Boreal Witch

**Warning: this blog entry contains high levels of nerdiness. If you aren't a gamer, you probably won't understand some of it or even care. All I can say is it's a good thing I'm a female gamer because geeky is the new sexy. Long live Felicia Day!**

For Christmas, my sister Blythe got us the game Star Wars: The Old Republic (SWTOR), a MMORPG put out by BioWare, as well as a subscription for several months. We didn't start playing right away because we had company for a whole month very soon after Christmas and didn't want to waste our subscription. Unfortunately for Blythe, she had to hear, "When are Bobbi and Robinson going to play?" from Dustun, her boyfriend, continuously. She's probably still hearing it because our character on his server is no where near the level that Dustun's character is probably at. Which just means we'll have to play a lot to catch up. A lot.

My character is a plucky young Twi'lek smuggler named Tuki. She, kind of like the iconic Han Solo, is a scoundrel with a heart of gold. Except that she's not just into the credits. For most missions, she could care less about the money. She'll help people - especially the underdog - because it's the right thing to do.

Here's what I have for her backstory so far: Tuki was born and raised on Ryloth to merchant parents. She has an older sister and a younger brother. She started working with her parents when she was very young and loved interacting with all of the pilots and traders. They told her stories of their adventures and she dreamed of one day flying her own ship. When she was a teenager, she had a very brief affair with a fast-talking smuggler who broke her heart and because of that she loathes slimy playboys. She is grateful to have met that louse because he was the one who taught her how to shoot a blaster. She respects good fighters and people who stand up for their convictions, even if they don't always meld with hers. She has a quick wit and will not back down once she's sworn to do something.

Last night, thanks to Mark, one of Robinson's co-workers who also happens to be a SWTOR player, Robinson and I were able to play together on his work laptop on Mark's account. The Esseles mission was super tough (we died about five times trying to knock off one of the baddies), but fun. It was great being able to do heroic missions with someone I knew. I'm hoping that some of our other friends will be able to play soon or that we'll be able to meet up with Dustun and do a few quests with him. Playing with some of the other people on our server isn't that bad, but it's way more fun if you know someone.

Okay, I think I'm geeked out for now. I'm having a lot of fun with the game, even if it makes my nerd meter go up significantly.

Blessed be.

Balin's almost a year. He's crawling well and practically walking. If he could get past his psychological issues, he'd probably be bipedal by now. He's learning sign and already has about 5 words that he uses consistently under his belt. He's an excellent helper: he doesn't hesitate to put toys back in the toy boxes and baskets, although it doesn't seem to work for chores like loading the dishwasher. People comment on his gorgeous red hair. I suppose every baby has some feature people remark on. Arthur had his eyelashes, Balin has his hair. He eats like there's no tomorrow, though I can tell he's a bit pickier than Arthur.

Already people are asking me if we're going to have another, sometimes jokingly and sometimes not. I always say no, that we're not going to have another because I would go crazy. People laugh, but I don't think that they realize I really would go crazy.

I can't even imagine another pet, let alone another person in my tiny home. I can't imagine how many more times I would hear the word, "Mommy!" or how many times I have to say, "Damnit, leave your brother alone!" or "Can't I just have 5 minutes to myself?" One was easy. Two is difficult, but not impossible. When I think about how much more I would have to endure with three, I feel a panic attack coming on. Three seems way out of my league. Three seems like struggling in quicksand with a fifty-pound weight on my back. Some days I can barely survive with two...what makes people think I could handle 3?

Most people who ask are grandparents. They love grandkids because they don't have to raise them. They don't have to feed them, or clothe them. They don't even have to play with them if they don't want to. They don't have to carry them around for 40 weeks or give birth to them. They don't have to breastfeed them or satisfy their needs. They don't have to reason with them or convince them that mashed potatoes do not belong on walls (or hair or clothes or their brother). Granted, there are many grandparents who raise their grandkids and become parents all over again. They are the exception. I'm sure if they had a choice they would rather spend their retirement years in Maui or Turkey or Mexico than be parents all over again. Gods bless you.

Parenting is a thankless job and I'm tired of being under appreciated. I don't want to have any more kids because I'm tired of being swamped with demands and expectations. I'm just done. I'm ready to be a bit selfish and take some time for me. Some people want to be around their kids all the time. I think those parents are the crazy ones.

We went to dinner at Robinson's new Home Teacher's house. He has a wife, five kids, and another on the way. The husband looked chipper, upbeat, and even played and wrestled with the kids. The wife looked exhausted. Mostly she looked like she was done with the pregnancy (she's due in May), but I could detect the same feeling I get when I feel like I'm fighting a losing battle with my kids: the need and desire to be with yourself...just being.

There was so much noise at that house. Kids screaming and fighting and talking...all the time. Her world revolves around those kids, their needs, and their wants. Being a good Mormon wife and mother, she has probably sacrificed everything she wanted to do just to have a family. And while I do admire her for that, I wonder if she ever regrets her decision or if she just writes it off as "Satan giving her dark thoughts" and then prays about it. Anyway, I'm not going to discuss this further in this entry simply because it is a bit off topic - it was something I was wondering but will probably never ask or get an honest response.

Let's just say I'm just not that type of person. I'm ready to travel again (thank goodness for the Chilkoot this summer!) and appease my adventurous spirit that's been chained up for way too long. I find myself planning "me vacations" because I yearn for time to just explore the world. Without the kids. Without the husband.

Just me.

Blessed be.

Dear Bobbi,

Today is your 32nd birthday.

A few weeks ago, you spent some time going through old photographs - mostly ones of high school and college - and I found myself thinking, "how in the world could you possibly think so negatively of yourself?"

In all of the pictures you were smiling, bold, and confident; yet I can clearly remember thinking of myself as ugly, tormented, and sad. I wrote myself off back then, believing that I would never be good enough, that I was unlovable, and that I couldn't be happy. Granted, most of this nonsense was seeped in teenage angst. We had a lot of growing to do.

Our friend Mona told me that she thought we've done more with our life than lots of people our age. I reflected upon this for a while. Had we really? Mona would not lie to us, so there had to be some truth in that statement. I made a mental checklist: 1) got married; 2) had kids; 3) traveled some - not as much as I would have liked, but some; 4) received 2 BAs and a Masters; 5) spent time volunteering for causes important to us; and on and on. There is still a lot we would like to do, certainly, but there's also so much we have done. We've made an impact in many lives, though we may never know it.

I don't miss our teenage years, but I have to wonder if we'd think differently had we known everything we know now. I'd like to think that something would have stuck, but back then we were so stubborn and hard-headed that it probably wouldn't have mattered what we knew. We needed to evolve as a person and I know for a fact that we are a different person now than we were 15 years ago. You're a little more confident and bold, reflective and thoughtful, careful and less dramatic. You can admit to being wrong and can share your fears with other people.

Today your father treated you for a Chinese lunch and your fortune cookie said, "Welcome change." I can't think of a better way to start a new year than embracing the very thing most people are afraid of. There's a lot that we still want to do that we will get to do someday. Some of it will require a bit of patience and a lot of drive. You have both and you can make all of these things happen. Life is a challenge, but the sooner you realize that the only thing in your way is you, anything is possible.

Life is too short to waste on worry and negativity and much to long to reflect on your mistakes. Keep learning, keep doing, keep loving, and keep be-ing.

Here's to another 32 years.

Love, Bobbi