Personal: It's you.

The other night, we walked to our car on a warm summer evening. A small breeze was blowing, but you could still feel heat on the pavement. You held my hand and we laughed a little about it...since we hardly ever have time for hand-holding. You opened the door for me and then I watched you walk around the front of the car to your door. It felt like a whole minute had passed before you got back in. And just like in the movies, the inside of the car was so silent, I could hear my own heartbeat. I've always admired you. And I love watching you from a distance. The air inside the car must have been a perfect 76 degrees. The greatest temperature ever created. When you finally joined me, I blurted out: "It's crazy J, because I don't know if it's just the air in here or the specific temperature change from out there to in here, but I feel like someone just put a blanket around my shoulders. I wasn't even cold, but the air feels so good, it's like those chilly nights when you think you might be getting cold, but a simple little sweater makes all the difference." I was totally lost in deep thought. And possibly ruined the moment. But, you smiled at me sweetly and said. "Yep, I totally agree." And it might have been then, yea I guess it was then, that I knew it was actually you that made me feel that way. The same way I do when a rare, lazy-day comes around...the ones where you get to sit in front of the television on a snow day and cuddle up to a blanket? Or the first day you light a pumpkin candle in the window. Or the nights you driven home in the rain and watch the streetlights drop off in waterfall reflections on the pavement...and yet you can't quite ever reach them. The same feeling I get sipping hot cocoa at a high school football game. Just the same as snuggling under the covers on a cold night. You do that for me: Give me those good goosebumps and make me feel cozy, just by being around you.

I can hardly believe that 9 years has escaped us. It seems more realistic to think about a long 9 minutes. Time does that to me. As soon as it's over, it doesn't seem like it's hardly ticked by to begin with. I love that about us. 

Thank you for making me feel cozy. Thank you for making me a mommy. And thank you for making me so darn happy. 

Happy 9th Anniversary, my love. Here's to the next 99.  

Personal: Hiding the Cape

I sat there hoping no one had noticed it was missing. And surely if they had, was it even possible they'd know that I had it? In my desk?! I mean, how often does anyone look at those old pictures anyway?  My 7th grade hand kept writing. I sat in Mr. Johnson's class that year with only 4 other kids. Giddily I laughed to myself during a test because I'd taken your picture--your class confirmation picture--off the wall of the school's hallway and stuck it in my desk. Only my two closest friends knew it was in there, but every time I had to reach for a pencil, pull out a folder, or put my things away, there you were: staring up at me through an old framed piece of glass. I thought for sure, you were looking right at me. And how it was that I was going to land you, even though you were now a cool, public-school-8th-grader, I didn't quite know. But I was going to keep a picture of you in my mind (and maybe my desk!) until I figured it out. You were everything I thought I wanted...

...until I got you. And then you made me cry. I stared up at the ceiling the night you brought me home after our first official date in the 12th grade. It had been somewhat of a blind date because even though you'd known OF me all these years, you didn't really know me. And while I had studied your face and every move for half my life, I hadn't really known you either. I laid in bed that night crying. A tear stained pillow held my crazy-smiling head. I had no idea how I'd done it, but I knew I'd made an impression on you. I don't think I slept at all that night. All these years, all I wanted was a chance. And you had been more than I'd ever imagined. You were everything I thought I wanted.

...it's just that even I didn't know you'd become more that even that. I had no idea you'd also be capable of becoming the greatest daddy a little boy could ever have. You dote on our child when you're with him and never back out on a chance for that to occur. You offer to hold him, feed him, change him, play with him, and snuggle him, melting my heart. During our first few weeks home as a new family, you got up with me, at every-single-night-feeding, just to be with us. A few times, I stumbled upon a clean kitchen after an early morning feeding, or a dinner-filled table after I'd laid him down for the night. I love hearing you two laughing at the littlest of things. And the way you scream at me to come see how far he's scooted across the room. And every so often, I brush a small tear from my cheek when, through the baby monitor, I overhear the little things you tell him about me. Your devotion to being a father is something I wasn't sure was possible. How a single person can uphold so many positions without failing any of them amazes me. And I wonder if you are secretly hiding a cape under your shirt when you leave for work each morning. 

You, my love, are the single (aside from Eli!) greatest joy of my life. And I can't wait to hear our little boy tell his friends one day that his daddy is better than theirs. For in my heart, I'll smile because he's probably right! 

Happy Father's Day my love! We love you more than life. And we both adore you. 

Personal: All Shades of Red

I knew as early as the 3rd grade. It was as clear as the blue sky. And although I have no idea how I knew, I knew. I felt it. And talked about it day in and day out. After keeping a picture of you folded inside the springs of my grad-school desk, practicing my name with yours in all my notebooks, and dialing your number for years only to hang up because of nerves, most people started to figure it out: I had a serious crush on you. One that wouldn't go away and one that I prayed nightly never would.

It took me years to turn your head...and while I'm not sure how I did it or what I did, I'm glad you looked. We have a history that is rare and a love that is rarer. I have no idea how I ended up so blessed, or how it's possibly that you still make me turn all shades of red when you walk into a room. But you do. You just always do.

Jason, you are my life. My Love. My everything-cheesy-in-a-love-song kinda man. I had no idea that at our 8 year anniversary, I'd be 8 months pregnant. This is SO SURREAL!! =) It's a new chapter that somewhat frightens me, if I'm being honest, but there is no one I'd rather walk this with than you. Thank you for making my life better than those years of dreaming what life would be like with you. Thank you for loving me more than I deserve.

Happy Anniversary, my love.

Our first "official" year together.

Our Ordinary Valentine's

I have a tiny family of 4: A husband, 2 dogs...and me. They are the love of my life and I don't think anything compares to the awesomeness of their personalities and our day to day routine. I am learning to love my life in the ordinary. Yesterday's sermon was about remembering to thank God in the ordinary. It's easy to call on Him in times of sorrow and pain, but what about all those times during the day when life is entirely ordinary? Thank you God, for my life as of now...plain and simple. Laundry in progress, dishes in the sink, flowers on the table, photos waiting for edits, a dog at my feet, a dog barking at the door, and the greatest man ever to have spent the last 10 Valentine's Day with.

Our ordinary life is perfect. And our ordinary Monday night--workout, make dinner, play with the dogs, and watch 90210--will be the best extra-ordinary Valentine's!

♥ Happy Valentine's Day my love! From me and the Dogs. xoxo ♥

Personal: The cupid-gram

A few days ago, my sister-in-law asked me what Jason and I did for our first Valentine's Day. For someone who seems to remember everything, literally so many details it's obnoxious, I actually wasn't sure I could remember. I tried thinking hard, squinting my eyes towards the bright sunlight...as if using the trick to correct my astigmatism might help me correct a memory lapse. I can't really remember, I'd told her. But I'll think hard on it...maybe the answer is in one of my old diaries, I suggested.

After a few hours of trying to remember which one was our first one--To the diaries I went. And back down memory lane for longer than I'd wanted to be there. Within the pages of my high school diary there was more heartbreak and anxiety than I'm proud to admit. Sure there were happy times, but I found the pages riddled with phrases like why doesn't he like me, maybe he'll notice me today, I'm so heartbroken I can't eat, hopefully by the next entry we'll be dating, and maybe I won't ever truly understand love until I'm married. As for the Valentine's Days, most were fairly bland and some were down-right sad. When I was a freshman, I'd fallen hard for this guy in the 10th grade. When Valentine's Day came, our high school gave out cupid-grams...a red rose and a song from our choir were delivered to all the lucky girls. For most of the girls who didn't receive one, we'd brush it off like it was no big deal--a dumb thing anyway. But to me, it was the world! I would lay in bed the night before thinking about how it would happen. How this guy, was going to send me one in Biology, no 2! cupid-grams. I would be the talk of the school, I'd thought. But things don't always work out the way you dream. I didn't receive one from him, but instead, he'd given his red rose and song to one of the prettiest girls in the school. As for me, he later taped a blush-colored carnation to my locker as a peace offering. A carnation?! I have since hated that flower.

Since, as it seems, Valentine's Days never really amounted to anything, I started realizing that I've suppressed most of my memories of this yearly holiday. After spending hours re-reading those high-school days, I was glad I'd let them go and failed to remember them. The joy didn't flow through the pages until I'd met Jason and honestly things were so awesome, so happy, that I hardly ever wrote. I was so busy living life with him that I'd let years fly by in my diary--empty page after empty page. But somehow, as odd as this sounds, staring at those blank pages jogged the memory of our first Valentine's Day. As neurons fired rapidly, I smiled as I remembered it:

I'd been at school all day...watching the girls in my class get cupid-gram after cupid-gram...and rose after rose. I was a senior that year and Jason was a freshman at CU, so clearly I should have been over the whole rose/song thing, but I wasn't sure I was. Yet, I'd made it through the day in good spirits and was looking forward to our date later that night. As soon as I had walked inside my basement door, I noticed that the floor beneath me was littered in petals. Red rose petals covered our teal carpet in a trail to my room. At the age of 17, this was honestly the coolest thing ever!! On my dresser sat a dozen long-stemmed roses, a teddy bear, and a HUGE box of chocolates in the shape of a heart. There was also a few cards waiting to be read and a note that said "Call Me". I remember picking up the phone thinking, this is SO much better than a cupid-gram!

I found out later that his sweet surprise was hardly an easy feat. He'd asked my parent's permission to sneak into the house during the day and had strategically planned the drive from Boulder to Longmont in-between his own classes, making sure to miss my late-morning departure for school and my early arrival home...nothing was easier than my senior year in high school let me tell you! Ha! But back to the story. Jason had planned a lot of this well, but had forgotten one super important detail. Um, gas! He'd run out on the highway. Of all places! Bad news bears. Not only had he run out, but he couldn't think of anyone who could help him, so he started jogging to the nearest gas station...nearly 3 miles away. I laugh every time he tells me this story because not only did he have to run there, he had to run all the way back, with a shiny-red gallon of gas. Obviously he'd made it before I'd come home, but his effort alone won him the boyfriend-of-the-year award, and those chocolates tasted sweeter as he'd reenacted the scene at dinner.

This cupid-filled day lands once every year and yet while I can't remember them all, there are a few that are unforgettable. There was the one where he'd surprised me in Cali at school with flowers and a visit; or the one when he'd forgotten entirely until the night of so he purchased not one, but fourteen separate bouquets as a make-up; or the one where he surprised me with a cozy dinner that he'd made 100% on his own; or the one where he learned that I honestly do not like traditional V-day gifts--in fact, I loathe the jewelry pendants & candy. And pink is my least favorite color. Props to J for figuring that one out early-on.

Valentine's Day is around the corner again. The 10th one we've celebrated together! Ten. Our life IS love, so a specific day on the calendar seems mundane. But we'll celebrate anyway! Gives us another excuse to stay in together and be happy as pie. Happier than a cupid-gram could have ever made me. ♥

Photo: Senior Year 2002 with J.

Sickness & thoughts of OZ

Last night, I rolled over to snuggle with Jason. His skin was so hot I quickly pulled away as though I'd been burned. Cuddling was out of the question. Poor guy has had a fever for the last few days and has tried to sleep through both hot and cold sweats. I got up this morning and went to church, leaving him to sleep. I ran errands at a few places, purchased more Theraflu, and then picked up Gumbo from Q-doba. I know when he's feeling better that I'll get the wife-of-the-year award. I didn't get home until 2pm, but there he was still, curled up in bed. It's funny how you can't really remember what it's like to be sick until you are. I feel that I try to sympathize or say I understand, but it's not until I'm sick again myself that I actually feel & remember what it was like. By nature, neither of us are very sympathetic. For whatever reason, we've both grown accustomed to the "suck it up" or "walk it off" way of dealing with things. It's something my father just can't understand. But for whatever reason, we just try to be tough. Even when we aren't.

A year ago today, we were on the other side of the world. This morning, we flew to Ayer's Rock, I wrote in my journal. The only down-side is the flies. They're vicious and in so many numbers you can't count. Even though every single other person in our group bought a fly net for their face, we won't buy one. We just toughed it out...even though the flies are biting. I found this passage funny because I do remember us toughing out the gazillion flies, but I remember simple our time together more. We toured a vast desert that day, made new friends, took endless amounts of pictures, and closed the day sipping Champagne at the base of Ayer's Rock to view its color-change. Sometimes I think we're both so busy acting tough that we forget we're also big saps. We still need each other when we're sick and you'll find both of us with tears in our eyes if we reminisce about life's little moments, or when we hear a harrowing story about an animal. Well not about flies, but just about anything else!

After our Q-doba, I showed him a picture we took a year ago today. The colors on the rock were beautiful and was by far one of the best times of our lives. While I wish that tomorrow we were once again ridding camels to Sunrise, I'll take the morning in bed sipping Chai with J...even if by tomorrow, we still can't really snuggle...