I've been branching out lately from reading blogs of my friends to lurking on the blogs of women I've never met. I'm not a big commenter by any means. I usually read a post and then sit for awhile and ponder what it means to me.

Maybe it's a by-product of my LDS religion. Once a month our Sunday services involve members (who are so inspired) to ascend to the pulpit uninvited and "bear their testimony". They proclaim what they know or believe to be truth and oftentimes relate a story that led them to that belief. It reminds me of a 2-4 minute (and sometimes longer) blog post. But there is no section for comments. You sit quietly and ponder their proclamation until the next member approaches the microphone. Testimony Meeting is a beautiful thing. It's something I look forward to each month. Sometimes I'm impressed to speak my thoughts, but most of the time I enjoy partaking of the strength of others. I feed my testimony with their own.

Can you see how this might transfer over to blog posts? Add to that a propensity toward shyness and a biologist's way with words and you have my personal insecurities.

Occasionally, though, a blog post will become so important to me that I will itch to reply. My fingers fly over the keyboard with an opinion, an argument, a suggestion, or a special thought. Sometimes I delete the comment before it ever sees the 1s & 0s it will become. It was enough to type out my frustration or excitement, and then I decide that the author does not need to see inside my frazzled head. Once you click that "submit" button it's so hard to take back your comment. There is so much garbage on the internet, why add my pointless drivel?

But then I found a blog where the author seemed to invite all commenters. I tentatively tapped out a thought and felt the flutterings of nervousness as I submitted it. "Your comment is awaiting moderation" said the webpage and I thought What if my comment doesn't make the cut? What if she doesn't like my words enough to add them to her little world she's created here? It was a nerve-wracking 30 minutes. Then my comment was added! Then I got a personal email in my inbox thanking me for my comment. She had visited my blog and had enjoyed my posts. Someone that I didn't know, far away from me, had an insight into my mind and life and liked what she saw. She invited me to post more often and thanked me for reading her blog. She didn't know me from Adam, and yet she valued my opinion. It was thrilling. (Thanks, Aidan)

And then I came crashing down. (Can you see a pattern here? Maybe I need as much meds as D) What the heck am I going to post now?? I always imagined only family and friends reading my blog. Sure, the occasional person might stumble on it, but I'd never included my website address into a comment before now. Was I on a stranger's RSS feed? Would everything I typed pop up on some random person's computer? Does this seem like a lot of pressure to anyone else? What about typos? Boring posts? Unrelated stories about the kiddos? Who cares about that kind of stuff?

I set my mind to write one beautiful post. I've been thinking for quite awhile about what to write about. Something contemporary and alive. Something edgy, but relatively tame. (My grandmother reads this thing, guys.) Something to make people think, feel, and want to share. And what do I have? Nyet. Nada. Bubkis. I think I'm going to have to settle for a handful of somewhat-neat posts instead of One Beautiful Post.

Much like my life. Instead of becoming a doctor and saving one really important person, I became a wife and mother and I save the three most important people in my life every day. I have a handful of beautiful experiences that I treasure, not that one amazing and lifechanging experience that some people have. And I'm ok with that. In fact, I'm great with that.

So here it is, world. Here's my post. Make of it what you will. Comment on it, random people. Comment, friends. Comment anonymously or add your name at the bottom. I welcome all comers.

Are you as nervous as I am about commenting, and if you are will you have the courage to say something? Do you have a blog that seems insignificant to the profound things you read online?

You all "know a guy". The guy who you call on when something technological goes bad. When your computer freezes and you can't get it to restart. When your website goes down and you need it back up fast. When you need your new audio receiver hooked up into your surround sound and your HDTV. That guy who can get you any program you want--whether it's illegally downloaded or not is up to you. That guy who can find the best deals on electronics with one hand (or browser) tied behind his back.

Well, I happen to be married to that guy. So what does that mean for me?

It means that there are always wires and cables running all over the house. It means that we have a $3000 TV that we watch while sitting on a $100 couch. That means that we always have the best of everything electronic...because this is his hobby. This is his passion. This is what he spends 18 out of 24 hours a day doing. He sits at a computer all day at work, but the first thing he does when coming home is pull out his laptop. If we're sitting in a restaurant, he has his phone out and is surfing the web or looking up something instead of making conversation. It means that when I see something cool online and get excited to show it to him, he's probably already seen it. Pros and cons.

It also means that he's constantly asked to "do a favor for a friend". Even his computer geek friends at work come to D with their problems. And 9.6 times out of 10 he can solve them. It means that a few weeks ago one of these "friends" came over to get help with his Wii. And stayed while D worked on it. For 5 hours. 5 hours. D had been up late doing consulting work and hadn't woken up until almost 11 am. The friend came over just after that. He was here from 11:30 to 4:30 pm. D and I had a date that night and we were leaving at 5:30. That means that the kiddos only saw dad for about an hour that day.

This is not a rare occurrence around here. Sure, maybe 5 consecutive hours is a bit abnormal, but most "projects for a friend" take anywhere from 2-15 hours. Do these people understand what service they're getting? D doesn't ever charge them. If he was charging them his normal rate (which is half the going rate, of course) they'd be talking about hundreds and hundreds of dollars. Right now he's fixing the laptop of his massage therapist. He's probably spent a total of 20 hours on this laptop...taking it apart, troubleshooting, ordering parts, more troubleshooting. That's more than $1000 of work-hours. He returned it fixed, only to have her give it back 3 days later with another problem. She's offered him a free massage, but he won't take it. "Just doing a favor for a friend", he says.

I think he likes to feel needed and liked. I also think that he doesn't need to work as hard as he does for people to like him. He's usually got 2-3 projects going at a time for friends. Plus his regular work. And his consulting work. And anything that goes wrong in our household (and with 3 laptops and more gaming consoles than the average E3 conference) that happens quite regularly. No wonder he feels like he's working all the time. But I'll tell you a secret: he likes it. No, he loves it. If he were marooned on a desert island with no electronics and no internet, he'd be the Professor who creates a coconut radio and a salt-water powered computer.

So, if you know a guy like this, just remember his family. Next time he tells you "Oh, the job only took an hour or two" don't believe him. The actual fixing may have taken that long, but the troubleshooting and research took far longer. If he won't accept money, buy him a giftcard to amazon.com or itunes.

DON'T get him any electronic equipment...he probably already has it and if not, he knows where to get it cheaper.
DON'T get him a gift card to RadioShack--all they sell is phones and toys now.
But DO remember to give him a little something for his troubles.

After all, this was time spent working for you when he could have been anything else. And don't take advantage of the nice geeks out there. Do some research for yourself before you come to him. "What TV should I buy?" is a lot different than "I need 4 inputs for video gaming, want to spend between $1000-$2500, my entertainment system can hold up to 40", and it needs to be High Def."

Cut the guy a break. Somewhere his wife is sitting downstairs alone, blogging, and wishing he was done with his stupid project already so they could watch something on their really nice TV. Because what's the use of having all these nice things if there's no one to share it with?

Do you have a geek in your life? Is D your geek (and if you're related to me or friends with me, that's probably true)? Do you swear to treat your geek right from now on? Is your significant other the lawyer geek/car geek/photo geek in someone else's life?

I watched my little 4 year old guy run outside to play with a neighbor boy this afternoon. The kid rang the doorbell, as normal as you please, and begged to play with Pumpkin. At first Pumpkin didn't want to, but I told him that quiet time was over if he wanted to go play. I've never seen the kid get his shoes on so fast. I told him I had work to do upstairs and to be good.

Then I sat myself down at an upstairs window and watched him play. The boy is a little younger than Pumpkin and likes to follow my son's lead. They picked up walnuts fallen from our tree and smashed them into the sidewalk, harvesting the tasty treats hidden inside. I think it was more the allure of destruction than the desire for food that created this little game. I watched them run little 10 foot races and pretend to fence with sticks. I watched them throw walnuts at the tree, and then run a few feet into the street (cul-de-sac, don't worry) to collect them when they missed their target.

I imagined how it must feel to go into the street. I remember as a kid having street safety drilled into my head, as I drill it into the heads of my little ones. Don't cross the street by yourself, always hold an adult's hand. Watch for cars, both ways. Stay on the sidewalk unless a grown-up says it's ok.

Then I remember the little thrill of excitement and danger that you get as a 4 year old going into the street. That first step off he curb brings quivers into your tummy and a heightened sense of awareness. This is the forbidden zone. This is off-limits. This place is dangerous and could get you killed. My transgressions as a child were small: sneaking a flashlight into bed to finish that last chapter, hitting a sister when no one was watching, finding a present hidden away for Christmas...nothing worth the wrath of a parent. But each one brought a sense of danger quickly followed by a growth of character and a feeling of independence.

And that's what I hope my little guy is feeling today. He doesn't know I'm watching over him, and sure, he's breaking the rules. But he's growing. He's almost 5. He's learning how to be a person. If a car drives by and scares him a little, then so much the better.

It makes me think of the things I do now that give me a little shiver of excitement. I didn't get a driver's license until I was 23, so until recently every time I got into a car to drive I'd get the shiver.
Buying a house gave me a week of shivers.
Being the one who has the authority to say "Sure, you can have another piece of candy" to my kids gives me the shivers.
Planning a trip overseas next spring gives me the shivers.

What gives you the shivers? Do you remember the feeling when you were a kid? Should we all be searching for more shiver-inducing opportunities?