Happy Eight Years

It's that time of year again, where I'm nearly thrown on my back by just how fast time has gone by. Our anniversary. It seems like just yesterday we met at the church, went through a rocky, but cherished, relationship, got married, spent precious time together, just me and him, and realized we were expecting our first child. After three years of late nights, late mornings, and only worrying about ourselves.

Now, all the sudden, we have three kids and eight years have flown by. It's CRAZY, I tell you. We aren't even the same people we were back then.

We are better now, more seasoned (ha! I'll be saying to myself ten or twenty years in the future as I read this). Our marriage doesn't go without its hiccups, and things definitely aren't easy anymore.

But I love Dave more everyday, and I am so grateful for the man, husband, and father that he is. I mean it when I say that I really, truly could not picture anyone better for me than him. I am the luckiest gal alive. I'm so grateful for the eight years of marriage we've had to grow as individuals, a couple, and as parents, and that we could build such a perfect little family.


Eight down, the rest of eternity to go. I love you, babe. MORE.

The Simple Things...

*Post inspired by Mama Kat's writer's workshop prompt, "The Simple Things..."

I like the simple things. The simple things are what move my day forward, give me the boost to last through the not-so-simple things. And today my day was full of the simple things. The kind that remind me just how blessed I am and just how happy (and on some days, how happy I should be).

Like the fact that the baby let me sleep eight straight hours without interruption both last night and the night before, which is a miracle. Knock on wood.

Like the fact that I was able to pump some breast milk this morning after feeling down in the dumps all week about losing my milk. (Turns out I'm not. Turns out kids go through growth spurts, or something like that.)

Like the fact that the boys both wanted the same breakfast this morning, which makes my life that much easier.

Like the fact that Dave took over disciplining a very strong-willed four-year-old on his lunch hour, just to give me a break from it. (I think slamming the child's door and saying the naughtiest of naughty words under my breath is a cue that it's his turn.)

Like the swelling emotion all throughout me, emerging in the form of chills and goosebumps, just from watching a moving, heartfelt dance routine. (Thank you, So You Think You Can Dance.)

Like blond curls and blue eyes, that remind me children are beautiful angels and not demons. 

Like the thirty minutes I got to myself to write today.

Like freshly cut grass, done by none other than my husband.

Like phrases from my two-year-old, such as, "Mommy, you get spanking," because they show me just how far he's come in his speech.

Like the precious swatting of a tiny hand on your behind after said phrase.

Like the fact that my four-year-old can still hug me and tell me he loves me after I've just punished him in the worst way I could punish him (taking away his computer privileges).

Like my two-year-old saying, "I you, too," because that's how he says he loves me. 

Like cold cereal for dinner.

Like the visit of a good friend, because it reminds me I'm an adult and can still have adult conversation.

Like my husband retelling the story of how we met, even though I've heard it a million times (after all, I was there), because the part about how he felt when he first looked at me makes my heart skip a beat and makes me feel, in some small way, a part of some romantic movie. 

But mostly, it reminds me that aside from the frumpy sweats, the greasy ponytail, the stretchy tummy skin, the PB&J sandwiches, and the yelling mommy voice, I was once--and maybe even still am--a beautiful, strong woman, who has the love of a caring, amazing man.

The simple things.

Wordless Wednesday

So maybe it's not exactly wordless, but because I don't have a long, gushing story this time, I'm not calling it Wordful Wednesday. There's not really much I have to say about this picture. The caption says it all.

And my heart swells when I look at it.

This is my most favorite picture I have ever taken, of Sam and Dave about two years ago.

Love, love love.

"Lead me, guide me, walk beside me; help me find the way..."

Ode to Camping

*Post inspired by Mama Kat's writer's workshop prompt, "Share a summer camp memory."

My chic camping look. "No pictures, please."

This writer's workshop was more difficult for me. I hard a hard time coming up with anything, for all five prompts, so this is the one I picked. And I'm not really sharing a specific camp memory because I have way too many to choose from, and one of my most memorable wasn't even from the summer. It was a winter camping trip I took with my husband (then my fiancé), my brother, and a friend. It was memorable because it was quite possibly the most scared I have ever been in all my life. 

And when I say scared, I mean I was actually fearing for my life. 

Because thanks to my brother and fiancé, I was lead to believe I was being hunted by a dangerous predator. Just as I was praying my final repentances before meeting my maker, I learned the predator was actually John and Dave...hiding behind the tent and making the most real-sounding growls and purrs I'd ever heard.

Let's just say I didn't speak a word to either of them the rest of the miserable (yes, it was miserable. I don't recommend winter camping) camping trip, minus the few words I couldn't avoid here and there, like "bastard," "son-of-a-bitch," and "the marriage is over" simple yeses and nos.

This is me sulking in my sleeping bag (I was also freezing) instead of posing with Dave for a picture. He was probably thinking "What am I getting myself into?"

So, instead of delving into the nail-biting details of that story, I'm taking on a different tactic. And though I have many many summer camp memories--some from actual church summer camp when I was a teenager and some from summer camping trips with family, and some from the winter (see the snow in the background of the first picture above?)--I decided to just share one picture per memorable camping trip I've taken as an adult, most taking place when we lived in Idaho.

At Yellowstone National Park the first year of our marriage

This was the camping trip Dave got 42 mosquito bites...just on his back. This was the 2nd year of our marriage. And isn't the backwoods version of my hubby cute?

This is one of the camping experiences I contemplated blogging on. It was our 3rd year of marriage (I was pregnant with Sam) and our old buddies, Steve and Jillian Holiday (Steve is my amazingly talented friend who is graciously editing my MS), and us decided to go huckleberry picking, but ended up spending half the day picking the wrong berries. This picture shows our bliss before we realized that. I have another blog post about it here, but beware: the post was written two years ago and my writing skills were absolutely horrific.

Camping with our old friends and quite possibly our favorite camping buddies, John and Jess Vrabec! Yes, that plaid woodsman on the left is Dave. He likes to look the part when we camp.

This was our only Arizona camping trip, with Brand and Tiffany Stewart and Nick and Destiny Bolinger. It was also Dave's first paintball experience. Tiff, Brand, Nick, and Dave. How we miss these guys.

This was from the same camping trip. Sam was tiny and oh-so cute. And this was the last camping trip I've ever taken. It's been three years, people...three YEARS! I am desperate to go again. But the little brats I've popped out kiddos are 100% worth the wait.

These next 3 photos are from the camping trip with the most amazing landscape I've ever taken. It was another winter/spring camp-out taken when Dave and I were dating (Yes, just dating, since it was between our two engagements. Yes, two engagements). We went with my brother, John, again, and our friend, Andy, to the sand dunes in Southern Colorado. Pretty darn amazing, if you ask me. It was cold, but oh-so fun.

We were mere children.

They were competing for me. Just kidding.

Another camp-out in Idaho, the first year in our marriage. This was in the fall. And the fall in Idaho may as well be the winter.

In front of Mesa Falls (believe it or not, it's not in Arizona), the 2nd year of our marriage.

The Day Cliché Became Reality

*Post inspired by Mama Kat's writer's workshop prompt "Write a dramatic synopsis of a memorable day in your life, as if it was a movie or TV series." 


For extra kicks, imagine it being read in the voice of Don LaFontaine.

When Jennie Davenport walked into the church building on an early Sunday in September of 2002, she couldn't have guessed the way her life would change. Confident, uninterested, and somewhat rebellious, she looked like the last person who belonged there.

It was a ward for single adults--a place where young people paraded themselves in the never-ending and pressurized search to wed the first available object of the opposite sex came to cultivate their love of Christ and strengthen their testimony of the gospel. And though Jennie's eyes remained aloof and her chin was high, she came there craving just that: the spiritual feast she'd been missing out on for nearly two years.

With sweaty palms and tensed muscles, Jennie walked into the meat market church building--anxiety-ridden from being somewhere that used to feel like home.

"I can do this," she told herself.  "I need to do this."

Since returning to the prison comfort of her parents' home one week prior, venturing back to church was one of the things Jennie was looking forward to the most, and when her friend, Katie, convinced her to accompany her to the singles ward on that first Sunday--the first church-going Sunday in nearly two years--every stereotype from the popular Mormon movie, The Singles Ward, shot to the forefront of her mind, and she almost declined.

And almost threw up in her mouth a little, too.

After all, Jennie wasn't single, but was in a very unhealthy, co-dependent, recently turned long distance sound relationship.

But little did she know that she'd receive the very thing that 99% of the Mormon single adult population goes to the singles ward for--the only reason: the cliché gift of an eternal companion.

Not making eye contact with a single soul, she walked through the doors and straight to the emptiest pew, willing the mingling singles to sit and the meeting to start.

Then he came over. The first person to speak to her.

Geez, couldn't he give me at least five minutes to settle in?

"Hi," he said, beaming from ear to ear. He looked fresh on the market...like a newbie to normal society.

A return-missionary.

Every button of his olive-colored suit vest was nicely buttoned and a glow emanated off of him.

Ugh, that glow.

He took his hand out of his pocket, offering it politely. Somewhat reluctantly, Jennie took it. It was warm, nonthreatening, and...nice.

His eyes were nice, too. Blue and sincere.

"I'm Dave," he continued. "I just got home from my mission three weeks ago."

And...there it was. Jennie forced a smile. A return missionary was the last thing she needed in her life--spiritually bombarding, innocent, eager.

But then Jennie found out she and the RM had something in common. Dave had served his mission in Huntington Beach, California, in the very home ward Jennie had grown up in. They knew the same people, enjoyed the same smell of that old, white church building.

And despite her objections, she wondered if it was a sign.

Will Jennie dump her dangerous boyfriend and fall in love with this faithful, strapping man, leaving her rebellious life to the wayside?

And will this fresh return-missionary be persistent enough to win over a stubborn, struggling woman?

**Spoiler Alert**

He was. And he did.

Ten Reasons I Love You

*Post inspired by Mama Kat's writers workshop prompt "List ten favorite things about one of your favorite people"...and by my husband of course. :)


I thought long and hard about this, not because it was difficult to come up with ten things I love about you, Dave, but because I didn't know how to condense it all into only ten things. You're the best husband in the world, and that says it all, but here are some reasons why:

1. Honest. And sometimes, to a fault, some women might say. But I don't. Maybe I don't really want to know the honest answer to "Does this make me look fat?" but that's why I just don't ask anymore. Not unless I want the honest-to-goodness truth. And I love that about you because I know I will always get a straight answer about anything and everything. Besides, it's not hard to tell when you're lying.
2. Reasonable, easy to communicate with, and realistic. So, I know that's three separate things, but they're closely related. You're the farthest from fake I know and you posses these certain qualities better than anyone I've ever met. And the way you can look at things from a logical point of view helps keep me grounded.
3. Ever-enduring. You have been through hell and back in your life, and I admire you more than anyone for the man you've become through everything. I look to you as an example.
4. Humble enough to admit when you're wrong. ...when you're wrong. And it doesn't happen very often. No, always being right doesn't deserve it's own number because that sometimes drives me crazy. But it makes me realize how insanely lost I'd be without you. And when you are wrong, you're the first to admit it. It's a trait not many people have, in my experience, and you have it down to a T.
5. Loyal and trustworthy, with a heart of Gold. Like, in an old-fashioned way that is hard to come by nowadays. I don't have to worry that you're living a double life or anything scandalous like that, because I know you love your family more than anything else in this life. And you would bend over backwards and do anything for those people you love.
6. Father of the Year. The way you love our children makes me love you even more. And the way they love you melts my heart like nothing else can. Our boys are your life, and it shows. I love that even when you feel at your worst, you can put it aside and play with them as though life was perfect. The song they sing every day when you get home says it all: I'm so glad when Daddy gets home, glad as I can be...
   
   
7. Loves God. I love that when I'm feeling spiritual anxiety, your spiritual strength can lift me and make me feel the warmth of my own testimony all over again.
8. Supportive. You respect me as a woman who has lost a bit of herself in motherhood and supports the dreams I still have. Your encouragement means more to me than anyone else's. Even the agents and editors I dream about talking to one day. The way you remind me that a negative attitude can hinder my success as a writer keeps me optimistic and plugging along.
9. Dedicated and Hardworking. And more so than anyone I know. When your mind is set on something, you don't stop until you've accomplished it. I stood by you through getting your degree, admiring the way you pushed forward and conquered every class, despite what you feel are academic weaknesses. And even though you wonder sometimes if your career is really what you want/should be doing, you do it, and do it hard.
   
   
   
10. You love me. Even when I don't look and act my best. Even in my weaknesses. And that means the world to me. There are no two people better suited for each other than you and me, and I'm grateful every day that you see that, too.

I love you, babe. Thank you for being persistent in winning me over when we first met. Even though I was "too tall" for you.

Birthday Boys!

February is definitely a month to shower all my boys with affections. Yesterday was Josh's first birthday, today is Sam's third, and Sunday is Dave's 29th! Wow...it's like the month of December in my own family. Anyway, I just wanted to cyber-express my love to all of them!! My family is the single most important thing in my life and I honestly could not be more blessed. I love my husband so much and appreciate all he does to support our family! He is such a hard worker and such a wonderful man. I thank the Lord for him everyday!

I am SO grateful for my wonderful little angel boys. They are my pride and joy in life and I don't know what I would do without them every day (even when Sam won't stop putting his feet on my laptop like he is doing right now...)! I love them and their precious spirits so much. I don't think any mom could be any happier.

Dave didn't want me to get him anything for his birthday this year because of how much money we just spent on our new TV, and I doubt we will get to go out and do anything for it this weekend either (or for v-day, for that matter), but I hope he knows how much I love him!

Happy Valentine's Day everyone! I will post pictures from Josh's first cake shortly!