Mondays.

Since the stroke, which Meme likes to refer to as the ‘thing that happened,’ my mom and her siblings have assigned days that everyone is responsible for calling or visiting.  She’s convinced it was my mother who cracked the whip on her siblings, but it wasn’t, though Janet is pretty whip cracking, I’ll give her that.  The daily calls and the stipulation that we could install an emergency alert system in her house, is the deal to keep her independence.  It’s all slightly BS.  Secretly, I believe that they’re all afraid of her stubbornness and she’s just humoring them by allowing these daily check ins, but whatever works... 

Shortly after the ‘thing that happened,’ Dave was over there helping to install something and Meme was filling him in on these daily calls.  “I’ll be glad when this stage of my life is over.  Everyone is calling and checking in on me.  They think I’ve kicked it if I don’t answer the phone right away,” she said.  He chuckled a little because he already knew about the call schedule.

Then a few minutes later, “What are they going to do about it if I do kick it, anyway?  There’s not a damn thing any of them can do.  When it’s your time, it’s your time.”

Now though?  I think that she enjoys, or maybe just graciously allows, the intrusion into her daily routine by the brood she claims as her own. 

Tate and I have Mondays. 

We drop Finnegan off to school and go over and have breakfast with her.  Tate asks her for the 47th time just why Meme likes her oatmeal with milk and Craisins, when she likes hers more firm with brown sugar and cinnamon.   Meme fills  me in all of the family updates, including phone calls from my cousins in Chicago.  She announces at least once each visit, how absurd it is that my aunt does her laundry when she’s quite capable of going down to the basement to do it herself.  Oh, she gets it, she assures me, “They don’t want me going up and down the stairs with a basket.  It’s just not necessary when, I can do it myself.”  I tell her to enjoy it, humor her children, and to send Sue over to do mine if she doesn’t want the help. 

The talk lately, is of March Madness.  She’s not sure how she’s going to fill out her bracket, her past winning streak means she has a reputation to uphold.  Let’s not forget the woe that her beloved Buckeyes stink this year.  Priorities people, basketball is undoubtedly in her top three... we just aren’t sure if family comes before or after it.   She asks about Bo-Bims, which is what she calls my sister, and fields in depth questions from her great granddaughter about if she really knows Aunt Punka and just how she does.  Apparently, she is satisfied by Meme’s answers and I am convinced that Lyndsey will never be called her real name by anyone, but me. 

Tate has already moved on to the entertainment portion of our visit and twirls her way through the living room.  She pairs the excited whirligig with non-stop chatter about her imaginary sister, Heinje.  “We’re ice dancing!  Me and Heinje are the best ice dancers!”  Meme agrees and pays for the performance with a  belly full of Club crackers.  Then she makes a power play when I answer the phone, she turns on Disney channel for her.  When I raise an eyebrow, she simply pretends in her old age that she doesn’t see me because she’s concentrating on the remote buttons.  I now know where her loyalties lie.  They sometimes draw funny things and Meme tries to convince her to tell everyone that she is TQ’s great-grandmother, not because of her age, but her excellence.  “Tate, you can just tell everyone you call me that because I am so GREAT!  Don’t you think?” 

Yep, Meme.  We kinda do.

Tuesday Flowers and Hotel Sex.

Want to know a little secret? 

Dave and I don’t really do Valentine’s Day. 

*Audible gasp!*  Dun. Dun. Duuuun.

Not for any, “OH MY GOD, IT’S SUCH A HALLMARK HOLIDAY,” righteous indignation, it’s probably just laziness.  We do get each other cards most years, sometimes not.  A few years, we have actually purchased cards and not even signed them.  It wasn’t always this way.  Our first Valentine’s Day, we went away for the weekend and got each other all kinds of cute little presents and had hot hotel sex.  But now?  Eh, that sounds like a lot of work.  I didn’t poop the whole weekend because it was our first trip away together and I didn’t want him to know I had bodily functions.

It’s not that we take each other for granted.  I mean, sometimes we do I’m sure, because we’re normal.  It happens, we just attempt to be mindful of it when it does.  That can be very hard to do when you are raising children and you have 943 things on your to do list, but we try.  There are still moments of whispering sweet nothings and flowers and hot hotel sex and there are thoughtful little presents, we just do those things for each other whenever we feel like it rather than saving it all up for the grandiose expectations of Valentine’s Day.

You know how I know he loves me?  He spends an hour vacuuming out my car.  He believes in me.  He tells me to take a nap.  He challenges me.  He makes me laugh.  He tells me I’m fancy.  He pulls me tight and kisses me.  He encourages me to grow as a person.  He holds my hand.  He brings me flowers on a Tuesday. 

Right after grilling him about why his guilty conscience would lead him to get me Tuesday flowers, I realize that maybe he really does just like me.  Almost as much as I like him.

And after ten Valentine’s Days, that right there is better than a card.

Six.

And I’d do it all over again in a second.

I Love Thai Food.

When Dave and I started dating, I was a gigantic commitment-phobe.  I wouldn’t have even really called it dating.  I mean we were hanging out and having fun.  He was way more into me than I was into him and we both knew this. 

Sex?  Sure. 

Spend the night?  Ahhhh… no thanks.

I thought he was too nice.  He opened my car doors.  He liked my family.  He owned a suit and took me for sushi.

One night after we had been seeing each other steadily for a few months, we were on our way to get dinner.  I don’t even really remember the context of the conversation we were having anymore, but just as he was getting out of the car, I blurted out, “I love you.”

Sheer panic set in immediately.

And then, I instantaneously thought, “What the fuck did I just say?  That did NOT just come out of my mouth.  WHY???  Why would I say that?” 

Not because I didn’t mean it.  Even in all my denial about him definitely NOT being “the one,” at that point we were both stupid for each other .  It was flat out shock.  WHO does that?  Certainly not me.  Not ever.  No way.

Maybe he didn’t hear me.

He was half out of the car when I said it and paused for half a sec, then leaned down to smile at me and asked me to repeat myself.

So I said the first thing that popped into my head, “I love Thai food.”

He responded with, “I thought so.”  

Then, he made fun of me the rest of the night and I sat mortified trying to explain it away.  I can’t be in love.  This isn’t love.  No, no, no, noooo way.

But you all know it was.  It is. 

He stands by my side and is proud of my accomplishments.  He holds my hand through the tough stuff and celebrates the amazing stuff.  He is the man I get to make cute babies with only now, he’s legally obligated to spend the night.  And every day, he is the person I wake up next to.  And argue politics with.  And make fun of and laugh with.  He is the hardest working man I have ever met.  He is a present father and strong role model.  He willingly and daily puts in half the work it takes to make our marriage a success. 

I get to be absolutely stupid for this man for the rest of my days.

And all because one night I blurted out, “I love Thai food.”

What is your love story?

 

My Mom.

You would think that by the time you’re 35 years old, you’re old enough to not need your mother anymore.  Oh sure, at 16 or 17 or 18, you’re SURE you don’t need your mom anymore, but really you’re a dumbass.  But at 35, it seems like you should be over needing your Mama.

I am not.

Sure, sure, she drives me absolutely nuts at times, to which Dave will attest.  She is an awful driver, but a champion {we are talking world class here} parallel parker.  She gets Finn maddeningly hyped up and gives him juice and buys him gifts at every turn.  She sometimes has to be told she’s overstepping bounds.  I know you’ll be shocked to hear this, but we’re rather blunt in my family.  Sometimes, frankly, she needs a kick in the ass.  But for every time I am crazed by something she’s done, there are 12 times that she’s done something wonderful.

A hug right when I need it.

Coming home to a spotless house after being in the hospital.

She hosts every family dinner and occasion without complaint even though I know the amount of time and energy it takes.

We go to the Farmer’s Market every Saturday morning and she takes Finn to get his lemonade and ‘breakfast cookie’ so Dave and I can stroll around together, just the two of us.

She calls me just to see how I’m feeling.

She loves Lyndsey and I equally, but differently.  A delicate mix to be sure, and something I hope to achieve with my children.

She is an endless source of laughter.  Belly cramping, people looking at us like we’ve lost our minds, tear inducing laughter.

She is there.  At four in the morning or in the middle of a meeting.  She is always right there if I need her.

She gives of herself every single day.  Fully.  To work.  To her family, friends, and strangers alike. 

She is a champion for those who don’t realize their own worth.

She is more than my mom, she is my friend.  I genuinely admire who she is as a person.

And today, she is old. 

Jan Bob, there would be an unmistakable void in our lives without you in it.

I hope you have the best birthday ever.  I love you. 

And so does Dave.  And Finn.  And Lyndsey.  And Richard.  And Meme.  And your brother and your sisters.  And every one of the friends you’ve had since you were twelve.  And the new ones you’ve made along the way.  And random strangers on the internet who read stories about the time you met Snoop or “that guy” from Nine Inch Nails.

Positive.

Joy.  Lots and lots of joy.  We are expecting July 4. 

I took this photo on October 22.  That is a long time to keep quiet for a loudmouth like me.  Especially since we have been waiting and trying, and trying and waiting for what seems like forever.  The day the magical plus sign would appear.  And to my secret keepers?  You will never realize how amazingly wonderful your support has been these last 16 weeks.  Thank you.

So now, we patiently await our cute little bean.  

Five.

Forty five years from now, when the internet is soooo passee and everyone but me has forgotten about {So Wonderful, So Marvelous} we will be sitting at our lake house, watching our grandchildren run around playing freeze tag and kick the can.  Because even though we're old, we will have taught them these things.  Childhood needs these things, fresh air and games where you run around until you're sweaty.

Our friends and children will have gathered to celebrate our golden anniversary and my sister Lyndsey will be bitching because once again, she is helping throw a party.

We'll laugh and remember people at our wedding who stuck their head in our martini luge, the dancing, the celebration of it all.  They will pass around our wedding photos and laugh at the old fashioned clothes and smile when they see us dancing. 

"Look how YOUNG you were Grandpa!" will be exclaimed. 

And we'll speak nostalgically about the last fifty years because when you're old, you've earned that right.  You can wax all kinds of philosophical and no one can say shit.  I’m going to love that part.

Our children and their spouses will say things like, "What is the secret?"  But we'll just smile knowingly that there isn't a magic formula for making a marriage work.  It takes patience, laughter, kindness, sex, love, liking the person you married, and knowing that it will last.  And lots of hard work.

This marriage thing?  Not for the faint of heart.

Tomorrow, we are celebrating the first five years with a fabulous dinner out, just the two of us and a bottle of wine. 

Happy Anniversary Love, there is just no one else in this world I'd rather make out with.  I hope that the next forty-five years bring as much laughter and compromise and love as the first five.

There is Nothing Random About Kindness. A Giveaway.

Saturday, April 17th, it's my birthday.  Yep, just a week from now, I will be a year older.

There will be lots of giving, but not to me. 

To others.

Will you give me a gift & do a random {or not so random} act of kindness?

It's so easy.  You can tell someone how they have changed your life or how much you love them. You can rake your neighbor's lawn or help them clean out their garden. You can have coffee with a friend or buy lunch for a stranger. You can leave change in a vending machine for someone else to find or pay the toll of the car behind you. You can tell someone how pretty they look or make a donation to your favorite organization. Help a family that has been in the news lately or send a letter of thanks to your favorite teacher. You can drop off flowers to a nursing home or take balloons to a hospital.

You can just start with a smile.

And I would love it if you would share it with me via email, or text, or blog, or a comment, or homing pigeon, or phone call, or facebook message, or fax, or smoke signal, or a telegram.  I would even settle for morse code as long as someone can translate the dots and dashes for me.

I am doing thirty-four of them, one for each year I have been here.  I couldn't be more excited.

And then we are going to celebrate with a party because let's face it, I have the most drunk cake loving best peeps in the world.

Robyn, the brains behind Mix Mingle Glow, brought the inspiration.  For that, I am extremely thankful.

Where do you come in? 

Aside from the hope that you will do a random act of kindness for someone else, one of you will be the recipient of the first act of kindness I get to deliver Saturday morning when this all begins. 

Let me tell you, thanks to some fabulous women, this first gift I get to give is going to be so much fun.  Becki at Whippy Cake has whipped up a little something.  Meg at Green Leaf Boutique has come up with a bauble or two to share with you.  And a jar of Vanilla Bean Sea Salt of your very own so you can make some Sea Salt Chocolate Covered Oreos and see what all of the fuss is about.  Many, many more fun things are just awaiting the recipient of this box.  I am so excited to send this out I can hardly stand it.  I can't tell you any more because birthday gifts should be a surprise, right?  More than $100 worth of the most fun things are wrapped up and ready for your house.
  
It shall henceforth be refered to as the Big Ass Box of Fun Stuff.

So, how do you make sure it's your name I announce Saturday morning?

Leave a comment.  That's all.  You can introduce yourself, or tell me a joke, or tell me what random act of kindness you're going to do this week.  You can recite a poem, or tell me your favorite item from Whippy Cake or Green Leaf Boutique, or tell me how you heard about my blog.  Anything will do and anyone may enter, even if this is your first visit here.  You have until 11:59 pm on Friday, April 16.

I will even throw in two bonus entries.   If you blog this, or put it on your Facebook page, or tweet it, or simply email it to your friends you can get one additional entry.  For another, subscribe to {So Wonderful, So Marvelous} via RSS or email.... look over there in my sidebar and just click.  Be sure to leave a second {or third} separate comment telling me what you did & a link.

So there you have it.  Stop back on Saturday morning to see who the Big Ass Box of Fun Stuff will be going home with and stories of what acts of kindness people are spreading.

I hope you'll join me in doing something wonderful for someone else this week. 

It's amazing what a little kindness can do.

{Full disclosure, I did not receive any product or payment in exchange for these goodies, they were given for me to pass along to someone special when they heard about this project.  Because they are awesome.}

Freaks In Love.

For the record, I was going to write a post about Dave today.  How awesome he is and give him a little encouragement on his handy Manny skills as he begins the bathroom remodel from hell.  {Yes, our only bathroom is going to be torn to bits starting Thursday.  This should be fun.}  I was going to publicly announce to the world that not only did I marry a programming genius who is nearly the most intelligent person I know, but he's got mad working with his hands skills as well.  He does all the dirty jobs in our house without so much as a complaint.  He re-wires things and fixes cars and figures out how to tile and has things like "working on things jeans" in his wardrobe.

But then he called me a socialist and we started arguing having a discussion about healthcare reform.  He never fights fair.  I mean seriously I should be able to call him a rightwing middle class republican asshole male without him calling me a commie socialist tree hugger, right?

AND he told me he didn't want to see Elton John in concert.  Hold me closer Tony Danza?  Really?  Dave is a musician!  {Yeah, ANOTHER talent.  It's getting old, isn't it?}  He has seen ridiculous concerts and he won't go see Elton Freaking John?

But then, we agreed to disagree, as we always do.  It is how we continue to try & remain civil while on opposite sides of the fence, something we both think Congress might need a lesson on, that makes our marriage work.  I stipulated that the bill is far from perfect and he agreed that he doesn't want to see Annabelle affected by lifetime limitation or being denied insurance for a pre-existing condition.  Then, we just mumble under our breath anything further on the subject. 

And he said he would go to Elton John just to hear Rocket Man.

I'm pretty sure he likes me, even after all this time.

March Madness.

I don't get basketball. 

But my Meme does.  My {soon to be... like 5 days from now} 86 year old grandma is hard core, people.

And she swears at the tv.  Oh sure, she'll deny it in the presence of others, but she totally swears and yells at the tv.  She also does a March Madness pool.  She plays the pious old lady card, but my cousin John will bear witness. 

Yeah, I just had to google, "is it bear witness or bare witness."  I'm still not sure.  Thanks google.

Back to Meme.  I can't divulge the specifics, but she *may* have put a framed photo of Jim Jackson up in her house when he began his career with OSU.  It stayed there for more years than I can count, at least through his college and NBA years.  She re-painted the living room and didn't put the senior photos of her children back up, but Jim Jackson?  He stayed. 

Saturday, we're having her birthday party at my house, so I called to verify the desserts and make sure the times were ok... because the games have begun.  I also needed to make sure they were shown on non-cable stations because we don't have cable and I have to say, I knew she wouldn't show up to her own party if the Buckeyes were on and she couldn't watch.

Two hours later she called me back.  She just wanted to see if I thought she was a lunatic and promised she only wanted to watch if Ohio State was playing.  I assured her it was fine and it was her birthday party after all, well she is sharing it with my aunt too, but no one messes with Meme.

I totally want to be her when I grow up. 

March Madness & My Meme, my Friday Favorites.  If you have a favorite to share, link up with Hillary!

What a Difference A Year Makes.

People always throw that phrase around.  But it is true. 

Last year.  Ugh last year was rough.  Really rough.

No one should ever watch their one year old go through multiple surgeries and chemo.  I can't even imagine.

Little girls should have hair.  They shouldn't know what ports are.  They shouldn't spend half their year in and out of the hospital and miss birthday parties and know their nurses better than their friends.

I told Nikki when all of this started, I can see them at sixteen.  Still friends.  All of this a distant memory.  I still do.

And truthfully, my confidence that she would beat this horrible disease only wavered once.  It pains me to say that I doubted it even for a second.  It was the phone call at the park on a beautiful summer day, more chemo... the tumors hadn't responded well enough to do surgery.  I listened as carefully as I could to her words, trying to process the idea that a miracle wasn't happening.  I was so sure a miracle was supposed to happen.  It pained me as I watched my own son playing and running and jumping while trying to swallow what I was hearing.

More praying and bargaining with God and wondering what in the world was the purpose in all of this.  

There were tears, lots of tears, mostly at night when I went to bed after talking to Nikki at 3 am about nonsense. It was the realizing how strong someone has to be to endure a child having cancer and still ask YOU how things in your life are.  To still be involved in our friendship, to give even if it's only a smile and some kind words about how big Finn was getting.   And you want to be strong in return, to assure her that soon things would be back to normal... whatever normal is.  You want to say something, to do something to take this away, but really there is nothing to say other than you love them and you will do anything you can to help. 

But there is nothing.  And you are helpless until you and a team of angels start planning the mother of all fundraisers.  Because it makes you feel as if you're doing something, in the face of having nothing.  And you know that Nicole and Jon would do the very same for you because that is the friendship you have.  And that little girl and her parents must be doing something right, because after selling 500 tickets, we had to tell people we were out.  And still they donated and volunteered and turned out in such force that it brought tears to my eyes.  The love in that room was undeniable.  And that night, if I had stopped moving for a minute to think about it, I would have lost it. 

{Meg, Nikki, & Me}

And now, now that we are past it.  We have reason to wear those red dancing shoes and do twirls in the living room.  And play with our friends.  And close the door, plot with Finnegan, and pour half a container of watermelon bubbles into the play tub to give our baby a bath.  And give cuddles.  And look... LOOK at all that hair, I just know it's going to be as long as mine soon Miss Annabelle.

I found out two weeks after Annabelle's diagnosis that my boss, my friend, Amy had cancer.  I called to check in, like we did every couple of months told her the news of Annabelle when she told me.   And when we would talk over the next several months, she always asked how Annabelle was doing and that she couldn't imagine a baby having to go through chemo and that it just shouldn't have to happen.  Amy lost her fight in August and three weeks later, Annabelle had the surgery to remove the neuroblastoma and our prayers for so many months were answered.  I can't help but think that maybe, just maybe Amy put in a good word for her up there and said that she had endured enough, it was time for her miracle to arrive. 

And maybe it just brings me some comfort in a time when I am missing her and still celebrating Annabelle.  I'm just so thankful that my heart has enough room to do both. 

So, thank you.  Thank you for your prayers, for your kindness, for your help and your support.  Please continue to say a prayer or send a good thought, this time in thanks.  And for continued good health for Annabelle.

What a difference a year makes.

Birthday Wishes

THIS is what I want for my birthday in April.  Well, this and a Cricut Expression machine, but mostly this.  I am going to make it happen.  The ideas are already swirling.  AND my birthday is a Saturday this year.  Fate, no?

I might ask for your help.

Who is in?

I'd do it all over again. Maybe. Except for the crazy parts.

Here is your fair warning that this post is going to be picture heavy.  And long. 

A few weeks ago, the magnificent bloggy BFF and I were discussing weddings.  Mostly this post is for her, but a little for me too.  I'm not going to lie, I love weddings.  I love peeking in on my friends Facebook pages with their wedding pics, I love reading about strangers' weddings in the blogosphere, & I even love attending them, especially if they don't suck.  Maybe it's the party planning piece, maybe it is all the mushy love junk, but I love them.  I'm just glad that when I was planning, I knew nothing of blogs because I am pretty sure things would have been out of control, there is SO much out there now, so many incredible ideas... just remember this was almost five years ago.  And it was fun, so fun that people still tell us it was the most fun wedding they've ever been to.  I think it's because we viewed the reception as a party and dispensed with all of the traditional stuff. 

We did food stations with a really creative chef that let us do what we wanted.  We had stirfry made in front of you & served out of takeout boxes; and a potato bar that had mashed potatoes & hand cut fries; carved beef with bernaise; and a salad station with vichysoisse... a complete jumble,  but we had all our favorites represented. 

We had a martini luge. 

And a live band.  I am pretty sure that is where the insanity started.  Oh, and it was 9 million degrees out and we got married in a historic church that doesn't have air conditioning.  But I am getting ahead of myself...

Here we are, those little specks there sitting on the alter.

The deacon of my church and the pastor of Dave's both married us.  It was important to us that we were both represented in the ceremony.  Dave chose all of the music, every last piece except the Hawaiian Wedding Song which is my Meme's favorite. 

The girls all chose a black tea length dress in whatever style they wanted and most of them have worn their dresses again, which was our goal.  We had our friends stand up for us no matter what their sex... we still tease my cousin that he was a "bridesman" in our wedding & Dave's sister was his "best woman". 

This is my favorite photo, taken right after the ceremony.  It was published in the Knot Ohio magazine shortly after we were married.  

Oh, and the ridiculously giant bouquet? I had the most important women in my life {there were 24 of them} choose a flower for me to carry.  Something that represented them or me or us and they wrote why they chose their flower on a beautiful card that I was able to keep. 

I didn't care that a bird of paradise was nestled in next to a white rose that was bumping up against a calla lilly, or that it was huge, or that my florist thought I was nuts.  I absolutely loved having them 'with me' as I married Dave.

We gave our photographer approximately 20 minutes for posed photos before we were on to the reception in a giant bus that we rented one week before {a GENIUS idea Mom!} the wedding.  Thankfully, Kristen only thought we were slightly nuts and got us on our way.  We didn't want to miss the reception.  She really captured everything we wanted in such an unobtrusive fantastic way without needing posed pics. 

Now we're on to the reception.  

We really wanted to do our own thing.  We went traditional with the ceremony, so the party was about us.

Our parents about had a heart attack that we weren't having a cake.  Or doing the cake cutting.  Or the bouquet toss.  Or the garter thing.  Or making our guests sit around for an hour while we danced a million dances.  We skipped all of it.  

We heard, "you're doing what??!?" a lot during planning.  It still makes me laugh just thinking about it.  

Here is what we DID do... 

A Polaroid guest book. These pictures are hilarious. And when we ran out of film because everyone took a ton of crazy fun photos, people started drawing in pictures of themselves. I love that book, even years later we pull it out.  Who can say that about a guest book?

A candy buffet.  Now, everyone and their mother does them, but it was pretty out there back then. 

My mother thought this was the dumbest thing ever.  She told Dave the morning of the wedding  that she thought we would be carting home 57 pounds of candy at the end of the night. Then, she walked into the reception and saw giddy 21 year olds and 57 year olds both filling bags and squeeling like the little kids that were in line behind them.  There were a few giant buttermint peppermints left at the end of the night that I happily took home because they are my favorites.  Janet eating her words was even sweeter.

We had frozen novelties in lieu of cake.  And don't forget a martini from the luge.  We also had a full bar complete with a keg of Guiness to celebrate our honeymoon to Ireland a little early.  My mom and my aunt went on a wine scouting trip to Napa a few months before the wedding and had wines paired for each food station.

I loved the tables.  We had a small vase with a rose at each place setting.  The favors were homemade {by my BFF's mom as a wedding gift to us} unbelievable caramel turtles.  She makes all of the caramel herself.  We put them in boxes that had all kinds of random facts about us & our bridal party, some were funny, some sweet.  We had so many compliments on this, especially from guests that might not have known a lot of people, it was a great ice breaker to ask everyone else at the table what fact they had.  The escort cards had the table number written in on the back.

Well, there you have it.  Our wedding, or most of it at least.  I'll leave out the crazy parts, maybe another post?  The food was great.  The drinks were strong.  And all night the dance floor was full, so were our hearts knowing how many people flew in, drove in, and made time to be there for us.  That by far surpassed all of the rest.   Thanks for peeking in.
Oh, one more little thing... 

Friends don't let friends stick their heads in martini luges.
{unless you're at our wedding... then, it's pretty normal.}

{All photos in this post were taken by the fabulous Decisive Moment Photojournalism except the last one, taken by my ridiculously talented uncle who was mistaken for a drunk photographer.}

$10 and an Hour - Romantic Gift for your LOVE

 The romantic gift would also be great to use for stocking stuffers. 

First, I created a cd of love songs {we already had blank cds in the house} and designed a cover for the cd case.  We have a printer that allows me to print directly onto the cd to personalize further, but you could also leave it blank.  I just used songs already in our music library, but if you wanted to go over the $10 limit, you could easily purchase all kinds of new music online at iTunes or Amazon.

Next, I purchased the candle {Shhhh... it's a Glade with the label removed} at Target for $2.50.

I also made {some cute & some hot} love coupons to spice up the gift a bit.  It doesn't take any money to give a massage or make out like a teenager, but it does show that you're thinking of your love. 

The last piece of this gift was a love letter.  There is nothing more romantic than telling the person you love all of the amazing reasons why you're enamoured with them. 
 

So, the grand total was $2.50.  I think I may add some chocolates or maybe some baby oil for that massage I've promised.  Both would still be within budget!

And a little gift for you...  You can download and print {share with your friends!} the LOVE COUPONS that I created to use for your own romantic gift.  There are ten different coupons from a date night to a quickie.  Enjoy!

To see more of the $10 Gift series, click here.

Lyndsey Marie

People of the internet, this is my sister Lyndsey.  She is hilarious and only yesterday laughed for 20 minutes straight while getting Finnegan to say things like "chill Mama" and "jive turkey" in between gasps for air from cracking up.  She is a total freak of nature.  And wonderfully lovely.  And beautiful.  And ridiculously fun to be around and just about the kindest soul I have ever met.  And if I had a million dollars or even ten grand to blow, I would take her back to this very spot {that doesn't even exist anymore except in our minds} and I would celebrate with her and dance and drink copious amounts of rum in that little shack on the beach in St Martin.  Because she deserves it.  Today she is 31.  Please leave a comment here to wish her all of the birthday amazingness she so richly deserves.

Happy Birthday Lynds.

Two {and a half.}

At the end of the month he's going to be two and a half.  I feel like I've blinked and he's grown into a little man.  Every single day is something new.  Every day an adventure through his eyes.  And the things he's absorbing are unreal.  Tonight, he counted {loudly in the middle of Panera} to Fir(Thir)-teen for Dougie, try shhhhhing and laughing at the same time, it's not as easy as it might appear.  Sometimes I don't know where things come from or where his thought process is, but figuring it out is half the fun because the connections he is making are obscure and often hilarious.

It has really been my pleasure to be his Mama, getting to witness and record this peek into his life. Getting hugs each morning and being able to snuggle him up for an afternoon nap are truly highlights of my day. Remind me of this when we have the hard days and when he is fourteen and hates me, for I know it's coming.

But for now, I'll just hold on to two {and a half.}

Prayers for Annabelle.

 

Annabelle is going in to have her neuroblastoma tumor removed at 2:15 pm.  Please say a prayer for her.  Send supportive, strength filled thoughts to her parents Jon & Nicole.  Send prayers to her medical staff that they have the healing power to remove every last bit.  Please.  She means the world to her family, to our family, to everyone she meets.  And if you are so inclined, there is a Facebook group called Annabelle's FAITH.

{Finnegan can't WAIT to give you more football tackles hugs when you're all healed.}

**{UPDATE:  As of Wednesday afternoon Miss Annabelle is resting comfortably in the ICU.  They will probably keep her asleep for at least another day or two.  The doctors think that they got everything out & we will be awaiting preliminary pathology results at the end of this week or early next week.  Please continue praying that the mass is all dead cells & that Annabelle has a quick recovery.  THANK YOU so much for your well wishes and continued prayers.}** 

**{UPDATE #2:  As of Thursday night Miss Annabelle has been moved out of ICU, onto the oncology floor, the chest tube is out, she is awake, and has one IV left to be taken out!  This little munchkin is a miracle, she is unstoppable, she is AMAZING!  Jon & Nikki are able to hold her and she is chatting up a storm.  Happy happy day!  Continue your prayers please.}**

**{UPDATE #3:  She is UNREAL this little miracle!  Here it is Friday afternoon and she is RUNNING, better than that... she is coming HOME!  Neuroblastoma has nothing on this beautiful, amazing little girl.  Jon says the incision looks pretty intense, it is a C shape from her armpit across her abdomen, but she isn't letting anything hold her back.  She has a fire under her butt and she is ready to go home!  I just want to say THANK YOU SO MUCH from the bottom of my heart to everyone that sent prayers and healing thoughts her way.  I can't even begin to tell you the good it has done for our wonderfully amazing, unbelievably STRONG friends and their beautiful little girl.  Small miracles.}**

I see dead people. Err... positive things in my future. The vision board.

YAY me!  I get to cross something off my list!  My vision board {#91} is done.  It contains everything from having good hair days to a large amount of cash in our savings account to getting pregnant to making exercise a priority to learning to knit.  I fancied mine up a bit just because I think it deserves a special place and some time and effort, but you can do anything from a piece of paper to a digital vision board to a poster board filled with images of your future.  Make it personal.

Why did I decide to do a vision board?  It's something that I've been wanting to do for quite some time now.  For me, it's helpful to have a visual reminder of the priorities in my life and where we are going to be as a family in a few years.  I thought that it would be a great item for the 101 Things in 1001 Days list since they are similar.  I posted my vision board in our bedroom, right over the phone, somewhere that I would see often. 

Lisey Moving to 'Tucky.

We moved my littlest sister Elise down to Kentucky a few weeks ago.  I was a big ole girl and cried my eyes out.  I was fine until we actually arrived at her dorm and it all became very very real.  Don't get me wrong, I'm SO happy and excited for her, but it just seems wrong that she's an adult.  Granted, she doesn't exactly act like an adult, but she is eighteen.

This post is really only for her, but to let y'all in on the joke, when I was VERY pregnant with Finnegan, Elise went to Florida for spring break.  She came home and every single picture (of which there are at least 100) had Elise and her friend in some version of the kissy face and/or peace sign flashing.  Did I mention that she took ALL of these photos of herself... like with her arm out taking pics of herself?  How does someone come home from a week on the beach in Florida with not one picture of the beach?? 

So into the hospital I go for my c-section (because I had a GIANT baby) and Elise's mom was my OB nurse and she shows all of these pics to me and we laugh hysterically.  So assholes that we are... Dave and I take this photo to give to Elise and we find ourselves extremely amusing.

Which brings me back to moving her to Kentucky.  We decided the trip wouldn't be complete with out these my sweet Lisey...

And not to be outdone by his Mama & Daddy... He's working on it...

I hope you're enjoying your new found freedom and that you're sort of keeping your room clean.  Hopefully after that first time, you've gotten doing laundry down and you're enjoying the DZs.  There is so much you're going to learn and discover about yourself these next four years Elise Noel.  I am so very proud of you and can not wait to see you this weekend.

PS.  I'm totally not going to cry (much) when you have to go back.