From that Man I Call Mine

"I've been thinking a lot about our life
together. I'm proud of our 8 years together, even if we can't be
together today.

I certainly remember meeting you, talking to you in the Institute,
dancing with you, holding your hand for the first time. You stand out
in my memory as the most impressive, attractive woman I've ever met.

When I think of what was probably our first date, the one where we
went back to your house and talked for hours about hiking, traveling
and who knows what else. I remember talking about climbing
Timpanogos, you told me you had hiked to the top a number of times
with your dad and I was impressed. I fell in love with you then.

It's hard to say exactly what it was about you that night that
attracted me so much, but it's clear that it was substantive because
it endured through the months we spent apart after that, including the
months I spent in Costa Rica without you and could hardly communicate
with you. We were able to enjoy two months together 24/7 without
getting bored or irritated with each other. I found that amazing.
And it has persisted through 8 years of marriage.

You're beautiful. I thought you were pretty when I noticed you in
class. You stood out with your mixture of good looks, confidence and
personality.

While I was in Costa Rica without you I realized that you were worth
investing in. I remember noticing other women in Central America and
realizing that I didn't see any as interesting or appealing as you,
and that you were so alluring that I wasn't interested in any other
woman. That was a novel feeling then. But it dawned on me that if
things worked out while we were together in Central America that you
would probably be the woman I married.

I don't know why I remember some things much more clearly than
actually asking you to marry me. I remember walking down that dirt
road out in the cloud forest in Monteverde and how hard we laughed
when we realized that we had some conflicting expectations about the
future. We had talked for hours about moving to China to teach
English. After talking extensively about it, it must have occurred to
me that there was a disconnect. I said, "I heard we could make a lot
of money teaching English in China." Your response, "You can do that
for money?"

I remember being with you as we crossed the border into Nicaragua and
then explored Granada and Leon. It was unforgettable being with you
when we visited the Boy's Home, swam in Lake Nicaragua, and learned
all about the culture and challenges of life in that country. I must
have been thinking more about spending the rest of my life with you
than actually asking you to marry me. That's probably why it was
anticlimactic when I did ask. And despite some cold feet later, I was
committed.

You remember better than I do that I expressed some anxiety about
getting married, but that also doesn't stand out to me. When I think
about that period as we became engaged and made plans to get married,
I know that I felt more confident and comfortable about our
relationship than I had felt about any relationship I had had since
1994 (when you were in elementary school). I had intentionally been
shallow and superficial with virtually every woman I'd met until I met
you and we latched onto each other during our trip.

That was me falling in love with you."

Awwwwww. Did you melt? Right now I'm just one gooey puddle of sappy melted love.

Eight is Great

I bought you a tree. Black Mission Fig--your favorite. It's just a little thing, and we won't live here long, but who knows? We've been so lucky in love, maybe we'll lucky in figs.
Happy anniversary Nate. I sure am crazy about you.

Granada

Within hours I'd given you my shoes.
Within days I'd given him my heart.

Breakfast of Champions

I baked a chocolate cake. The result was something so dense and foreign I hesitate to call it cake at all. For the sake of my pride I did my best to make it look like I'd done it on purpose. I sliced it up, dried it out, and renamed it "chocolate crackers." Then I served it to my kids for breakfast. A dollop of peanut butter, a slice of banana, and voila! Brain food.

Ignore the mountain of trash erupting behind their pretty little heads. Or don't. I'm over it. The rest of my kitchen looks like this. The overflowing garbage can goes with the decor.

It is important to note, however, that our home is not often in such a state. I've been laid up for two days with strep throat, and except for one quick trip to the grocery store for some Chamomile tea and a large bottle of antibiotics the kids have been on their own. All things considered things could be much worse. Nothing's flooded or burned to the ground--I'm counting my blessings.

I'll say this though, the once tight-knit sweater called my sanity is beginning to unravel. In addition to this,

(yes, that's the new half-gallon of milk I purchased and subsequently misplaced. Finally found it in the cupboard, warm and spoiled, right where I left it), I found my recent visit to the local understaffed and under-sanitized (but who am I to judge?) Urgent Care a restful opportunity to sit down and take a load off. You know things are bad when having your throat cultured feels comparable to a day at the spa!

Lucky for me, I've only got to hang on a little longer. We're in the home stretch--40 days and counting folks. So hurry home sweetie. I'm about to lose it and there's mopping to be done!

You Know You're an Army Wife When...

you go to the medicine cabinet for cough drops but all you can find are 30 bottles of 800mg IBUPROFEN.

Your turn ladies--keep it going! You Know You're an Army Wife When...

Words that Mattered

My dad wrote this letter to me the first time I climbed Y mountain on my own. I was eight years old. Dang near made it to the top too. I've read it at least a million times. Thanks Dad.

So We Kinda Got Another Dog

Another big dog (and muddy too!). Meet Duke. He belongs to our elderly neighbors who are having a hard time caring for him because they are in poor health. I offered to keep him over here to entertain Aggie. The dogs each weigh nearly 200 lbs. It's intimidating to be caught in the middle of one of their wrestling matches, but they are having a blast!

We Met in Spanish Class

Nate, David, Me

David and I were talking. Nate, who sat a row away, leaned over to "shush" me. I'd never been shushed by a peer before. Teachers and parents sure, but never a gorgeous 24 year old man. It was embarrassing and infuriating all at the same time.

Deployment: It's Like Mono Without the Kissing

This morning I experienced a complete shut down of all systems and slept as I've never slept before.

My mind registered the rising sun, the restless children, the dizzying shouts of another episode of Yo Gabba Gabba, but I found myself incapable of acting upon these "rise and shine" cues.

Twice I surfaced from the swampy depths of my unconscious--first to mutter "yesanothermovieyeah," and once when the familiar clink-clink of the sugar bowl led my weighted eyelids to flutter as I hollered "stayoutofthesugar!" before being sucked back into the abyss of inescapable slumber.

When I finally woke, the children were preparing lunch for themselves and sabotaging each other's water glasses with sneaky rattles of the salt shaker. It was 11:14 a.m. Surprisingly, I felt rested, renewed. I'd almost forgotten what that's like.

Another surprise--it seems I've taken up sleep walking. I went to bed in my underwear, and woke up in my underwear and a sweater vest.

(Don't) Be the Wheat*

Today Frankie spotted the paring knife I was using to slice peaches and asked "Is that a little baby knife?"

"Well, yes," I said, "but it's not for little babies. So don't you touch it!"

Looking up with wide worried eyes she asked "Because it has gluten?"

Yes Frances. Forget steel blades, gaping wounds, and severed arteries. It's the gluten you need fear. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

________________________________________

Frankie weighs 28 pounds.That's nine more than she weighed five months ago when we began her gluten-free diet. Woot woot! Looks like ol' "Failure to Thrive" can kiss my a--.

*I really should quit using inside jokes in my blog titles.

If at First You Don't Succeed

try try again.


PS. In case you're worried, Asher's not flailing about (once he makes it to the water that is) because he can't swim. He's only putting on "a play about a baby in the 8 feet with no floaties!" And no, that game doesn't terrify me, uh-uh, not a bit.

Almost There

If this doesn't move you to tears, I mean the wild, snotty, can't-catch-your-breath kind, then I give up.

Wishing

Seven

The day you were born was a happy day indeed. Oh Jensie Lissette, you are the first one I loved.

The Bigger Man

Two weeks ago a member of my church was attacked and repeatedly stabbed by a 16 yr old neighbor. His dad (let's say his name is Jack) is a member of our bishopric (local church leadership).

The day after the attack Jack shared some thoughts on forgiveness with us in sacrament meeting. He told us that upon arriving at the Emergency Room where doctors we're attending to his son in ICU, his first act was to say a prayer for the attacker.

Why? Because he could only imagine the atrocities that must have occurred in that young man's life that would have led him to become so violent and hateful. And Jack prayed that someone would love that boy and that the boy would be healed and know that God loved him still.

Jack's a retired soldier who has served two tours of duty overseas and has worked long and hard to become a proficient killer. As a father, he'd always assumed that if anyone ever hurt his children he'd hunt them down and hurt them right back. But instead, he prayed. He prayed and prayed.

The moral? God makes us better people than we could ever hope to be on our own.