I hate to say "I told you so"....

Wow, it's been a while, a looooonnng while, since I last posted. I must do better!

It has been a crazy month. At the end of January, I went to Florida for a work conference. A good experience, but a little disappointing. I have since come to realize that I have a stress-free job, so I should enjoy it and let the small stuff go. Now that I have adjusted to the new "demands" of my job, I have a little more brain time for blogging.

I read a great book in February. It is called "The Shack". You may have heard about it. It's about a father whose youngest child is murdered and his experience with God several years later. I won't bore you with a plot synopsis, but I can say that the book changed me. I have always been a skeptic in regards to religion, and I still am. But this book spoke to me. I won't be converted, but I feel more open to possibilities. If I can't at least acknowledge the possibility of God and Jesus, then I am denying a possible relationship and I think that is destructive. I do believe that God knows my heart, so I am comfortable with talking to God about my doubts, fears and desire for justice. I ask for help every day.

I have had some semi-serious health problems over the last two months. One chronic problem and several temporary problems. To deal with my chronic problem, I must lose weight and go through short-term hormone therapy. Hopefully, it will be resolved by the end of the year, then the uncommitted hubby and I can attempt a second pregnancy. My doctor and I are happy about the plan we've set forth and I hope that I can succeed in getting pregnant. My mother, however, does not like the idea of me trying to have another child. I will be 42 yrs old when we start trying, and I had problems with my first childbirth (preeclampsia), so she is worried about my health. I see where she is coming from, but I really think it's important for my daughter to have a sibling. I never did and I always wanted one. I trust that everything will be OK, but I guess a mother never stops worrying about her child. I love my mother for being honest with me and I love her for worrying about me.

I have also come the realization that I am an emotional eater. I have always thought that I just preferred unhealthy food, but the reality is that when I feel bad emotionally, I want greasy, high-calorie, high-fat, stomach-filling food. I can, and do, make healthy choices most of the time, I just derail myself when I'm feeling overwhelmed. I've decided to journal about the food I eat and how I feel when I choose it. Hopefully, I'll do better than I have with this blog!

Well, that's the news. I promise to post more regularly in the future...even if it is totally boring!