My Big Mistake and How Zooey Deschanel Saved Me

I really blew it last weekend.

Here's the thing.  I'm never going to tell you a story about how I fought with someone and how it was all their fault and how I was completely blameless.  The truth is I have a big mouth.  Even if I hadn't started the fight, I want to finish it.  And even when I don't want to finish it, I've certainly said something to continue it.

I guess last Saturday I wanted to fight.

First I got up early and decided to go Christmas shopping.  I kissed Hubby good-bye at 9 AM while he was still in bed.  He asked when I would be home and I told him that I would be home for lunch.  I went on my merry way and knocked out some serious Christmas shopping.  Just after 1 PM, I headed back to my car and started to head home.  At 1:23 PM, I noticed that I missed a call from Hubby at 1:14 PM.  I thought, "Oh, he must be getting hungry. I'll call him real quick and let him know that I'm on my way home."  When he answered, I could hear a lot of noise in the background.  When I asked where he was, he told me that he went out for lunch because he was tired of waiting for me.  Tired of waiting for me?  It took me nine minutes to call him back.  Well, I was pretty pissed and I ended up hanging up on him (I'm also not the most mature fighter).

My issue with that was that he didn't call me at 1:14 to see where I was.  He called me to tell me he was going out to lunch even though I told him I'd be home for it.  He doesn't think about how I'm not telepathic and didn't know that he'd been hungry for an hour beforehand.  I thought it was rather selfish that he called and then ran out the door.

I sat around waiting for him for a couple of hours while he ran errands.  I confronted him when he came home.  And, no, this is not the part of the story that is referring to when I really screwed up.  I stand by my reaction to him doing that.  He tried to blame it on a "miscommunication". No, I communicated accurately that I would be home for lunch. He chose to ignore that and went to lunch when he got hungry.

This was a little thing.  We talked about it and it went away (sort of).

We picked out a Christmas tree that evening but Hubby wasn't in the mood to decorate it.  So we put it up and plopped ourselves down on the couch.  After a couple of hours, we decided to go out to dinner.

We went to a restaurant that had a special strawberry rum drink on their menu.  I ordered one.  Please note: I do not drink that often, so my tolerance is low.

I started drinking and it was delicious. I offered Hubby a sip and he was stunned by how strong it was.  Immediate issue: I hadn't noticed.  I sucked down my drink and was definitely feeling it when we left.

In the car ride home, I started harping on him about how he buys my Christmas gifts a year late.  I guess you'll need a little back story for this.  Here it goes:

When I first moved to Houston in the fall of 2008, we were not going to have a TV in the bedroom.  This would be the first time since I was about five that I didn't have a TV in my bedroom.  I had made comments about it when I originally moved, but I got over it pretty fast.  We lived in a little apartment and now that I had someone to go to bed with, it really didn't seem necessary.  For Christmas 2009, I really wanted a DSLR camera.  Like, really badly.  Hubby had asked what I wanted for Christmas and this is a direct quote of how I responded, "I really want a camera.  Please don't get me anything other than a camera.  All I want is a camera. It's going to be expensive so please don't get me anything other than a camera."  That Christmas there was a box, about the size of a camera under the tree.  I was excited for days leading up to it so that I could open my camera.  When I opened it, it was a TV remote.  He had bought me a TV for Christmas.  Well, I was certainly surprised....

Last year, I had asked Hubby to get me a really nice standing jewelry box.  I wanted the kind that was like a piece of furniture.  But, after talking about how much money we had spent already for the season, we decided that that was going to be too expensive.  So he didn't get one for me.  Although, I have to say, once he started spending, he definitely spent that kind of money on me.  Anyway, I received a gift from my mother a few days ago.  She does everything early.  It was a jewelry box.  When I called her to thank her, she said 'A little birdie told me that you wanted that.'  I laughed because that was last year.

I know. I know.  I sound super materialistic with this sidebar, but please realize that I'm not a stereotypical woman.  I do not drop hints at what I want and then act disappointed when I don't get what I want.  He always says that it's so hard to buy me presents--FYI that's ridiculous.  Spend five minutes in a mall and anyone that has ever met me can spend about $100 that quickly. I'm super easy to buy for.  So to help him out, I tell him what I want.  He doesn't get it and then he complains about how hard I am to shop for.  I couldn't imagine how he would have handled being with one of those women that just hint at things and expect their husband to be a mind reader.

End of sidebar.

So back to last Saturday.  We were in the car on our way home.  I was drunk from one drink.  I started harping on Hubby about how my presents are always a year late.  He says something like "See why I get stressed out about what to get you."  Then I start yelling that it's not hard to get me presents because I tell him what to get me, but he makes it impossible.

Then I want yogurt so I make him stop.  But he doesn't want yogurt so he pouts about it.  I don't want to sit with him pouting so I yell in the parking lot to get back in the car.  And then this is where I really blew it (trust me, I was not at my finest in the moments leading up to this but it gets worse).

I start yelling at him in the car that I'm sick of not telling him things because it will damage his sensitive ego.  I screamed about all the things that bother me that I never talk about.  I yelled about his Christmas decorations, I yelled about issues in the bedroom, I yelled about assorted little things that I had been keeping to myself for a reason.  Individually, hearing each one probably wouldn't have been so bad.  But hearing all of them at once.  I don't know if there's a word strong enough to describe how mean I was, and Bitch certainly isn't going to cut it.

We got home and Hubby remained calm.  He parked himself in front of the TV and I lost it again. I was screaming for him to get out of my face (in my defense--the little that I can make for this case--I wanted him to leave the room not the house). I continued yelling until he left.

Pretty much as soon as I heard the door close behind him, I thought, "What just happened?"

I waited a little while and then I got in my car and went to the pool hall he usually goes to.  He wasn't there. I called him. I said "I'm sorry."  He said that he went for a drive.  I waited, not patiently, for him to get home. I apologized again when he got home.  I really felt terrible.  I don't often apologize, sometimes even when I know I'm wrong.  But this was worse than just wrong.

Things weren't right with us for a few days.  We were speaking but it wasn't right.  I felt awful every day until it was.  He's not easy to make a nice gesture for to fix everything.  He's not a big eater so I couldn't make him a dinner to come home to.  I thought about maybe making spicing it up in the bedroom but even that I knew couldn't fix anything.  As upset as he was, it was very likely I would have been rejected and I just couldn't handle that.

On a lighter note, he did come around Tuesday night after we watched New Girl.  Zooey Deschanel is his major celebrity crush.  I finally heard him start to laugh while we watched the episode, and then when it was over, he asked, "Do we still have that Conan she was on last week?"  So we watched that.  After that much Zooey, he was over it.  He was back to his normal self, chewing my ear off as we got ready for bed and as we laid in bed trying to go to sleep.  So now I know.  When having a major fight with Hubby, always have a Zooey show/movie on hand.  I think I'm going to run out and buy (500) Days of Summer.

Back from NJ

The following is an accurate list of every city/town I made it to while on my trip to NJ from November 19 at about 1 PM EST to November 26 at 9 AM EST:

Newark - Plainfield - Madison - Cranford - Metuchen - Plainfield - Chatham - Summit - Chatham - Metuchen - Plainfield - Brooklyn - Clark - Cranford - East Rutherford - Plainfield - Fanwood - Union - Newark - Scotch Plains - Asbury Park - Scotch Plains - Plainfield - Manhattan - Fords - Cranford - Roselle Park - Cranford - Kenilworth - Cranford - Old Bridge - Garwood - Plainfield - Westfield - Cranford - Garwood - Piscataway - Matawan - Sayreville - Clark - Cranford - Newark

It was crazy but it was a blast.  I miss NJ so much.  I knew this would happen.  I knew that if I went home for an extended period of time that my homesickness would come back with a vengeance.

Other than missing being a heartbeat away from the greatest city in the world and the 'burbs I once knew like the back of my hand, this trip made me genuinely miss the support system I had there.  And this is going to blow you away, I'm including Hubby's side of the family with that statement.

I miss watching football on Sunday with my dad.

I miss having friends that I can just call on a whim and go shopping or go grab a bite to eat with them.

I miss monthly game nights with a group of friends that made me laugh until my stomach hurt.

I miss running into people I know or once knew while at the store.  Although I do take full advantage of not having to worry about this here, and definitely run to the store in questionable attire/appearance.

I miss being there for life changing events in friends and family's lives.  I have one friend that is engaged and two that are pregnant.  I want to be there for these moments, and not just the big ones.  I want to be there for all the little steps along the way.

So we have a big beautiful house here.  Trust me, it's big and beautiful.  Something that I could have never imagined owning in NJ.  But is it worth giving all that up?

After over three years here, sometimes I still feel very alone.

And that's your Debbie Downer Thursday post.........

Heading Home for the Holiday

We're going to NJ tomorrow!!!

This will of course lead to an inevitable, "I'm homesick" post once we get back.

My head is already spinning.  We basically have plans for nearly every minute of every day we're in NJ.  We'll be there for a week.

I've been working hard to lose weight and have even lost some (and by some, I mean something worth bragging about).  I'm trying my best to go into this with the right state of mind.  Yes, I may gain some weight.  It's okay.  If I don't say that, it's a slippery slope from there.  It's okay if I gain some weight.  I will be sure to make the best decisions I can while I'm away.

FYI, I fully intend to OD on bread, sandwiches, and pizza.  Can you figure out why I already know that I'll gain some weight?

Anyway, I'm super excited to be going home for the holiday.  I haven't been home for Thanksgiving since 2008--that's pretty wild for someone that never strayed too far from home until 2008.

I'm super nervous because I have a really terrible relationship with my MIL.  In fact, I'm so nervous about how that will go over the next week (and then the month after that because she doesn't tend to let you know that she's upset and if she does it's not for weeks after), I just threw up in my mouth a little. Awesome.  My MIL stories are for another time, and there are plenty.  Let's just say that one of the last Thanksgivings I spent with her she told my mother that I was a bitch and everyone that would listen that Hubby (then boyfriend) and I should see other people. Did I mention Awesome?

So I'm sure I'll come back with lots of juicy stories.  I'll even try to write while I'm away.  Although, I'm not making any promises.  I typically only write once a week as it is.

Wish me luck and if I'm not back before Thanksgiving, Happy Turkey Day, GOBBLE GOBBLE!

Can You Please Bring Dinner to My Party?

Have you ever been invited to someone's house and have them ask you to bring dinner?

No?

Well, as of this week, I have.

We have these friends that Hubby went to college with.  They're a lovely couple except that they're low talkers and the husband is a bit of a know-it-all.  Although, if you already know this about him, you sort of know what you're getting yourself into when hanging out with him and it's not that big of deal.  My only other complaint is that the husband can be a little socially, umm, retarded.

I'll tell you though, he's an engineer.  And as a woman who married an engineer and has A LOT of engineers walk in and out of her life, I am well aware that they can be a bit socially awkward.  Luckily, Hubby is on the lesser end of the socially awkward spectrum, but he sure has his moments.

Well, this guy falls a little further on the spectrum.  He's completely harmless and I get that. He's a little exhausting but I know plenty of people that I can say that for.

But then this week, he stole the cake.

He nicely invited us over to watch Hubby's college play a pretty big game that for a change was being nationally televised.  I accepted for us and made the mistake of asking if we should bring anything.

Before I get to what we were asked, let me tell you this.  This guy always makes very specific requests.  Hubby and I typically get a good laugh out of it.  One time, we asked this question and we were told to bring guacamole. Not, bring some dip or bring something to snack on before dinner.  It was "Stop and pick up some guacamole." Again, let me be clear.  He wasn't asking us to make some of my "famous guacamole that everyone just raves about" because a) that doesn't really exist--although I do make it and it is delicious and b) we received this request as we were walking out of the door.

So back to this time, I asked the question and his response was (paraphrased) "Wings would be nice. We're going to make that cheese dip that [Hubby] likes."

Umm, did he really just say "Bring dinner and we'll have one snack here that your husband likes but that you don't"?  I was stunned.  I was just asked to provide dinner for someone else's get together.

Something you should know about me. I love to host.  And I mean LOVE it.  Every reason there is to get everyone to my home, I will gladly do it.  I always cook enough for an army (true) and my Hubby always has enough to drink for an army.  I will have something of everything because my big [hosting] fear is that someone will leave my house hungry.  People ask me if they can bring anything when the come over but they always already know the answer. No, I'll have plenty of food.

The funny part is that this guy NEVER has enough food to feed half the amount of people that are at his house.  I guess his big [hosting] fear is to have leftovers.  I had already planned to have dinner before we went over and when Hubby asked why, he quickly agreed when I told him there was no chance they'd have enough food.

But then, I got the request. "Can you please bring dinner to my party?" Nuts. Just nuts.

Well, as an awesome host and a spiteful person, I refused to bring it.  I told him we were going to eat dinner before and I was just wondering if he wanted us to bring any game time snacks.  I never heard back from him. I'm sure there were some words spoken about me behind my back. OH WELL. They aren't the first and they won't be the last.

There's a [Slight] Chance I [May] Have Figured Out What I Want to Be When I Grow Up [Maybe]

I did it! I did it!

Last weekend, I was a wedding planner. And it was awesome!

As mentioned in previous posts, since I was a teenager I aspired to be like Jennifer Lopez.  Well, Jennifer Lopez in The Wedding Planner.  Although, my behind has always been a little JLo.

I digress.

I'm not sure if I mentioned it before but my last job was awful.  I was very miserable in the role and honestly, I was knocking on depression's door.  I had to do something to get out, so I figured I'd do something to put me in the direction of my dream.  I posted an ad on CraigsList and laid all my cards on the table.  I had little experience beyond planning my own wedding but if someone would take a chance on me, I would plan their wedding for free.

I got a call.

I knew from the beginning this was a really great situation for me.  I spoke with Bride originally in March and she sounded super organized. Actually, she sounded a lot like me.  She didn't want to give up any part of the wedding planning but recognized she needed help staying organized on the day of her wedding.  That's where I would come in.  Her wedding wasn't until November but I offered to help her every way that I could in the meantime.

I met her a couple of times in September and October so that we could figure out how the day should go.  I created a timeline.  Even just that felt like such a great accomplishment.  I was doing it!

Last Friday afternoon, I headed to Houston to attend the rehearsal.  I was out of my element there.  Everyone in the wedding had these big personalities and their were small children running wild in the church--this was one of the reasons I did NOT have small children in my wedding.  The truth was I really went because I wanted to get a feel for it.  Chances were I wasn't going to be at the church for the ceremony.  There was a chance that I would be able to stop by while the women were getting ready but beyond that it was in the wedding party's hands.

I woke up on Saturday at 6:30 AM, earlier than I do on a work day.  I showered, got ready (I only every do my makeup on occasions I think I need to look like a grown up), and ate a filling breakfast.  I grabbed my AWESOME emergency kit that I put together the night before and away I went.

I made it to the reception hall at 9 AM moments before Bride.  It was a really neat venue, an old fire station converted into a hall.  There was a large piece of plywood where there should be a beautiful custom door.  It was in the center of the room where the cocktail hour was to be held.  And in my first moments as a wedding planner, I had a bride have a meltdown.

I didn't have to face the meltdown on my own.  There was a group of Bride's friends there to help decorate.  Together we all talked her off the ledge.  We began decorating.  Bride was so organized and had such a great eye for party decorations.  We put everything out as she had designated.

When we were done decorating the downstairs room, one of the women who had worked at the venue had someone come and drape cloth over the plywood.  While this wasn't a wonderful fix, it took away attention from it and Bride was satisfied with the solution.

We headed upstairs and began decorating the reception room.  We did everything from the linens to the floral arrangements.  It all looked beautiful!

As we were wrapping it up, Bride mentioned that she had to run to Kinko's to get the signs made for the reception. Whaaaat?? I explained to her that was why I was there.  It took some convincing but she handed this task over to me.  Yes, one of my first successes as a wedding planner.

Away the bridal party went to lunch and away I went to Kinko's.

I stopped in on the bride while she was getting her hair done.  Then I went back to the reception hall and began meeting all the vendors.

First, the baker arrived and delivered the cake.

Second, the DJ arrived.

Third, the photographer arrived.

Finally, I ran to get a bite to eat.  No matter how busy I am, I never miss a meal!  I ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner on my wedding day even when everyone told me I wouldn't get a bite. Yeah, those people don't know me.

I came back to the reception hall to meet the caterer at 4 PM.

4:05 PM No caterer

4:10 PM I called the number I had for the caterer.  No answer.  I left a message politely asking if they needed directions.

4:15 PM I began to panic.  See, I had trouble getting a hold of the caterer to confirm they were coming.  When I Googled the company, it came up that the owner marked the business as closed.  But she called and confirmed earlier that week so I disregarded what came up in the Google search.  I was NOT prepared to deal with the caterer not showing up for my very first wedding. Pure panic.

4:25 PM A young man came in and told me that he was one of the waiters and the caterer was on her way.

PHEW!!!

Late, but phew!

I never made it to the church because I had to essentially babysit the caterer.  But that's what I signed up for, right?  When needed, I will be a babysitter for whoever needs it.

At the stroke of 6 PM, guests began to arrive for the cocktail hour.  AND IT BEGAN!

Everything went relatively smoothly.  At one point, I had to run out and get plastic knives.  Overall the caterer was a disaster.  Right down to that they did not bring any knives.  As I was LITERALLY running into Kroger, I thought, "Yeah, I LOVE this."

At the end of the night, a group of friends, family, and I cleaned everything up.  By this point, I was exhausted.  I panicked one last time. I thought it would take us hours to get everything cleaned up and packed away in their cars.  But I pulled myself together and began working as fast as I could.  In just an hour, we had everything cleaned up and I made it home at about 12:45 AM.

Long day but totally worth it.

So this experiment worked.  I loved it! I just have to figure out how to get more clients now.  I'm on it!

I Still Have Plenty of Time Before the Trick-or-Treaters Get Here

Let me start with this: What is wrong with kids these days??

When I first found out that I got to dress up in anything I could imagine (SCORE!) and people would give me candy (DOUBLE SCORE!!), it went pretty much something like when Fez found out on That 70s show.

I went ToT-ing all through high school.  In fact, the last time I went ToT-ing, I was 24. Yes, you read that right.  I had an awesome costume and the kids I was walking with barely dressed up.  Since I deserved the candy way more than they did, I started going to the doors with them.  Absolutely one of my finest moments.  See below.

 I mean really, it would have been a shame to NOT go ToT-ing with this costume.

So, back to kids these days.  I don't know if it has something to do with relocating and it's actually Texas kids or if it has to do with the generation, but here are some of my pet peeves about ToT-ers these days/here in Texas:

1. NJ had a snow storm this weekend.  Although this is rare, I remember it being SUPER cold on Halloween.  This always put a damper on costume selection.  What's going to look good with a TON of layers underneath?  Also, it has to still look good without the layers because I have to wear it to school too.  The current temperature in Houston is 70 degrees and the sun is shining.  This is literally what I would have dreamed about when I was a kid.  It is now 5:30. No ToT-ers. LAME

Note to kids: To maximize the amount of candy, and isn't that what it's REALLY all about, the earlier you start, the more houses you hit, the more candy you get. That's just simple math.

2. Before we lived in our house in Texas, we lived in an apartment just a few miles up the road in the next town over.  My first Halloween in Houston went something like this (keep in mind I was unemployed at the time): Hubby warned me that we wouldn't get any ToT-ers. I insisted this was true of his first Halloween here because he must have been working late, and he missed them.  I bought a ton of candy and waited anxiously all day--sort of like kids do to go ToT-ing but I was just really looking forward to getting to see the kids in their costumes.  Finally at about 3:30 or so, the school bus pulled up to the front of the complex.  Our apartment was in front so I always knew when the kids were coming or going. I watched again anxiously as the kids got off the bus in their costumes.  Then I sat and waited by the door.  And then waited some more.  And then some more.  By the time Hubby came home at 6:00, not a single ToT-er came to the house and he found me alone on the couch with the candy bowl almost in tears.  I think if you could hear my heart that day it snapped something like a Kit-Kat bar.

Note to kids: Apartments are the MOTHERLOAD.  There are more doors in a smaller area.  This means MORE candy and LESS working for it. Again, SIMPLE MATH!

I was soon told that Texans do not ToT in apartments.  Apparently, the kids here are pretty snobby and don't think they'll get good enough candy slumming it in the poor apartments.  They travel to neighborhoods to get their candy.

3. Fast forward to two years later.  I was super excited for our first Halloween in our house.  We live in a beautiful big neighborhood.  I was sure this was going to be so terrific that it would make up for the last 2 years.  Halloween was a Sunday and just like this year, the weather was gorgeous.  When Halloween fell on the weekend when I was a kid, I spent most of the day begging my mother to let me start and then I'd inevitably go out early in the afternoon.  See note: the earlier you leave the more candy you get.  Each hour passed by and not a single kid. I eventually brought my candy bowl outside with me and sat on our front stoop.  Hubby yelled at me to get back in the house.  He said I was looking desperate. 

This is when I learned that kids in Texas do not ToT until after dark.  I know. I know. I sound like a broken record.  But those are precious hours that these children could have been getting FREE candy.  It's FREE. ABSOLUTELY FREE. I feel like no one told these kids this.

See last year, I made plans to go out in the evening.  I mean Halloween was on a Sunday for Pete's sake! I assumed I'd be out of candy by 4 o'clock.  I begged my friend to put her BIRTHDAY dinner on hold for an hour so I could see a couple of kids and she obliged.  I saw about five all together.  I never left the front stoop.

This year I'm not going anywhere.  Hopefully, this will be my year.  I went to Sam's Club and bought full size candy bars.  I'm hoping the word will spread and my house will be THE place to stop. 

Fingers crossed!

To Be or Not to Be... Religious, That Is

Is anyone else out there going through an identity crisis?  Be it a mid-life crisis, quarter-life crisis, teenage identity crisis.... Wow, I just realized there are a lot of times in life that you can go through an identity crisis.

Well, as you've probably figured out (either by accurately reading that last part or by reading other posts I have written), I am 28 and going through an identity crisis.  I guess it's a quarter-life (give or take) crisis.

I suspect it has a lot to do with uprooting myself from the only place I called home, New Jersey, and in turn, was one way I genuinely identified myself.  I am a Jersey Girl, through and through.  Trust me when I tell you I'm not just saying this.  I was the girl that was never going to leave.  When I told friends and family that I had made the decision to move to Texas, they weren't just sad to see me go, they were legitimately shocked that I would leave.  Sure I say, I'm a Jersey Girl misplaced, but I often have a difficult time fully grasping this concept.

The reason I bring this up today is because Hubby and I had a conversation about religion last weekend.  

Didn't see that coming, huh? So, yes, I will discuss religion in my blog.  Probably not politics as I don't feel I'm educated enough on the topic.  Any other taboos I should cover?

Religion is something I've always struggled with.  My parents never really forced me to go to church.  I was baptized and there was a stint where I attended Sunday school, but beyond that, it wasn't a big part of my upbringing.  We never even said Grace at the Christmas dinner table.  Oh, don't forget my father was raised Muslim but had pretty much abandoned it by the time I came around.

My best friend was "very Christian" and even went to a Christian school from K-12.  I dated a Jehovah's Witness in high school--something I would not recommend for a high school student unless your beliefs are the same.  And, let's be honest, I grew up in NJ so Catholicism was all around me. 

And with this all around me, I just couldn't identify myself with any of it.  In an attempt to learn as much as I could, I decided to earn a Religion minor in college.  Honestly, could there be a more fascinating academic subject?

To me, religion was supposed to be something that came from your heart.  I have faith.  I believe in a higher power.  I'm just not so sure about all the extra stuff that comes along with organized religion.  For most of Christianity, you're taught strict lists of right and wrong.  There is a list of what-to-do and what-not-to-do.  Now if you believe, you can slip up and do what's on the not-to-do list.  And as long as you feel sorry/shame because of it and give yourself entirely to your faith, all is forgiven.

I'm okay with this for some things. I can understand deserving a second chance.

What I can't understand it for are the big things.  I can't understand how rape and murder, for instance, can all be forgiven just because someone says "Whoops. Shouldn't have done that."  To me, this means someone that accepts these teachings but say, killed 10 people including children on a shooting spree gets to go to Heaven and I go to Hell.  I never committed any heinous acts.  I just questioned the religious system that's in place.  That is just too unbelievable to me.

Remember, I've grown up in a time when priests sexually abused little boys, men crashed planes into skyscrapers, and extremists have set off bombs at abortion clinics.  And all these things were in the name of their Lord.

Hubby went to a Christian school for grades 7-12.  There is a part of him that identifies with that but he doesn't always live it.  He hasn't gone to church regularly in over 10 years.  I know he feels guilty about it.

But to me that is a direct consequence of organized religion.  He doesn't just wake up Sunday morning and go.  No, he pines about it and internally struggles with it and inevitably feels guilt, even though he's living a good life in so many other ways.

We've talked on several occasions about what to do with our children.  You see, I feel completely comfortable with my beliefs for me, but I am never certain what I should do with my children.  I hate the idea of them not embracing religion because I don't and never took them.  But I also hate the idea of them essentially being brainwashed, just regurgitating things they heard at church and never actually exploring and understanding it.

Religion can be such a beautiful thing.  I truly believe that.  In my opinion, it's human nature to need something to turn to in time of crisis and religion fits that bill beautifully.  We have friends that suffered one of the most awful things I think anyone can suffer, the loss of a child.  These friends also have incredible, and what seems to be unbreakable, faith.  They had this community they could turn to in their time of need.  They truly believe this all happened as part of God's plan.  That is so good... for them.

I do believe in it's most genuine form, it's a wonderful thing.  I just really don't know where I fall into all of this.

So Hubby is considering going back to church.  But my biggest fear right now is in regards to this identity crisis I'm having.  I wouldn't want to go with him to support him and be swept away into it all because of what I'm internally struggling with.  Or vice versa, I wouldn't want to bash it and not accept anything that is said based on the fact that I'm just questioning everything right now.  I know Hubby thinks this is just a cop out and for someone that just accepts religion as is, I can't really blame him for thinking that.  But to me, I want religion and faith to be natural.  I don't want it to be a chore or something I'm guilted into. I'd like to have that beautiful relationship with it, but I can't be sure if it's just not the right time or if it's not in me at all.