religiousity pt. 2

Ok, where was I?

Ah, yes. So, this whole time I had been struggling with the a fore mentioned things there was something else that I struggled with, but mostly subconsciously. In conversation and in my head, being raped by my youth pastor made me stronger as a person and as a Christian. That was half true. It did make me stronger as a person. It forced me to figure out who I was by throwing me into situations I never would have encountered in my sheltered life. I didn't automatically trust anyone, and I didn't trust anyone who automatically trusted just anyone. . . I suppose it made me jaded and cynical, but that look works on me, ok? The fact that I never took anyone at face value anymore made me question pastors, teachers, and ultimately Christianity. I honestly believed that my rapist had a connection with Jesus, yet he did awful things. This led me to believe that Christians are more likely than anyone to be screwed up because they want all their other Christian friends to think that they're good Christians and holy and all that shiznit. So, by that logic, most if not all Christians harbored some secret life that they needed to hide to keep up their current life, but most non-Christians didn't give a shit what people thought about them and "sins" weren't sins to them, so they were free to show their real self to people. I realize this is some major all or none thinking, but I still believe it's true, just to a lesser scale.

To clarify, I know lots of religious people that I respect. Some are Mormons, others are Christians and a few are Catholic. The thing that sets these people apart from most religious people I have met is that they're real and outsiders in their own religion. They're the first to admit their lives are not perfect, they indulge in things like cigarettes or alcohol or craaaazy unorthodox thinking. They're normal people. They're not Christian or Mormon with a shot of regular human, they're humans that believe in something bigger than themselves.

That was the big deal breaker for me. And who can blame me? You get fucked over by someone you trust, you hate everything they believed in (pun intended). That's the way it goes. If anyone looks down on me for not being a Christian anymore, I seriously think I have the best "excuse" ever.

So, I knew I didn't want what I had but I didn't know what I did want. That all changed when I started going to college. I saw so many happy, well adjusted people that were different religions or no religion at all. They weren't mentally whipping themselves for every sin they committed like a bulimic for every calorie she consumed. They were happy being themselves, warts and sins and all, and for once, I wanted to just be happy. Not asking for forgiveness for things that were natural and made me happy.

I was still going to church for the semester before I moved to Jacksonville and I felt myself getting even more disenchanted with that whole system. It seemed more and more to be a business that had deviated from the only good things it had in the first place. Jesus was a pretty cool guy according to all accounts in the Bible. Church for the early Christians was getting together at a friend's house, doing some hippie style singing, reading a bit from a few books they all enjoyed, eating and sitting around on throw pillows. Most modern day churches are totally different. They're awkward and forced. You walk into a giant room where you face one man and listen to him give his interpretation of part of a book that doesn't make much sense. There is no discussion. You can't ask him to clarify. You can't holla back at the man.

When I moved away I had a chance to do my own thing without the scrutiny of my parents, which opened me up to a lot of new experiences. I had a chance to go to a party and get shitfaced, and realize the next morning that that was not something I enjoyed. I tried sex, and decided I liked it. I wondered why something completely natural is bad. Why would god put a sex drive in his creation before they supposed to have sex other than to tempt them? What was marriage other than just a piece of paper and a promise?

So that's about it, I think. There's been other little things, but mostly this stuff. Since all this happened I've come up with my own hybrid form of religion that makes me happy. It offers me a sense of comfort and if I don't go to heaven or whatever, at least I didn't spend the 70 or so years I had here on earth miserable and always apologizing for doing things that make me happy. Now, I focus on nature, and take from Wiccan tradition, Native American spiritualism, Buddhism, and a few religions and philosophies. I'm happy. I'm not ashamed of what I believe or who I am or having sex out of wedlock or any of that stuff. I celebrate nature and all it brings with it.

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religiousity pt. 1

I've been meaning to write this blog for a while, all the while promising a few different people (mainly Curtis) that it'll get done, so here goes!

I was raised Protestant. My dad is an ordained minister, and is constantly reading the Bible, making lesson plans for his Sunday school lessons and otherwise spending every second that he's awake doing Christiany things. He enjoys that stuff. It's his greatest pleasure. My mom was raised Orthodox and converted to Christianity in her twenties. She's currently not going to church, but listens to Christian radio all day, reads the Bible every night and very much still believes in Jesus.

I went to Christian school for 9 out of 12 years of high school, and was (for the most part) a dedicated Christian until senior year of high school. That's when things started clicking in my head. I'm sure that anyone looking at this would say that going to college was what changed me, but the wheels were turning long, long before that.

If you look at my older posts, they are extremely religion-oriented, though they start becoming more liberal towards the end. I was genuinely passionate about Christianity.

So, what happened? A number of different things. I'm going to try to go through each one and explain my thought process. This will be fairly detailed, so I'm making it into parts (not sure how many, part of this is going to be a discovery process for me as well).

Ever since I was about 5 I've wondered what kind of shit we (the Christian community) would be in if we weren't the religion. What if Buddhism was truly the only way to heaven? That's always been in the back of my head, but since no one really knows and I was immersed in Christian culture, it never bothered me that much. I chose Christianity, if it didn't work, oh well, I tried.

What really got me to question Christianity itself was the suicide of someone I knew (though not very well at all). It really bothered me that there were no answers. Where did they go? Heaven? Hell? Most people I asked seemed to think it was more likely that they went to hell rather than heaven, and that really bothered me. Because I struggled with depression and suicide for years and knew the complete nothingness that exists when you contemplate taking your own life I didn't think it was fair that a loving god would (probably, since the Bible never says) send someone in that much pain to a place of even more torment. I think it was also selfish, since I wanted to know that if I did feel the need to take my own life it would be worth it. I wouldn't just end up miserable again as soon as I died.

Anyways, I thought that wasn't right. Next, I realized that the majority of Christians did not approve of homosexuality. One of my friends was gay, and I did not like the thought that this person, who was much nicer than most of the people at my church, would go to hell. Why would he go to hell simply for loving? And how can any sort of love amongst consenting individuals be wrong?

I never really questioned my sexuality, but I did know that if I decided that I was a lesbian (I'm not, guys.) I would want a god that would accept me-- as I am, which was what the Judeo-Christian god claimed to do. And I suppose you could make the argument that he does take you as you are, but then changes you to fit his list of rights and wrongs-- which, can be absurd (I realize these are Old Testament rules, but Christians still follow some of those even if they are not in the New Testament).

The whole "why does god allow evil and suffering" debate never really bothered me. It seemed to me that if there was good in the world, there had to be bad, right? Makes sense.

I know that a lot of my blog followers are religious, and this might offend some of you. That's fine. Also, I'm not really looking to debate and I'm definitely not looking for someone to change my mind. I've done my research and I've taken my journey and I've come up with a decision that works for me.

Part two will probably be up in a few days. Maybe a few weeks. Having an infant is hectic.

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PS: Would any of you be interested in a blog about different aspects of Christianity as seen through the eyes of an ex-Christian, Pagan? I'm thinking of topics such as speaking in tongues, baptism, witnessing, etc. Leave me a comment and let me know.

one month

It's been one month and three days since Willow was born. I think we're slowly getting the hang of it. We're forgetting the diaper bag at home less, and when we do forget it, we remember that we forgot it sooner.

Tomorrow her and I are taking our fist road trip, down to Payson to spend Thanksgiving with my parents, uncle and grandfather. I'm not sure how that will work, since my parents are riding with me most of the way (stopping for feedings will be interesting) but it's an adventure, nonetheless.

Lately, I find myself apologizing a lot more than usual. I'm trying to find a job that will be worth it and will allow one of us to be home with Willow at all times and it's taking a little bit of time to do that. We hoped doing surveys online would be sufficient, but I don't have that much time to do them, with the whole running around changing diapers and having a baby attached to me at all times. I'm still going to keep doing that because, hey, money and free awesome shit, but I'm looking for a part time job that will bring in money for, well, something other than just utilities. . . Food would be nice.

Oh, enough of that. Willow's doing great. She's smiling more, staying awake longer and just overall being adorable. She's usually such a easy-going baby. Once in a while she'll be a fussbutt but usually she just smiles and coos and sleeps and eats.

That's about it.

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things i never considered before having a baby

1. How to get a stroller through a door if you're alone.
2. When on a car ride, is your baby sleeping peacefully back there or is something wrong? (Remedied by one of those mirror things, I suppose, but who has the money for that? It's much better to contort in ways that would make an acrobat jealous and then annoy your child until they start screaming. Phew! Safe. Also, I swear, I'm a good driver!)
3. Sleep when they're sleeping really doesn't work. You still wake up every few minutes to make sure they're breathing.
4. Poops can be cute. And hilarious. And even when they happen at the worst possible time ("Really? I just changed you. Twice. And finally managed to buckle you into this contraption that is supposed to protect you. . . If I can ever figure out if I did it right. Fine. Yes, you're cute. Awwwh. Is that a look of malicious contentment? SO CUTE!")
5. Sleep isn't a necessity. People that sleep more than 2 hours a night are wimps. You try being in labor for 35 hours and not sleeping for more than 8 hours in the span of a week. Yeah, I'm a bad ass.
6. It is possible to not  have time to gulp down a bowl of cereal.
7. It's possible to have so little time to do things for yourself that you will eat room-temprature mush that may have once been cereal.
8. Taking a breastfed newborn to the store is a lot crazier than you would have guessed. What if they get hungry on the way? a) let them cry. b) pull over and breastfeed in the car. What if they poop on the way? a) let them sit in it (Bad parent! Don't do that. . gross.) b) find a gas station. Change diaper. No changing table? You're screwed. There's the a) the floor or b) your lap. What if they get hungry during your shopping trip? A few, select god-send stores have lactation rooms (which is awkward as all hell, but nice to have) but most don't, so you've got to go to the women's restroom and feed said chitlin in there. Babies eating can be noisy. . How awkward is that? Man, the possibilities of awful are endless. Sometimes things can be done to help the situation, like wearing the baby in a wrap, but then there's the issue of taking it out, folding it the right way (or stretching it across the store and rolling around until it's done right in the case of the Moby ((which I actually love, and so does Willow, but man, that thing is LONG!))) and then learning to maneuver your lady-udders in a way that will allow your child to eat but will not flash the crowd of onlookers who has gathered to watch the show.
9. Where do dads take their daughers to be changed/go potty if they're older if there is no family restroom?
10. How long I would stare at my child thinking "I couldn't have possibly made this".
11. How in love you could be with a tiny, wrinkly, peeling human being who eats, burps, vomits, poops and pees on you.
12. How you won't sleep while she is in case she laughs in her sleep again and you miss it.
13. How even 45 minutes away is torture.

Hey, guys, I love my daughter. She's an amazing little girl. Every day I wonder what she'll be like, cry at the fact that I can't protect her from all the crazy in the world, and marvel at the tininess of every little, teensy bit of her. I worry that one day she'll think that her daddy and I are amazing and that she wants to be like us, and then sometime later she'll realize we're weak, screwed up human beings who don't really know what they're doing at all. I'm worried that she'll get her heart broken, by others, sure,  but mostly by me. I worry that I'll make the same mistakes my parents made. . . God, I worry that she'll cry too often or too little or that she'll fall off of something and hurt herself or that she'll be sheltered and pampered too much-- I worry about just about everything, and this little one is only 16 days old.

I'm sure there will be more things that I realize about babies and having them as time goes on, but for now, that's my list.

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craziest week ever!

 That's Willow Rae!

Ms. Willow Rae Moyemont-Scarborough was born on October 19th at 12:41 pm. She weighed 7 pounds, 4 ounces and was 19 inches long. 

Wow. It's been quite the week. We went to the doctor Monday and were induced Tuesday morning at 12 am. Labor lasted 35 hours and had many, many scary, crazy bumps. I'll post the birth story in a bit, but even though it was rough for a while, we got a perfect little angel from it.

We were discharged on the 21st, and have been settling into life as a family. The first two days at home were a crying contest between Willow and I, to see who could cry the loudest and the most. I think she won. She wouldn't sleep anywhere but in my arms and I had had less than 8 hours of sleep in over 5 days. Phew! Exhaustion. On JP's first night off, I was really excited for him to be able to help and to finally see that I wasn't crazy and she was super fussy at night-- but that's the night she slept all night other than to get her diaper changed and to eat. It figures. She's been great since then though, just sleeping, eating, pooping and exploring the world around her for a few hours a day. 

Everyone says she looks just like me. I'll take that. I honestly was kind of nervous as to what she'd look like. Some babies don't look that great their first few weeks of life, and though I'd still love her, I was hoping she'd be cute- and she was! A little cone-headed at fist, sure, but still beautiful, with her daddy's huge eyes, and my, well, everything else (they said it, not me!!). 

Life at home is getting a little quieter, but is still hard to adjust to. While I was pregnant I was scared that being alone all day and night (JP works nights and sleeps days) by myself might not help my chances of getting postpartum depression (I had almost every prerequisite). So far, I've scored pretty high (read: "off the charts") on the depression scale but I honestly think most of it is that I'm exhausted. There really isn't anyone around here that can help (or we'll let help) with Willow, but so far we're kind of managing. My mom might come up for a few days, but I'm honestly wondering if that will make things better or worse.

JP is a great daddy. Seriously. From the moment he saw her he fell in love with her. She also acts like she likes him better, but that may be because she gets to see me all the time and is probably sick of me already. He reads to her, holds her, changes her diaper, takes her for a few hours almost every morning so I can get a couple hours of uninterrupted sleep (which works in theory). He had told me that he wouldn't let her wrap him around her little finger. . . Yeah, that's cute. She's already a daddy's girl.

Other than that, there's been some crazy bad things that have happened this week. Mainly- one of my facebook friends decided to submit my facebook statuses (that JP had been updating) and the very first picture of Willow and I to a website called lamebook.com. Not only did whoever this person was not ask my permission, but the website blurred out my face, but not Willow's. This really, really, really bugged me. So much. My opinion is you can screw all you want with me, I don't really care that much, but if you screw with my kid, I will hurt you. I emailed this website and asked them to take her picture down. It took them about 5 days (and two very angry emails!) to remove it from the feed but if you have the direct link it's still there. In the meantime, it was shared/liked/tweeted over 5,000 times. Needless to say, this whole situation makes me livid, and I threatened to sue them and did/sort of am looking into it. I deleted almost everyone of my friends off of facebook, so if I deleted you and you didn't do it, I'm sorry, but I can't take that risk. No one messes with my baby.

So, anyways. I have the cutest baby ever, we're still getting adjusted to life with only an hour or two to do things between feedings/changes/fussing and someone was a giant douche and almost (not quite) ruined the memory of when I first held my daughter. 

So- that's that. Love your faces.

<3

Oh, and I'm 20 now. 

fourty weeks

I know I said she'd come early. . but man, was I wrong. Today is her due date, and the little munchkin is showing no signs of budging. In fact, I've been having less contractions now than I did before. Our doctor wants to induce me, which I was against at first, but she seems to think Willow's a chunker (last ultrasound she was in the 75th percentile) and she's concerned about the chances of a c-section. We'll see. . . We'll know more on Monday when we see the doctor again. If everything's a go, we'll have a baby next week, if not before! Hopefully Willow will get sick of it in there and decide she wants to go on an adventure to this crazy new place we keep telling her about (". . . there's ice cream! You can't have any for a while, but it's here. And ponies and fireworks and so much that you'll like!").

As for everything else, it's kind of overwhelming. It's hitting me that not only will we have a baby, a real life baby. . . , but that I'm going to be doing the majority of baby things on my own. JP works nights, so he sleeps during the day, and so far it looks like I'll be the one changing poopy diapers all night, and most of the day except for maybe a few hours when I can get some shut eye. I know, I know, sleep when the baby sleeps. . . But when there's housework to do, and dishes that need to be washed or else you won't have anything to cook on for dinner, things get crazy. Thankfully, JP has two solid days/nights off a week, and he'll be able to take a day or two off when I go into labor. So, yeah, after Willow gets here he'll have to go back to work pretty much right away and I'm going to be left alone with a tiny human. We'll make it, it's just the logistics are fuzzy.

What else? Oh, prep and stuff. Everything's ready for her. Her clothes are washed and folded and we've just got to move some comic book boxes out of the nursery. All that's got to be done is our stuff. Finishing all the pickup and getting laundry 100% done (how is that even possible???) and all that stuff. Which is hard to do since technically I'm supposed to be on bed rest. Since 36 weeks. But, there's way too much to do and we can't afford a maid, so I have to do it. Once in a while I'll get a spurt of energy but mostly it's dragging myself off the couch (hey, I'm not just vegging, I'm actually making money on the couch-- more on that later) and making myself contort over the sink so that we can have clean forks and stuff.

As far as couch-working, we now have internet (huzzah!) and I'm doing surveys and in the process of starting a new blog or two that I want to incorporate AdSense into. It's basically something that I enjoy doing and that makes me some money, which is always really nice. So far, I've been invited to a panel about baby bottles that paid pretty damn well for just me ranting about baby bottles that I really knew nothing about. . So, yeah, that's nice.

I'm sure I'll be updating soon. There will be pictures.

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ten weeks

Just ten weeks of this crazy adventure left! Maybe even less if Ms. Willow Rae decides she's had enough of being in my belly. As long as she's not super early, I would be ok with that. Being pregnant is not fun anymore.

No one tells you that you won't be able to tie your shoes, or that you'll get up to take a shower and be so tired when you get out that you have to sit on the bed for a few minutes. Or that the cute, etherial movements turn into wondering who snuck your unborn baby a toothbrush shank or a flamethrower (in the case of heartburn). Once in a while she'll poke at my belly so hard that my t-shirt lifts up where her arm/leg is and when she puts it back down the t-shirt is still up. This little girl is freaking crazy. I love her so much!!!

Speaking of her being crazy, she already knows how to push mommy's buttons. I've been having some slight spotting (if you don't know what that is, don't worry about it) and I'll call the doctor and the doctor will ask if she's been moving normally. . . Well, yes? I suppose. Maybe? And from then on I'll monitor it, and decide she's not moving as much, probably because she's having a sleepy day but still I'd better go get checked out. So, for the hour drive to the hospital she'll be completely quiet, not even moving a foot. Then we'll get there, they'll strap me into the monitors and BAM! That little girl acts like all I eat and drink are espresso's and king sized Snicker's bars. . . It may just be coincidence, but I say she was listening and waiting. Crazy girl.

As far as when she'll get here, I honestly think she'll be early. Not super early, but a few weeks. She's already been knocking on my cervix asking if she could pretty please be let out, so maybe one of these days she'll figure out how it works. We'll see. Even if she were to be born today, she'd most probably be fine, but I'd like it if she would cook longer. Babies are cuter with more fat on them.

Nesting has officially begun! Even though I was advised that I should probably be on bed rest because of the spotting, I can't seem to stay away from cleaning. Last night, in an attempt to not clean, I was reading wiki articles on how to clean more effectively. Man, I need help. Finally, I couldn't help myself. I switched the laundry, put a new load in and cleaned the toilet. And the sink. And maybe part of the bathtub. But then I stopped! Promise. I felt a lot better, anyways, and no contractions or anything after it so it is possible to take it easy and clean at the same time.

I'm having the hardest time ever with how not everything is ready for her. The nursery isn't even close to being set up (all that needs to happen is some boxes, a desk and a filing cabinet have to get moved out, it has to (maybe, money permitting) be painted, and then all the stuff has to be arranged) and I know it won't take long. . . But I want all her little clothes in their dresser, all her stuff ready, all the painting done, everything. What if she comes early??? I guess she'll have to deal with sleeping in a drawer and only having a bouncer, a stroller and a diaper pad in her name. Oh, and a tub full of clothes. Which mommy hasn't washed yet because baby detergent costs so friggin' much!!

Ok, enough of this. Also, sorry that I haven't been able to talk about anything but babies for a while. Seems that whatever is going on in my life at the time is what I like talking about. Crazy, huh? I promise other stuff will happen on here, but lots of it will still be tiny human stuff, so *shrug* sorry.

Also, this is my cute baby (she's laying on her side so her face is to the right):



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