Pregnant Diaries: Childbirth...part deux

Well...I must say, childbirth class (now that Mike is there) has been a breeze. So much easier to cope in fake labor knowing he is there. I have yet to make life long relationships with any of these people, but they all seem nice and excited about having a baby. One girl, who is due a month before me is having twin boys. (She also looks about 5 years younger than me, but that's beside the point). It's interesting to see people carry differently, gain weight differently, and overall have a different pregnancy than others. My belly has grown a bit since last week, but I feel a little self conscious. I am sure my belly will expand after Thanksgiving next week!

Ok, so question to my mom friends out there. Does anyone have recommendations on books on birthing and natural childbirth? How about books on preparing your birth partner? I am hoping to go a long way without drugs, if not all the way, but I need all the resources I can get. What are your thoughts?

Pregnant Diaries: Childbirth Class - week 1

Well, you know that you are having a baby for real when you sign up for a childbirth class. It sinks into deep reality when you actually show up to class (in all fear and trembling). "They" say you should take a class in your second trimester, when you are more comfortable and have energy, so we signed up for a class at Sutter Hospital in August, when we were just starting the second trimester. I remember thinking, "gosh, November is so far away. I'm sure I'll be huge by then" looking down at my lack of a belly bump. Well, time flies (in case you haven't heard) and here we are, in November, and here I am, taking a childbirth class. 

It was a nice Wednesday night. Unfortunately, Mike had the flu so he ended up staying home that night. I show up a few minutes early, sign in on the little "sign in" sheet and sit down. I look down at my syllabus for the class, try not to hyperventilate, realizing that I am sure I look like a single mom whose boyfriend left her at the moment she shared the news with him (nothing wrong with that, but just saying) and scan the room. Everyone looks more pregnant than me (for the record, it was cold so I layered that day, which I am sure played a factor in my lack of bump and all the ladies were all due earlier than me). Everyone. Even the men. There is only one other lady without a spousal/partner unit there and she came in late so we didn't have a chance to really say hi. I realize I probably look like a crazy who "shows" up to these things, psychologically thinking she is pregnant but isn't and just had a really big burrito for dinner that night. 

So, the first thing she makes us do it mingle. Ok, I know I make everyone mingle at Vintage at times and it can be super, duper awkward. I really do know and feel your pain. But there is NOTHING more awkward than having to play "baby bingo" with 18 couples who are much farther along than me, who are all thinking I'm a crazy who shows up at baby classes who probably has never been pregnant her life. Everyone was really nice, but I can't help but wonder what they were thinking. And all I think about is during this time of forced socialization is that I want the class to actually start and talk about the important things coming up, not playing bingo (for no prize, mind you) with men and women with real bumps. 

Anyway, the rest of the class does go by quickly, with large diagrams of full term babies, a video of the stages of labor (even including a crotch shot of a baby coming out! The mom cries, "that doesn't look like a baby!" when asked to look down at it), a time of class discussion, mostly talking about the questions the men had. Everything was going smoothly, practicing some breathing techniques until in came to a screeching halt. Time to practice partner-led breathing. Oh crap. 

I look for my single mom compadre and we both give each other the "want to be my partner?" look and we get settled to practice. But before we start, the instructor comes over to us and says, "so, you're flying solo tonight?" "Yes", we both reply. Then she splits us up, my friend practicing with someone's 2nd birth coach (yep, she brought 2) and I end up being teacher's example. 

Honestly, it was nice having her as the one to teach me the technique, because in turn I had to go home and teach it to Mike. At least she knows what she is doing. But it was also weird knowing that the whole class was probably watching me to make sure they were doing the technique right. Luckily, class ended right after that and I split as soon as I could and got out of there.

So that was my first week's experience. Can't wait for next Wednesday! I am thinking it could only go up from here, right?  

Where have I been...?

Well, I must confess I have not blogged (really) in the long time. Here and there, thoughts popped into my mind but no time to actually blog. So, how was the month of October in Sarahland? Here's a synopsis of the last month. 

Early October: Find out that we have been accepted for a (bigger! cheaper!) apartment down the street. Jump on that. Start packing the house. Start Theodyssey. Get really excited to feel like I am at school again. My mom comes over to help me pack. I get stuck in the packing process. 

Mid October: Decide that moving during the sanctuary redesign while having a baby would be a really fun thing to do. Spend 11 hours telling people to rip out pews, build staging, set up chairs. Then get up the next morning and run gatherings. Decide to do it again the next weekend and set up curtains, prayer stations and more set up. Get up the next morning and run our first 9am gathering. Decide to never do a major remodel at work and move at the same time while pregnant.

Late October: Spend exactly one week without the internet or cable at my house. Try to figure out what to do with all the spare time. Sleep when not cleaning or moving. Spend 2 weeks packing, moving (what I actually can move), cleaning (what I can) at our old house, realize that I love our new house all the more. Mom comes over and helps again. I finally have the internet and cable. Slightly miss my fast. Decide to not go over to the other house unless I have to. Do a walk through with landlords after complying a few times to let them show the house at inconvenient times. Smile politely and cross my fingers that the house is in an ok enough situation to rent (it's so subjective, you know?). Do another walk through and find out we had more cleaning to do. Spend four hours cleaning the carport and vacuuming plus other things that Mike did. Crash. Wake up the next morning to hear that we will receive our full deposit back. Realize that working hard does pay off. 

So that has been my month. I am utterly exhausted both at work and at home right now. I'm barely functional. But I figure this is just training ground for when I have an infant and work full time so I better not complain. 

So now, I am going to now turn back our clocks and get my extra hour of sleep that I dreadfully need right now. But before I go, I will leave you with this...

Pregnant Diaries: gender dreams

Ok, so it has been a little while since I last blogged. I will blog about my absence later. But in the meantime...I am currently 20 weeks along, halfway done with the pregnancy, and we find out the gender THIS THURSDAY! (as long as it isn't shy or decides to be a pain at the ultrasound).  It's been a long 4 weeks waiting for this!!

So, last night I had a dream about our sonogram. Mike and I were watching on our cool little screen, so excited to be there and see our baby again and the baby gave a wide open view...of a prenatal wiener. I was thinking, "duh...it's a boy!" So, we leave the appointment and I tell Anne, my friend who just had a baby boy in July and showed her a picture of the ultrasound (the boy was wide open, doing the splits-you couldn't miss it). She was ecstatic. End of dream. 

So, was this a prophetic dream? Will I be taking this kid to baseball practice and have to monitor video game intake? We have a pool going on at work-it's about 50/50 split. we shall see thursday!!

Pregnant diaries: Nesting...already?

Ok, the day leading up to the night of the horrible dream that woke me up at 3:30 am was probably the most fun I have had yet being pregnant. I had basically drank my first cup of coffee in, well, 2 months and had a day full of meetings which charged me up and I was rarin' to go when I got home. I knew there would be a chance we could be moving down the street and I was manic all day. I realized that I needed to harness this enormous amount of energy I somehow acquired and decided to go through our back closet, which has been full of boxes since July 2006. I haven't even looked at it since. 

I love caffeine. I went through 4 boxes in 3 hours that night and had so much energy, I could have kept going through things until the drugs wore off. But, needless to say, I was freaking out Mike who had a conversation with someone the day before who mentioned..."Sarah's going to change. She will be a different person the next 6 months and there is nothing you can do about it. So find an outlet." Lo and behold, he had his first interaction with Manic Sarah the very next day. 

I tried to recreate the amount of energy I had on Tuesday today, had a quick latte at the Abbey and went home to take over the world...and it just didn't work. I feel like i have been faking it. I have gone through more boxes and bags (because we are in fact moving down the street, super excited about that!) today but it's been lackluster. Oh, weird nesting energy, where did you go? Could you come back today? I have more to do!! 

Attention Moms - want your input!

Ok, so as I progress in this whole pregnancy thing, I am realizing there is SO MUCH STUFF out there for a baby that been in the world for like, 30 days. It's amazing. I am slightly overwhelmed by all the possibilities. So...as I start to put together the registry, here is the question: what shwag has been the best investment for you for the first year? I mean, there are bottle warmers, wipe warmers, swings, bouncers, jumpers, mobiles, you name it, they have made it. What actually worked for you? What did you think was not worth the time? I'd love to have your thoughts as I am so...brand new to all of this! 

pregnant diaries: protection

something odd happened to me last night. around 3:30 in the morning, I woke up in this panicky, full-of-adrenaline feeling pumping through my body after a bad dream that kept me up for hours afterward. I had a dream that my brother fell in the shower and lost his leg in the shower (I know, this could probably never happen). He started screaming for my mom (luckily, she was there in my dream), but I came racing in to help in this protective way, and the feelings I felt were as if it were real and Greg was actually my child. 

Ok, this is straight up weird. I have never been the "motherly" type. I just said to someone how much I will take from my parents parenting style and I won't shelter our child, that the kid will be loved but given plenty of room to learn on their own, that I want them to see the world as it is, not some rosy picture I ideally paint that gets crushed at 16 when their first boyfriend dumps them (or realistically, at 11). This person had said that I was in denial about the real feelings and issues I had about my parents parenting (for those who know my parents, they are wonderful, godly people now but I grew up in a pretty non-traditional, dysfunctional household). It's like this is manifesting in my dreams as I sleep at night. These new feelings I had never felt before are coming out. I feel like I have been injected with something. It's honestly, really scary to feel something you have never felt before. Protection is something that pumped through my veins at 3:30 this morning that kept me up for 2 hours. Protection is something that I needed as a kid, but did not know it and pushed it away. Something I will feel for years to come.

I feel like I am Ben Stiller in the movie "Zoolander" as he looks down into a reflection of a puddle and asks, "Who am I?" Except I am not a male supermodel. Didn't just lose a modeling award. And don't plan on working in a coal mine anytime soon.

A Quick Analysis on the New Gavin Rossdale Song

Ok, I am not usually this picky about music (ok, I really am, I will be honest) but I have noticed two things about this new song. As you may know, Gavin Rossdale was the lead singer of the mid-90's band, Bush, who had major success in the alternative air waves, then met Gwen Stefani, decided to date, get married and be a house husband while Gwen toured the world with all her CD's she has made with her band No Doubt and in her solo career. If you remember, Gavin was a hot commodity in the 90's with all the alterna-chicks and post grunge kids. I was a big, big fan. 

Now, about 12 years later, he has released his first solo album (that I am aware of) with a hit song called "Love Remains the Same". My experience with this song has been on 1) soft rock radio stations and 2) TV commercials for "The Biggest Loser" and a new movie with Richard Gere and some other middle aged lady as they dance on the beach in their cashmere sweaters. Now, I know this pins me as a soft rock listener (only when I am stuck in traffic as they are the only stations that offer traffic updates) and a commercial watcher (i do watch TV, I will be honest), but I will let you be the judge.

But here's my question-has Gavin just sold out to what would make him a little bit of money? Or maybe he's aged and this is his new market? OR there are no other good songs for commercials since the Jay Leno lookalike from American Idol who sang the jingle the Ford commercials? Maybe some of these artists are not wanting to go the way of the commercial jingle or maybe commercial marketers are very particular whose songs they pick? Either way, I am a little sad to see Gavin Rossdale go the way of the middle aged movie and letting go of his youth. Yet...it was 12 years ago and well, things change. We age. And so does Gavin.

Pregnant Diaries: First Belly Rub by a Stranger

Ok, so this is a complaint for some, some find it endearing. I was in my chiropractor's office who shares an office with a cute older midwife. She seems so sweet. There was a lady who had a newborn (like under 8 weeks) with her. Somehow or another, I find myself in conversation with those ladies, who ends up asking how far along I am. The midwife, who probably touches bellies on a daily basis, touches mine ever so briefly and says, "what...16 weeks?" I'm a bit caught off guard thinking i might look farther along than I actually am, I correct her and say, "14 weeks actually" and then I was ushered into my chiropractor's office. It was a brief interaction but has now been a life altering experience as I know it will only get worse from here.

I'm still trying to decide how I feel about this. It wasn't a TOTAL stranger-I mean she's a midwife, and touches bellies all the time, but was totally caught off guard since I was not her patient and I am not protruding like a true, full term pregnant woman. I am slightly flattered. Slightly weirded out. Slightly intrigued. Slightly excited for the many more hands to touch the Martin baby. Slightly freaked out by all the guys who hit on pregnant women and wonder if I am next (I'm not kidding, I have seen it in action). But in the mean time, I am going to relish in this new milestone - I have officially had my belly touched by a stranger. 

Pregnant Diaries: Trimester 1

Well...yep, it's official. We are having a little thing called a baby. Honestly, exciting yes, but freaks me out. A little child that will need ME for the next 18-24 years (or beyond???) well, it's a bit scary but I'm taking the plunge and figured if I can't beat 'em, I'll join 'em. 

How I am feeling: Well, i'm nauseous every morning and have to eat the second I wake up. I have the hiccups more now than I ever have in the past. I get "one-liners" now-1 hiccup that is so loud that it could wake the dead, and then I'm done. I have a nose that can smell B.O., bad breath and any other gross bodily function from a million miles away. I literally almost threw up in line at Longs because of someone's bad breath behind me. That was a bad, bad day. Oh, I almost forgot-I sleep so much that I don't have a social life at all. Like 10-12 hours a day plus an afternoon nap (yawn). I feel like I am reverting to childhood. 

How I am doing: really, i am doing pretty well. I think i might still be in shock, but that's ok. Until I am officially showing, I don't think it will set in. And, I am a little freaked out by the fact that I will gain weight. I know, it's inevitable, it's just, well, counterintuitive to me. But hey, whatever is best for baby. I'm getting excited to meet the little spawn of Mike and me. What will it look like? Will it have Mike's haircut and my english toes? Will it be blonde like we were as kids and get Mike's curly hair during puberty? will it be taller than me? Will it come out with horns and a tail? Or worse yet, a Ralph Lauren cashmere sweater tied around it's shoulders, polo shirt and khaki pants, never cracking a joke in its whole entire life? Oh boy. I know, so many things to think about. All I am hoping for is that it's healthy, has Mike's intelligence and my sense of humor (or Mike's. As long as it's funny. That is all that matters).

Ultrasound: That was really crazy. We watched it and it already has symptoms of ADD. It lounged, flipped, sat on the other side, got on it's knees, waved...it was a trip. Our technician kept saying, "you have a rockstar in there!" over and over. Oh boy. The technician said she doesn't give 100% gender descriptions this early, but she thought she had seen some male genitalia. There's a picture that on the bottom, which has an arrow pointing to the possible...manhood. You can be the judge and we will see in 7 weeks if that is so!

i. am. going. insane.

If you have ever been to my house, you might know that I live across the street from a trailer park. Well, the park owners thought that it would really be amazing to repave the park as a sign of goodwill and cheer. About 3 weeks ago, I woke up to amazingly large trucks which sounded like they were right outside my window. At 6:55 a.m. It was a Friday, the one day of the week where I can sleep in a bit. 

Well, the last two or three weeks have been slightly torturous. I wake up in the morning, by 7 a.m., to the sound of trucks entering their driveway, horrible smells from who knows where, and easily 25 cars parked all along Mar Vista. Even people parked in my own alley way for over 2 weeks now! We left for vacation for 5 days and thought maybe they would be finished. We came home only to find it even worse than before we left. It had looked like they hadn't done anything. 

Anyway, all of this to say, it's disrupted my flow. Yes, I would wake up to the garbage truck once a week, or have had people park in my alley way before, but this has been ongoing. Never have I seen so many cars displaced from their homes. I'm sure this must be an inconvenience to those who are patiently waiting to get their car back in their driveway. I know, I know, I just be lucky that it's a repaving project with large trucks and not military tanks or bombs dropping from the sky. Hey, I know it could be worse. But it's slightly inconvenient to try to not hit the car parked behind me as I leave my driveway or hear "beep, beep, beep, beep" for 15 days now. Thankfully, it looks like they might be finishing up today (see images above). But I think if I hear any more reverse beeps, I might go insane.  

10 Reasons Why I Like the Olympics

10. The smorgasbord of events that happen during the day. Yes, I hate basketball, but I know if I grin and bear it for a little while, something actually interesting will come on in the next hour or so. Say, synchro diving.

9. The fact that it is held all over the world each Olympic year. I think it is so neat to see so many nations come to one particular spot for 2 weeks. And the fact that cities beat each other to be the Olympic city. It's a war out there, people.

8. Who knew that "recognised sports" of the International Olympic Committee range from the typical (track and field, aquatics) to the...unusual (billiards, orienteering, tug of war, wushu). They may not actually compete in the 2008 games, but dang it, they are recognized!

7. I am usually on vacation during the olympic games, watching it on another TV other than my own, usually somewhere warm.

6. I feel a little bit better about my TV watching during this time than others-I mean, it's history in the making as I watch someone break a world record (much better than watching Project Runway reruns or "Jon and Kate plus 8" for the fifth time in a day).

5. Call me a dork, but I love the hype. And there is usually some kind of drama. I like drama. From far away and someone else living it out for me.

4. David Letterman's top 10 countdown is usually hilarious during the Olympics, when I can stay up late enough to watch it.

3. 3 words: Opening Ceremony outfits.

2. The fierceness of Rhythmic Gymnastics. Now that is a hard core sport. You can just feel Zoolander-esque staredowns.

1. The fact that it is only 2 weeks. Really, if it was 4 weeks or 8 weeks or 6 months of fierce competition, would we really look forward to the next four years (well 2 years for winter), like a lady in waiting? 

I don't think so.

Blog...I Have Neglected You

Blog, I am so sorry. I haven't been spending quality time with you lately. You see, life gets so crazy and the weeks pass by and before I know it, I am away from the computer for days on end (vacation)...I mean, we all need a vacation, Blog. Believe me, every night as I go to sleep I think, "I should have spent some time with Blog today". I do miss you and think about you a lot. And I apologize for not being present right now. Life is just nuts, man, it is. I want more spare time, but I can't find it. And I mean, the Olympics is on. That's only once every 4 YEARS. 

So, Blog, I just want to let you know that when I am back from vacation, I will give you all the quality time you need. I will sit down with a cup of tea, listen to your feelings, and reconcile our relationship. Blog, I will see you in a week.

quick rant on politics.

Well, happy freaking 4th of July! I am awake at 12:20 a.m. because my "cute" neighbors are having a fireworks competition literally 15 feet from my house. What a fun way to celebrate the independence of this little country called the United States of America (a.k.a. "America, U.S.A., the U.S., united states, consumeristic country of the world, fill in the blank). Anyway, this day is a big day in the history of our country (so they say) and I have been thinking alot about the "p" word lately. 

Obama and McCain are vying for our votes. That is great. And I have always tried to vote in a sense, as a conscience clearing time. I think...ok, i have done my research, I think I am voting how God would want me to vote, my friends are probably thinking the same things I am thinking, you know-a sigh of relief. "Ahhhhh, ok, the duty is DONE, and I hope it matters". I would walk away feeling that I voted on my morals and ethics. Spending my duty, my half an hour in a cubby hole punching in my vote based on what I believe in on a larger, intrinsic level. And I still think I might do that-but do I vote on these larger principles even when it is an inconvenience to me?

Someone said to me, after being against universal health care for many years say, "Is it bad that I am for universal health care now that I am uninsurable?" I know this person was joking and wasn't necessarily he would base his vote on his current condition in the insurance coverage...but I can't help but think that there was a twinge in him thinking...I can't be covered now...maybe that something is better than nothing. I'm not arguing if universal health care is good, or bad, or indifferent...but that we vote mostly based on what's in it for us.

Take for instance..the multimillionaire who doesn't want to pay large taxes. This person will obviously not vote for someone who will raise their particular taxes.  The welfare mom...will probably not vote for someone who will cut welfare spending. The sick woman who has not had health coverage due to a preexisting condition will probably vote in favor for universal healthcare or something of the like. We think and vote according to our life, our lifestyle, and what will make US where ever we are at, the happiest and most comfortable. 

A few questions come to mind as we look at who we will vote for this coming fall. First is...are we thinking about what they repercussions of our vote will take on ALL the country? Every citizen? Even those without a vote? What impact will it have? Maybe a lot of us are thinking about this and make super educated votes, but mostly, I vote half-assed (excuse my language but there is no other euphemism for this), not taking the time to know all the issues and how it affects everyone in this country.

secondly...am I willing to stand for morals or ethics even if it means I am less comfortable? Am I willing to be selfless at the voting booth? Am I willing to sacrifice for something knowing I would not benefit? The example comes to mind is the call for caring for the poor. If it means I am taxed higher than ever, am I ok with this or will I dump my morals when it gets hard or impacts my life? Most likely...I'd look for the easy way out.

Mainly...I realized this week (maybe a little later than others) that voting is SO subjective. I want to know so badly how Jesus would have voted. If so, I'd just vote party line! I hope I am guided by scriptures and vote biblically and selflessly. But really, we have our own lens. Our own context we are making decisions in. With or without a Jesus filter to guide us. Each person comes from a different experience, a different socioeconomic lifestyle, a different place in life. Some of us will make the most objective vote as possible this Fall, but really, there is so much subjectivity within our objective vote that we can't help but vote for what benefits us. It's our nature. It's what our country was really founded on.. The life, liberty and pursuit of happiness sure looks different from the eyes of a business tycoon than a homeless man. 

Happy independence day, friends. 

 

what is your worldview?

take this quiz and share what you score in the comments!

www.worldviewweekend.com/test/register.php

take a guess on how I scored! the person with the closest score wins a prize! (1 - 168 is possible).

I actually thought it was a joke until I got to the scoring. Nope, it's not-it's provided by Focus on the Family.

Have fun taking the quiz! please, do share your results!!

personality driven TV

Something weird happens internally when a news reporter dies. Think about it. These people are in your lives every day at 5:30 p.m. reporting the important things you need to know that day. The warm glow from the television feels like body heat and it's almost like they are really in front of you. You begin a new level of camaraderie with this person as they share things with you that could change your day. They aren't playing a "part" on t.v.-they are themselves, with their own bias, sharing real information. It's reality TV at is best. It's like a friend, a stern friend, a matter of fact friend that speaks into your life whether you are ready or not. They usually hold the role as anchor as long as they can so you may see them over many, many years on the same station, listening to the same theme music. He or she is a part of your life - a part of this era of our lives - whether we ever watch the news or not. 

When Peter Jennings died, something inside of me changed. As long as I could remember, Peter Jennings reported the nightly news to my family (I started watching the nightly news around age 7). He shared, day in and day out, the news to my family. It was odd when he took time off and wasn't in the anchor chair-the stand in just couldn't fill the shoes of my nightly anchor. He was Peter Jennings, my news anchor. When he passed, it was like a part of my childhood had died. I had gotten so used to him sitting there, sharing the newest information. 

I relived this moment today with the news of Tim Russert passing away today. Tim was a devout Catholic, a man of honesty and integrity (or so the media says, since I didn't know him personally). I was saddened-even if I did change the channel on Sunday mornings so I didn't have to hear the "Meet the Press" intro music. An end of an era is approaching, like it did with Peter Jennings. 

What is an interesting parallel to me is the concept of the same pastor/teacher teaching in the same "pulpit" for however many years they serve. They show up on Sundays, and people expect to see that person (usually a man...just sayin). They get comfortable with that same teacher each week that when they go on vacation or spend a sunday out of the "pulpit" you usually hear things like, 'so and so did a good job teaching, but it just wasn't (name pastor here)'. Some people won't show up on a Sunday if they don't hear the teacher of choice, just like how I would change the channel if Peter Jennings wasn't the one reporting that night. 

Is this a bad thing? maybe not...but it really puts a lot of pressure on that teacher to not take too much time off, be prepared to have the most refreshing message each week. It also doesn't give the opportunity for other teachers to rise up and use their gifts, which just enforces the entertainment model, consumeristic mindset that unfortunately many Christians endorse (at least with their actions). And if that person moves churches or God forbid, dies-the church is then going through a huge identity crisis as it was personality driven. But there is something comfortable with the same person up there each week, sharing God's word to change my life. But...then again, it all comes back to me and my comfort.

I am saddened by the passing of Tim Russert today, but maybe with his passing opens a chance of a new leader to take his place. Maybe NBC will now rotate anchors, so not one person is so attached to the same warm glow, the same personality that is broadcasted each day. But then again... the news report is based on personalities. 

The church isn't. 

yes

This little word is such a determining factor in our lives. Just think about how much of a turning point and life change that one word can bring. 

"Yes, i will help you move"...could mean a few less hours of work and some company before a trip ahead, which could mean leaving the road a little less tired and arrive a little bit earlier.

"Yes, you have been accepted into our university"...can mean the sphere of people you will meet, professors you will have, social issues you will face. 

"Yes, you have been offered the job"...means more (or less) pay...maybe a move into a new town...with new working conditions and circumstances. 

"yes, you are having a child"...can mean a whole lot of things and decisions if the child is wanted (or not), a planned part of life (or not), and a life change, nonetheless. 

"yes, you do have cancer"...changes how we view life, how we see our family and friends, our plan of attack to be healed, preparing for possible death, plus massive amounts of change.

"Yes, I will marry you"...can mean a lifetime of love and happiness. Or misery if it is the wrong person.

"yes, i will help you with this project, lead this team"... can mean a new endeavor in our lives, honing in on what we love (or highlighting what we hate), a new amount if energy going toward a task, a lending hand willing to sacrifice time and energy...

"Yes" is a word we all want to hear - for the most part. Yes means change. Yes can mean help. Yes can mean fulfillment. Yes means a lightened load. 

I can be impulsive. I see something I like, i usually will jump at the chance to get it. If I am invited to a function, I rarely say no. If I am enticed...I succumb to the pressure. I say yes. I jump at the chance of something new, fun, creative, goofy, lovely, wonderful, weird. I have impulsively said yes to dates that I should have said no to (and some I firmly said no). I have impulsively taken jobs I knew I would probably hate in no time. I have moved on impulse a few times. I do truly believe that I have mellowed out as I have aged-no longer to I blow paychecks on clothing or anything of the sort. But I do have an impulsive streak that has to be kept in check. To do so...I have to learn to retire the word "yes". 

I am realizing that "yes" is a word that should be uttered cautiously and decisively. 

And it should be rarely said. 

When I was 18, I was exceptionally excited to serve in ministry. I was serving in the junior high ministry, helping out on the events team, singing on the worship team, helping out with women's ministry, plus going to college and working 2 part time jobs. I realized I was on my way to burn out and no one was holding me back. I think I was a young, able bodied person (which as more of a rare sight at my church than it is now) willing to help and lead. But no one was willing to help me say no. 

I think it is a leader's job to tell people no sometimes. No matter how absolutely desperate we might be to have a spot filled by someone capable, everyone is vying for those people. And sometimes it feels like in the church there are about 2% of them and everyone has tapped them for their "thing". And then once everyone has tapped the same 2%, it's like 2% of the people are doing 80% of the work. and basically, it's unfair to them (lives, family, relationship with God, overall health, etc) and to those who do not have a place to serve now.

I have been in positions lately where I have just said yes to those who are very capable, mature leaders where I just needed someone capable to "git er done". Someone I can entrust it all and know it will be cared for and loved. But I am realizing so has almost every other ministry asked those same people and its unfair. To those people, I apologize! i should have said no earlier. Hindsight is 20/20.

yes, i should have said no. but like a good friend said, it is not taught in church. We are trying to hold the staff accountable for that, but i need to do the same to my leaders. It's something that is rarely taught in bible college. You don't have "Boundaries 101" or "How to Say No with Minimal Consequences" as a freshman requirement. And although it is talked about, it is so hard to actually live out. 

So for me..."no" is the new "yes". Let's use it deliberately, cautiously...and as liberal as possible for our own health's sake. 

verbal vomit for the weeks of April 27th-May 17th

Ok, I truly feel like a verbal vomitter (not sure if this is a word) because I have not blogged in say, 3 weeks and I have bottled up all my thoughts. Ok, so the last two posts were just on the last two day alone. Here's a quick verbal vomit of the last three weeks:

1. I am increasing more hippie-ish and green as I age. I literally was upset that someone who drives a large SUV was just now thinking about getting rid of the vehicle - just because of the cost of gas. Not the fact that we are eating up a resource we can ever produce again or the greenhouse gases they are emitting...I digress. Better late than never. (my nissan, though falling apart, gets good gas mileage-just don't ask me to drive farther than Santa Cruz in it).

2. I am beginning to really love the beach. Ok, i know this is ridiculous. I live a half a mile and I rarely go down there. But Mike and I spent some time baking in the sun on friday, we went in the ocean for a short time in our swim suits (I screamed like a tourist), i laid out and got some color. I could live here forever. Really.

3. I am increasingly more excited about creative arts at Vintage Faith. Exciting things are happening. The artists in residence program has come out of hiding and is back! We created our first video in 2 years this week. I am falling more and more in love with art and its many forms. It looks like I am getting a Sacred Space team again. I can't wait for the teams to be healthy and functioning so I can dream more! I'm living a dream of mine here and it's coming to life! Right now is a good season-I am feeling less overwhelmed and tired. I am feeling like we are finding our goofy Vintage niche again. It feels good.

4. God's just really blessing me with the pure and simple things. I dont feel too caught up in a lot right now. I love life, Mike, the simplicity of summer, warmth, light summer dresses, good food, good friends, a great family and just pure joy. I'm not taking it for granted and truly know these great moments are from God.

5. I am feeling much more myself during this season-i think more than ever. I feel fully alive, fully feeling my emotions, senses, what I am intuiting, and sense what God is doing much more than I have in the past.

6.  I have limited my TV usage immensely. I dont even care who wins American Idol this time. I am not using it as background noise anymore. If i watch something, I watch it and put down the computer or book. If I am not interested, I am turning it off. (for many years I couldn't concentrate without background noise-TV or radio). 

7. I have been meeting A LOT of new people that i really really like, and hope to be their friend. People from different situations, faiths and lifestyles, and it is enriching my life and my view of the missional call. 

8. I HAVE to get back to the gym. I have been busy and tired, but I am lethargic and out of shape. And each time I take an extended break, I gain weight. So...back to the gym I go. :) 

9. I love to have my friends over. I never thought this day would come, but I really love it and want people to come over and eat all my food! I mean, spend time with each other!! I thoroughly enjoyed my birthday party this year and cant wait to have a bigger bash next year. 

10. I like blogging and I want to grow in it. I want to grow in my writing, my wordage, my experiences to blog about. I really want to write a book one day. Yeah. I do. 

11. I am SO tired of election coverage. Will someone just win? I know we still have delegates to fork out and primaries to win...but COME ON already. I can't wait for November. No...wait-i take that back. I can wait.

ok...that's a quick verbal vomit from the couch of sarah martin. Tune in next time...

home

last night i drove from my dad's house in sunnyvale to my college roommate/best friend/saving grace's baby shower in south san jose. I drove all the familiar streets to get to her party. It felt familiar, as though it hadn't been that long ago. The shower was at my ex-boyfriend's parents house (who are such great people), which I hadn't been to in over 6 years. It was literally a flashback. It was weird looking at the family photos that I remember noticing 6 years ago, and see the new ones, shouting the joy and love from the frame. Not bad at all, just couldn't believe it had been that long ago. I'm feeling old. 

The shower was a fun time reliving some fun memories and making new ones. I couldn't believe Anne and I had been friends for over 6 or 7 years now. I love making new memories now-not to replace the old, per se, but to enhance now. I am so excited for Anne and can't wait for her to have baby Tyrone :).  And I can't wait to continue to make new memories together.

i realized driving back that night that San Jose really is not home anymore. It hasn't been in 4 years. Most of my memories of those times are now distant, with new memories taking space in my brain. Is that normal? I don't want to forget those times, but I know that I am much more attached to these new memories with Anne, and all my friends and family-including you-than the old, and i feel at home more now than ever before. 

I love home. 

looking our nuclear best

I remember sitting in my room as a kid, whimsically thinking about what life will be like when I am older. I was one of two kid who grew up, in my early years, in a nice house, in a good area. Had 2 parents at home. Our house sat on a hill and overlooked the whole city. My bedroom as a kid was considerably girlie. I had a canopy attached to my 4 poster bed. Pink ribbon wallpaper adorned the four walls of the room, where I would sit and play dolls hours on end. I was definitely girlie; squealing at spiders and afraid of dirt. I played barbies and collected dolls (which actions were enforced by family members who were only allowed to buy me dolls with the name Sarah on it). I lived a whimsical, idilic, girlie life for the first ten years in a beautiful nuclear family. 

In 6th grade, I realized that the "cool" girls weren't girlie-they were hardcore. They grew up in the barrios. Their single parents were at work or doing drugs when they were walking home from school. They threw fist fights and used words I had only heard in movies and when my parents were extremely upset at each other. I tried as best as I could to be "hardcore": wearing wet-n-wild 578-a deep, dark purple, getting my first perm and learning how to "do" my bangs correctly, watching all the girls' moves when they'd start a fight. 

During this time, what my parents portrayed to me as a traditional family was just that-a portrayal. We weren't really a nuclear household, we just played one on t.v. And everything that I knew as normal was not. So, I threw it all out the window. I did not want to be traditional. Because most of my friends came from a divorced or single family home, I thought people who had a traditional home was lying. Lying to me, lying to themselves, lying to others. And to be honest, I loved it. I loved being non-traditional. I remember fighting with my grandmother at age sixteen on how I didn't plan to celebrate holidays with my kids because all the ones I experienced was not a happy ordeal. Oh, boy, was she mad at me! 

As I grew, and came to know Jesus, I continued to feel a tension. a tension that was beyond me. I wanted to love-love a man, a child, a family. But I wanted so much to not fold into the "traditional" mold, because frankly, it didn't exist for me. People I knew that were such were secretly unhappy when they closed the door for the night. I hated flowery dresses and was so afraid of losing my own identity. 

I rebelled: i refused to learn to cook, would not give up my dreams for my early college boyfriend whom I thought I'd marry (he believed in a traditional relationship, which meant that I'd have to find a career that I could dump once the kids came), refused to be the housekeeper as I was at my childhood house for many years. I was SO hoping Mike would be mr. mom. It was like I was a punk teenager (and adult, really) with my arms crossed mostly just in one area: gender roles. 

But wonder sometimes that this world that people created for me (intentional or unintentional) of whimsical dreams of girls doing "girl things" and boys doing "boy things" was well intentioned, but actually failed. Maybe only in a few people out there, people actually, happily, live out truly traditional roles. Maybe most of us live a hybrid lifestyle. Maybe because of my uprooting and shaking of all things traditional in junior high has left me a bit jaded. Or a lot jaded. 

I think I might be maternal somewhere inside of me. One day, it will emerge. I don't doubt it. I think it is starting. I think the pendulum in my life is finally swinging back to moderation. But I'm probably going to use a banana sling thing to carry around my kid, probably going to use cloth diapers so our kids will actually have a planet to live on, sing lullabies of Nine Inch Nails and Nirvana to them (Black Hole Sun works well on crying newborns). I'll probably write a book in the wee hours of the night while they are sleeping, never really quit drinking coffee (I have gone back to my wicked ways, friends), mountain bike til I die, hopefully travel part time for work with the other half in the office, baby in tow (ok...that might not happen). 

There are things that I probably won't do as a wife or mom...stay at home 24/7 without some type of outside fulfillment (otherwise, i'll probably go insane), do crazy deep cleaning (that's where Mike's government training steps in), run a Mary Kay/Tupperware/Candle/Pampered Chef company (not that it is a bad thing at all-I definitely will not miss a party, my consultant friends!), own a large SUV to hold all my kids sports gear and use up all the world's natural resources, join a moms-only club, forget to take care of myself for the sake of junior, wear an apron for extended periods of time or adopt male headship theology. 

I know-you are reading this thinking one of two things: 1) it's about time i realize that no matter how hard I ever try, I will never be Suzie Homemaker and am hung up on this whole issue or 2) I am highly opinionated.  And it's true. One and two are very true. and I have been ever since I was a little kid, waking up in my four poster bed, fighting with my grandmother as a teen over traditions, I have always been an opinionated non-traditionalist. And inasmuch as I have been so afraid of upsetting the norm of christian culture...it's ok. Jesus will not smite my family for not looking its nuclear best. We plan to love each other and Jesus, keep our commitments, and have fun. That's all that matters really. And it's ok.

And it's ok to be me. 

And to be honest...and I am enjoying finding out what looks like for us. 

(more twisted tales from the non-traditionalist to come!)