Joyful Heart

We walk into gardens, strolling past tulips and trees where children climb.  I spread out the quilt that my great grandmother hand pieced and quilted, slip off my shoes and Nora and I lay down, spread out while Garret gets the camera, snaps photos.  Little old ladies tell us she's beautiful, laughing because she smiles, knowing it's true because she hears it all the time...our vain little one.

I tell her that she is sweetness personified.  Garret smiles and says she is such a joyful baby. 

She smiles all the time, her eyes lighting up, her dimples creased.  One woman recently commented that she smiles with her eyes, and it's true as G tells her she smizes well enough to put Tyra Banks to shame.

I am amazed daily of the bond I have with her, this special surprise I wasn't sure I was ready for.  I constantly think, "My cup runneth over."

Valentine's Dinner

To keep from being in a food rut, we've been trying to branch out more and try new foods.  Tonight I realized that just buying a few ingredients (spinach, salmon, and broccoli) that we could have a meal with 2 new flavors.

First, we made a spiced lentil stew with sweet potatoes and spinach from Small Kitchen College. This stew was amazingly flavorful and hearty.  We ate a teacup's worth as part of our dinner and it was the perfect accompaniment to broccoli and our main course.

Maple chili salmon, recipe from The Brewer and The Baker. Mmmm.  I made enough of everything for lunch tomorrow.

I love that I'm finally beginning to make things from my Pinterest boards.  And G is loving the new flavors.  We have a roast defrosting in the refrigerator right now to have with currants, dates and a quinoa later this week!

How was your Valentine's Day?  Did you try any new foods?

P.S. I don't believe you need a significant other to have a good Valentine's Day.  My girlfriends and I have gone out together, I've celebrated with just me and a pet, and even with family.  Love is love.

Another Year

Today my husband turns 28.  Which for us marks about 10 years of him being in love with me.  A decade.  I've told him I think that I was in love with him too, but because it wasn't an infatuation sort of love, I didn't recognize it for what it was.  I couldn't handle that type of love at the time.  A deep love, a slow to realize love.  But an ember that flared up into what it is today. 

I've had 10 years of a shoulder to cry on and an intellect to debate with.  Ten years of questionable music and film choices and late night phone calls just for reassurance that I was still okay.  Ten years of giggling and tickling and flirting.  Ten years of laughing until I thought I'd explode. 

I wish I had words accurate enough to describe how I feel about him.  To explain this pull I feel, as if he's the center of my balance.  I've watched him change from boy to man.  I've seen him as my friend, my lover, my husband and now the father of my child.  What an adventure, and there are so many more to come.

I love you Garret.  Happy Birthday.

Quiet Christmas

If you read this blog regularly, you know how much we love Christmas. Every little thing is so wonderful, and it really is my favorite time of year. But this Christmas the stockings are hung, but will remain empty. And there are no gifts under the Christmas tree. It wasn't even planned this way. It's just that as the season continued on, we realized it was getting later, and we didn't care about the gifts.

This weekend will be spent just the three of us.  Tomorrow night we are having a pork loin roast with green beans and leek and potato soup. Then onto mass where most of the parishioners will be seeing Nora for the first time. And finally home to cuddle up all cozy, drinking hot cocoa with the marshmallows I'm hoping to make tonight. I've got cinnamon rolls planned for Christmas morning, to be enjoyed with hot coffee in front of our electric fireplace. It will be quiet, calm.

I bought Christmas cards last year, managed to write out 2 and then gave up.  Nora has been fussy and wanting to be held nearly 24/7 lately, and it was just too much.  I planned to make edible treats for some family members this Christmas (and caramels for T!), but those will have to go out for the New Year.

I think, "I should feel guilty, I pretty much disregarded all the Christmas things this year."  But I don't.  I feel content.  The tree is beautiful.  We'll enjoy carols and good food.  And I'm more than happy to just enjoy this little family of mine's first Christmas.  I stumbled across an old post while looking for something and it was the reminder I needed again that this home, this life I'm leading is Holy ground.  And what better time to remember that than at Christmas?

I hope that everyone has a wonderful Christmas or Hanukkah.  Being where you feel most loved really is the best gift, a reminder of our blessings. 

Getting Used To This Again

His crinkles deepened in the desert...my heart sighs with gladness.

I still can't believe he's home.  Getting to wake up to him, with him wrapped as tightly around me as possible.  Getting to hear how our daughter spent the morning kicking at him while I slept.  Getting to have coffee in bed with a not-so-competitive game of scrabble.  All these simple little things seem almost like some dream that could change at any moment.

And yet life goes on.  The mundane sneaks it's way in.  Shopping for a deep freezer to hold the yummy pork that is waiting for us at the butcher.  Looking for laundry items.  Grocery shopping.  But instead of being boring and tedious tasks they've become mini adventures where we get to hold hands and sneak kisses at red lights. 

We cook and we laugh and we get used to this dance again as we live this life we've been given.  A billion things to do and each a blessing because we get to do them together. 

Brought To You By The Letter...

G!!!

G is finally home!  He flew in yesterday and it's been absolutely heavenly.  The sky opened up and was pouring right as I reached the airport.  I headed in to wait, and was in the restroom when G called my cell and said he was past customs and looking for me.  I came out squealing, knocked into an officer (apologized), and in heels went weaving my way through the mass of people towards the back of G.  I made it all the way to him without him seeing me, so I wrapped my arms around him from behind, turned him and planted a kiss on him!  (Good thing I had the right guy!)  It was a small scene to say the least, but so worth it.

I wrote this on Sunday, while my nerves were hopping around like jumping beans:

"I feel like I'm in that moment of Sleeping Beauty, where she's lying there and the Prince has come in.  That moment of anticipation.  The pause before he kisses her and awakens her and her world from this dream state they've been forced into.  I wish I could post this.  With my feelings running every which way.  Tomorrow my Prince comes back to me.  And he'll kiss me, and it'll be like he was never gone and it was far too long all wrapped up in one.  These 6 months have been a true learning experience for the both of us.  One that was valuable, and for that reason, it's been worth it.  But I'm done learning.  I'm ready to have him home."

We spent last night having Indian food and then coming home and just letting it sink in.  He's here.  His arms wrapped around me are still this sensation that sends my brain for a loop.  I don't think we're going to be tired of each other for a long, long, time.

He had to do in-processing today until around lunch time, so I'm up, and killing time.  We actually don't have too much time together because I fly out tomorrow to head back to the midwest for a baby shower this weekend!  (It's a whirlwind, I know.)  Then I'll be back home to him and we'll be enjoying 2 weeks of vacation time.  So, if this week is a little light on posts, please forgive... I'll be busy smoochin'!

Almost Home

I bought a few new shirts yesterday on clearance at Target.  Two were maternity, but one was a long tunic with a waist that I decided was a good look for picking G up in.  The days keep on counting down, and I'm so excited I can hardly stand it.  Sadly, this is also the time that passes the slowest.  The minutes drag on, the seconds seem like eons.

It's easy to say that my husband has been safe, that because of his job it was low risk.  But when the helicopter in Afghanistan was attacked earlier this month my heart stopped a bit.  My husband flies in helicopters often.  I was worried about the convoys, had never though to consider the helicopters.  So I've been a little on edge any time he travels (which is every week).

I don't know how those who lose their spouses do it.  How they handle the physical aches that come from missing being held, from finding yourself turning in the night to curl up on a body that isn't there.  How quickly you forget the smell of someone, that has to be the worst.

It will take everything in me not to make a fool of myself at the airport.  To avoid bursting into tears or running and jumping (something that we did a lot of before, but I'm thinking would be a mistake in my present condition).  I'm looking forward to just standing there and drinking his face in.  

So getting him home will be the best thing ever.  We're planning on turning Jemima (our Garmin, she's a Brit lady) to avoid highways and drive backroads home, just enjoying being together.  Maybe I'll pack a picnic and we can stop along the side of the road and just breathe.  That breath that's been held for so very long.

Free Hug Friday

With the countdown ticking ticking until he is once again home I've realized that what I've missed the most these past 6 months is touch.  Sure, I hug friends, but the day to day existence of staying to myself has worn on me. 

G and I are touchers.  The hand on the back in a room. The pinkies linked with our hands on the pews as we sing in church.  The head on the chest or the spooning.  And constant hugs.  That man hugs more than anyone else I know.  These things I miss with a ferocity that overwhelms.

And I'm looking forward to new touches.  His hand on my belly. His hand gripping mine as I attempt to break it as I break.  The gentleness as he cradles our daughter in his arms, the three of us curled up together.

Some feel that the song Hallelujah is done too much.  I love it every time I hear it done well.  I've spent the morning listening to different artists on youtube sing it.  Hallelujah and Amazing Grace are 2 songs (and even phrases in songs) that I could listen to again and again.  This video I've seen before, but looked it up today as it felt apt.  Touch is so important.  Hugs are a love language everyone understands.  The need to connect, even briefly, is what makes us human. 

What Could Have Been

Four years ago today I popped champagne and ate bagels while getting my hair done.  I was that serene bride, I didn't really have any bridezilla moments, I was sure of what I was doing.  I got laced into a pretty, fluffy white dress and my daddy walked me down that aisle to the man who had loved me from the first time he saw me, the man I had loved a lot longer than I could admit.  And over the last four years I've remembered that naive girl and thought, "Oh, honey." 

Because marriage is not perfect.  Sometimes it's exactly like a movie.  There have been many moments G and I have joked that we really need a camera crew.  We are that romantic comedy.  And just like a good film, we've have the moments of strife, the anger, the tears, the abject loneliness of a spouse who feels a little lost.  But I didn't sign up for perfection.  It's highly overrated and makes for a cheesy film that no one wants to watch.  And since I plan to live a long time, I want the good, the bad, the crazy, and the joyful moments to look back on, replaying them in my mind.

I could have missed my chance again with him.  I could have chosen the wrong boy (there were several that summer vying for me).  I could have maintained a friendship that was straining with the "what ifs" that we'd let slip by already.  I could have watched him fly off to England.  I could have heard him tell me about another woman, a woman who was ready for him, a woman luckier than I.  I could have caught the bouquet at his wedding and realized a little too late that I had royally screwed up.

Instead, I won the lottery.  I finally saw what God meant every time he told me the guy I was praying for was already there.  And no, I don't always feel that way.  But the good outweighs the bad by a landslide.  I have never known anyone else like him, this man who is so complex is still amazes me.  Two months ago I left him a message on his private blog (that he keeps for updating family about Iraq).  I broke into his account, and surprised him with a post on our church anniversary.  Here's an excerpt from the end: 

"I miss the little things.  The goofy look you get when you're half asleep.  The way you shake your booty as you dance around the room.  The way you sing to me.  The way you always keep me company.  The creepy way you like to scare me by peeking over the shower while standing on the toilet while keeping me company!  The way you spend a lot of time staring at me or looking into my eyes.  The way I am most me when I am with you, and that I know you better than you know yourself (and vice versa). 

Oh, and I miss the big things like the nightly leg rubs, the trash being magically taken out, and not having to go up and down stairs 50 billion times a day.  But mainly I just miss you being here.  My safe place has always been with you.  I feel all out of sorts and I don't think that's gonna get better until you're curled up back here with me.  

I love you more than all the stars in all of the galaxies in all of the universe.  I love you more than every grain of sand, dirt and dust from here to Mars.  I love you more than all the drops of water, including all these tears.  You are the most amazing person I know.  Your big heart.  Your crinkly eyes.  Your q-tip head.  Your amazing ability to love even when it gets rough.

"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day.  "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?" 

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you.  When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."

"Does it hurt? asked the Rabbit.

 "Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful.  "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."

"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become.  It takes a long time.  That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept.  Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose joints and very shabby.  But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

You make me Real, my dear Bunny." 

So G, on our official anniversary, please know I have never been happier.  I am looking forward to being gathered up in your arms again in September.  And I am most definitely looking forward to spending the end of the year watching you try on your new role of Daddy.  You are the world to me.  Happy Anniversary.  Je t'aime.

He Carries My Heart

I began my birthday being sung to by my husband.  Then I was able to drift off to sleep.  I awoke later and after getting all pretty, I got a skype call from G.  I settled in, ready to chat with him a bit when suddenly the screen changed and I could see him!  (for those who might be newer, my husband had an iPad, which doesn't have a camera nor can it have one attached.)  Long story short, he's now the owner of a computer with a cam, and has been patiently waiting for my birthday to show me himself.  He's not usually good at secrets, so I was shocked and teared up a bit.  It was so, so good to see his face. 

We had such a good talk because he could see me react, and I could see him.  I made him get really close so I could see his eye crinkles.  He would get close, puckered up for kisses.  And he got to be on the phone while I opened the kindle he got me for my birthday.   

My grandmama's vintage hat, new sunglasses, and Russian Red lipstick.  And before anyone thinks anything....I had on a strapless dress!

For my birthday my girlfriends took me out for Chinese.  I awoke this morning and texted them that I felt old and eccentric and would be wearing a dress and a hat.  So they too dressed up, and off we went.  The food was good, the company great, and the lovely guys there brought me out a big bowl of ice cream with a candle in it and they all sang to me.  I must say the only bad part of my day was discovering that the baby still is not a fan of Chinese.

Now I'm waiting to speak to G again.  I woke him up (he slept later than normal), and made him get on camera.  My eyes welled up, because that is my husband....all squinty and face scrunched up in the mornings.  He's growing his hair out, so it stuck up a little funny, and he's growing a beard so he had a shadow.  I miss waking up next to him, so this was my way of getting what I miss most as my own little gift. 

For being on my own in this big city I sure did have an amazing birthday.  And a big part of that was G.  Like I told him today, we're lucky because we both wake up each day feeling like we won the world's greatest lottery because of one another.  And that makes any day (birthday or unbirthday) very perfect indeed.

Love Part 2 (mildly lengthy, but worth it)

My dear friend Miss Tracy Leigh once told me that her parents explained the birds and the bees by saying, "When two people love each other very much they share a special hug."  She was scarred by this and afraid of hugging people for a long while out of fear of having a baby. This story never fails to amuse me, so I thought I would share.  :)

I have anticipated this post for weeks.  In fact there have been several drafts which are being all sort of smooshed together here. Please excuse me if this post jumps all over the place.  In a week I will be celebrating 4 years of marriage.  So short, and yet as G and I say, "It's an entire high school or college education.....and it sure has been an education!"  I love that we are in such a good place.  I love that I'm trusting my husband with my heart again, and that I'm learning to let go a bit.  I love that someday our children are going to see what love is supposed to mean so that they in turn learn to love well.

Married love is remarkable in the ability to share a lifetime of special hugs.  It's kind of a great perk of the job (and one that I am, ahem, currently missing).  And sometimes it has remarkable results.  An exhaustion that cannot be explained.  A feeling that niggles at the mind, but is faced with denial.  A moment of reckoning when you realize that the saying, "tell God your plans and watch him laugh" is more than true.

I am writing this on April 7 even though you won't be seeing this until much later.  I want to record what it is I'm feeling right now.  I'm in awe mainly.  Our own little homegrown expression of God's amazing ability to at points allow us to see the big picture.  The bulimia that most likely is the cause of the cyst.  The cyst that pumped my body full of progesterone as it dissipated acting like a inborn fertility drug.  A schedule that caused me to not be taking meds like I normally would.  All leading to:

Photo is from yesterday, April 27, 2011

That, my friends, is my baby.  And suddenly all my weight loss plans and my "I don't know if now's the right time" thoughts just disappeared and all I could think was, "You and I are going to have a wild ride."  For those who'd like the math, ma petite escargot is due around Thanksgiving.  They're estimating the 24th of November.  G will be home at the beginning of the third trimester---just in time for daily foot rubs and lots of him running up and down the stairs for me! 

These past weeks I imagine I've not been the best blogger.  For days I've just been in awe and sort of not sure what to write, and while I hope that didn't continue too horribly I'm sure there were many delays.  I hope that you can now understand why.  We're thrilled, and I have certainly never felt more beautiful.  I'm going to be attempting to not focus on our little snail, but occasionally as we go along show you how I take my style from normal to poppin'!  And I'm really hoping that by now I'm able to eat things other than fruit, cheez-its and pickles, so that we can discuss eating in a healthy but still delicious way."

I obviously wrote that a bit ago.  So you see, my dear readers I haven't been exactly running myself ragged.  It's just that growing a person is somewhat of an exhausting task.  And the only way I could think to mask it was to let everyone think I was simply taking on too much. (and avoid spilling the beans that I sleep all. the. time.)

Telling G was the most amazing moment.  His shock and happiness were so audible we were in complete heaven.  And while technically we're still not out of the highest risk period, we've hated keeping it quiet, and yesterday I got to witness the baby actually moving about, kicking it's little legs (I didn't even know they were all that active this early!).  I am currently 10 weeks along, and though I wanted to wait until the end of this first tri-mester, both G and I have been busting at the seams to tell the world our good news.  Right around Thanksgiving this year we'll become a family of three.

Our cup runneth over.  And if this baby isn't the best representation of our love, I'm not sure what is. 

Love Part 1

My friends and I talk relationships a lot, as we all have had issues with our significant others at one point or another.  With new friends it can be that awkward moment.  Because what they've seen is this cute couple who is crazy about one another.  When a friend needed advice I was honest about the fact that we've had major issues before.  And when I was asked how bad it got I was bluntly honest to a point I seriously thought, "These girls are going to think I'm a super monster bitch and never want to hang out with me again."  Because where G has failed in following through on his words I have more than made up with choice words of my own.  (And throwing things, which I think I've finally learned is a bad idea when it results in laundry detergent sprayed all over the stairs and hallway.  Ahem.) 

The reality is, though, that we're in a good place.  We do fight occasionally and some days even with him halfway around the world I want to kill him.  But he's planning things for when he gets home (date nights!) and I'm continuing to apologize when I strike out with words.

Some people have been lucky and their love has been easy.  From what I have seen, that's a rarity.  Two people living together and going through life can be extremely messy.   But over time that becomes a beautiful mess as you learn where you need to change and where you need to learn acceptance.  It has been said that the road to hell is paved with good intentions.  I say the road to a long lasting marriage is paved with learning to forgive and try again.

My husband is an amazing man and probably the only person in the world who has seen my ugliest moments and still thinks I'm the most amazing woman he knows.  There is a deep love that is hard to explain to others, it is the foundation for why we keep trying.  It used to be that he was this lovesick guy who was crazy about me but I couldn't be bothered.  It still amuses me how crazy in love with him I still am, even when I'm super mad.  I think he holds the moon, basically.  And even when he messes up I keep going because I know in his heart he really wants to be better, but we all fall sometimes.

Love is a deeply complicated and all too simple thing.  And coming up on our 4th anniversary I can say for certain for the first time I have absolutely no doubts that I made the best decision of my life the day I chose this boy.  It's been a rough ride but one I'd do all over again. 

People Versus Things

Which matters most?  There are a gazillion to-dos still on our list of things to get done before G leaves.  We might get 2 or 3 done tops.  We bought bookshelves that may sit in their boxes in the office for months and months before they're built.  Because after all of the hullabaloo of last night----from which I now have a sparkling organized first floor (living room/kitchen/dining room)---- we could spend all day breaking our backs again (both of us are as sore as if we had done a day at the gym), going through boxes.  But the reality is I value this last bit of time with my husband more than anything else.  So yes, the basement and spare room may be both full of boxes, but I've lived on my own before, I can handle it myself, and they matter so little to me right now.  I should call it my sanity mess.  The mess that will save me from the house feeling too empty, too put together.

And I'm typing this as we head out the door to eat at the Indian restaurant for the third time this week (can you tell what food G is going to miss?).  I usually have things messed up and value things and order over my relationships (just ask G who yesterday got a bit emotional before we started 6 hours of cleaning because he didn't want to fight and we always fight when we're doing a lot of organizing/cleaning).  But today I'm sitting back, being a bit introspective and realizing I may hate the mess when he's gone, but I'm going to miss him more.

Happy Love Day!

 Glitter Banner from Lovely Indeed

I hope everyone is having a wonderful day, full of love, even if it's only just basking in the fact that you adore yourself and those in your life.  G passed on whatever throat thing he had to me, and so we've kept it even more low key than we had originally planned.  Dinner for me has been a pretzel roll (a roll, but made like a pretzel) and a bowl with half a banana, a handful of blueberries, and some pecans.  Turns out the fruit and nuts are perfect together (I used a ration of one banana slice to one pecan half to 4 blueberries for the perfect bits, in case you were curious as to how OCD I can be!).

I was planning on printing out some free printables* to post around the house for G.  Instead I thought, wouldn't it be great to pick some out together.  So we sat down and went through all my downloads and came to the conclusion that it might be more fun to do a gallery wall of love.  The huge canvas I bought a year ago will have a poem or song lyrics painted on it.  Frames will host the free printables.  I'm going to make a banner with letters and glitter and ribbon.  And the best idea yet....we're going to go through our love letters and type up (on G's grandmother's typewriter) some excerpts.  The gallery wall will be either in the stairway up to our suite or up here in the suite, so it will be for us.  A daily reminder of love.  And of course we'll add photos too (we're planning to have some professionally taken once he's home) and drawings/artwork.  I've drawn G before, and if I can get him to sit still enough (or take a photo to use) I'm going to do a drawing of him for the wall as well.

I am not a fan of Valentine's Day.  I think it's commercial and sets too high of expectations (and that usually results in disappointment).  But I do love LOVE.  I told G we weren't doing cards, instead I shared some with him I had found that were funny.  But today he showed up with a card about bursting with love and a copy of the March issue of Veranda and told me he got be a subscription.  To me, that's love, knowing there is something I've been wanting for months and doing it all on his own.  I think that this LOVE gallery wall may end up on the long wall that runs nearly the length of our home.  We have lots of love to show! 

*If you're ever in need of good DIY/crafty ideas as well as free printables, OnePrettyThing has a ton of them from all over the internet.  Daily groupings and you can search for something specific you're interested in to see if she has a link to something or look through the categories.  I check this at least once daily, usually thrice (she updates all throughout the day). 

Reason 363,480 I Am Gonna Miss This Boy

Moi:  "I worry that I dress too old.  I mean, I do have a grandma sweater.  And enough scarves that smell like my grandmama."

G: "Nah, you just dress classically elegant.  Most women our age don't.  That doesn't make you old."

*sigh*  I love this boy who is turning into a man.  I love that we both love the grey coming into each other person's hair.  I find his distinguished and he thinks mine is kind of sexy.  He likes to watch me age.  He listens to me bemoan tiny wrinkles.  He doesn't judge as I contemplate botox.  Nor does he ever encourage me to look any different than I do right in whatever moment I'm in.  As I fret about my weight or my grey hairs he grabs my face and tells me I am beautiful.  And no matter what I think I know it must be true because he believes it.

We may not be a perfect love.  From the outside looking in we may come across as a confusing mess.  But no matter where the road may lead I have always known that this is a Great Love.  The kind so many I know are searching for.  The kind where affirmation comes from knowing you are with someone who thinks you hang the moon.....and will remind you when you're acting a fool.  The kind where even as young as we are, we can anticipate the others' thoughts and moods.  We finish each others' sentences.  We laugh because one has said what the other was thinking in such an exact way as to be eerie, and call exactly as the other was picking up the phone.  I will often grab my phone to make sure it's close only a minute before it rings and it's him and that moment is perfection.  Bubbly laughing and knowledge of a person that is rare in this life.  He is the witness to my life and I am his.  And though it may seem confusing it's a pretzel and a reflection because he is my life, so while watching me he is witnessing his own self reflected back.

I have written so many posts about my feelings on him leaving.  In the dark hours of the morning when I am sad.  Before I curl up on his chest and whisper, "Please don't leave me."  Before we discuss running away to Canada, with G always pointing out that they now would extradite us.  "Oh, not if we lived so far north that not even the Canadians would go there," I respond.  I write the posts and I save them as a testament to these moments.  Where the fear is alive, and the heartbreak is painfully real.  G mentioned yesterday that I seem so relatively calm, and I responded "yes, until it's dark and the darkness seeps in."

I will miss him in a way where I am sure I will feel lost.  As long as I keep busy and moving I will be able to breathe.  But the dark of night scares me.  The moments where I can't sleep and there is no one to awaken for a 3 a.m. game of 20 questions.  So as strong as I may seem during the day hours, when life is light and full of color, please know, I am not cold, I am not as okay as it may seem.  But because this is a Great Love, I will live.

Blackbird

So today a friend posted on facebook a couple lines from the song Blackbird (originally by The Beatles).  I had been watching "I Am Sam" a month or so ago, and Sarah McLachlan sings it on the soundtrack and I just love it.  

"Take these broken wings and learn to fly.  All your life you were only waiting for this moment to arise." 

This song has some meaning for me, as I stumble down the road of self-acceptance.  I'm in a complicated marriage (best friends growing up together still) where problems are heightened because it's becoming increasingly noticeable that the house is too big for two and that no pet can really fill that void.  But at the same time we're taking baby steps, learning to communicate better.  I'm growing and changing and learning I have to let people in to see me, that breaking down sometimes is necessary to build upwards (basically I actually allow myself to cry rather than fighting it so hard I burst).  I've been as transparent as I can be on this blog, even at times fearful of the repercussions of those I know seeing more of me.  But my main goal for 2011 is to be me with no apologies and no acquiescences to being someone I'm not.  I figure if the person closest to me knows all of me darkness and light and still loves me fiercely than I'm okay.  

My Christmas wish for all of you is that you have that in your life.  Someone who loves every nook and cranny, all the complicated crevices we have as human beings.  And that you search for the light within you but don't feel shamed by the darkness, the moments of imperfection.  That you learn that failing at something does not mean you're a failure.  And that as cheesy as it sounds, yes, all you need is love. 

I probably will not be posting again until after Christmas as I have a list as long as my arm, a dinner party, and a baby brother plus birthday to prepare for. 

Merry Christmas to you and yours. 

4 a.m.

I'm a late night owl lately, eh?  The reality is time has been good to me.  I came home from the conference refreshed, ready to give it the old college try and be a better wife.  I won't say there haven't been arguments, we're still working out the kinks.  But the one thing that hit me at the conference even more than the infertility issues, and continues to hit me anytime I falter is how blessed I am to have G.  How much this man is trying to step outside his comfort zone and just love me in ways he didn't know how.  And in return I'm letting go, I'm falling in love with him all over again.  His stupid exaggerated stories that I know he'll some day tell our children as if he really did get lost in the woods and nearly starve to death before coming across civilization.  The way he bats his eyelashes at me and gives me the puppy look.  The way he's becoming a man and becoming comfortable in his own skin.  

I stopped expecting flowers, because the boy is a mess sometimes and will second guess himself into insanity.  Instead we went to the florist and I picked out 15 burgundy carnations that are gorgeous and make me happy and I don't care that he didn't pick them up for me.  I'm meeting him halfway, accepting there are simply some things he might not ever get good at (but I'm keeping my fingers crossed as his confidence grows).  

It's 4:40 and I am just filled with love.  We've spent the last 2 weeks learning to just express our love better.  More make-out sessions in the kitchen, more late night talks in the dark, more of what we had once so long ago neither of us can remember without it being hazy.  And he's asleep and I get to curl up around him and hold him like he always holds me and listen to him breathing.  Like he breathes the life into me.  And it's beautiful and it's scary because what on earth am I gonna do for 6 months by myself?  Start talking to the puppies?  

Okay, I do that already.

But whatever, cause time is good, and he's here and I'm here and we're following my mantra of "I only have today" (G's been repeating it like Rain Man).  My cup may be cracked and has been reglued a time or two, but believe me when I say it runneth over. 

On This Journey

G and I have been connecting more lately.  I will admit this came after a doozy of an argument.  He told me that that night was the first time in a long time he admitted to himself that he wasn't doing as much as he thought he was, and that he wasn't being the husband he wanted to be.  For me, this meant I couldn't be the wife I wanted to be.  I tried to just go with it, but it wasn't working.  But since then, we've both been making more effort.  

Last night at Barnes and Noble as we were leaving I spied a misplaced book called The Fantasy Book.  Flipping through it out of curiosity I was surprised to find it was a book for couples.  Now, with the title I assume you are thinking it's a dirty book, but it's not really.  Sure there are quite a few excerpts about sex, but it is a book that you leave for your partner, with the bookmark in the page you want them to read.  Some pages have envelopes, some just a task.  The first one in the book is "Write me a love letter."  The instruction page simply has the task at the top with this written underneath:

"If I were to find an envelope with my name written in your hand I would savor the weight and the touch of it and wonder what persuasive words lay inside."

Sexy, right?  Though the book has other tasks, and some just simply don't interest me, this was the first and the reason I thought it might be interesting.  We plan to photo copy the inserts for the envelope pages so we can do this more than just the once (since you write on the cards).  But I am excited for the possibility of love letters the way G and I used to write them.  While we were engaged we were on separate continents and even though we spoke nearly every day we wrote pages of love letters that we keep in our fireproof box.  I feel sorry for whomever tries to rob us and takes that since that's all that's really in there and I would hunt them down!

So this morning after the farmer's market we headed out to do some shopping.  We stopped at Marshall's and picked up some balsamic vinegar, some pesto, and 3 mason jars of dilly beans (pickled green beans that are delicious, if you like pickles).  We also snagged a couple leather 2011 planners (mine if purple, G's is smaller and black) that are the same brand sold at Barnes and Noble.  But our biggest acquisition was at TJMaxx, and is a wooden box that looks romantic that we thought would be great for a post box.....for each other.  We can leave love letters to one another as surprises!  What do you think?

2 a.m.

My husband will tell you I fight sleep as much now as my maman says I did when I was a baby.  It's not that I don't love sleep.....once I'm asleep I like to stay that way.  It's just, my mind tells me that this life is short and I shouldn't waste a second.  And I keep coming up with other things I want to do.  Even at 3 a.m. I can often be found reading or singing and dancing.  The other night at 2 a.m. I did a complete interpretive dance for G and Sophie (Audrey was so over it).  I got lost in the moment, and my feet knowing instinctively that I needed this release didn't cause me pain, even as I leaped about, balancing on my toes. 

I've needed this.  This burning inside.  My fingers ache to dance across the strings of my violin as much as my feet ache to have a whole studio to myself.  I've been keeping so much inside this year, trying to process the things we've dealt with/are dealing with.  Some I've shared.  Some nobody knows but G, because some things are best kept between "the shadow and the soul."  But processing it is painful at times.  Sometimes I don't want to face myself.  Sometimes it's hard staring at the one person you love more than yourself and hurting because you are trying so hard to keep everything together that you've forgotten that the beauty of marriage is having someone through good times and bad.  Sometimes we forget to speak, afraid of being the weak one.  So I've needed the release, the physical act of dancing until I cannot think anymore to allow me to break it all down. 

I have only begun to become the woman I want to be.  Baby steps, learning to trust myself, trust my own voice.  And G's there beside me, learning himself.  It's a dance, and we're stumbling but laughing.  

My Rock, My Home

"I will never be a stranger.  I will never be alone.  Cause deep inside of me I know that wherever you are, is home."  -- Dave Barnes, Home

This is to G.  My rock.  The man who I am excited to watch grow from the boy I first knew into a man I am proud to be married to.  Slowly.  Baby steps.  But he's reaching and finding his ground.  We spent our quiet moments together this last weekend just being.  We spoke little, cherished many moments.  A stolen kiss in the kitchen.  A whispered conversation in the dark.  Dreams of the future and the here and now.  

And suddenly my heart feels different.  Suddenly I feel all grown up.  He's far from perfect and I'm far from a picnic to live with.  But here we are.  And I have never felt happier or more at peace.  Suddenly God's whispers to my heart make sense and I realize that the home I always wanted I've found in him, through Him.  And for the first time it's more than just words.  I'm home.  

I love you Bunny.  To Vega and back.