The Secret to a Long and Happy Marriage // Take 2

The Husband and I have a pretty fun life and we crack up at each other a lot.  So far, I think that is The Secret to a Long and Happy Marriage.  I actually am sure that one friend gave us that as wedding advice- "Laugh at each other all the time!  We sure do!"  Great advice.
We also have some pretty funny friends.  We laugh with them and at them constantly.  This weekend we celebrated Jen and Clayton's upcoming Hawaiian wedding with some our very funny friends.

Oh yes, there were worms.

There were LOTS of worms.

As you can see Very.Funny.People.  Can I proclaim them as The Secret to a Long and Happy Marriage?  Well, that may be just a bit much, right?  But this cast of characters is sure to always get us laughing with them, at them, and fortunately, at each other.

Edislow...

An afternoon at the beach does a mind, body, and spirit good.  Just wear sunscreen.

P.i.e.c.e.s of Me

Growing up Mama always was on me about my room.  Now that I am older and married, The Husband has been on me about the garage.  Apparently, it bothers some folks how I will keep things.  I keep everything from old Tshirts and ticket stubs to old notebooks.  Every time I go to throw something away I think about how it reminds me of some moment in my life.  I fear that if I throw it away, then something as significant as a piece of me will be gone forever.  Since my childhood Sunday afternoons consisted of cleaning my room for Mom, I decided to tackle the garage this Sunday for The Husband.  Pictures from prom, college notebooks, and my students' drawings lay scattered in the garage as I went through each scrap and examined it for importance.

In my college freshman Geology 101 notebook I found a page that if I had thrown it away I would have lost a piece of me.  And no, it has nothing to do with rocks.  (For the record, Geology was the the one class in college of which I received a D.  Who knew you actually had to know more than "This is hard and ugly.  This is a rock.")  Among these old dusty pages of rock names and drawings of rocks with smiley faces I found a letter that I wrote during class (may have something to do with that D).  It was addressed to my "little Luke" and while reading it I remembered my 18 year old version of myself.  I am so glad that I didn't throw away this part of me.

dear little luke,
i had no idea that i was going to love you this much.  i keep dreaming about what type of person you are going to grow up to be and all of the events that are going to fill up your life.  God has an amazing plan for you.  i just cannot get over how cute and perfect your little features are.  when you smile or make noises i could just eat you up.  always know that i love you more than you can imagine and i will forever be here whenever you need me.
"do not fear, for I am with you;
do not be dismayed, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you;
I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."
-Isaiah 41:10

It seems like back then I knew more about my true Rock than the clumps of mud and clay I was studying.  And so that sweet little find is exactly why I cannot throw things away and why my room and my garage are forever going to be a mess.  A whole mess of important pieces of me.

Happy Anniversary!

 Well, I suppose it is my anniversary.  It was this week, a year ago, that I was laid up in bed with a broken foot and trying to start a new hobby- writing a blog.  In celebration of my anniversary I'd like to reflect on the things that I have learned in this past year about life and myself.

1. I can follow a recipe.  But if all else fails, butter makes just about everything taste better.

2.  The love my family has for each other is strong and endless- no matter what.

3. I am a great teacher and I love what I do.

 4. I have absolutely nothing figured out, but I can learn from anyone.

5. In 2001, this wasn't exactly where I planned my life to be in 10 years.  This is even better.

To me, #5 really says it all.  Yeah, I have also learned some tough lessons this year.  Growing up is full of tough lessons, but regardless of the lesson- I have learned that I am truly, most definitely, without a doubt, so very happy.

All Love

This mother's day my mom gave me a card.  Very strange, I thought, considering that I have not had the privilege of producing her any grandchildren to date.  But when I read the card and what she wrote, I realized that I do come as close as I can to being a mother 5 days a week- even if it is to someone else's child.  When I stop to think about all those emotions that I have day in and day out with these children, I do see that I tend to regard them as my own.  They bring me laughter, tears, and sometimes disappointment.  But tonight, my boys made me proud.

At their orchestra concert, I watched with a smile the size of Texas plastered on my face as they stroked their instruments perfectly to create music- really beautiful music (in a somewhat off-key sort of way).  Like a crazy mama, I clapped the loudest and the longest.  I even yelled out a "Bravo" at the end when I gave a standing ovation.  They were naturals!  After they finished, they all ran up to give me a hug.  Then I hugged their parents who introduced me to every auntie, cousin, granny, sister, and friend that had come to be as proud of my boys as I was.  It was a great feeling- another emotion- and it made me think of mom's card.  With all of the emotions these kids bring on me, I know the only reason any of it matters is because of love.  And I really do love my children- all of them- just like any crazy mama would.

Worth It

Ahhh.  It finally rained today.  There was a time when I didn't look forward to rain so much- like when it rained out my soccer games or kept me cooped up inside too long.  But now, rain is welcomed. Rain is even celebrated.  Rain reminds you what is underneath all of the muck and that if you hold out through the storm...it'll be worth it.

Her Dainty, Old, Snotty Rags

Inside of this guy...

...there is this girl.  And inside of her...

...there are these.

And these are old. 

 Soooo old. 

And I love them.

 You see, I love old things.  I love my oldest silk pillow cases.  I love our old dog, Bailey.  I love my oldest t-shirts.  I love old jewelry.  I love old black and white movies.  I love older men.  (The Husband is almost 30...well, almost.)  But I really do love these old "rags."  I take them out from time to time and carefully go through and inspect their every square centimeter.

I look at their dainty details and sweet stitches.

  I laugh at the lacy-ruffly ones.

  The floral one always seems to catch me off guard.  And so does this one, but for a whole different reason.  This one melts my heart.

 They don't hold my memories, but looking at them brings me such a comfort.  I will always wonder "When she was wiping her mouth or blowing her nose, did she ever think that one day some crazy relative was going to be fingering through them, admiring them and smelling them?"  I doubt it, but I don't care either.  I love her dainty, old, snotty rags.