Spineless

It's time to face it. My entire life I've been told that I have no backbone. I guess the combination of being the bossed-around-youngest-child and a white personality didn't leave me with any chance for being demanding. But everyone talks about it like it's a bad thing. Being in Idaho, I've learned that being completely spineless gives you an amazing flexibility that most people don't have. It's a gift without which I would never make it through this whole experience, so thank you, bossy sisters. I wouldn't be where I am today without you. Literally.

Because would any newlywed with half a spine agree to move to Idaho for a month? No. It would be out of the question. But I did, and I'm glad I did, because I just want to be with little Brandon.

And who else would be okay with living out of a suitcase in a relative's house for two weeks? I'm not sure many other people could handle it, especially when you find out that the house that is supposed to be empty apparently isn't. Right now we are living in Brandon's uncle's house, who is out of town. But yesterday we came home to find the milk gone and a big toy car in the living room. So either one of his cousins moved home for a day, or a baby stormed the house demanding milk and leaving his toys everywhere. I am leaning towards the latter explanation.

And finally, you pretty much can't have any backbone at all when you have to apply for jobs at places like Arctic Circle and Bingham County Store. If I knew how to stand up for myself, I would hold out for a job that actually requires some skills. And I would be very unemployed.

It's not easy being spineless, but it would be much harder for me if I were strong and unyielding.