a bad case of dg.

So it all starts with a can of Starbucks Iced Coffee or Nerds or ice cream or pineapple soda or….

Well, I promised a 2nd installment of my last blog titled "cake eating." I don't quite think that all of my neuroses are worth talking about. Seriously, who would? But this one has a little bit of ridiculousness associated with it.
A bad case of DG? DG is the acronym that my husband and I have coined to describe my habit. I do this all the time, and Rob doesn't do this all the time. And on occasion Jenny gets picked on for this. It stands for "delayed gratification" – I have gotten rather compulsive about delayed gratification. I am going to manage to talk about some of the same things in my last blog: cake and sex; not "baby" cake, but real cake. Delayed Gratification for me is "how long can I put off this thing that I really, really, REALLY love before I indulge in it?" (Thus resulting in maximum satisfaction – emphasis on maximum)

The answer to that can be determined for these betrothed items:
Can of Starbucks Iced Coffee: 6 months and still counting
Can of pineapple soda: 1.5 months (before husband nags me to drink it, because he was trying to be sweet by buying me something that I love.)
Ice cream: bad example, because Rob and I can polish these off pretty quick.
Nerds: bad example, because I have already determined that I'm addicted to them, I keep constant stock of them.

You see, people might think that I am a perfect candidate for Y2K because of this DG – remember the national freak out period where every one was storing items before the year 2000 – because we thought the world was going to end or something like that?!

Let me assure you that this is not the case. See, the reason for this is I feel that the longer I "persevere" and abstain from said item, the sweeter the Nerds taste, the fizzier the pineapple soda, the more jolting the Starbucks Iced Coffee. Basically – the more glorious the experience is going to be, because I have waited X amount of time. Yes, it's ridiculous, and yes, it is turning compulsive. I have some of that genetic dysfunction in myself. Rob also calls my DG – hoarding. We had a technical/symantics debate on whether or not is was right to call it "hoarding". It wasn't a long debate, because we're professionals at being married and we never fight. (Did I mention we're celebrating 3 years on Wednesday?!?!) No, not exactly, but we have gotten used to the fact that there are times where we know that once we've stated our individual positions, we're done and that's it, because we still see it our own way. I think someone has said "agree to disagree". That's it. Yes, we do that quite well. We STILL have issues about how each of us loads the dishwasher, but it doesn't matter, because when that one person isn't around we fix the dishwasher the way we like it…..and round and round we go. Beautiful harmony.

OK, so what am I saying? Again, I digress. Oh yeah, the debate about the term "hoarding". I told him that "hoarding" is when you continue to collect and collect and you never spend/use it. Like a miser, right? I told him, too, that I preferred it be called "savoring". I like to "savor" things. So the reason I save something is for that delayed gratification that will allow me to really "savor" (copy enjoy) it.

Now to talk about cake. Remember the phrase we talked about? "You can't have your cake and eat it too." Well, this is why once he clarified the true meaning, thus ruining my last blog entry, it really made painful sense to me. Because you can't have the two things at the same time "cake" and "eating the cake". And this is why Rob, in a sense, is correct in calling it "hoarding", even though I am not actually continuing to collect more and more. I am purposely not eating the cake, because I still want to have the cake in my possession. Until the "eating the cake" part seems more rewarding, then I will still have "cake" in my possession. And in fairness to my preference of "savoring", I, too, am correct because in order for me to really "savor" (enjoy) my "cake", it requires that I wait X amount of time until I really, really, REALLY want it.

So what have I not talked about that I said I would? Oh yes, sex. Think about the wedding day and the wedding NIGHT. Maybe this DG gene that I have is a female inherited thing, and the lack thereof is a male inherited thing. Let me explain. See Rob's approach to my behavior is just this: "Jenny, you can 'savor' it, just get some more. See, I continue to "savor" over and over and over." Now think of the traditional wedding process. You are constantly building and building up to that day, and no matter what, people will always say that that day happened so fast and it was a blur. Now, I think girls will say that more, because for guys it's just a countdown thing. How much more time until the Wedding Night?!? (picture kid in backseat of car: "Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?") Now think of another analogy frequently mentioned. C'mon we all have heard it. "Men are like microwaves and women are like crockpots". How true. And as far as sex – it's the road to the destination for women, and men just want to get there.

And likewise is true. I know if I asked Rob to "savor" sex, he would LAUGH in my face and say "Jenny, you can 'savor' it, just get some more. See, I continue to "savor" over and over and over and over and over!!!"

Houston, we have a problem. Alright, I think this one's a tie, unless I can get some audience participation. So…..? Is it a girl thing? Or is it a "Jenny, you're ridiculous" thing?

I ask you all: Would you rather have your cake or eat it?

Aw well. Cheers anyway! (Sigh. I think I need a day job.)

Little tribute to our wedding day.

lose something? there isn't any cake in there.

cake! wink, wink.

cake eating

It's like I have fans, right? Not quite, but I do have priceless friends that will last and last and last for this life on Earth. One fan friend writes: "How are things in the 'sippi? I am writing to tell you that I am disappointed in the lack of blogs lately. I will have you know that the ONLY reason I have been logging into myspace is to check for more Jenny Brooks blogs. I am sure you have some good stories to tell! Maybe about the dog that is trying to adopt you, or about your cute little boy, etc!!!"

Little does she know that I am using this to exploit her! J Well, I included this portion for a few reasons. One, because she always gives me such warm fuzzies and that's because she is a friend for life. Two, this is to prove to all of us, that we don't all have to be crack addicts, umm, I mean MySpace addicts and that there IS INDEED HOPE FOR US ALL. Third, I have a sad disclaimer. I also included her submission because I plan to use it to disclaim my initial blog below. The truth of the matter is, while I would have posted this sooner, because it had already been written (I wasn't sure I liked it and I wasn't sure it really got any point across. Yes, sometimes I do try to make a point.).

This reader, Em, (she's my #2, but only on MySpace) is my best friend from college. And while we're all grown ups here, she knew me at a time in my life where talking about sex was not exactly my "cup of tea." I do need to tell her that the reason I am not going to talk about the "dog that is trying to adopt" us is because, well, in all honesty a sex story will emerge. See this dog trying to claim us as family really belongs to the family that lives in the trailer behind our property. For much of the late evening Saturday this dear little brindle boxer was running around every door outside our house trying to get in. Our boxer, Rainey, is already crazy by herself, let alone with some dog encouraging her. As much as this dog was skinny and malnourished, my husband and Emily insisted that feeding it would not be a good idea if I wanted the dog to leave us alone. So we didn't feed it. AND IT STILL HUNG AROUND. ALL NIGHT. It even managed to find the back door of our house that goes into our bedroom and scratch and jump on the door. I am going to spare you details….but leave you with this. Picture a married couple trying to spend a little romance together, and the dog almost breaks down the door. Think I'm kidding? Well, it's true. After all sorts of jumping on our door and us having cold weather at night. It seems the metal door contracts when it's cold, and doesn't stay latched too well because of it. I said, "Rob, why does it seem that the door is open?" Rob's like, "Because it is!" I jump out of bed, and quickly shut the door out. A second more, and the dog would have been in our house meeting Rainey. Two lively boxers is NOT what you need at midnight and mainly due to the "thing" mentioned earlier.

Below is the blog I have just prefaced. Ha – if you can call it that.

I have been thinking about the saying "you can't have your cake and eat it, too." I think we all agree that it is a ridiculous statement, because we all say "well, if I have cake, of course, I want to eat it." Yes, we all know this is true. Lately, though, it has made me think, because I think what the adage really meant was you actually have to work at it to get your cake. If you want to eat cake, you must work for cake. In this case you must combine all the ingredients into a batter, and bake it in the oven.

This has been the case for me. Well, sort of. It has been a sacrifice issue for me. In this case, cake is baby. I want the "cake", but I don't want to eat it? Wait a sec. So analogies don't work as well for me as they do my husband. Rob loves analogies. He loves using them to explain things to me. It actually suits him quite well, because it helps me understand airplane stuff. For instance, my favorite story is "turning into the notch". You should ask him sometime. But this is off my issue of cake.

Cake is good. Baby is good. I'm willing to bake a "cake" cake, but not a "baby" cake. Really what I am trying to say is that lately I have been feeling the "feeling" of another child. Wanting one. Feeling ready. Ben conveniently gives me good excuses to hide behind, just by his every day antics. But this is not living life. Living life is not making excuses, so I cannot really use his mischievous antics to change my mind about future Brooks children. The bottom line here is that I want another baby, but I don't want to have to bake it. Literally. Pretty bad, huh? Well, it gets a little worse. The reason I don't want to "bake" it is because I have grown to be pretty proud of my figure, because this is the first time in my life that I have actually worked pretty hard for it. No, I was never overweight. No, I don't have a Weight Watchers testimony to tell. No, I wasn't a "Monica". But I do feel that I with my running and my love of physical fitness, I have earned this body, and I enjoy pushing it to its limits and being tough. So the prideful nature in me really does not look forward to "baking" a baby and being all big and pregnant and stuff. As much as I know this sounds bad, I really don't mean to be vain. It apparently is something linked to my human nature, so please forgive me.

I am a little embarrassed and realize that this prideful arrogance needs to vanish. Even Rob – known for being the "diplomatic" one in the family – didn't argue with me when I said, "that's pretty bad, huh?" I have even tried to look at "baking" as a challenge to get myself psyched about it again. I would think to myself, "Just think of the challenge of trying to shrink a SECOND time!" It has made me pretty torn about it, and I know the right answer. I know that the way I feel is wrong and, frankly, ungodly.

Life is sacrifice. And if you don't sacrifice, you don't live. I really believe that.

I think humility is an ongoing battle. Because I have never been very competitive and certainly not sports-minded, I am realizing how important it is to remain humble. I know that that involves continuing to go to God and be honest. Being meek. Being earnest. God is my true gauge, not me. I need to want what He wants.

And perhaps, that is why the adage makes more sense to me now. You really don't want to eat cake (and you surely *don't* deserve it), if you're not willing to make it yourself. At least this is proving to be my situation. I don't know. Would love thought from anyone. Maybe you have your own stumbling blocks in different areas of you life. Maybe this will help you. Maybe it will add to your confusion.

PS – My husband has just ruined this blog for me as he said that the whole meaning behind the cliché is not what I think it means. But I'm posting it anyway. He said that it really means that you can't have both, because if you eat it the cake, you have none, and to continue having cake, means not eating any. Whatever. This will bring me to a continuation of this new topic. Trust me.

To be continued….

PPS - and since this blog is a little lame, I will include some pictures of my darling boy, Ben. Yes, he's darling, even when he fights bedtime.