A year review in pictures:
What a 2012!! Happy 2013!
xoxo,
A
12.31.2012
12.20.2012
My Best Christmas Gift.
Have you ever wanted something really badly? Maybe at Christmastime as a child there was a toy you had to have. When I was young, I had to have Puppy and Kitty Surprise. Do you remember those? It was a stuffed animal literally stuffed with an unknown number of puppies/kitties inside her velcroed tummy. Kind of macabre, since the whole party would count as you pulled the babies out of her belly.
But do you know what I mean? Wanting something so badly, you can feel it? That yearning, that hope? Maybe you wanted to go home so badly you could taste it. Maybe you wanted to go on vacation more than anything. Or maybe, like me, you wanted a husband.
I didn't just want any old husband, or just a male to hang around so I wouldn't be lonely. More than anything, I wanted that one man who God had picked out just for me. I wanted a husband who would be godly, funny, attractive, and my best friend. At times, I wanted it so badly it hurt. Other times, it seemed it would be something I always wanted but would never receive.
Then suddenly, I had it. And I am so, so thankful. My husband is the best gift (other than salvation) I've ever received, because I wanted it so badly and for so long. He is my favorite Christmas gift this year, and probably forever. Here are some reasons why:
He's learning how to act around children, and he does a great job with our niece. He puts on a good show, but I know his insides melt like butter.
He got all dolled up and married me. He chose me, for some reason. And he choked up when we read our vows. That means a lot to me.
He loves many of the same things I love (here, America :) ).
He also loves many of the foods I love (here, Chipotle).
He's really cute, and does really cute things, not even on purpose. I mean, look at him.
He lost 40 pounds. I liked him with his extra 40 pounds, but he was so dedicated to getting healthy. I'm proud of him.
He hams it up and is so handsome, too. Observe my funny, handsome, husband.
He's a great travel companion.
He is just so adorable. And he loves our puppy.
Thank you, God, for my favorite Christmas gift ever.
xoxo, A
12.17.2012
A Moment to Breathe!
I'm shocked. Here it is, 8 days before Christmas, and do you know what I'm doing? I'm sitting in my pajamas on the couch, watching TV as my puppy gnaws happily on a bone on the floor.
My Christmas shopping is done, everything is wrapped, the cookies are made and have been passed out. My house is a little cluttered, as it is often is, but is essentially cleaned. All my grocery shopping for the three desserts (pumpkin cheesecake, double chocolate cake, and apple pie) I'm making for Christmas Eve and the massive Christmas Day brunch are bought and planned. Reviews of these will show up later, trust me.
The fact that I have an evening to myself to relax is an astonishing blessing from the Lord. He is so good to me. After an extremely tumultuous last couple of weeks, my voice is finally on the mend, we bought a car (hallelujah!), and Christmas joy is in the air!!
I know it will get crazy soon, as Saturday we're doing Disney (YAY!!!), Sunday is the last Bucs game with a concert, and then WHAM! Christmas Eve and Christmas Day-- then my parents come for a visit! But for now, here's a moment I'm allowing myself to enjoy. I'm doing nothing, I'm breathing, and I'm relaxing. Aaaahhh.
I hope you get a moment to yourself to do the same!
xoxo, A
My Christmas shopping is done, everything is wrapped, the cookies are made and have been passed out. My house is a little cluttered, as it is often is, but is essentially cleaned. All my grocery shopping for the three desserts (pumpkin cheesecake, double chocolate cake, and apple pie) I'm making for Christmas Eve and the massive Christmas Day brunch are bought and planned. Reviews of these will show up later, trust me.
The fact that I have an evening to myself to relax is an astonishing blessing from the Lord. He is so good to me. After an extremely tumultuous last couple of weeks, my voice is finally on the mend, we bought a car (hallelujah!), and Christmas joy is in the air!!
I know it will get crazy soon, as Saturday we're doing Disney (YAY!!!), Sunday is the last Bucs game with a concert, and then WHAM! Christmas Eve and Christmas Day-- then my parents come for a visit! But for now, here's a moment I'm allowing myself to enjoy. I'm doing nothing, I'm breathing, and I'm relaxing. Aaaahhh.
I hope you get a moment to yourself to do the same!
xoxo, A
12.11.2012
The Christmas Spirit
There's a whole lot working against me in my fight for "the Christmas spirit" this year.
1. I'm staying in Florida, not Chicago, which means:
3. I have entirely lost my voice. It's not scratchy, hoarse, or even, as Hband calls it, "Rusty." It is gone and I am mute but for whispers, which means:
Have any other newlyweds felt a twinge of sadness at this change? I think I might have even felt it if I were living in Chicago with Hband in our own place, because I still wouldn't be waking up at my parents' house and clambering down the stairs to enjoy the bounty under the tree and in the kitchen. It's just a lot all at once, I guess.
And so I don't have the Christmas spirit, as they say.
Then I hear Charlie Brown say, "Isn't there anyone who knows what Christmas is really about?" Followed shortly thereafter by Linus' reply: "Sure Charlie Brown. I'll tell you what Christmas is all about." And he recites from Luke 2.
So maybe this year needn't be about the snow, the cold, the Christmas carols, the traditions-- but rather about what it's REALLY about anyway. Maybe if I focus on why we celebrate this day: the birth of God made flesh-- Jesus Christ, I will feel Christmas-y, in the best kind of way.
It's so easy to let everything else (good things, even) become more important than the most important thing ever: Jesus Christ, the Savior of my sins.
So that's my goal this year: I want to enjoy Christmas for what it really is, and then maybe the other stuff will fall in line. I have much to be thankful for and enjoy this Christmas; not the least of which is my salvation. I pray that will be what puts me in the Christmas spirit this year. I pray that for you, too.
Meanwhile, here are some kind of cruddy pictures of my holiday trimmings. I promise they look better in person.
xoxo, A
1. I'm staying in Florida, not Chicago, which means:
- missing family
- no cold
- no snow
- no Nutcracker Ballet
- no traditions I've built for the last 28 years
3. I have entirely lost my voice. It's not scratchy, hoarse, or even, as Hband calls it, "Rusty." It is gone and I am mute but for whispers, which means:
- no Christmas singing Christmas carols, something I wait until after Thanksgiving to do and relish for a whole month
- no reading Christmas stories to my classes
- Playing "A Muppet Christmas Carol" for my students
- Having an "It's a Wonderful Life" party
- Cranking up "The Nutcracker Suite"
Have any other newlyweds felt a twinge of sadness at this change? I think I might have even felt it if I were living in Chicago with Hband in our own place, because I still wouldn't be waking up at my parents' house and clambering down the stairs to enjoy the bounty under the tree and in the kitchen. It's just a lot all at once, I guess.
And so I don't have the Christmas spirit, as they say.
Then I hear Charlie Brown say, "Isn't there anyone who knows what Christmas is really about?" Followed shortly thereafter by Linus' reply: "Sure Charlie Brown. I'll tell you what Christmas is all about." And he recites from Luke 2.
So maybe this year needn't be about the snow, the cold, the Christmas carols, the traditions-- but rather about what it's REALLY about anyway. Maybe if I focus on why we celebrate this day: the birth of God made flesh-- Jesus Christ, I will feel Christmas-y, in the best kind of way.
It's so easy to let everything else (good things, even) become more important than the most important thing ever: Jesus Christ, the Savior of my sins.
So that's my goal this year: I want to enjoy Christmas for what it really is, and then maybe the other stuff will fall in line. I have much to be thankful for and enjoy this Christmas; not the least of which is my salvation. I pray that will be what puts me in the Christmas spirit this year. I pray that for you, too.
Meanwhile, here are some kind of cruddy pictures of my holiday trimmings. I promise they look better in person.
our Christmas Dachshund train, from Mike's mom, and my sparkly pine cone lights from Bestie :)
our DIY sparkly Christmas banner in the dining room
A close up of the garland.
Above the desk
My DIY canvases... didn't turn out as planned, but sufficient
Above the e-center
Hahahaha... watching "Seinfeld, of course
Notice we have our stockings hung here, including Lucia's little one!
Our living room-- not fancy, but Christmasy
our little tree
some special ornaments :)
our new sparkly sign
xoxo, A
12.07.2012
A Change
On Tuesday, my life changed. It's funny and also scary how just a split second can change everything.
You see that plus sign on the pee stick-- BAM. Changed. Didn't happen to me, though.
You get that acceptance letter to college-- BAM. Changed. That happened a long time ago.
You say "yes" and put that ring on your finger-- BAM. Changed. That already happened too.
The biopsy comes back positive for cancer-- BAM. Changed. Thank God that's not it.
I hadn't thought about how quickly life could change since I lived at home and my dad used to scare the crap out of me by saying things like, "one poor choice--you lose control of the car, you accidentally kill someone, and your life will never be the same. Saying 'sorry' won't help." That's not just me, right-- that's terrifying, isn't it?!!
That's probably why I say "I love you" before I leave or hang up with anyone I love. I realize that in a moment, life could change.
And on Tuesday, my life changed. It's not as dramatic as all that, but it's still pretty big in my life.
On Tuesday, I had picked up Lucia from my mother-in-law's house, as usual, and was heading home like every other Tuesday. I must have driven that route literally 100 times. But this time, as I was driving in the far left lane, a PT Cruiser with an elderly man inside decided to pull out and turn left from a parking lot on the right. Instead of crossing three lanes of traffic and waiting in the median to cross the next three, he decided to pull into my lane and face me. I was going 45 (the speed limit) and swerved into the median, slamming on my brakes. It wasn't enough. He smashed into my front right passenger side. My airbags went off with a deafening POP, filling the car and my lungs with a horrible gun powder smell.
I could scarcely believe what had just happened, though I watched him slam into my car. It was terrifying. I was shaking and immediately started crying. My mind was racing-- what do I do? I have to call Mike. And a tow truck. What was his license plate in case he drives away? Should I stay in here? Fortunately, some amazing people pulled their cars into the median to help me. Faith in humanity restored. In fact, one young man I would have normally categorized as a "douchebag," knocked on my window. I opened my door and he said, "You should probably get out." Still shaking, tears running down my face, I grabbed the dog, who I hoped wasn't deaf from the airbags, and my purse. The dog peed AND pooped all over my skirt and shirt, and as I stood there for what felt like five minutes, just trying to remember how to find my husband's phone number on my phone, these Good Samaritans called 911 and helped keep me safe from the cars whizzing around me. Some real jerks shouted out their windows, "You can't park there!" Yeah, thanks buddy. I like to park in the median and cry, with dog feces and urine on my clothes. Cool. It's OK-- Mr. Not-Douchebag gave him the finger. Maybe he really was a douchebag with a good heart?
The firetruck came and a nice fireman cleaned the poop off Lucia's butt, and my finger, and I got the names and numbers of two kind people. Well, I got their names and numbers after this girls dug around in my purse for the pen, since I had poo on my finger. Their kindness really touched me.
I was finally able to walk to the side of the road, where I just sat, crying and shaking. Still my mind raced. Mike has work tonight! How will he get dinner? Will he be late? What am I going to do? How are we going to afford a new car?
My mother-in-law came and hugged me. She ordered me to sit down in the car and Hband is pretty sure she would have wrestled me if I hadn't listened to her. Hband made it around the same time and I hugged him like I never wanted to leave him, because I didn't. I was so scared.
A report was filed, the old man was cited, and The Golden Bullet, my faithful car of many years, was towed. And like that, things were quiet again. For those of you who have experienced an accident, this may be tame for you. But for me, this was terrifying. Because I realized that in that one second, life could have changed even more than it had. God protected Lucia and me in a way I don't understand. It was almost a head-on collision. Lucia should have been hurt. The airbag should have hit my face. But she was fine, and I was fine-- just whiplash and a couple bruises.
But life still changed. We went from owning two reliable, albiet old cars, to having to find a way to fit a car payment into our tight budget. That is a big change for a couple who are desperately paying down debt and struggling month-to-month.
But God proved his faithfulness once again. I was alive. Our dog was alive. I didn't have to go to the hospital. We would be fine. God knew about this before I woke up in the morning. Heck, he knew about it before I was born. So he has a plan and will provide, and it will be good.
Meanwhile though, it's a real headache.
But twice that night, Hband said, "I'm glad you're not dead." To anyone else, that sounds caustic and harsh. To me, with a husband who's not very sappy, it meant a lot. Even if I'd be happy to see Jesus, I'm glad I could spend the evening cuddling up to my husband and dog, watching "How I Met Your Mother."
Life changed for me, but part of that change is remembering to savor every moment until it changes again.
xoxo, A
You see that plus sign on the pee stick-- BAM. Changed. Didn't happen to me, though.
You get that acceptance letter to college-- BAM. Changed. That happened a long time ago.
You say "yes" and put that ring on your finger-- BAM. Changed. That already happened too.
The biopsy comes back positive for cancer-- BAM. Changed. Thank God that's not it.
I hadn't thought about how quickly life could change since I lived at home and my dad used to scare the crap out of me by saying things like, "one poor choice--you lose control of the car, you accidentally kill someone, and your life will never be the same. Saying 'sorry' won't help." That's not just me, right-- that's terrifying, isn't it?!!
That's probably why I say "I love you" before I leave or hang up with anyone I love. I realize that in a moment, life could change.
And on Tuesday, my life changed. It's not as dramatic as all that, but it's still pretty big in my life.
On Tuesday, I had picked up Lucia from my mother-in-law's house, as usual, and was heading home like every other Tuesday. I must have driven that route literally 100 times. But this time, as I was driving in the far left lane, a PT Cruiser with an elderly man inside decided to pull out and turn left from a parking lot on the right. Instead of crossing three lanes of traffic and waiting in the median to cross the next three, he decided to pull into my lane and face me. I was going 45 (the speed limit) and swerved into the median, slamming on my brakes. It wasn't enough. He smashed into my front right passenger side. My airbags went off with a deafening POP, filling the car and my lungs with a horrible gun powder smell.
I could scarcely believe what had just happened, though I watched him slam into my car. It was terrifying. I was shaking and immediately started crying. My mind was racing-- what do I do? I have to call Mike. And a tow truck. What was his license plate in case he drives away? Should I stay in here? Fortunately, some amazing people pulled their cars into the median to help me. Faith in humanity restored. In fact, one young man I would have normally categorized as a "douchebag," knocked on my window. I opened my door and he said, "You should probably get out." Still shaking, tears running down my face, I grabbed the dog, who I hoped wasn't deaf from the airbags, and my purse. The dog peed AND pooped all over my skirt and shirt, and as I stood there for what felt like five minutes, just trying to remember how to find my husband's phone number on my phone, these Good Samaritans called 911 and helped keep me safe from the cars whizzing around me. Some real jerks shouted out their windows, "You can't park there!" Yeah, thanks buddy. I like to park in the median and cry, with dog feces and urine on my clothes. Cool. It's OK-- Mr. Not-Douchebag gave him the finger. Maybe he really was a douchebag with a good heart?
The firetruck came and a nice fireman cleaned the poop off Lucia's butt, and my finger, and I got the names and numbers of two kind people. Well, I got their names and numbers after this girls dug around in my purse for the pen, since I had poo on my finger. Their kindness really touched me.
I was finally able to walk to the side of the road, where I just sat, crying and shaking. Still my mind raced. Mike has work tonight! How will he get dinner? Will he be late? What am I going to do? How are we going to afford a new car?
My mother-in-law came and hugged me. She ordered me to sit down in the car and Hband is pretty sure she would have wrestled me if I hadn't listened to her. Hband made it around the same time and I hugged him like I never wanted to leave him, because I didn't. I was so scared.
A report was filed, the old man was cited, and The Golden Bullet, my faithful car of many years, was towed. And like that, things were quiet again. For those of you who have experienced an accident, this may be tame for you. But for me, this was terrifying. Because I realized that in that one second, life could have changed even more than it had. God protected Lucia and me in a way I don't understand. It was almost a head-on collision. Lucia should have been hurt. The airbag should have hit my face. But she was fine, and I was fine-- just whiplash and a couple bruises.
But life still changed. We went from owning two reliable, albiet old cars, to having to find a way to fit a car payment into our tight budget. That is a big change for a couple who are desperately paying down debt and struggling month-to-month.
But God proved his faithfulness once again. I was alive. Our dog was alive. I didn't have to go to the hospital. We would be fine. God knew about this before I woke up in the morning. Heck, he knew about it before I was born. So he has a plan and will provide, and it will be good.
Meanwhile though, it's a real headache.
But twice that night, Hband said, "I'm glad you're not dead." To anyone else, that sounds caustic and harsh. To me, with a husband who's not very sappy, it meant a lot. Even if I'd be happy to see Jesus, I'm glad I could spend the evening cuddling up to my husband and dog, watching "How I Met Your Mother."
Life changed for me, but part of that change is remembering to savor every moment until it changes again.
xoxo, A
12.06.2012
Ode to Sweater Weather
Oh sweater weather. I love it dearly. It has, however, eluded the Gulf Coast, and we are "enjoying" a heat wave in December. Puke. How can one properly get into the Christmas spirit when it's 80 degrees outside?!
But seriously, I love sweaters. I love how they hide the mysterious bulges that are evidence of my love of all things carbohydrates and sugar. I love how if it is sweater weather, it is also pants weather (one would hope), which means I don't have to shave my legs for three months. Well, alright-- because I love my husband, I'll do it more frequently than that. But only for Hband.
But see, it's not sweater weather here. I still have to shave my legs every day because-- gag-- shorts are still climate appropriate here. In rebellion against the Florida weather, I've put all my shorts away in space-saving bags under my bed. In their place in my drawers are sweaters. Glorious sweaters that make me sweat like a Siberian Husky unless it is precisely 50 degrees or colder outside. Beautiful sweaters that, while masking mysterious fat bulges, still somehow make me look like a cardboard box wearing a sweater.
Maybe sweaters aren't so great after all.
Nah, I still love 'em. But I love sweater weather even more.
xoxo, A
But seriously, I love sweaters. I love how they hide the mysterious bulges that are evidence of my love of all things carbohydrates and sugar. I love how if it is sweater weather, it is also pants weather (one would hope), which means I don't have to shave my legs for three months. Well, alright-- because I love my husband, I'll do it more frequently than that. But only for Hband.
But see, it's not sweater weather here. I still have to shave my legs every day because-- gag-- shorts are still climate appropriate here. In rebellion against the Florida weather, I've put all my shorts away in space-saving bags under my bed. In their place in my drawers are sweaters. Glorious sweaters that make me sweat like a Siberian Husky unless it is precisely 50 degrees or colder outside. Beautiful sweaters that, while masking mysterious fat bulges, still somehow make me look like a cardboard box wearing a sweater.
Maybe sweaters aren't so great after all.
Nah, I still love 'em. But I love sweater weather even more.
xoxo, A
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