Reproductive Sex

I've been lied to. Despite everything I've seen on TV and in the movies, making babies is not much fun. Don't get me wrong, it's still fun. I mean it's definitely more fun than scooping the litterbox. Maybe I'm just too old for this.

I love science and all, but cycles and ovulatory calculations don't make for good foreplay. Not to mention my favorite show is on tonight and I've got to get up tomorrow at 5:30am. How are we supposed to fit this in?

We've waited too long. Now it all feels rushed. Next year is the big 40 finish line and how the hell did that get here so fast? Having kids was one of those things I just took for granted. I never expected to marry a woman who wasn't that interested in the prospect. I guess it serves me right for being one of those sexist men who think all women have this built in maternal instinct.

I wish I had someone else to blame, but it's just me. I asked her to marry me. I didn't push the issue. I kept putting it off. And now I don't want to go to all the effort of staying up late and fighting with my wife to have lousy but reproductive sex.


-T

Just a quick post to lay out where I am today. Things are going well for us financially right now. With my added jobs delivering pizza, doing computer consulting, and working as a teaching assistant in the med center, we've got some good money rolling in. We got a bonus last month at work, we got our tax refund, and were able to pay our homeowner's insurance, close out a credit card, and kick some money back into our emergency fund.

It has felt good to be able to make a difference. I don't enjoy slinging pizza, and I'm looking to increase my consulting work to eventually replace it, but I have felt a lot more confident about myself. I find myself to be a person who can do what it takes to get it done. Three months ago, I wasn't so sure about that.

And I also have to remind myself that it isn't all up to me. God has given me endurance. God has been at work to bring hope. It's easy to put it all on my plate. We still have considerable debts to pay. We still have a long way to go. Paying off this first credit card was a milestone. Now that I'm seeing some light at the end of the tunnel it's a good time to remind myself that this has been a team effort so far and will continue to be a team effort going forward.

And on that blessed day when my creditors receive their last payment, what will I do then? I find myself day-dreaming about it. Selling our home and moving into town. Buying a motorcycle. Taking a vacation. I'm ashamed to find that most of my dreams are about spending all my money on me.

A friend of mine recently wrote on her blog about her daughter selling lemonade to raise money for a clean water charity. There are many charities around the world making a big difference in the lives of others. I've been putting off contributing to these causes (both financially and personally) because I'm focused on getting us financially free, and yet I know when we reach our goals, I'll have to make a concerted effort to get off my couch and shift my focus from myself.

This past Sunday our pastor spoke about life after death. Talk of heaven doesn't really do much for me. Praising God for all eternity may be great and all, but excuse my blasphemy here, it's not that appealing. That's not the end, though. The Bible teaches that our end is eventually a new earth. Whether it's a restoration of the current planet we live on, or Earth 2.0, I don't know, but THAT is appealing to me. I enjoy work. I look forward to working on that new Earth. I look forward to doing all the things I didn't have enough time for in this life. Going fishing. Playing cards with old friends until the wee hours of the morning...

And there is a lot to enjoy in this present life as well... and much of it doesn't involve money. The weather has been great lately, and I've taken time to enjoy it as I walk between buildings at work. I enjoy the camaraderie of my co-workers as we worry about the economy and our jobs.

Things are never perfect, but life IS good.

The Importance of Evaluation

I spent the day today in a FranklinCovey seminar on "Focus." The first half of the seminar gave us a vision for why we need focus in our lives, the second half gave us practical ways for prioritizing and then maintaining our focus on the things that are truly important. (An hour of which was a blatant infomercial on the FranklinCovey Planner system. Yawn.)

My clear take away from today is that I spend too much of my time reacting and too little time planning. I've made to do lists, but my problem is that I don't check them regularly and evaluate my progress. I set reminders for an item, and then it just nags me and I eventually turn off the reminder and forget about it.

Here are some things I'm committing to do for at LEAST the next three weeks.
• Spend between 10 and 30 minutes each week planning for the upcoming week. For practical reasons, I'm blocking out Saturday mornings for this task.
• Schedule time at work to prioritize and schedule my day.
• Review the days tasks and appointments regularly (need to define what 'regularly' means)
• On worknights, head to bed around 9pm with a goal of sleeping at 10pm.
• Spend 5-10 minutes each evening reviewing my tasks and appointments and planning for the following day.

This is probably going to be a frustrating 3 weeks. Changing habits is difficult. I want to do this so I am the one choosing actively how I spend my time, rather than having it chosen for me.

Old Wives Tales

If you have an account on Facebook, you have probably been accosted by the "25 Random Things about Me" chain-posting going around. I have refused to respond, but my wife posted one a day or so ago. In it she included the following two items:

• The last time I wanted children was when I was 10. Doing Children's Theatre consistently for the past 15+ years makes me see both the beautiful and the ugly in children. But I have been asking God to change my heart if Todd & I are supposed to have any.
• I don't cook. I can, but I don't like to waste my time doing something that will be gone in 5-10 minutes. I'd rather make something that will last for a lifetime. Now, I will, however, bake.

Now, neither of these items were a surprise to me. Shondra makes a mean Mac and Cheese, and can do wonders for a frozen pizza, but if I want a good bowl of red, it's up to me. The kids issue I've discussed in previous posts.

One of her Facebook friends saw the list and posted the following: "...learn to cook! It's so rewarding! Then you might change your mind about having children."

At first, I just laughed. Cooking = desire to have children. Hilarious.

Shondra wanders around the house barefoot all the time and that hasn't seemed to have much of an impact. I guess barefoot = pregnant does not hold true.

Back to the cooking equation, though - I enjoy cooking, and I do want to have kids. That's a bit weird. Maybe there is something to it.

Honey... let's make some dinner together tonight. :)

Christmas Spirit

Friday night I was out delivering pizzas, lost in the dark and looking for some semblance of address numbers on the houses as I passed. At the end of the street was a home brilliantly lit for the Christmas season. Santa Claus stood in his sleigh on the grassy front lawn, surrounded by blow up snowmen, snow-globes and a barrage of other holiday lawn decor. This was the house.

As I opened the car door and grabbed 2 steamy pizzas and a box of greasy hot-wings, Mannheim Steamroller wafted gently from hidden speakers. As I rang the doorbell, Jingle Bells started playing in tinny door-chime fashion as I waited on the front stoop. The dull glow of thousands of blue-tinted LED Christmas lights illuminated the receipt for $31.95.

My wife and I usually decorate our house with Christmas lights, but a fire last August destroyed all of our exterior lights. Being on a tight budget, we decided to buy a tree this year and forgo exterior decor until Christmas 2009. We had heard about the new LED Christmas lights, so I asked the homeowner how he liked them.

We chatted for a bit as he paid for his pizza, and I mentioned that our Christmas lights were destroyed last year. At this his eyes brightened and he said, "I have just the tip for you." He walked me out to the front of his garage where 5 large rubbermaid tubs sat, filled with Christmas lights. A lump rose in my throat as he started hauling them out to my car. They were filled to the brim with lights of all shapes and sizes. As we loaded them into the car, he asked only that I promise to put them up and wish my neighbors a merry Christmas.

I was blown away. To him, they may have just been some extra lights that he wasn't using this year. To me they were a very generous gift of Christmas Spirit.

Mysterious Ways

It's been a while since I've really had a good talk with God. I've been busy, or I laze around in bed for too long, or, frankly, I just choose to ignore Him.

Yesterday my pastor spoke about God's desire for us to celebrate life. To celebrate Him. I've felt lately that I've been a failure to my Savior. My life isn't one that stands out or is full of the miraculous power of God. (Actually it is, I just don't want to look deep enough to see it).

Today on the bus ride in I listened to a sermon on Esther, and I was reminded that we all are called by God. We all have a mission in life. But we also have a "shadow mission," that more selfish use of our time and talents that we tend towards. Our true mission requires effort and self-sacrifice. It calls us to do that which is beyond us.

I've been on my shadow mission of late. Coasting through life. As I hopped the train to the med center, I switched my mp3 player over to a Joan Osborne album. God used it to speak to me - first through "Crazy Baby." Here's a smattering of the lyrics:

"Oh you're getting really hard to be with, and you're crying everytime you turn around, and you wonder why you cannot pick your head up, off the ground. Oh my crazy baby, try to hold on tight. Oh my crazy baby, don't put out the light."

It really spoke to me as I contemplated life without God, following my "shadow" mission. Just a selfish focus on myself and my small little world. It's a tiring way to live. It sucks the life out of you.

And then, my player kicked over to "Ladder" and God was clearly telling me directly "I'm gonna love you anyway, today and everyday, today and everyday" in the chorus. That's something He keeps reminding me. I can choose my path, and my path choice does nothing to affect how He does feel or will feel about me. His love for me never changes. And that is life changing.

MORE BEER! MORE BEER!

Now that Shondra and I are back in the house, I'm settling back in with the neighbors. Our neighbors to the North are a great hispanic couple with 4 cute young'uns who frequently hit us up for whatever the local school fundraiser might be. Across the street to the East are the neighbors who I share my grass clippings with and who frequently are called upon to watch our cats when we are gone on vacations.

To the South are some neighbors I've been a bit hesitant about. Every year they have a HUGE Halloween party which consists of massive decorations, several kegs, and a large number of revelers - many of whom leave me gifts of empty beer containers on my lawn. Needless to say, they haven't been my favorite neighbors.

As we've been moving in, I've made an effort to get to know my neighbors a bit better. I walked over and borrowed some drillbits from my Southern neighbor, and I have to say that he's a decent guy. His garage is a neighborhood phenomenon. It is a full blown bar, complete with pool table, TV, and the beer bottle trophies of beverages conquered by those who have gone before. I hung out at his place a couple Friday nights ago and had a good time chatting about Star Wars books and the intricacies of good wheat brews.

This Sunday I was out working on my flower beds and I heard someone yelling something unintelligible above the roar of a lawnmower from the direction of the Southern Neighbor. As I peered over the fence and listened more closely I was amused to find my neighbor's housemate (I think) plowing down the grass in their lawn while yelling at the top of his lungs "MORE BEER! MORE BEER!" Great stuff.

It's good to have some quirky neighbors. That way I don't feel like the only oddball.

The Little Stuff

Yesterday at church, my pastor talked about "Cursed Worship." In a nutshell, bringing our leftovers to God instead of our best. Disrespecting who God is because we'd rather love the world than Him.

Commuting in to work has been somewhat of a blessing. It forces me to slow down. I look around. I notice the sunrise. I notice the variety and diversity of the people on the train as I ride to the med center.

It's so easy to get caught up in needs and wants. Needing to pay the bills. Needing to save up for property taxes. Needing to clean the house. Wanting a new TV. Wanting to do some landscaping. Wanting more stuff for my bike.

It keeps my head down so I can't see all the beauty around me in my trouble. It lies to me and tells me how much better it will be when I finally do this or that.

The truth is all I have, all we have, is now. This moment. It is joy and sorrow, beauty and brokenness.

What is it about Monday?

This morning I got up earlier than normal, and I still was about 30 minutes late to work. Not only that, but I found out once I sat down at my desk that my pants had been unzipped all morning. While standing in the carpool line at the bus station... pants unzipped. While riding in to work with two strangers and reading a book... pants unzipped. While walking across downtown to the train... pants unzipped. While waiting for the train for an extra long time because something was wrong with the Southbound line... pants unzipped.

I'm kind of surprised that no one alluded to the fact that my pants were unzipped. Granted, I'm wearing black pants today, so it may have been that it just wasn't that noticeable. It seems like when I was younger people were kind of excited about letting others know - "Hey, XYZPDQ." (For the sake of clarity - 'eXamine Your Zipper Pretty Darn Quick') It was kind of a fun thing to say, not to mention getting to stare, point, and laugh at another person's humiliation.

Maybe people just don't stare at other's crotches like they used to anymore. Or maybe I don't have a crotch worth staring at.

Getting the Monkey off my back

So, in the Fall, I took a new job with a nice increase in salary in the hopes of finally seeing some light at the end of the tunnel toward getting our butts out of debt. Less than a month later my house was struck by lightning.

Here we are today at the end of the 9 month process of rebuilding and moving back in and now I wonder where to begin.

I've been listening to Dave Ramsey and reading his book Total Money Makeover. I want to get out of debt, but I find that when it comes to making day to day decisions, I screw things up. I grab lunch with a friend which puts me over my spending limit in that budget category for the month. I guess what I'm seeing is that I want to be out of debt, but my actions are indicating that I'd rather stay in debt.

I'm considering taking on an additional job. My fear is that I'll just spend that money on other toys and not use it to reduce my debt load. With the move into the house, I've got a lot of wants. A new TV, an amplifier and speakers for surround sound, computer gear, game consoles... the list goes on. Not to mention a motorcycle and/or car.

I find that I am basically undisciplined. I want what I want and I want it as soon as I can figure out a way to get it. Shondra seems to be basically the same. Neither of us are good at planning out our spending.

When I used to complain about something I needed to do, but didn't want to do, my mom, in all her caring empathy, used to tell me, "Just shut up and do it." Guess it's time to take that advice.

Thoughts on that Jesus guy

Lately I've been re-reading a book that really means a lot to me. It's "Blue Like Jazz" by Donald Miller.

I'm a Christian. I'm ashamed to say I'm almost embarrassed to admit it. Frankly, I have a hard time identifying with the Christian establishment here in the USA. I wonder if Jesus feels the same way.

God talks to me sometimes. Not an audible voice, or some thunder from the heavens. When He speaks it is through my own thoughts. It's only when I'm quiet enough or frustrated enough with things that I take the time to listen. It's never like "Todd, put down that remote and listen up. This is God speaking!" It's more like, "Quit being so hard on yourself. I like you the way you are."

I tend to brush those thoughts off. I prefer to remind myself of my faults and think of ways I can stop doing the stuff that continues to make a mess of my life. By the way, thinking of ways to stop doing that stuff doesn't work. I've been trying that method for the last 37 years, and if anything, I'm worse off as time goes on.

See there is this thing that Jesus brought on the scene called grace. It basically says, "Yeah, I know who you are. Everything - I know it all. And I still want to hang out with you." I really have a hard time getting that. As I get older, I get more and more familiar with myself and my motives and such. The more I know the more depressed I get, because basically I'm a self-absorbed person. What in the world is there to like about me? And that's just it. Lately when God talks to me He says stuff about how much He likes me. I have a hard time believing that.

I'm reminded (as I read "Blue Like Jazz") that the reason I don't want to believe it is because I prefer to be in control. I want to make myself somebody who is worthy of being liked by God. I want to be like Mother Theresa, but with balls. I want God to say, "Dude, check out Todd. That guy rocks. How could I possibly do without this guy?" Kind of cocky.

And yet, I don't like being around cocky people. People who love to talk about themselves and their achievements. People who talk about their amazing children who went to Harvard at age 5 and started a business at 10.

I enjoy people who are gritty and real. People who make mistakes and can laugh at themselves. I can relate to those people. From what I read about Jesus, he likes those people too. His closest friends were tax collectors and fishermen... and hopefully a Systems Analyst at MD Anderson.

Jamaican Jams

In my last post I talked about being appreciative of present moments. It's become a theme which I have been more aware of lately. Maybe I should blog more often.

Anyway, in that vein, I had a nice drive in to work this morning that I want to relate. One of the things I enjoy about working downtown is that the bus system is designed to get people there quickly. The bus ride from the Park and Ride station near my house is a straight 20 minute trip, non-stop. When I can, I like to carpool in with some other folks heading downtown. To save time, people will drop by the Park and Ride and pick up riders so they can meet the 2 (or sometimes 3) passenger minimum to take the high occupancy vehicle lane in to work. Besides satisfying my desire to be a cheap bastard (bus is $3, carpool is free), it's also a nice way to meet other folks and do a little networking.

This morning I was waiting in line and a young, pretty black woman pulled up in a Toyota 4-Runner. Her sky-roof was rolled back, her windows were rolled down and her stereo was blaring reggae music. She had her hair up in dreads and her face was pocked with some acne. I completely expected her to speak with some Jamaican accent, but I was disappointed when she asked how I was doing with the standard Houston lilt. We hit the road and the windows and sunroof were closed and the A/C went on. We didn't talk much on the way in and I just sat back and enjoyed the ride. To our right (looking South) the sky was dark with clouds and impending rain. To the Left there were patchy clouds and bright sunshine. The reggae music was playing from a disc in her CD changer and it regularly skipped. At first I just thought it was some production choice. The music was facinating - pretty standard repetitious bouncy reggae - but it had all these synth effects in it that sounded like the laser gun audio effects from the original Star Wars movies. It was like some reggae band playing during a shootout between the Rebel Alliance and the Empire.

Anyway, it was just a cool moment: the heavens undecided about rain, odd reggae music with lasers skipping and popping, and the facinating contrast of a lovely woman with beautiful dreadlocked hair and acne singing along with her favorite songs. It was good stuff.