Mama Mania

I'm all over the place.

Babies are all I think about.  And that initially sounds like I'm anxious for pregnancy and motherhood.  Well, calm down.  That's only part of it.  There are days I'm freaking out.  Because you know what they call us NFP folks.  Honestly, I'm a big fan of NFP.  Not only has it helped me understand my body and its patterns, but it has greatly increased my faith and trust.  To give up any plans of my own and to realize that I'm not actually in control.  God is sovereign, and He'll give me babies when He wants to!  And it shall be perfect.  But of course, I will always be growing toward this level of trust.

Anyway.

There are days of panic, because I am smack dap in the middle of a pregnancy scare.  I kid you not.  And we conveniently have neighbors whose kids scream.  All.  The.  Freaking.  Time.  Could this really potentially be my life soon?  More in the last year than ever in my life have I seen more temper tantrums, freak out sessions, and drama from humans under the age of 10. 

And to be honest, I think it's all pretty ridiculous.  I've also face palmed more in the last year ...

Not my idea of sanity. 

Then there's the fact that life isn't planned out.  I have so much more to do and see and figure out!  My dreams are lofty.  Will they die as my children are born?

Oh that age old question. 

But then.  I.  Just.  Realize. 

I have my moments of clarity in which I'm brought to tears thinking about my children.  MY children.  And I can't handle NOT being pregnant.  Because they have names already.  And ideas and techniques and theories surrounding how they'll be raised, and how much their parents (hey that's me!) will love them.  I see photos of other peoples' exploring, wondering, playing, laughing, joyful kids, and I just want photos of MY exploring, wondering, playing, laughing, joyful kids. 

Kids are obnoxious.  And I haven't yet pushed the idea out of my head that motherhood will be like 24-hour babysitting without pay.  Because yes, it's constant attentiveness and care and discipline.  But I'm coming to accept that there's so much more to it.  Midst the meal-planning and education and cleaning up vomit every 3 seconds, there's just something about raising tiny humans.  That something is more extraordinary than anything else I will do.  Of that I am convinced.

Am I ready for this?  We'll have to see if the time is now. 

My New Friendly Folk

My soul is nomming.

I go through spurts of discontentment with life.  And then I go through a spurt of confusion because I'm never bored.  Why am I anxious?  My life is full, and I enjoy the things I do.  But the discontentment came every once in a blue moon. 

It took my best friend to make me realize what I was doing.  I was filling my time instead of my soul.  What is busy-ness if you're not doing the things that make you tick? 

Two days after this realization, I start volunteering at Kanazawa Zoo.  I was unsure of how it would pan out, me definitely not being a fluent speaker of Japanese.  But my first day there, I said to myself, This is it, and finally, I'm feeding my soul.

Week #1 at the zoo, I fed a giraffe.

This lovely lady also gave me kisses and lots of long, purple tongue on my shoulders.  What a flirt.  Her name is Miruku (literally "Milk").

Week #2, I got to play with their juvenile Black Rhinoceros, Fuka (pronounced who-kah, as in I am smoking a). 

She's 1 year 3 months, and she weighs over 400 kg (almost 900 lbs).  Her skin is so tough that they have to vaccinate her behind the ear.  Also, she is adorable. 

There are 4 subspecies of Black Rhinoceros, and they're all found throughout central and southern Africa.  They're all endangered.  In fact, the Western Black Rhinoceros was declared extinct in 2011 by the IUCN.  Fuka is an Eastern Black Rhinoceros.

Week #3 was yesterday.  My husband, Curt, was going to meet me when we were done with our program, but I ran into him when we were about to see the Indian Rhinoceros, so the zookeepers brough him back too!  Their male Indian Rhinoceros is Kintaro ("Golden Boy" or "Soldier").  He's 2000 kg (~4500 lbs). 

My new favorite thing about rhinos (at least the ones I've played around with) is that they're actually pretty affectionate.  They'll lean into your touch and turn so you can "scratch" their ribs (which is actually more like slapping - their skin is so tough!).  This proved dangerous for me yesterday as Kintaro leaned into my hand and pinned it against a bar!  My fault.  Thank God for on-the-ball, strong zookeepers and protective husbands.  ;)

Latest lesson: feed your soul.  Or you'll feel what it's like to not feed your soul.  I'm learning not only how to understand what I need, but also to get what I need when things aren't perfect (i.e., living in a foreign country).  Sometimes, you just have to make it happen and let yourself rely on others to accommodate you.  Boom.  Life is good.

Japan's Next Top?

There are moments in which I feel I have obtained the utmost randomness. 

For example,

I'm registered with a modeling agency out of Tokyo called Junes.  Many Navy wives (and children) pursue modeling while they're out here.  The Japanese seem fond of blonde hair and blue eyes.  It hasn't gone anywhere, my 'modeling career' with Junes, but hey, I went to a modeling fair on base and it was fun.  So I go to auditions when I get them and 100 percent of the time end up laughing at myself afterwards. 

It's great.

My first audition with Junes was a bit of a mishap.  I didn't understand the process.  Junes has your information and some photos on file, and when a job comes up, they email everyone with the information of audition date, job date, stipend, etc.  Those who are available email back and from that pot, they pick a choice few from their photos.  Those are the ones who audition.   I got the first email, responded, and ended up going down to their offices on audition day without understanding that I was indeed not selected for an audition.  Awkward.  But they were kind and let me audition anyway. 

And they had to photograph my hands.  Dang you, enormous writing bump! 

My second audition, I was actually selected for (yay!), and it was for an underwear ad.  Yeah ... great.  I was surrounded by Russian bombshells and was the only foreigner who didn't speak Japanese.  They put me in spandex and asked me to 'emphasize the breasts'.  I think I've said enough about that one. 

Bwahaha.

My third ever modeling audition was today.  For a car commercial.  In Spain.  With a $3,500 stipend and travel expenses.  Uhm.  Hi, I'm Carrie and I have no experience but I'm going to try my darndest.  So I made my way up to Ikejiri Ohashi (eh?) and ran into a Frenchman who would be my audition partner.  We were placed in a fake car and told that we have fake children behind us and are going on a fake road trip.  Oh, and that we're fake married.  So we laughed and had fun and gawked at the fake sea we were fake driving by.  It was by far the funnest (i.e., least awkward) audition yet, but still so utterly random.  Where am I?  What am I doing?  Who are these people?  All in a day's work.

I guess when given the right avenues, my awkwardness knows no bounds.  Power to me.

Fish = Friends

I've recently caught on to Mental Floss.  I don't read all their posts, because in reality, I would have to spend my entire day doing it.  But they seem to know that there are some of us quirky animal lovers out in the world, and they cater to us just fine.  Here's one that I found to be fascinating about a vegetarian shark. 

Derp Derp

My frequency is starting to look bad.  Yikes.  But let me explain.  I was on Skype a little over a week ago, and everything froze.  Then the dreaded grey screen of death known to mac users came up. 

And she wouldn't turn back on. 

We're working it out and hoping to get my mac life back together.  But in the meantime, I'm on my hubby's PC.  I'll try to keep up, even though I'm macified. 

This piggy backs on great news - my husband is home!  Hooray!  Two months is nowhere near what military wives often have to endure, but I missed him anyway.  His homecoming was sweet; what a glorious moment to see my man in uniform walking toward me on the pier.  The moment didn't last long - my instinct when reuniting is to run and jump into a hug. 

I'm probably the most obnoxious Navy wife ;)

Anyway. 

Times are still challenging; Curt works around 12-15 hours a day, depending.  Other days, he has duty or they take short underways in Tokyo Bay to complete various evolutions.  You gotta love inspection season.  Much of my time is spent wondering when my husband will come home and, I have to admit, resenting the fact that my universe orbits his life.  But I find I'm embracing the things I need, and lately, it's to get wacky.  Monday evening, Curt anticipated getting home at 1800.  Then texted that it would be another hour or so.  But lo and behold, when he walked in the door at 2030, I had lost my mind and had been singing to various obnoxious songs.  Oh, the beauty of karaoke in your living room.  He caught me during Donna Lewis' I Love You Always Forever. 

When I left my Japanese language class at 1845 on Wednesday, I got a call that it would be a few more hours before his return.  So I biked my little self down to Home's (home accents store) and bought 6 enormous pillows for our chow table.  Not only did I refuse to use a cart (hey, I'm buff!), I refrained from being defeated by the fact that I'm a bike rider.  Thank God I had bunji cords.  I still looked ridiculous with a tower of pillows swaying on the back end of my bike. 

Oh, the joy of embracing our woes and letting them take us to places and moods we shouldn't be.  Here's to eluding our better judgment and letting the wind take our crazy selves where it may.

Livin' on a Prayer

Oi vey.

Thing are low lately.  I swore off loneliness spring semester of my sophomore year of college.  I had roommates who were never home, my best friend was abroad, and though I lived 20 minutes from my hometown, I was isolated when I was at school.  I had plenty of friends at my university, but living off-campus can dampen things, to the point of the dreaded loneliness.  I told myself I would never want to go through something like that again, and that I would do everything in my power to avoid it.

So remind me again why I married a forward-deployed sailor and moved across the ocean where I don't speak the language? 

LoL.  I actually laughed at myself today when I realized this.  The only child who can't stand being lonely (ok, I admit, who can really? But there are some self-proclaimed loners out there).  Check back in a year.  I bet you I've had a child and am DYING for some me time.  Oh Carrie Carrie Carrie ...

Today, I also realized that I am at a strange point in life.  It actually makes sense to trust God.  It's easier.  In a time when I have no idea where my life is going, when to have kids, or the opportunity for a new friend may present itself, trusting in the Lord looks pretty good.  I have little socially and professionally, and at the position I'm in, some God trust is the only thing that will keep me going. 

And I mean that.

I'm standing on a rock, and it took having little on my own to realize it. 

Pen Friends

Today, I held back some serious tears on the steps of the post office.  I should really wait to get home before I read my mail. 

Backstory.  Over a year ago, I stumbled on a Facebook page for a death row inmate.  I knew I couldn’t do much to clear his name (other than sign a petition and pass it on), so I decided to write him.  Little did I know that when they executed him in March, I would actually grieve  someone I never met, but definitely knew. 

After his death, I felt compelled.  Prison is a world that we don’t really understand or see.  Or really even think about.  It’s an interesting realm for films, but that’s really as far as we take it.  So I didn’t even know if there was any sort of database that helped people write letters to those who are incarcerated. 

I was wrong.  All you have to do is Google. 

I searched and searched through dozens of names to pick out 5 that stood out to me.  I was reluctant on one guy, and only God knows why I was so picky, but I wrote him anyway.  Today I got his first response.  And it was the most heartfelt response I’ve had yet.  Heartfelt and heart breaking.  He’s on death row (that right there told me this wouldn’t be easy).  He lives in solitary confinement.  Has for the past 14 years.  He almost mentioned the “hole.”  He spent 8 months there for getting caught with a cell phone. 

Oooooo k. 

On my ride home, I just felt like I was keeping this to myself.  I love writing letters; I love mail!  So this is something that is simple for me.  Maybe you like mail too.  Give it a try, and write someone.  You might be surprised the kind of characters you find. 

[They ask that you refrain if you are under 18, so I ask that you honor that if you’re a young’n!]