Are there things that you assumed you would
NEVER do, but time passes...you get a little wiser (maybe), or you just plain change your mind? I've had a lot of those lately. Most of the time I don't feel that different from the Emily at 20 years old - footloose and fancy free away at "school". I actually didn't get much school done in those days (or any other day, for that matter), but I sure did have fun deciding what my life would be. Now, I'm a married 27 year old mother of 3 (almost, within a few weeks!) and I've realized that while the core Emily is still the same, some of the details have changed. Here's some proof:

This one shouldn't be that much of a surprise, it was only a matter of time, anyway. I always said that I didn't want to be the "kind of parent" (such judgement...) that would use the TV as a babysitter. Well, here I am, 34 weeks along with babies sucking the life right out of me. My feet and legs are so swollen that yesterday at church I wore my
fanciest flip-flops because nothing else would fit. Before the first speaker was even finished, I looked down and saw that my sandals had left deep, DEEP impressions in my chubby, swollen feet. I nudged to Erik and we both got a good laugh, in the middle of church. The doctors want me to stay off my feet, modified bedrest-ish, and so in the mornings Reid and I watch a movie together. He's had as much TV in the past couple weeks as I used to think he'd have his whole toddlerhood. Oh well.
This one will probably surprise you. But I have finally succumbed to my inner granola, and am making the switch to vegetarianism. Well, actually, to "eat-meat-VERY-sparingly-atarianism." For years I've thought about it, about how much I wouldn't really miss eating meat that much. But my hesitancy was because I've grown up in a very "meat and potatoes" family, and married a manly "meat and potatoes" man. I would think of the dinners that I knew how to make, and I just couldn't really figure out how to accomplish my wifely duties without meat. Plus, I don't like that many vegetables. Okay, so maybe that was the real concern. Then, I got pregnant with Reid, then nursed Reid, then got pregnant with twins (with no lapse in between)...and figured that even though I was ready, it just probably wasn't the time. "The babies need the meat!" (do you remember that Friends episode, when Phoebe is pregnant with the triplets and Joey offers to stop eating meat so that she can eat the meat that he would have eaten, and thereby not feel guilty in animals dying for her consumption?)
Now is the time. I'm ready. I don't really have ethical objections to eating meat, I just don't really want to eat it anymore. I've always had meat issues:
-I can't eat meat off a bone. I feel like a rabid dog, or like we're back in Medieval times. Have you been to the Renaissance festival, and everyone's walking around eating turkey legs? I can't handle it.
-I can't handle big slabs of meat. I could only eat meat when I just saw it as another piece of food. A steak or big roast just made it impossible to imagine it as anything other than a big slab of animal. Oh, and those illustrations that show where different cuts of meat come from on an an animal? Torture.
-I get the heebs touching raw meat. Everytime I see raw chicken, I imagine the dancing chickens in that claymation Peter Gabriel video. Not good.
So, there it is, I am now an "eat-meat-VERY-sparingly-atarian." I've got some things to figure out, like how to get enough protein to nurse 2 babies. But I'm sure someone has done it before. It'll work out.

Lastly, and probably the most surprising, is that I'm ready to be a gun owner. Not a crazy huge gun like this chick is holding, but a small handgun. I have always been
vehemently anti-guns. But now I have this mama bear thing going on, and I've come to the conclusion that if I'm ever in an "it's either him or me" situation, you better believe that it's going to be him. We read the Book of Mormon as a family each night, and this time around is the first time that I've really seen (or allowed myself to see) that we need to be brave enough to stand up for ourselves. I've never been good at that. But some things are too important to not defend them, at whatever cost. My family being one. So, sometime after these babies are born, I'm going to train on a small handgun (Erik is already very Jason Bourne. For work he has to be current on an M-9, whatever that is, and he's always tested at the expert level.) We'll proceed from there. The tide started turning this way a year or two ago when Erik and I watched the movie "Red Eye." Not the world's best movie, but I was really inspired to be braver. I kept thinking during that movie that if I had been her, I would have just fallen into a puddle and cried. That's no longer an option, I've got little baby bears to protect. So, I don't think I'll be out hunting anytime soon (although living in Alaska did change my perspective on that, as well) but I may soon be a gun-owner. Bad guys beware.