I had my first counseling appointment. And it was fantastic. Highly recommend counseling for anyone and everyone who is interested in themselves and how they tick. Even if there's nothing wrong, doesn't hurt to find out more about yourself. We're talking peace here people! $22 bucks a pop and I am all over that like sugar on candy.
I would most definitely suggest taking a list with you, though. A list of questions/concerns you have about yourself. That way when the poor counselor looks at you and asks, "What seems to be the trouble?" You don't just look down at your hands and think quietly to yourself, "Well, I am a little broken. Can't you see?" You look them square in the eye and you say, "I am feeling really stressed out. And it started when..." And you relive your stressful story and you cry a little because it's a little tender piece of you that you've kept inside and protected for so long. Carrying on with a bright smile and falling apart behind closed doors. And then she says, "I understand. That is quite the burden." And you start to cry again, because you never thought someone would agree with you. That yes, it is hard, but I am girl of resilience and I was going to keep pushing on. But she says, "I am so glad you came. Let's figure this out together." And you learn stuff about yourself that you never considered, even though, deep down, you probably knew it. It just took a second voice and a little set-apart time to allow myself to think about it. And then my idea of how I thought everything should be was popped. And relieving tears came when I was allowed to not be so hard on myself. When her gentle words said, "That is hard. Don't make is so hard. Try this instead." And I did. And it's fine, but more problems have bubbled up where the ugly head of a problem had been biting. And I have them written down for my next session. And I wonder if this cleansing process is going to be solved in a series of four sessions or if I am always going to be finding more questions about myself. And maybe I will need a standing monthly appointment to get myself sorted and figured out enough to do the things that I love.
I feel like it's a deep cleansing. How, maybe, if I scrape away enough layers, I can take away that semester of 21 credits where I got straight As with one C. Ridiculous teacher that nearly gave me a heart-attack every time I went to class because of her high energy. Maybe I can peel back all those boyfriends. Scrape off that year and a half where I was working 30 hours a week and trying to balance 18 credits while living the college life. Sand away until I am left with me. Writing the way I love. Reading books. Scrap booking. Helping. Loving with all I have. That girl is somewhere inside me and I want her back. I am taking her back. Maybe it will take 4 sessions of counseling to heal my broken and pinned wings, maybe a few more to strengthen the muscles to fly. I am ready, with my list, of things that need to be polished to leave me strong.
Friday, October 18, 2013
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Our Saturday Weekend
Handsome Husband does not often get a Saturday off. We have had three Saturdays off since we moved here in March. It is now October. But when he does get Saturday off, the nice guys at Les Schwab make sure he gets a Monday off, as well, and all of a sudden we have a three days weekend! Which requires doing something 'big' and 'awesome'.
This three day weekend we took a trip to Seattle. I was assigned to teach young womens that Sunday and since it was the last lesson of the month I didn't feel like I could ask someone to trade me and have to take a rain check for it. Our three day vacation turned into a two day vacation with a little weekend snuck in there.
Saturday brought the sauerkraut festival and a stake temple day. I HAD to go to the sauerkraut festival and I knew that Handsome Husband and I should be making that trip to the temple. And not just a trip, but the trip that would put us there in the chapel to hear the special words that were intended for our stake at the appointed time. It was an emotional thing for me, as last-minute plans and changing plans have become something really hard for me to handle, but it was arranged for us to be there.
Generally, we don't take pen and paper in with us, but I felt if I were to be somewhere hearing a few messages I should take special note of them. I also took the time to make special note of the feelings I had felt and the things I had thought.
1) The temple will bless our families. Not just by being sealed for all eternity, but as we serve in the temple, our families and dear ones will be blessed. The angels will be near to raise them up and guard them.
2) Why are we taught from such a young age to look towards the temple? Why is it such a pulling force? Because the Lord has chosen someone to work in His place and be His mouthpiece. The gospel has been restored. This is the essence. To do the work of eternity.
We had stopped by the sauerkraut festival on the way into Portland and had taken the time to look around. I do love a good festival and the sauerkraut bratworst was the best ever! Next year I may be brave enough to try the sauerkraut icecream, but not this time. Alaska rode in her stroller, pointing out each dog we passed and saying, "dog, dog, dog, dog..." until we replied, "Yes, that is a dog."
Saturday night I prepared my lesson, which was a new step for me. I am more of the, 'prepare a lesson the morning of' kind of girl. This whole being 25 years old thing is really working out for me. Making me quite the responsible person. I love teaching the young women. I just love, love it. And instead of being nervous, I get excited. I love them so much and it makes it easy to teach.
Sunday we packed our bags in a hurry, stuffed everything in the car around the jogging stroller and pack 'n' play and set off for Seattle.
This three day weekend we took a trip to Seattle. I was assigned to teach young womens that Sunday and since it was the last lesson of the month I didn't feel like I could ask someone to trade me and have to take a rain check for it. Our three day vacation turned into a two day vacation with a little weekend snuck in there.
Saturday brought the sauerkraut festival and a stake temple day. I HAD to go to the sauerkraut festival and I knew that Handsome Husband and I should be making that trip to the temple. And not just a trip, but the trip that would put us there in the chapel to hear the special words that were intended for our stake at the appointed time. It was an emotional thing for me, as last-minute plans and changing plans have become something really hard for me to handle, but it was arranged for us to be there.
Generally, we don't take pen and paper in with us, but I felt if I were to be somewhere hearing a few messages I should take special note of them. I also took the time to make special note of the feelings I had felt and the things I had thought.
1) The temple will bless our families. Not just by being sealed for all eternity, but as we serve in the temple, our families and dear ones will be blessed. The angels will be near to raise them up and guard them.
2) Why are we taught from such a young age to look towards the temple? Why is it such a pulling force? Because the Lord has chosen someone to work in His place and be His mouthpiece. The gospel has been restored. This is the essence. To do the work of eternity.
We had stopped by the sauerkraut festival on the way into Portland and had taken the time to look around. I do love a good festival and the sauerkraut bratworst was the best ever! Next year I may be brave enough to try the sauerkraut icecream, but not this time. Alaska rode in her stroller, pointing out each dog we passed and saying, "dog, dog, dog, dog..." until we replied, "Yes, that is a dog."
Saturday night I prepared my lesson, which was a new step for me. I am more of the, 'prepare a lesson the morning of' kind of girl. This whole being 25 years old thing is really working out for me. Making me quite the responsible person. I love teaching the young women. I just love, love it. And instead of being nervous, I get excited. I love them so much and it makes it easy to teach.
Sunday we packed our bags in a hurry, stuffed everything in the car around the jogging stroller and pack 'n' play and set off for Seattle.
Monday, September 30, 2013
It's Raining, It's Pouring
The past two days have been nothing but rain. You think I kid. I do not. I have been watching for a break so that perhaps I could start a 60 min. walk dry, even if I couldn't finish it dry. No such luck. True Oregon rain all through the morning, the afternoon, and on through the evening. I had forgotten. Spoiled by Utah autumns where the leaves crunch beneath your feet the whole season long. Where your never have to worry about your riding boots having wet toes and never think to yourself, maybe I should trade these riding boots in for some rain boots so that I can go grocery shopping.
This morning, as soon as were up, it wasn't raining and I bundled Alaska into her coats and socks and shoes with a blankie. We set out at a jog and slowed to a walk as I got a pain in my side. The sun was hiding behind a couple of soggy clouds, but it was dry. And my dry, I mean there was no rain falling from the sky. There were definitely enough puddles to keep the most ruthless of puddle-jumpers happy for five hours. The long grasses of summer were beaten down, having succumbed to the constant pressure on their long stems. Trees jangled and tipped a leaf's amount of water onto Alaska and I as we passed under their branches. Leaves scattered parking lots and tripped on the sidewalk. The rain had pulled them down to earth where they would find their mortal fate.
We were 15 minutes from the house when the rain started up again and I began a slow jog, pulling the umbrella over Alaska's torso. We had been in worse, that's for sure. Just the week before we had slipped into the store real quick on our way home from a walk to pick up a few items and we came out to a full on rain storm. There was congestion at the sliding doors as everyone who had just checked out came to a halt at the sight of the rain that was not there when we all went in. It was a mess as they put on jackets, pulled up hoods and located their car from the covered entry, calculating the most direct cut.
And there was me and Alaska. I take the stroller into the store with me when we're coming back from a walk because it's less transitioning and my stroller has way better steerage than any cart I have pushed, which means we're in and out faster as I glide past carts blocking isles as they search for the perfect cake mix. I was wearing my t-shirt and shorts, 'cause it has been a nice day, and she was in jeans and long sleeves. We took a deep breath and in we went, jogging hard. 10 minutes to the front door and we had to cross the highway that always has the longest lights. Biggest blessing, I pushed the button for the light to cross, and it lit up, allowing us to barely pause at a light that we usually spend 3 minutes at.
The high school was out for lunch and the teachers were standing at the cross-walk, in their slacks and leather shoes, to deter the underclassmen. Sharing jokes under umbrellas I knew I wasn't going to pass them without a comment. "Well! What are you doing out here in the rain?" me, "We got caught" them, "Sure did. You're doing great." Not as painful as I had thought it may have been. I gave a little wave and we were almost home.
I don't mind being caught in the rain as much as the idea is uncomfortable. It's just a hassle to get a shower with all your clothes on, and running shoes. I think it's time I start doing early-morning water-aerobics again. My first friends in St. Helens were the little, crinkly ladies who show up at the pool at 5:45 am each morning for their exercise and I haven't seen them since summer started. It was easier for me to go on a walk then to get to the pool at 5:30 in the morning. I do believe the reverse has come this past week.
Pour on, rain. I've got a swim suit.
This morning, as soon as were up, it wasn't raining and I bundled Alaska into her coats and socks and shoes with a blankie. We set out at a jog and slowed to a walk as I got a pain in my side. The sun was hiding behind a couple of soggy clouds, but it was dry. And my dry, I mean there was no rain falling from the sky. There were definitely enough puddles to keep the most ruthless of puddle-jumpers happy for five hours. The long grasses of summer were beaten down, having succumbed to the constant pressure on their long stems. Trees jangled and tipped a leaf's amount of water onto Alaska and I as we passed under their branches. Leaves scattered parking lots and tripped on the sidewalk. The rain had pulled them down to earth where they would find their mortal fate.
We were 15 minutes from the house when the rain started up again and I began a slow jog, pulling the umbrella over Alaska's torso. We had been in worse, that's for sure. Just the week before we had slipped into the store real quick on our way home from a walk to pick up a few items and we came out to a full on rain storm. There was congestion at the sliding doors as everyone who had just checked out came to a halt at the sight of the rain that was not there when we all went in. It was a mess as they put on jackets, pulled up hoods and located their car from the covered entry, calculating the most direct cut.
And there was me and Alaska. I take the stroller into the store with me when we're coming back from a walk because it's less transitioning and my stroller has way better steerage than any cart I have pushed, which means we're in and out faster as I glide past carts blocking isles as they search for the perfect cake mix. I was wearing my t-shirt and shorts, 'cause it has been a nice day, and she was in jeans and long sleeves. We took a deep breath and in we went, jogging hard. 10 minutes to the front door and we had to cross the highway that always has the longest lights. Biggest blessing, I pushed the button for the light to cross, and it lit up, allowing us to barely pause at a light that we usually spend 3 minutes at.
The high school was out for lunch and the teachers were standing at the cross-walk, in their slacks and leather shoes, to deter the underclassmen. Sharing jokes under umbrellas I knew I wasn't going to pass them without a comment. "Well! What are you doing out here in the rain?" me, "We got caught" them, "Sure did. You're doing great." Not as painful as I had thought it may have been. I gave a little wave and we were almost home.
I don't mind being caught in the rain as much as the idea is uncomfortable. It's just a hassle to get a shower with all your clothes on, and running shoes. I think it's time I start doing early-morning water-aerobics again. My first friends in St. Helens were the little, crinkly ladies who show up at the pool at 5:45 am each morning for their exercise and I haven't seen them since summer started. It was easier for me to go on a walk then to get to the pool at 5:30 in the morning. I do believe the reverse has come this past week.
Pour on, rain. I've got a swim suit.
Friday, September 27, 2013
The Bloggess
Ok. For real guys. I just found this blog and it is the most hillarious thing to have ever happened to me. Have you ever seen me laugh so hard I cry? No. Me either. But I totally just did. Twice.
Check this out. But don't check it out if offensive language offends you. Nope. Don't. But if you don't mind too much and need a good, hard laugh... you can thank me later.
http://thebloggess.com Entry on Sept 17, 2013
But that's not what this is about. This about me. And a phone. I hate punching in the numbers to listen to voicemails. So I don't. And when my mailbox is full, I like to keep it that way as long as possible so that it is impossible for people to leave messages. Phones are for texting, not for talking, unless there's an emergency. Like I forgot about visiting teaching. Then I need a phone call to remind me of places to be and things to do. E-mail, facebook, texting... there are so many ways to get a hold of a person.
This is an entry by the bloggess, edited for your viewing pleasure. And I thought I would share since it's something I can so totally relate to.
Check this out. But don't check it out if offensive language offends you. Nope. Don't. But if you don't mind too much and need a good, hard laugh... you can thank me later.
http://thebloggess.com Entry on Sept 17, 2013
But that's not what this is about. This about me. And a phone. I hate punching in the numbers to listen to voicemails. So I don't. And when my mailbox is full, I like to keep it that way as long as possible so that it is impossible for people to leave messages. Phones are for texting, not for talking, unless there's an emergency. Like I forgot about visiting teaching. Then I need a phone call to remind me of places to be and things to do. E-mail, facebook, texting... there are so many ways to get a hold of a person.
This is an entry by the bloggess, edited for your viewing pleasure. And I thought I would share since it's something I can so totally relate to.
A series of voicemail messages I listened to a year and a half after they were sent because I don’t know how my phone works:
Yvonne: Argh. This lady at the drugstore just coughed H1N1 all over my daughter. Call me in 4 months when you actually get this. I’m sure we’ll still be friends then. Probably.
me (leaving myself a message when I couldn’t find my journal to write in): Why don’t people use “let’c” as a contraction for “lettuce”? It would save time. This is me, by the way. Not future-me though. Just regular me. Hope we’re doing well.
My sister: Hey, someone in our family died but I’m not telling you over voicemail because that would be weird. But you’re never going to get this because you never listen to your voicemails. It’s like I’m sending a time-capsule into space that no one will ever find. I though you were supposed to be the responsible one.
My sister again: It’s mom’s birthday today. I’m calling to remind you. You owe me.
me again: Hi. This is just me pretending to be on the phone so that I don’t have to make eye contact with the crazy lady on Main who’s always talking to herself. Except that technically I’m calling myself to leave myself a message so I’m basically doing the same thing. I bet this is just how the crazy lady got started.
My sister again: It’s daddy’s birthday today. I’m calling because you said that I didn’t remind you about mom’s birthday even though I totally did. Does this phone even work?
My sister again: Hey, did you know it’s your birthday? My guess is “no” since I didn’t remind you.
me (leaving a message to myself again): If dead people want to wear open toed shoes in their caskets do the morticians give them a pedicure or are you just stuck with however your feet looked when you die? Do you have to pay extra for the death pedicure? I should get a tattoo on my chest that says “Put me in feetie-pajamas when I die”. That way I’m warm and I’m saving money.
me again: Okay, I just remembered that I don’t have any feetie-pajamas and it would suck if right before I died I ballooned up to like 500 pounds and Hailey was all “HER DYING WISH WAS TO HAVE FEETIE PAJAMAS” but they can’t find any in my size and so she spends all her time looking for enormous feetie-pajamas when she should just be taking care of herself. Now I’m all depressed. Forget the tattoo. The tattoo was a terrible idea.
Victor: WHY DON’T YOU EVER ANSWER YOUR PHONE?
me (leaving a message to myself again): I was calling to remind you to write something funny about birds but then I got distracted by my own voice on the answering machine and now I don’t remember what I was going to say. It was about birds, I think…? I lost it. Way to go, us.
my sister again: It’s mom’s birthday today. Honestly, I don’t even know why I try.
Laura: Okay, why do you even have a phone?
Coast into September
We still talk about it. That one day. That super hot day. The day of all summer days. And it wasn't even summer. School had already started the week before.
It was a Wednesday and I had decided the previous Sunday that Alaska and I would be at the coast on Wednesday. I had it all figured out. We would need to leave in the morning in order to beat the heat since our little car has no a/c and then come home in the evening with just enough time to shower off summer sand before going to mutual at seven. It was 9:30 when we pulled out of our apartment complex and I turned up the country, settling in for a long drive.
We made a few stops, one in Rainier to pick up some sand toys, which they didn't have any of, so I got a couple of metal spoons to dig in the sand with and as an after-thought a package of fruit snacks. We had crackers and applesauce and waters and juices. We were going to be ok.
Stopped at a used furniture store on our way through Astoria. I am always on the hunt for a china cabinet that will fit into our over-sized bathroom to store towels and miscellaneous bathroom items. And I found one. For $250. Much out of my price range. Especially since it would need a nice coat of paint to update itself. Passed it by and we headed onto Seaside.
Usually we stop at Del Ray as our beach of choice because it is less crowded than Seaside. Today, though, I wanted to be around some people. And have a back-up plan of the seaside aquarium if Alaska got tired of the ocean before it was time to go. I shouldn't have worried.
We took our time parking, taking the luxury to find just the right spot. I loaded up our jogging stroller and thought to myself, "Next time, we'll have to bring a wagon" First we'll have to get a wagon. I watched two mommas carry umbrella strollers down the steps that lead to the sand and may have smiled to myself when they pushed to go forward and their itty bitty stroller wheels dug into the sand, not turning at all. Their surprised faces were priceless and then they giggled nervously to themselves. I could see their minds turning, "How are we going to get closer to the water? I have a baby, a bag, and a stroller to now carry. Ooof.
There was no way I was taking my stroller down those steps, there had to be a way around. And there was. Which led straight to a couple of swings. Alaska swung to her heart's content, always asking 'more' in sign each time the swing went slower than a push from an under-doggie. That girl loves a good thrill. We stopped by the bathrooms real quick and then made our way down to the water.
Spreading out our blanket on the sand, I changed Alaska into her swim suit. We took pictures and ran out in the waves. That girl loves the water and we spent two hours galloping in the waves before coming out for snacks. There were lots of grandmas and grandpas out walking their dogs, and Alaska noticed every single one of them. While we were eating goldfish crackers Alaska couldn't help but notice and be amazed at how close the ducks (read: seagulls) got to our blanket. She chased them around and enjoyed her time drying off. We had one more hour in the water before the wind picked up and I called it quits. We changed and made our way back to the car after stopping by the swings again. Having a swing open to use on both the way to the water and on the way back from the water goes to show how many people were not at the beach. It was so nice to have it to ourselves.
We stopped in Gearhart to look through a home junk store and had dinner right next door at the burger place that sold malts and had battered fries. It was delicious. Alaska slept the rest of the way home and we got back just in time to take baths and get over to the church to help lay out bark chips. It was so refreshing to come from the coast where we had been cool all day and be outside in the left-over heat of the day. It was perfect. And I am so glad that I got to spend it with my punk-a-bunk. She is so absolutely my favorite to hang out with. I want to keep hold of that.
Thursday, September 26, 2013
Where We're Supposed to Be on Sunday
Today we had our first major melt-down at church. Alaska was having a hard time keeping quiet, aka, whimpering and whining and nothing could be done to make her stop. Not even fruit snacks. The ultimate measuring stick of unfixable unhappiness. Handsome Husband took her out to the foyer where she screamed and cried for 15 minutes until he took her home to bed. I guess she kept crying, "Momma." and wanted to go back into sacrament meeting. Which is good. We've had to take her out less times than I can count on my hand because we do whatever it takes to keep her quiet and in our pew. I want her to know that sacrament meeting is where she needs to be and it's a time to be reverent. Today's episode has confirmed we have succeeded. The little fact that she wanted to be back where she knows she's supposed to be instead of roaming the halls. Made my heart smile.
Columbia County Fair: July
I love farmers' markets. I love festivals. But I love fairs the most.
I love looking at the animals and eating the food.
I knew Alaska wouldn't last forever, so when we went to the fair we made sure to see the animals first. She aid moo when we saw the cows and "dog" when we saw the goats. She loved the bunnies and it filled my heart with joy as I lead her up and down the isles of cages, her little eyes looking at each. I've yet to find someone who loves looking at bunnies as much as I do, she followed me close behind and looked at each and every one, where as I am so used to Steven pulling me through, suggesting that every bunny looks the same. Alaska was a faithful follower and didn't mind that there was a whole row of bunnies with the same colors and markings.
Walking down the isles in the swine barn, the pigs snorted at her through the bars and she was not impressed. She stepped away and gave them the, "who do you think you are" look. However, her side-step from one side where the pigs were sticking their noses into the isles swiftly took her to the other side of the isle where another snout just about brushed her arm. She got her, "I am so freaked out right now" face on and took a couple of quick steps forward to get away. I was so proud of her though, for taking care of the problem on her own instead of reaching backwards to me, to pick her up.
Meandering through the pictures and quilts and photos I noticed much of what was at the fair was entered by kids, and perhaps that's the way it ought to be. A way for kids to showcase what they are interested in and working on and proud to share.
I hunted down my curly fries like a mountain lion hunting a jackrabbit. I had searched all the fairs over in Utah for two summers trying to find them. Utah always slices their potatoes too thin and it created potato chips instead of curly french fries. I took my own ketchup bottle and hauled it around in the stroller so that I didn't have to depend on the fair's ketchup supply that always seems to be low and ridden with germs.
Another thing Utah does is they call their elephant ears 'scones' and serve them with honeybutter instead of the traditional powdered or cinnamon sugar. And you know? Sadly I had gotten so used to that, that I missed the honey butter as I chomped into my deep-fried dough of yummy goodness covered in cinnamon sugar.
I had my first hand-dipped corn dog. Not much to talk about. I didn't realize it would be so soft. I prefer my corndogs from the roaster at the local mini-mart where they have been rotating in circles for 5 hours, creating the perfect shell around a juicy dog. Next year I will skip that and go for the Philippino food. It looked so tasty. Almost worth the $8 fair entry fee again the next day just to eat dinner there.
Finished the night off with some carnival rides and I think, perhaps, my awesome dream of finally having Alaska to go on rides with (Steve gets sick) may have been crushed. I didn't feel so good after the first two and never got quite back to feeling right until I got home. I may have just outgrown carnival rides. Which makes me super sad, because Alaska will never have the cool momma that takes her on all the rides in the evening when everything is lit up. She'll have to go with her friends like the rest of them.
I love looking at the animals and eating the food.
I knew Alaska wouldn't last forever, so when we went to the fair we made sure to see the animals first. She aid moo when we saw the cows and "dog" when we saw the goats. She loved the bunnies and it filled my heart with joy as I lead her up and down the isles of cages, her little eyes looking at each. I've yet to find someone who loves looking at bunnies as much as I do, she followed me close behind and looked at each and every one, where as I am so used to Steven pulling me through, suggesting that every bunny looks the same. Alaska was a faithful follower and didn't mind that there was a whole row of bunnies with the same colors and markings.
Walking down the isles in the swine barn, the pigs snorted at her through the bars and she was not impressed. She stepped away and gave them the, "who do you think you are" look. However, her side-step from one side where the pigs were sticking their noses into the isles swiftly took her to the other side of the isle where another snout just about brushed her arm. She got her, "I am so freaked out right now" face on and took a couple of quick steps forward to get away. I was so proud of her though, for taking care of the problem on her own instead of reaching backwards to me, to pick her up.
Meandering through the pictures and quilts and photos I noticed much of what was at the fair was entered by kids, and perhaps that's the way it ought to be. A way for kids to showcase what they are interested in and working on and proud to share.
I hunted down my curly fries like a mountain lion hunting a jackrabbit. I had searched all the fairs over in Utah for two summers trying to find them. Utah always slices their potatoes too thin and it created potato chips instead of curly french fries. I took my own ketchup bottle and hauled it around in the stroller so that I didn't have to depend on the fair's ketchup supply that always seems to be low and ridden with germs.
Another thing Utah does is they call their elephant ears 'scones' and serve them with honeybutter instead of the traditional powdered or cinnamon sugar. And you know? Sadly I had gotten so used to that, that I missed the honey butter as I chomped into my deep-fried dough of yummy goodness covered in cinnamon sugar.
I had my first hand-dipped corn dog. Not much to talk about. I didn't realize it would be so soft. I prefer my corndogs from the roaster at the local mini-mart where they have been rotating in circles for 5 hours, creating the perfect shell around a juicy dog. Next year I will skip that and go for the Philippino food. It looked so tasty. Almost worth the $8 fair entry fee again the next day just to eat dinner there.
Finished the night off with some carnival rides and I think, perhaps, my awesome dream of finally having Alaska to go on rides with (Steve gets sick) may have been crushed. I didn't feel so good after the first two and never got quite back to feeling right until I got home. I may have just outgrown carnival rides. Which makes me super sad, because Alaska will never have the cool momma that takes her on all the rides in the evening when everything is lit up. She'll have to go with her friends like the rest of them.
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