Five Years

Yesterday marked five years since my wedding day. 

Yes, it's true, we share an anniversary with the Royal Couple.  I won't lie, I'm a little excited about that.

I haven't really thought through what I am going to say to commemorate this anniversary.  I mean, it's been a crazy week, right?!!  And my mind is a bit heavy with all that has gone on.  Mainly I am feeling thankful for my home and the safety of my family.  And I feel a bit shocked by the results of Wednesday's weather.  I am even wrestling with some things in my mind, since I fully understand that God is in control of the weather--complete control.  And I KNOW that he is sovereign and good.  But it still makes me wrestle. 

And at the same time as this enormous tragedy, God is also saying no to a lot of our personal, family prayers.  Things so small compared to what happened on Wednesday, but things that I know he could change in the blink of an eye, and He chooses not to.  I am wrestling with that as well. 

Intellectually, I know that God is good and that much that God chooses to do is beyond the realm of my understanding.  He is God, after all.  He is infinite in wisdom and understanding--and I am not. 

So what does this have to do with celebrating five years of marriage? 

Well, I am sure that ya'll have all heard Andrew Peterson's song, Dancing in the Minefield.  It's so great, right?  You know what I love about it?  That hard times in marriage are the norm.  If they weren't the norm, he couldn't write a successful song about marriage being hard.  Literature of any kind, or art of any kind, is based on universal truths.  This must mean that marriage being hard is a universal truth.  Are you following me?  And I know that this makes it sound like my marriage is so hard, and in fact, it's not.  As far as marriages go, Scott and I have a fairly easy one.  Our relationship has always been fairly easy.  But it's daily.  It is so daily.  And it is reality, and it can get pretty ugly at times.  So, I love these words especially...

Cause we bear the light of the son of man
So there's nothing left to fear
So I'll walk with you in the shadow lands
Till the shadows disappear
Cause he promised not to leave us
And his promises are true
So in the face of all this chaos baby
I can dance with you

This is what I know is true.  These past five years haven't been, well, smooth sailing.  They just haven't.  And Scott has seen some ugly parts of me.  But we are still going strong.  And we are just beginning, you know?  God only knows what the years have in store for us.  So, how do I know that our marriage will stand the test of time--"because HE promised not to leave us, and HIS promises are true"--and I am married to a man who takes me back to this truth.  God's grace is absolutely sufficient.  It is even sufficient for times of wrestling with what I know to be true.  And God has given me such a gift in Scott. 
 
Scott is kind to me and patient.  Always kind and patient.  It's why I loved him in the first place, and it's why I am so thankful for him now.  He is the absolute right match for me.  He is.  And there is much about our life circumstances that I wish I could change, but how gracious God is to give me this man to lead me through it. 
 
So, Scott, I echo Andrew Peterson, and say this to you,
 
So lets go dancing in the minefields
Lets go sailing in the storms
Oh lets go dancing in the minefields
And kicking down the doors
Oh lets go dancing in the minefields
And sailing in the storms
Oh this is harder than we dreamed
But I believe that's what the promise is for
That's what the promise is for

five years ago at our rehearsal dinner, not really having one clue what we were getting into;)

And this one I love so much more than the rehearsal dinner picture because it's real life.  One of those defining marriage moments--finally bringing John home from the hospital. 

Happy five years, Scott.  I am praying for many, many more.

A Few Tidbits

So, it's about a year later (exaggeration), and I still haven't told you about what is happening over at Scott's blog.  So here it is in summary.

Scott, along with 29 other bloggers, are trying to raise 30,000 dollars, "30 bloggers, 30 days, 30,000 dollars."  "Why?" you ask.  Because 20.00 gives one person 20 years of clean water.  Crazy, right?  If you head over to Scott's blog you can find out the details.  But, please, check it out, and consider donating!! 

No clean water. It quickly puts things into perspective.  These days I find myself fretting over the fact that our budget doesn't allow me to feed my family only grass fed beef and farm fresh eggs laid by pastured chickens, and then I think, but we have clean water.  We have clean water.

On a completely other note...I am in love with the munchkin mesh feeder.  (not the real name).  I am on a crusade to spread the word about this wonderful contraption.  It has saved my sanity, and I think will be my go-to baby gift from now on.  It goes with us everywhere.

John likes it too.  Here it is filled with cooked sweet potato.  He has also used it to eat banana, pear, avocado, and watermelon.  He loves it all.  I stick it in the fridge to make it really cold, and I think it feels good to his teething gums.  I don't have to make his baby food, he's doing it himself.  Self-sufficient; I like it.

And remember all that talk about turning the television off?  We're still watching.

Do you see John showing off his new sitting up skills?  He still hasn't conquered an official crawl, but he is giving it his all.  Any day now, any day.

Father's Day

We are a blessed crew to have Scott as our husband and daddy.  We love him, love him, love him.  He puts up with my crazy up and down emotions and Ada's endless energy and John's need to wake up at all hours of the night.  I mean this in all truthfulness, Scott is probably the most patient man I have ever met.  He quietly walks through this life with me, and I am so glad that he is my partner.  Truly, if I were to describe Scott using two words, I would say patient and kind.  Always patient and kind. 

Ada adores him.  No one makes her laugh like her daddy.  He makes her laugh deep from her belly.  I am unable to produce those laughs from her.  He comes home from a long day of work and he plays and plays with her, running around the house and flipping her upside down, while I stand in the background saying, "please, Scott, be careful," and they always ignore my warnings. 

I know that John will soon adore him; probably in a way that only a son can.  I see it in Luke and Andrew as they love Steven and my own daddy.  Though Andrew is still young enough to prefer Near a lot of the time.

I am also thankful for my own daddy, and Scott's dad.  We were given such a gift in fathers who were faithful to our mothers, who worked hard to provide for their families, who were very present in our lives and continue to be present in our lives and our children's lives. 

I posted this poem two years ago, but I have to post it again.  It is one of my favorites and it certainly speaks of the love of my own father, Scott's father, and now Scott.  Parenting, it's a thankless job most of the time, but I am surrounded by men who fully embraced what they had to do. 

Those Winter Sundays 

Sundays too my father got up early
And put his clothes on in the blueback cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.

I'd wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he'd call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,

Speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love's austere and lonely offices?

--Robert Hayden

(photography by Cindy Stansberry Photography)

Wedding Dress Fiasco

So...I felt the need to reflect on something other than potty training, since we are celebrating four years of marriage today.  (But really, potty training does more accurately reflect our marriage at this point).

And I realized that I have never written about the near disaster caused by a wedding dress that just wouldn't cooperate.

Soon after Scott and I got engaged (which I never told the story, oh well, maybe next year), I started thinking about wedding dresses.  Okay, I had already been thinking about wedding dresses for a very long time, but I started thinking specifically about what wedding dress I wanted to actually wear, on my actual wedding day.  I had three specific things I was looking for--a big skirt, box pleats, and a dropped waist.  Oh, and I was fairly certain that I wanted strapless.  Well, it dawned on me that Ann's wedding dress had a big skirt, with box pleats, and a dropped waist.  Perfect, right? 

So we took the dress to a local Scottsboro shop to see if they could change it from an off the shoulder to a strapless dress, and they said, sure, no problem.

In the mean time, I began to diet and work out, you know to get in shape for the big day.  What girl doesn't do this?  I mean if there is ever a time to look your best, this is it.

Well, I was going to fittings, and of course I noticed that the dress was rather heavy, and I noticed that they were having to take it up quite a bit in the bodice, but no big deal, right?

Wrong.

On the day of my wedding, when I finally had the dress on, and I began to walk around, I realized we had a problem.  The dress would not stay up.  This dress was not meant to be a strapless dress, and it was just too heavy.  Plus, I had lost some weight between the final fitting and the wedding day.  Combine these two things, and I was in a bit of a panic.  Luckily, I had 13 bridesmaids to help me out:)

We tried duct tape.  We tried holding my arms very tight against the dress as I walked.  I tried panicking and crying and racking my brain for an alternate plan.  Guess what?  I had no back up wedding dress, which is what I announced to the room.  "This is my only dress option,"  I announced.  You think?  And we went back to holding my arms against my side in an attempt to hold the dress up.

Well, we hoped this would work, and I went on with the day.  And soon it was the big moment.  Time to walk down the aisle. 

I am so very happy, eyes on my groom, believing that everything is going just as it should, and I reach the end of the aisle.

And then I feel my mother walk up behind me, and give a big jerk on my dress--as in she pulled it up.  As in, this was not done in the rehearsal.  And I had no idea how low my dress had been as I walked down the aisle.  In horror, I imagined that I had walked down the aisle flashing the world.  Oh the horror. 

My back was to the crowd at this point, and every one of my bridesmaids could see the terror on my face.  The guests were singing the hymn that I had picked, and I was silently pleading with Ann to reassure me that I had not, in fact, flashed the entire sanctuary.  on my wedding day!!!  She, along with the other 12 bridesmaids, kept huge smiles on their faces, as they were facing the crowd, and she kept mouthing, "it's okay, it's okay." 

I managed to get through the ceremony, and actually pay attention to the vows I was making--the covenant I was entering into--but in the back of my mind, all I could think about was my mother pulling my wedding dress up. 

As soon as the ceremony was over, I did find out that it wasn't as bad as imagined.  The dress was coming down in the back, but my mom pulled it up in order to prevent anything worse happening. 

I loved my wedding, and I often wish I could relive the day.  But if I did, and I once again opted for a strapless dress, I would choose one that was made to be strapless.  Single girls, learn from my mistake.

p.s.  Ada has used the bathroom in the potty twice!!!  And on our anniversary, I have called Scott three times at work, not to tell him how much I love him and how happy I am that he married me, but to update him on the potty training progress.  Now that is what marriage really is, right?

Anniversary Week

On Thursday, Scott and I celebrate four years of marriage, so I thought I would use this week to take a little walk down memory lane.

What you see above is a picture that was taken when Scott I had been dating for maybe two weeks?  We were headed to ADPi's Spring semi-formal, and we were new enough that I was feeling a bit nervous.  We were double dating with my dear friend and future bridesmaid, Shannon Farrar (now Vinsen--she married Allen, the guy in the picture).

What is significant about this night?  Scott held my hand for the first time;).  I know, big deal, right?  But I still remember him reaching back to take my hand as we made our way through a very crowded room, and I felt a bit "giggly" on the inside.

I was a senior in college when Scott and I started dating.  I lived in a very big old house with 12 other girls, and Scott and his guy friends often hung out at our place.  Scott had a class with Shannon (pictured above), and he came over to study one night.  I shared a room with Shannon, and I had just changed my major from fashion to English second semester of my junior year.  I remember sitting on my bed, clumsily making my way through The Canterbury Tales written entirely in middle English.  Every once in a while, I would say something out to loud to Shannon and Scott, venting my frustration over the language of the story.  From that night on, Scott and I were good friends, though it would be many months before the relationship would become anything more than that--good friends.  Scott was liking someone else at the time, as was I, and we had the luxury of getting to know each other apart from any complicated games that often come with guy/girl relationships.

I think discovering that we liked each other as more than friends came as a surprise to both of us.  My life was in a messy place at that time, and I was somewhat confused that this was when God decided that my future husband should show up.  I remember thinking, as I waded through the mess of that year, that surely Scott was going to decide that it just wasn't worth it.  I prayed, oh I prayed, because it didn't make a lot of sense that he was sticking around.  But he stuck.  And we stuck.  And here we are, two babies later, and my life is still pretty messy most of the time.  From the very beginning, Scott has been a calming force in the midst of my mess, and I am so thankful for who he is.  It was his kind heart that first attracted me to him.  He seemed like the safest person in the whole world at the time, and he continues to be my "safe place."

Tomorrow I will share the proposal story...I know you can hardly wait;)

Surprised

I turned 27 today. 27 years old--only 3 more birthdays until 30.

Yesterday I asked Scott if I look 30 because I feel 21. I think that I will eternally feel 21. It was just a few short years ago that I was walking the halls of Pebblebrook when I was mistaken for a student. I had to show my teacher id to avoid detention. But, it's hard to tell what I look like now.

The budget is tight these days. Tighter than usual, I mean, because of traveling and Ada's birthday and that annoying root canal and the sickness that took over our lives during first trimester, so Scott and I really planned to do nothing for my birthday. I did tell Scott that I was going to pick up some canned Pillsbury cinnamon rolls at Kroger and stick a candle in one. It's all I really wanted. I adore those things. Scott kept saying that he wished we could do something more, and I kept saying that it really didn't matter--and, truthfully, it didn't. I wasn't worried about it.

This morning, Scott hurried off to work, having slept through the alarm, and Ada and I began our day as usual. Then, 20 minutes later, the door bell rang. There stood Scott, flowers in one hand and a can of cinnamon rolls in the other. I was shocked and concerned about how late he was for work. And then the surprise came--he took the day off!!!!

Now that is my kind of birthday present.

Ada and I had been facing what could have been a very long day. We had no plans, not one, and I wasn't sure how we were going to fill the hours. And then, Scott came home, and all of a sudden, things were looking up. It's been a simple birthday, not much different than every other day, except that I didn't have to parent alone. I had company, and that made the day special.

Funny how our birthday wishes change once we turn into grown ups. Do you agree?

Sweet Scott

I must take a minute to brag on my husband. He is currently going above and beyond the call of duty as husband and dad.

After spending the whole day watching Ada while I slept away the nausea, he is now downstairs cleaning the kitchen and the living room. And I do mean cleaning. When I said good-night, he had moved all of the chairs out of the kitchen so that he could sweep and mop the floor.

And, because I am so proud of him being Mr. Fix-It, I also must tell you that he fixed our breaks today. I must confess that I was very skeptical, but I have apologized over and over again for doubting his ability because lo and behold, he did it, and it saved us quite a bit of money.

I think (because he mentioned this) he is feeling the urge to learn how to "take care of things" around the house just in case he needs to teach his son one day. I keep warning him that we have no way of knowing whether this baby is a boy or a girl, and he says he will be excited either way, but I sense that his heart is set on boy. I honestly think it would be fun for Ada to have a little sister, but of course, either gender holds much excitement as we imagine what this little person will add to our family.

Though I love Ada and all of her sass and spunk, I do hope that God might send me a little quiet, go with the flow, servant type, Scott. Ada has all of my emotions plus some, I do believe, so I think a mini-Scott would be just the thing to add to the family. We'll see, though. God is already knitting this little one together, and I have no doubt that he knows exactly what will work best for us.

By the way, as I was saying good-night, we both admitted to each other that we hate this part of pregnancy. I know that I am no fun to be around right now. We then had fun imagining what pregnancy would have been like without the fall of man. Hmmm...I am guessing no sickness and the most minimal of weight gain. Or maybe the weight gain would be considered beautiful...hmmm? We also talked about how simple labor and delivery would be. Oh well, it is part of the curse, right? And Scott is feeling it with me, bless his heart. I am so thankful that he loves me unconditionally;)