Monday, September 29, 2014

The Nerd Side #0


Today I have decided to talk a little bit about some of my more nerd related thoughts!  This is the Nerd Love Story, and while it has been pretty heavy on the "love story" part, it's been a little lacking on the "nerd" side of things.  Which is my job.  So I will be waxing eloquent for a few paragraphs to nerd this blog up a bit!

For those of you who do not know me I am a comic book fanatic.  I started reading them after my twelfth birthday.   The first comic I ever read was a re-print of the Amazing Fantasy #13--this was the first appearance of Spider-Man, created by Stan Lee. I LOVED this comic.   It is also the engine that helped propel me into nerdom.

For me, the last more-than-a-decade of years have been amazing with all of the comic book movies being released, starting in 2000 with X-Men and most recently this year Guardians of the Galaxy.  I have at times been impressed and at times let down HARD (cough, Daredevil).  However, there is one thing that always happens without fail:  whenever a brand new Marvel movie comes out, my phone is blown up with questions about said movie.  Basically, a lot of my friends and family have no idea what is going on with certain characters and/or story lines (because they didn't read the Marvel encyclopedia on the toilet several times, it's a great place for learnin').   Pretty much I am going to be putting out there some of the lesser know facts about the recent movies, as well as going over my own theories for where it is all going.

So, from here on out I will try to do one (or perhaps two) topics a week, just sort of questions that I'm asked or predictions that cross my kind.  For anyone that is following the blog already, if you have a topic you want me to cover just throw it down in the comments below!

Welcome to The Nerd Side.  Word.

Sunday, September 21, 2014

The Most Random, Babbling Post About Making a Home You'll Ever Read

Yeah, so basically at some point... I will finish the seventh day of my seven days of gratitude.  Yep.  It'll happen.  I think this is the third weekend that I've laid down in bed and been like, "Hmm, yeah, should probably do that.  Sunday's a great day to do that!"  Uh, yeah.  Hasn't happened.  At some point it will.  I think.  We'll see, I suppose.

Our home hunt is to the slowest, deadest pace ever.  It's fair to say that we're keeping our eyes wide open, but we don't think the home we're supposed to be in will come around for a little while.  Our new "deadline"-ish plan is before next August.  WE HOPE.  We really, really hope we can find somewhere before then.  But we have faith.  Even in just the last month since the townhome fell through we've been shown multiple ways we were needed right where we are, things that could not have been accomplished if we have moved.  So again, faith.  There's a purpose.  We know that.

With that realization, for a long time I haven't been willing to really hang anything up or decorate anything or really home-ify anything in my parent's basement, mostly in the hope that we'd be finding our home faster than we thought.  Continuing to be unsure of long we're going to be here I've decided to finally allow myself to make a home here because, what the heck, why haven't I?  I think some sort of superstition in my mind was saying, "As soon as you make it all homey, then you'll curse yourself to live in your parent's basement.  FOR FOREVER."  True story, this is pretty much the best way to sum up my thought process.  I truly was like, "Dude, can't get comfortable."

But, we are comfortable.  Is it weird, that being the worst part of it all?  That there's literally nothing awful about living with my parents other than being semi-selfish-son-of-a-guns and basically just asking for more?  That's so weird.  I think it's weird.  Brad and I have agreed that it's weird.  It should be hard, right?  To live in someone's basement?  Your parent's basement?  It should be rough, yeah?  It's not for us.  It's super nice.  And we're over here being upset at the fact that we literally have no reason to move.  At all.  Nothing to barter with to say, "Oh my gosh, we need a house now."  Because we don't.  We can wait.  There's nothing rushing us.  It's all crazy, basically.  I'm babbling.  Let's move on.

So, we're comfortable.  This is home.  It should be treated as such.

When we were first married, Brad and I volunteered to clean the Oquirrh Temple.  We were assigned to clean up the laundry room.  The funniest part about cleaning the temple is that it's so flippin' clean to begin with.  So we're like, "Uh, okay.  What do we do?"  So we're sweeping and wiping things down, and seriously there's a place for everything in those laundry rooms.  Big, beautiful, full of white linens.  Functional, gorgeous.  I had never seen function, cleanliness, and organization so beautifully put together.  I've always wanted a home like that.  I've realized that not allowing myself to make what is truly a temporary home still home has hindered my ability to make that happen.

The other week we deep cleaned for a pool party I was hosting for my Activity Days girls and their dads.  I needed to clean all of our rooms just in case the girls or their dads wanted to change in the house before going home (none of them did).  After it was all over, I was immediately thinking, "Holy crud, I don't want to do that again."  So each day I've been working to make that happen.  At the end of each day, I pick things up.  I try and make sure that when I leave a room, it's a little cleaner than I left it, or at least not dirtier.  The house isn't perfect, but it's clean.  For some reason, the little day-by-day effort to keep it clean has allowed me to allow myself to accept that it's home, and how awesome that is.

Having a home is treating it how you want it to be treated.  I don't mind non-perfection.  I'm not huge on random chochkies and doodads (these are legitimate words, I swear).  I love putting things up that mean something, or I'm okay just leaving a space blank until I find a function for it.  I've finally realized how I want George's room to function and I've been working on that, working on putting up things that matter to George (which means wheels and The Legend of Zelda and blue; seriously, it does).

Our basement kitchen is a high-traffic area.  I prefer to get ready in there because I like the natural light, and we like to get ready in there because our bathroom is connected to George's room, so the kitchen we don't have to worry as much about being quiet.  The kitchen is where we give George his baths and prep his whole nighttime ritual.  Basically, we had a lot of crap hanging around the kitchen.  So, I pulled out some metal tins I bought on mega-clearance last Christmas and I slapped some chalkboard labels from the Dollar Store on them and tried it out.  And hey, it functions.  I like it.  We're keeping this system.  It's nice, everything has a place, every thing has become so easy to find and put back.  And hey, it looks nicer!  But overall, it makes this home, because things are finding a place.  I'm working with what we have and I'm building a system.  FINALLY.



The best thing I did this week is I finally completed a project that's I've been putting together for a while, but that's been in my head for even longer.  I purchased this pallet of random frames at an auction for like $35 maybe two years ago.  It was mainly for thing gorgeous, ornate, empty frame (that I have yet to find a use for, cough, cough), so everything else was sort of a freebie/bonus.  Most of the frames are slightly damaged, including a giant 30x40 that had a butt ugly piece of artwork in it (seriously, just epicly terrifying).  I had a plan to make a family collage of sorts in it since I got it.  And, this week, I finally finished it, printed it, and hung it up, and it's awesome the impact it has.

The greatest surprise I got from it is just how much George loves to stop and look at it every day.  He'll ask to be picked up to look at it together.  This is mostly a vanity thing for him, but he likes to point out Mom and Dad from time-to-time, so that's nice of him.  Pretty much I just never realized how much of an effect having simply a picture of yourself hanging on a wall can make a place home.  Even George felt it.  It made him happy.  It makes me happy to walk by that giant thing (seriously, just giant; each picture within the collage is over 6x8, that thing is monster) and to see my little family in a few of our favorite photos.





It made me feel stupid for keeping myself from doing this sooner.  There's just something about making your mark on your home through pictures and creating function and organizing based around how your life runs there.  However temporary that home may be, it's still home.  We've been here for two and a half years now, and it's time to allow it to be home.

Sunday, September 14, 2014

George at One Year, Part Three

This kid loves swimming.  So much.  The funniest part is that George seriously believes that he can swim on his own and gets upset at us when we don't allow him to swim around.  But yeah, he totally cannot swim.  He sinks.  Trust us.

George has become quite the Mocking Jay.  (Ha, Hunger Games reference.  High five.)  He'll just randomly mimic our noises or words.  And, in true parent fashion, we freak out and gush every time he does it.  It's just SO CUTE.  It literally makes our day each time it happens.  And then we talk about it for the next three days or so.





George says, "bed time", "kitty", basically all of the colors, "Brandon", "baby", "bed time", "bum change", among many others.  He still says "grandpa", "blue", "Mom", and "Dad" the most.

Pulling himself up even more than usual and getting more and more daring about it.  Yeah, um, yikes.  Like the roll-out garbage can, people's legs, any and every precarious object...

He can go down the stairs... but only two steps.  That's his limit, apparently.





George is understanding and taking direction, which I guess he's done for a while, but I just starting noticing it more because more and more my direction is to keep him from killing himself, hahaha!  Yep.  "George, can I have that, please?" is a big one to get stuff out of his mouth.  He ate a piece of vinyl this morning (August 16), true story.

Each time George sees his reflection he stops and has to wave and flirt with himself.  Once he figures out that it's him, he has to find something, crawl back to the mirror, and watch himself playing with/using said object.  It's pretty hilarious.

George randomly decided to hate bed time, which was lame.  He's always been great about laying in his bed; even if he doesn't fall asleep, he's still happy most of the time until he does fall asleep.  This month had him freaking out once he figured out Brad or I wasn't in the room.  Awkward.  Luckily we've smoothed it over and he's back to sleeping and far less boobing about the fact that Mom and Dad don't want to hang out with him at 3:00 AM.  George, trust me, there's no one I'd enjoy spending time with at the butt-crack of dawn.  This is not an insult specifically against you.





He's developed this weird mini-temper-tantrum thing lately.  Basically it looks like his constipated, vocally grunting and clenching his fists while his face goes red.  He'll do this for a split second before gasping for air.  It's sort of hilarious.  But also, you know, sort of like, "What the heck, dude?  What's with the tantrum?"

George is a climber, but not in the most logical sense.  He basically tries to climb everything that he shouldn't and that's also dangerous.  Especially the fireplace mantel-area, which is rock-hard concrete and has no-where to move around so I have no idea why it's attractive.





More and more George understands what we're saying and it's pretty freaking cool.  I can ask him, "Can I see that?" and he'll hand me what he's got.  This works most of the time when he's put something in his mouth, but sometimes he's determined to eat the piece of paper he's put in there and he'll run away.  Again, super funny... but also, "What the heck, dude?"

Often when George crawls and he's ready to do it at full speed he'll literally put his head down like he's a charging rhino or something and then he'll just zoom forward... without looking where he's going.  He'll often trip himself or almost run into people or walls.  He'll literally face plant from excitedly crawl-charging like this.