life. She said I'm a good person and she loves me and she hopes I don't think this is my fault. Totally floored (and somewhat emotionally stunted by the fact that I was at work and would rather gouge my eyes out with a spoon than let my co-workers see me cry), I thanked her, said that means a lot to me and that I love her too...and then told her I'll see her Sunday and we hung up.

I'm not writing about this because I'm astounded that my mom would say that to me...I'm actually not. While everyone else in my family doesn't usually say those types of things to each other, my mom is the exception and has no problem saying how she feels no matter how sappy it may be. It's just that...with this situation in particular...well, let me put it this way: I will NEVER forget the day my mom and I discussed my decision to leave the church. My mom is one of the most faithful women you will ever meet, and I know I hurt her badly when I told her. She cried. There are few things in this world that are more horrible than making your mom cry. So because this subject is so very sensitive to her (and because if I ever make her cry again I will probably shoot myself), I haven't told her the things people have said to me. I never told her about how people in my ward and some of my friends told me if I'm good the Lord will bless me w/a child. Didn't tell her how a few of them told me I'm obviously not trying hard enough to be righteous. I most definitely left out the part where one person in particular let me know in no uncertain terms that God was refusing to send his spirit children to me because he doesn't want them raised in an unrighteous home. I didn't tell her how when I lost my baby two years ago I REALLY struggled w/the idea that God had taken away that child from me because I wasn't righteous enough to be a mother...and how sometimes to this day it's still a nagging thought in the back of my head.

So...not knowing any of those things...that's what she said to me. Do I think she was "inspired" to say that? No, not particularly. But what I do think is that sometimes, life hands you these cheesy moments (courtesy of your mom, or your friend, or whoever...) and if you let them, they'll help get you through the bad stuff. :-)

Strawberries

Dear man w/the very large and VERY hairy buttcrack on display right in front of me in the grocery store checkout line,

Please, please, please...stand up straight. That's all it would take to cover that monstrosity. Please, I beg you...I'm running out of other things to look at, I'm having a hard time pretending I don't notice (because I can see everyone else around me noticing), and your wife is taking forever trying to use the stupid card swipe thing. Seriously, all I needed to buy was these strawberries, this should have been a 2 minute trip and now it's been 5 minutes and your buttcrack is still right in my face.

Love...but not really,
Julie

(And then, after he stood up...)

PRAISE THE LORD THANK YOU!

(Sorry kids, no picture to display on this one!)

Enchilada

Remember a few posts ago when I "wrote a letter to my co-worker" about him being super loud and annoying? Yes...well...he is no longer employed here (SCORE!), much to my ears' delight. But that's not why I'm writing (and before you go thinking I'm a horrible person for being happy about someone losing their job, I'd like to clarify that he's still selling security systems for the company, he's just not working in the corproate office any more...so he's not out on the street with no money).

ANYHOO, moving on to the point...on my lunch break tonight as I was eating my Lean Cuisine enchilada, I found myself talking to it (not out loud, mind you...) and suddenly realized that I have a weird quirk where I tend to compose letters in my head. Seriously, I do it all the time. These "letters" range from observations I make about the people around me to the inanimate objects I tend to talk to (come on, I bet if you think about it you'll realize you talk to things way more than you'd care to admit...). So in an effort to post on a more regular basis and because I think it's funny, I'm going to start sharing these brain letters in between my other rants about politics (yay health care reform!), my moral high horse (let Constance take her girlfriend to prom!), pictures of my cats, infertility updates (nothing yet), etc. And what could be more appropriate than starting out with the letter I wrote to my dinner?
Ahem....


Dear Lean Cuisine Enchilada,
You came out of the microwave smelling a lot like plastic, you burned the inside of my mouth (ok, that one was probably my fault), I am very suspicious about the contents of this torilla as I have never had an enchilada that tasted even remotely close to how this one tastes, and I have a feeling my tummy is going to hurt later. However, I would like to say kudos on the sauce, and I guess that for a supposedly healthy frozen dinner, you taste ok.
Love,
Julie
Yeah, I suppose I'm a little nuts...but it keeps me entertained (and hopefully it will entertain some of you as well).

This is one reason why I'm so passionate about this subject...