One of my good days...

I don't write an abundance of posts about my husband. As a rule, he is not a huge fan of all of his business going public. I probably don't talk about him enough. I probably don't talk to him enough. I believe we are in that stage of our marriage where sometimes we have to make an effort to have an actual conversation.  I still like him most days, but there are chores, animals, sports events, piano lessons, spilled drinks, and homework all vying for our attention at every turn. Those things come when we are not working at our day jobs. Sometimes I have to remind myself that all of these things began with us. That we need to talk about more than whether or not we need dog food or bread once in a while.

He recently turned thirty-five years old. We had a Chiefs birthday cake, and they thanked us by winning in overtime that day. In honor of his birthday, I wanted to be sure to stop and be grateful for him.  I know if you look at him on any given day, you will see a guy in Carhartt jeans and a t-shirt. Don't let him fool you. He may look predictable, but he is a man of many layers. His iPod has a lot of old country music on it, but you will also find rap. He believes in doing most things the old fashioned way, but he gets online every day to keep updated on his favorite websites. He can really tear up the kitchen, but he cooks fish like a rock star, and can make pie crust or cinnamon rolls from scratch. He believes in traditional values and fair fights. He believes in taking care of his family and his animals. He takes time for his children, and he makes me laugh almost every day. I try hard to make good decisions, but some days I don't always do the right thing.  I make mistakes on a pretty regular basis. I guess I am just saying that I am pretty sure the day I said yes to this guy was one of my good days.

Just Letting It Be

I have loved Kevin for as long as I can remember. I know people talk about falling in love and falling out of love and everything, but I don't think I know what that means. I don't remember an instant when it smacked me over the head and I was helpless to his charms or anything...and so I don't believe in the possibility that I could wake up one day and find that my feelings from the last 20 years of my life have vanished, either. I realize it all started out as 13-year-old girl's crush, but eventually I stopped focusing on the cute boy on the basketball court and began to consider the man he would become. I started thinking about what kind of husband he might be someday, and what kind of father he could be. I knew he would teach them to fish when they were old enough. I imagined he would teach them to shoot, both guns and basketballs. I was right about all of that. He also teaches them about animals and gardening and building things. He manages to teach them about responsibility and fun all at once. You can choose a person to be with for the rest of your life, and you can think you know they will be a good dad, but really, you have to hope they pan out as a parent. I mean, how can you really know for sure until those babies come along?

In honor of Father's Day, I can honestly tell you now...he is pretty great at it. Maybe he could have changed more diapers. Maybe he could have elected not to teach Jaron to ride his bike with no hands. Nobody is perfect. When our kids bring their broken bikes to him, he fixes them. When he is leaving, and they want to go with him, he takes them. When they cry, he comforts them. When they want to snuggle with him to fall asleep, he lets them. He praises and encourages, and when it works out he is always proud of their accomplishments. I think he has all the important stuff down. I'm just saying, I think love worked out for me. Not falling in it or out of it. Just letting it be.

Just Like Me

One of my favorite things about hunting has nothing to do with shooting a deer. When I go deer hunting, Kevin walks me to my blind or tree stand in total darkness before going off to his. I settle in as quietly as I can, close my eyes, and wait for sunrise. Everything is hushed and solemn and serene. Not silent, but hushed. In these moments it is easy to forget about laundry and dishes and trying to build up vacation time at work. There are no worries. There is only peace. And possibilities. And hope. Slowly the woods start to come to life, anticipating the dawn. Squirrels start to scurry from branch to branch. Birds start to chirp and sing. Turkeys gobble. Owls hoot. If you are in the right place, the deer slowly make their way to their feet, shake themselves off, and crunch through the fallen leaves to step out into range. I think most hunters will tell you similar versions of what they would consider to be the perfect hunt. For me, it would go something like this:

On October 30, 2010, Madison went on her very first deer hunt. Hunting is not something that happens spontaneously. Preparation is involved. Kevin is not one to take someone hunting before they are capable and ready, so Madison had practiced with her rifle, an AR 223, and proven herself to be accurate (by accurate I mean repeatedly hitting a target smaller than a baseball from 100 yards). Kevin and Madison worked together in the garage to build a table from plywood and 2X4s, and he asked his grandmother to sew up some denim so he could make sand bags. Now she would be able to have a sturdy place to rest her gun as she shot. Prior to opening morning, we set up the blind complete with the table, sand bags and seating, and everything was all set.

The morning of the hunt, we were all up by 5:30. We delivered the non-hunting kids to Grandma's house. We parked the truck and walked about 500 yards to our blind. We quietly took our seats and settled in to wait. Soon after we could see into the field of clover, a buck deer slowly approached our blind as he grazed. The angle out of our "window" was not exactly right, and we had to move Madison's table and her seat to let her get the best chance at a shot. Leaves rustled during this process, causing the deer to throw his head up and look in our direction more than once. Most deer, with more age and intelligence, would have ran away about three times in the 30 seconds it took us to get Madison adjusted. But he just stood there as Kevin asked, "Do you see him in the scope yet? Do you see him?" She said no a few times until the excited whisper, "Oh, Dad! I can see him!" He said, "You need to shoot him as soon as you are sure!" The words had barely escaped his mouth when she fired her gun. It was the exclamation point to his instruction. In his very next breath, he said, "Oh! Good shot, Madison!" Because that deer fell over like a sack of potatoes. We all but tore the door off of our blind getting out to go see him up close. And then there were pictures and high fives. And hugs. Madison and I are girls, after all. She ran all the way back to the truck at full speed. It was the perfect hunt. Big on antlers and excitement. Small on waiting and waiting to see anything, and small on suffering--for the deer. On my slower walk back to the truck, it became obvious to me that Madison is already irrevocably hooked on two things: hunting and her daddy. Just like me.

Viva Las Vegas!

When we got married we said we would return to Las Vegas every five years or so. Well, five years went by like a holiday weekend, and in the meantime I had all but forgotten about those plans. I never even brought it up. I don't know if I have mentioned before that my husband is generally opposed to spending money in most situations. Relative to some of my purchases, he sometimes feels obligated to question the level of necessity involved. So Kevin came home from work one day and said, "I think we should go to Las Vegas." I laughed. I mean, usually when we take a trip, I plan everything and I calculate the cost and it usually takes some convincing. When Kevin mentions a trip involving airfare, hotel, and shows...the only explanation I can come up with is that he is joking with me. Except he wasn't. He began researching travel and airline websites. He chose the hotel we liked the most when we were there before. He planned this trip. My girlfriend said, "I think the fact that this is all his idea is just as big of a deal as the fact that you are going!" So true. I am not going to lie about it, I felt guilty for leaving the kids for five days. Excluding them from the fun and imposing on the family...almost like I should be hot lined. But after packing all of the bags and saying all of the goodbyes, the real excitement began to set in. I quickly reasoned that extra time with Grandma was hardly punishment for them and began to think about what this would mean for us. How strangely liberating it was to be able to travel and make decisions based solely on whatever we would like to do! We could eat anywhere without considering the kids' menu. We could be gone from our hotel all day without worrying about having enough diapers or extra changes of clothes. There were no worries about naptime or strollers.

We saw everything we could see. We saw the pirate show at Treasure Island and the dancing fountains at the Bellagio. We saw Criss Angel's "Believe" show up close and personal at the Luxor and went to Shark Reef at Mandalay Bay. We went on a tour of Hoover Dam. We visited Lake Mead. We shopped. We swam. We said hello to Pete Rose. The real person...not an impersonator. We ate when we were hungry, and we slept when we were tired. We talked about the things the kids would have enjoyed and the things they definitely would not have enjoyed. We walked a lot. We took the city bus and the monorail. We remembered our wedding trip and marvelled about all the changes that have taken place over the past decade. It was an awesome trip. Trust me, there are several scrapbook pages just waiting to happen right now.

Daddy Doesn't Read Books

I keep a book in my purse almost all the time. I read when I am waiting at the doctor or dentist, the license bureau, and during lunchtime at work. Just this week, I read a book on the plane to and from Las Vegas and while waiting at the airport. I love to read books. Kevin does not. His faithful reading includes some news websites for serious Kansas City Chiefs fans. He checks those sites every single day without fail. He knows which KC players had the fastest running times...and who is wearing out their shoes with their quickness...and who caught how many balls in training camp...and who did not. Every day he knows this. However, he seldom reads a book.

Megan is starting to love books. I love how she seems to show preference and choose her favorite ones. Number one on the list is "Eight Silly Monkeys." She takes this book to everyone in the house, regardless of what they might be doing, and hands it to them over and over again until someone reads it to her. Madison and Jaron are usually close by and cooperative when she wants to read. They were outside one day when Megan discovered that Daddy will read to her as well. I was cooking in the kitchen when I heard Kevin say, "Megan, Daddy doesn't read books." Shortly after that I heard, "Eight silly monkeys jumping on the bed. One fell off and bumped his head." Well, this quickly became the pattern, and she was hooked. Now, when Daddy is in the house, she takes the book to him. He can be snoozing in his recliner, and she will climb up onto his lap, open the book, and wait expectantly for him to wake up and read. He always begins by saying, "Daddy doesn't read books." And then he does. The thing is, when our kids want a little bit of time with their daddy, he can't help but give it to them. It's one of my favorite things...the fact that Daddy does read books.

All She Ever Wanted

This is the first picture taken of us as a married couple, outside of our wedding photos. I handed my camera to a stranger on top of the Stratosphere in Las Vegas the day after we got married. We have been married eleven years today. Our wedding was a compromise. He truly wanted to be married all by ourselves, such as at the courthouse. I wanted my grandma to make my wedding dress, and I wanted pictures. We both got our wishes. I got my other wish as well. You know, the one where you marry the person you love. The one where eleven years, two homes, and three kids later you still like each other most of the time. The girl in this picture had no idea what marriage would really be like. She thought she loved her new husband, but she had no idea that the sad times and scary moments would be the ones to strengthen their relationship the most. She had no idea how thoroughly bringing children into the world together could multiply her feelings for him. She had yet to hold his hand at a loved one's funeral or watch him approach her carrying their daughter, with both little arms encircling his neck and her face lit up like a Christmas tree. She had yet to watch him playing baseball with the big kids in the yard after a long, hot day at work. The last eleven years have found her richly blessed with love, laughter, and family. I am confident those are all of the things the girl in this picture ever wanted.

The First Anniversary

November fifteenth is the first anniversary Kevin and I ever had. At this time every year I look back and think about the beginning of us. I think back and try to remember what led to the moment when he and I turned into we. How does a blushing teenager with a crush turn into a 31-year-old wife and mother of three children? This is the anniversary of a night spent watching basketball. It was a crowded night in the school I attended for thirteen years with whistles blowing, the score clock buzzing, and the crowd cheering. This is not the anniversary with the rings. This is the anniversary of the night when he turned three shades of red as he considered the best way to find out if we felt the same way about each other. He seemed to find the courage somewhere in his Mountain Dew when finally settled on, "Okay. Will you be my girlfriend?" And my life was changed forever.

As I consider the things I am most thankful for, my first thought is that of course the important things in my life are not things. I am thankful that I got to marry the only boy I ever loved. I am thankful for the families we came from, and the way they are surrounding our children with the same love we grew up with. I can't wait for this holiday season to spend time with all of those people who love us most as we count our blessings together!

Steak and Cake

Today is my husband's birthday. I would like to write about the elaborate gifts I have wrapped up for him and the detailed list of celebratory events I have planned. The truth is, yesterday I got him the biggest bag of DumDums you have ever seen at Sam's. He has a very serious need for football candy on Sundays. And this evening I will grill him a steak and bake him a potato. Afterwards he will have a small, beautifully decorated cake (that I plan to pick up at Wal-Mart after work). And that's it. Happy Birthday #32.

In considering what to say about him today I keep thinking of a song that was one I planned to have at our wedding. It is not a famous song. It is "I Do" by Paul Brandt and it is on my iPod. I listened to it today in a "remember to love and appreciate my husband" kind of way. I still like it. And I still feel this way about Kevin and I. And I realize how blessed I am that he is still having birthdays.

I've seen the storm clouds in your past
But rest assured 'cause you are safe at home at last
I rescued you, you rescued me
And we're right where we should be when we're together

I know the questions in your mind
But go ahead and ask me one more time
You'll find the answer's still the same
It won't change from day to day for worse or better

Will I promise to be your best friend?
And am I here until the end?
Can I be sure I have been waiting for you?
And did I say my love is true?

Baby I will, I am, I can, I have, I do

I know the time will disappear
But this love we're building on will always be here
No way that this is sinking sand
On this solid rock we'll stand forever

Will I promise to be your best friend?
And am I here until the end?
Can I be sure I have been waiting for you?
And did I say my love is true?

Baby I will, I am, I can, I have, I do

Just between us girls...

There is something about watching a big, tough man be gentle that melts a woman's heart in a way nothing else can. I was thinking about how funny it is that young men (actually men of all ages) try to show off their strength and abilities when they are trying to impress the girls. They want big muscles and big trucks and big houses and big wallets full of big bills. They want to find the biggest Indian artifact or catch the biggest fish or shoot the biggest buck or trap the biggest bobcat. They think those are the things that will impress the girl of their dreams. I really don't think we should tell them that they could make us proud with far less effort on their part. Just between us girls, I am appropriately proud of my big, strong man and all, but the most impressive sight I have seen in a long time has nothing to do with anything huge and manly. My big, tough man looks most impressive to me when he has a grip on one of his more tiny accomplishments. And all he has to do to impress her is watch her blow bubbles.

Prince Charming

My husband has never really been my Prince Charming. To begin with, I have never considered myself to be a damsel in distress. If you were to look back over my history, you would not find impossibly locked towers or poisoned apples or wicked step-family members. What you would find is a mom who was always supportive even when I did not make the most outstanding decisions. You will find a dad who always fixed whatever ailed my car, sometimes without my ever knowing anything was wrong first. You will find a sister who was always available to laugh or cry with me as the situation deemed necessary. You will find a brother who has always been the tiniest bit over-protective. Math has never really been my favorite thing, but when I add all of that up I get a girl who has always known that there were people who loved her.

Kevin is rarely moved to break out grand romantic gestures. He is not a guy who sends me flowers for no reason. His idea of helping around the house is to hire a teenage girl to come over and work for me. I pick out the majority of gifts I receive for the major holidays. I have friends who ask if this particular aspect of our relationship bothers me...and I can honestly say it does not. I like choosing things for myself that I know I will enjoy or use. Would I be pleasantly surprised to get flowers from Kevin on a Wednesday in January? Yes. Do I need them to know he loves me? No. He may not be my Prince Charming, but one thing I know for sure is that he is the love of my life.

I have loved Kevin since I was thirteen years old. I loved his smile and the way he stood out on the basketball court but did not show off in a crowd. On November 15, 1991, he bought me a Mountain Dew at a junior high basketball tournament and asked me to be his girlfriend. I said yes. He gave me a heart shaped ring with the tiniest diamond chip for my fourteenth birthday. He gave me a ring six years later with some bigger diamonds and asked another important question. I said yes again. I love him for holding my hand when I was struggling to say good-bye to loved ones. I love him for making every day things fun and for making me laugh. I love him for not letting me wallow in a bad mood. I love him for playing with our kids on a daily basis. I love how the kids light up when they see him and how he shows excessive enthusiasm over their latest accomplishments. I love how we can have entire conversations without saying a word. I love that he loves hunting and fishing and how he has started sharing that with the kids(remind me of this during a busy time when I haven't seen him for days due to his being gone shooting or catching something). I love his soft spot for dogs and how he always seems to know what they need. I love how it embarrasses him when I brag about him.

Tomorrow is our tenth anniversary. I look around at friends and family who are divorcing and I can't help but wonder...what makes us different? How do I know that is not going to happen to us? Marriage may not always be what we expected. We may not be impressed with each other every single day. You know those conversations without words? They are not always love and sunshine. I do know that his cheek was against mine on three very important days when I had three very important surgeries resulting in the three most intricate and beautiful gifts that could have ever been given to me. We rarely spend time alone together these days, but loving our three precious children together in that fierce, blind, and protective way that only parents can know, I have never been more content in my life. And I still love his smile. Ten years of marraige and three kids later, we may never know what I would have done for that man if he had splurged for a candy bar to go with that drink!

stay-at-home dad

You know, my husband has never really been the primary caretaker of the children. If we were to tally up baths given, diapers changed, and meals prepared, I am confident that the majority of the little marks would register to my side of the paper. And he does not believe in putting Band-Aids on boo-boos that cannot be seen with the naked eye. And he does not require them to use sunscreen to step outside the door.

He likes to be the fun one. The one who does not enforce bedtime and lets them watch Spongebob. He has a large reserve of patience, most of the time, and as the kids get bigger they go with him more and more often to help him with anything and everything, as long as it is not dangerous. He does not mind that, while one would assume help would speed up his work, sometimes that "help" ends up making projects go much more slowly. At the same time, as I believe many men do, he has his own agenda. He tends to assume everything should take place in the time frame that he deems necessary and he believes that (dare I say it?) everything should, for the most part, revolve around his schedule. I once held up one hand and said to him, "This is not a universe where this is you and (while circling my other hand around the first one) this is the world!" to which he replied, "Oh, but it should be!"

Kevin hurt his back a several weeks ago at work. The first week he was off was rough. He was hurting bad. He was having back spasms. I threatened to obtain some big strong men to take him to the ER to get relief ASAP! At one point he was unable to get up and all I can really do for him in a situation like this if bring him something to eat or drink. He is 6'4" and weighs 240 pounds. There is no picking him up myself. The first few days he would tell me which channels were going to have the best movies on that day. I remember it was TBS one day and USA the next. He has been required to stay home for almost a month now. Gradually he has been getting better.

After that first week I started leaving the big kids home with him to let them have some quality time with Dad, and to save some of those babysitting dollars. I have to admit I was apprehensive. I also have to admit I sort of like things to be my way when it comes to the kids. There were a few things I noticed right away that were different than when I stay home with them, of course. A few extra bumps and bruises here and a slight sunburn there. Jaron's brand new Levi shorts, mud covered, in the laundry when his drawer is full of play clothes. Dads just do not do things the same way that moms do. I chose to ignore these things because there were additional matters to be noticed as well.

I came home one day to a swing hanging in the tree. With my kids sitting on it. Our swing set had been broken for awhile. I did not realize he had saved a swing to put up someday. I came home one day to find the swimming pool being set up in the yard. The kids LOVE to play in the water and jump in with reckless abandon. One day this week, our dog Max died. We think he had a heat stroke. Kevin set up the slip N slide that evening to help the kids cheer up a little bit. It worked. Kevin took the training wheels off of Jaron's bike and taught him to ride it without them. A couple days later he was pushing off without help.

They have helped him pick cherries, take care of animals, and put gutters on their great-grandma's house. He has taken them to the park. And he cooks for them. Not frozen dinners but bacon and eggs, pancakes, hamburger helper, and tenderloins. One night this week he has grilled steak and hot dogs for supper. Another night he fried chicken and made mashed potatoes and gravy. I think maybe I could get use to his being off work. He has been so carefree and relaxed that it makes me wish he could have more time off on a regular basis. I love being able to leave the kids in bed when I go to work instead of getting them up early. I love them being able to stay home and play. And swim. And ride bikes. I love that they are having a real summer vacation at home. I would love to be the one staying home with them for the summer. But I do not begrudge Kevin for having this opportunity. I can see the relationship between them solidifying before my eyes and it melts my heart. The card Madison made for her daddy for Father's Day says it all.

Iris June

I met Iris June when I was 17 years old. She was introduced to me as "Kevin's old babysitter." I was naive about a lot of things when I was 17. Okay, almost everything. I did not possess one solitary memory of having a babysitter. I had no concept of what that could mean. On the rare occasion that I was left with someone, my mom left me with my grandparents. I remember three very distinct first impressions stemming from this first meeting with Iris June. First, this woman was actually shorter than me! It is something you notice when you are 5'2". Second, she seemed like a nice lady(another point chalked up for my first impressions being so right on!). And third, it was obvious to me that she loved Kevin.

I was a teenager and I loved my boyfriend and I thought everything he said was funny and everything he did was impressive and adorable. Meeting his childhood babysitter, and seeing her look up at him and call him her "little Kevie" with a quiet, warm smile...well it made me wonder about all the things I did not know about him. All the cute little things he did growing up that made him into the person who would be the love of my life. She was there for most of that. And the more time I spent with Iris June, the more stories she told me. And the more I understood that "babysitter" was a very insignificant title for the role she played in his life. I started to understand that family is not something that requires blood ties and matching noses and eye color. She was a grandmother to him. She was a mother to him. She was a friend to him. He spent most days with Iris June and her husband, Joe, and spent the night often, too. She was monumental in his upbringing and could not have cared for him more lovingly if he had been her own baby.

She told me a story about how at bedtime she would snuggle Kevin up and knock on the headboard and say, "Go away, Sandman, you can't have my little Kevie! He's my boy!" She had to do it every time he spent the night. One night he decided he would protect her, too, and he knocked on the headboard and said, "Go away, Sandman, you can't have Iris June! She's my boy!" And she laughed. Her laugh could fill a room if not the entire house!

Another time she and Joe were teasing him by fighting over whose boy he was. Joe's boy or Iris June's boy. He finally said, "OK, Iris June. You can have my top half and Joe can have my bottom half!" She told him that would be good because she didn't want his stinky bottom anyway!

She and Joe taught Kevin a lot. He gardened with them. He went to church with them. He milked cows and put up hay with them. She got him to do things like sing solo in church, play the guitar, and crochet an afghan. He cooked and baked with her. Kevin loved them both very much. I have never heard him say a cross word about Iris June in the 18 years he has been in my life. She was his soft spot. His expression always melted into a whole new level of adorable when she was around. Over the years when I thought Kevin was misbehaving I would tell her maybe she should have spanked him more when he was little. She always said, "Oh, I never spanked Kevin! He never needed a spanking!" Just as she loved Kevin as a son, she loved my kids as her own grandchildren and did not miss any of their birthdays or Christmases even though I know she has not felt very well for some time now. When I told her I was expecting baby #3 she said, "Good. Two kids are not enough!"

I don't know what else I can say to do justice to this woman who, while she never delivered a child of her own, loved many children wholeheartedly. I have given birth to three of those children she loved, and I am married to another one of them. She loved people and baking and telling stories. And she was loved and treasured by all of us. I think the people who treasured her the most were the ones she cherished from the time they were babies. We visited Iris June in the hospital on Mother's Day. She was holding Megan when the nurse came in to check on her. The nurse asked if her lunch was okay and Iris June said, "It was fine, but this baby is my dessert!" Iris June was the dessert in my husband's life for his entire childhood. I am grateful for the love she has shown my family and I over the years. I am grateful for her contributions to the man I am sharing my life with. We will miss her always.

*********************************************************************

Madison

Jaron

Megan

hot date night?

Last week my girlfriend wrote a post about date night. It was about how significant date night use to be back in the day and how after marriage and children it tends to be pushed to the background. She misses date night. I related perfectly, of course. I had two main thoughts when I read her post. First, I was trying to remember the last date night Kevin and I had. We have had a lot of dates. We dated back in the day. I remember spending hours curling my hair and doing my nails and makeup and watching for him out the window. Secondly, I was thinking it would probably be awhile before he would be asking me to go out again. I mean, what would be the reason? February - Valentine's Day. August - Anniversary. Sometimes we make a day of Christmas shopping without the kids and that requires eating out alone together. But if I do not plan the event ahead of time it is probably not going to happen. Or so I thought.

I like it when he pleasantly surprises me. Saturday I got the invitation. "Do you want to ride to Columbia with me?" I thought that sounded like a date. When we left the house wearing perfume and cologne I thought it smelled like a date. When we dropped the kids off with Grandma I decided it looked like a date! Hot date night was ON! A calm and leisurely dinner with steak and salad and adult conversation is a hot date, right? It was so much better than the dates we had when we were teenagers. I am far from a size 3, and he does not give me my invitation with enough notice to spend hours on my appearance (not that I would now if he did). Even so, our relationship has grown into something I never could have imagined back then. I could never have imagined how love can evolve with a person when you bring children into this world together. I look across the table at him now and I don't dream about what our life could be like if we ended up together. I already know. Our daughter has his nose and mouth. Our son shares his love for fishing in the river. He would have been satisfied to stop at two kids but agreed to have another one because he knew it would make me happy. He is a good provider who does not make a habit out of missing work. And the patience he displays when teaching things to the kids by far surpasses any expectations I may have had. So while date nights are lower on quantity than they use to be, I believe they make up for it when it comes to quality.

Keeping that in mind, I still had some lingering questions I asked myself during the ride home. Is it still a hot date if you take a minivan? Is it still a hot date if it includes significant time in Bass Pro before dinner? Is it still a hot date if the state of your pregnancy requires that you must go pee upon arriving in Columbia, arriving at the restaurant, and again before leaving the restaurant? Is it still a hot date if he decides to practice with his new duck call on part of the drive home and you put your ear buds in to drown out the sound with your favorite tunes? I guess I still think it is and that is all that matters.

Costume Parties and Popcorn

Our microwave died. Most families might not be affected much by this change in their household, but at my house we miss it a little bit. While I intend to do meal plans ahead of time and properly thaw my meat products in the refrigerator...many times I get home from work and throw something in the microwave to defrost to become dinner 30 minutes later. In the last few months, Kevin and the kids have also taken to microwave popcorn. With the stove installation project going on, it has been awhile since we have enjoyed popcorn and it has not gone unnoticed by the little people in our house. I decided we can survive and put the microwave on our Christmas list or get one at the crazy, in the dark, day after Thanksgiving sales and have not given it much more thought. So last night as I was arranging my canned goods on my new shelving in the pantry closet (for those of you feeling my pain about my bedroom...that means the sour kraut is out of there now!!!), Jaron came in and said, "Daddy is going to make us some popcorn!" I heard him but did not really hear him...our microwave is dead.

Well, as of Saturday, our outdoor stove is all installed, fired up, and working beautifully! The kids' rooms and our bathroom have never been warmer! Our old system kept 2 rooms warm and the rest of the house cold, but now we have vents in every room and it has made a ginormous difference! However, I do not have all the closets put back together and the chaos conquered. I took a break from it all to do fun stuff on Sunday, so last night was my first opportunity to start moving things out of my bedroom. I put together my new shelving unit and assigned the kids to jar transportation duty. As I said, I was arranging jars in the closet by year and type of food, where Jaron could find me easily to update me on all the happenings of the house. So he came back in and said, "Daddy is making popcorn and it is popping on the floor!" Because things are a little crazy, I may be slightly overly sensitive when it comes to new messes being made in the house. I chose to stay on task and wait until later to validate Jaron's news. A few jars later, Kevin, the love of my life, stuck his head in on the way to the living room to enjoy his snack and shared, "When you cook popcorn on the stove you really need a lid." Part of me was once again astounded by the vast difference between the genders...yet part of me was too happy that they were having popcorn to care. Between Kevin having to get up in the attic and under the house and dragging all the tools in and out and me following him around with the shop vac for so long, I was just happy we are done!

Like I said, after we shared that collective sigh of relief that we have heat before winter, I decided to take a break and do some fun stuff. Mom and I put up my new border in the kitchen. After church we lounged and watched our team. Kevin went off to cut wood, and the kids and I took in the church Halloween party with the cousins(Daddy does not condone Jaron's costume, but Daddy was cutting wood, and Spiderman has a hole for me to sew before Trick-or-Treating, so we went with it, OK? He likes to pretend he is the Easter bunny!) It was great to enjoy the season and forget about home renovations. I still have a lot of sorting, purging, and organizing to do...and a baby to make room for. But we are warm and toasty and can still make time to kick back and enjoy some popcorn.

nine years ago today

Nine years ago today I flew in an airplane for the first time. Kevin and I flew to Las Vegas and got married. While planning a small, intimate wedding at home things kept growing and growing. I thought the planning was stressful and it was growing more and more expensive. One evening, while in deep planning mode I told Kevin, "We should just forget all of this stuff and go to Vegas!" We both laughed. As our laughter died down, though, we looked at each other with matching 'that might be something to consider' expressions.

We told my Dad what we had come up with and he perked up immediately and graciously offered, "I'll pay for it!" I wanted to make an informed decision so I asked about the plane, hotel, wedding, food, and souvenirs. He said, "Plane, hotel, wedding, food...no souvenirs!" How could we say no to a deal like that?

Nine years ago today we were waiting at our hotel for the limo to take us to the courthouse to get our marriage license, and then to the chapel for the wedding. I realized I had forgotten our birth certificates up in our room. I told Kevin to stay and wait for the limo and I would go get them because I knew right where they were in our suitcase. As I rushed up to our room to get them I heard someone shout, "Runaway bride!" I did not stop to correct him.

The wedding itself was wonderful. I have wondered sometimes what our wedding might have been like with all our family and friends there, but I am glad we did what we did. All we had to do was show up and make our vows to each other. It was fun. It was relaxed. It was beautiful. My Grandma Harvey made my dress. We had a private, traditional ceremony. We had flowers. We had pictures. We did NOT have an Elvis.

We stayed a week and were amazed by it all in a small town kids go to the city kind of way. We enjoyed seeing all the casinos. Kevin, always the carpenter, marveled at how things were built. We went to live shows full of comedy and singing and dancing (no naked girls). The first nickel I put in a slot machine made the thing go crazy and light up and ring the bell and nickels were flying everywhere. It was a machine called "Double Diamonds". I thought I had struck it rich! I won five dollars. That's a lot of nickels. We lost $20 to gambling in Sin City.

So, here we are, 9 years later. We have definitely had more good memories than bad ones. We have been blessed. I still love him, you know. I would marry him again. I am grateful for our home and our jobs and all of our family and friends close by. And our inquisitive, independent, and nurturing daughter. And our snuggling, bouncing, fun-loving son. And our baby on the way.

and then we got married

We spent Saturday--and I mean ALL of Saturday--at a slow pitch softball tournament. I thought Kevin had to have a cheering section. I went prepared. I had blankets, pillows, lots of Gatorade, coloring books, reading books, a tractor, a four-wheeler, and of course the bag chairs. The kids spent all day playing hard. As always, it was fun watching the kids play with Shelby and Kynleigh. We have known their parents all our lives and use to double date with them in high school. It is amazing how their mom and I have gone from, "What are you going to wear? Are you wearing your hair up or down?" to "Surely that nacho chip wasn't on the ground too long before they ate it." I love gaining new friendships through the years, but nothing compares to spending time with friends you have known all your life. It is just so comfortable that it feels like home.

I did discover that there was one thing I was not prepared for when it came to our almost 4-year-olds. Shelby excitedly came over to report that she had kissed Jaron. We asked if this kiss was on the lips and she proudly said, "Yep." Their heads were bobbing up and down as Jaron chimed in with, "Yep. And then we got married." We got a good laugh out of those two. You never know how things might turn out. I started thinking about how young I was when I chose my husband. He bought me a Mountain Dew at our Jr. High basketball tournament when I was in eighth grade and asked me to be his girlfriend. Our first kiss was on my 14th birthday. And then we got married.