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Gratitude

Written on June 9, 2010 by Jennifer in Lucky Me, Pictures

I have a very blessed life.

I have two healthy children, an employed spouse, a completely “normal” extended family, a roof over our heads, food to eat for every meal, everyday.

I feel my limbs trapped in the web of the if onlys. The good is too easy to overlook, but why? How do I allow the fights, frustrations, the feeling of being overwhelmed, and the choice to simmer in my own head and negative talk become my focus? I can’t get past my own stubborness or anger to see all of the good that is constantly surrounding me.

I have a very blessed life.

My camera and my photographs help remind me to truly see all that is good.

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Mommyblogger crimes

Written on May 10, 2010 by Jennifer in Little Monkeys, Lucky Me, Mommydom, Pictures

I’ve committed two of the worst sins that a mommyblogger could commit.

Firstly, I failed at wishing those of you who are mothers a Happy Mother’s Day yesterday. Please forgive me, I’ve been busy being a MOTHER, so certainly you understand. I want you to know that _I_ know just how hard you work as a mom and just how little recognition that you get. I know all about the doctor’s appointment that you remembered to make for your kiddo (an appointment you made while you stirred dinner on the stove, broke up a fight, and changed a load of laundry). I also know that you can find almost any lost toy/lovey/umbrella/lunch box/shoe. I know that you remembered to pick up another gallon of milk and that you know that the macaroni and cheese most certainly cannot touch the strawberries OR ELSE. I know that you lose it sometimes and that sometimes you feel like you’re overwhelmed.

I’m really just trying to say that I KNOW about all the things you do and I’m totally impressed with your awesomeness.

Sin, the second, is a crime so heinous, I pray the mommyblogging police don’t come after me.

Three years ago yesterday, I gave birth to a five pound, seven ounce baby girl, which means that I didn’t write the obligatory birthday post yesterday for my baby, who ISN’T A BABY ANYMORE.

She’s my little girl, without whom, the world wouldn’t be as bright, my sides wouldn’t be so sore from laughing, and my family would be woefully incomplete. I cannot find the words to type in a single blog post that could even come close to conveying how much I adore my beautiful girl.

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Three positive pregnancy tests means triplets right? KIDDING. I’m not pregnant. Seriously. I’m not pregnant.

Written on April 12, 2010 by Jennifer in Little Monkeys, Lucky Me, marriage, Mommydom, Pictures

In my recent organizing madness, I tackled my medicine cabinet. Alongside expired Benadryl and An*lpram (what? don’t pretend like you don’t have An*lpram in your medicine cabinet, especially if you’ve ever given birth), I found the pregnancy tests from both Carson and Ella.

I suspect some of you just barfed in your mouth a little because, “OMG THOSE STICKS HAD PEE ON THEM AND I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’D SAVE THEM!” Well, yes. Yes they did have pee on them, but they also were the first bearers of the best news I ever received. Finding these sticks was such a surprise, even though I knew they were in the medicine cabinet. These three peed-on sticks reminded me of what it was like, finding out that Tate and I would be welcoming a tiny, real, live HUMAN BEING into our family.

The first test I took when I “suspected” I was pregnant with Carson was only barely positive. Actually, I didn’t really suspect I was pregnant, it was more like hopeful, and I took the test earlier than they recommended. The line was so faint that I thought it was possible that there could have been a malfunction with the test. I waited a few (BRUTALLY LONG) days and took a second test that was positive immediately. Tate and I sat on our bed looking at each other and laughing and crying. We could AND we couldn’t believe it.

Then just 10 months later, another gift, another positive pregnancy test. Tate was in the shower while I paced back and forth, the stick in hand. I was almost skipping with delight, but every few seconds I would have a nagging feeling of WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, but mostly there was elation. It makes me sad that I don’t remember exactly how I told Tate, maybe I blurted it out as soon as he got out of the shower…or maybe I showed him the positive stick.

These already fading memories is exactly why I still have these peed-on, semi icky sticks. They are a tangible reminder of those two moments that announced the most amazing, frightening, best things that have or will ever happen to us.

I’m going to put them back in the medicine cabinet so that I can find them and remember all over again.

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So far, so good

Written on February 23, 2010 by Jennifer in Little Monkeys, Lucky Me, Pictures

I did not wake up this morning to a little boy standing at the edge of my bed staring and giggling at me.

I had time to take my shower and get completely ready before the kids woke up.

Both children sat right down to breakfast without whining or yelling.

Breakfast was SpongeBob free.

Ella tenderly hand-fed me imaginary blue stars. I assume they were delicious.

Carson and Ella’s version of the game peek-a-boo, didn’t end with someone in tears.

I didn’t clean up any bowls of cereal off the floor.

The kids helped me load and start the dishwasher without fighting or making a huge mess.

Carson got himself dressed without me ever having to say, “GET DRESSED, NOW!”

As I pulled Ella’s shirt over her head, she proudly proclaimed, “I have two arms!!”

Carson helped Ella put on her socks.

Excuse me while I bask in the glory of a rare good start to the day.

(Please ignore the poor quality of the pictures, I wasn’t going for perfection, I just wanted to capture the moments!)

*****

I made a serendipitous discovery! Emily at Chatting the Sky hosts a little thing called “gifts on a tuesday.” I think my precious moment was a perfect gift on a Tuesday.

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Practicing restraint and kindness. I’ve possibly overexerted myself.

Written on December 29, 2009 by Jennifer in Lucky Me, marriage, Men?

I know that I poke fun at Tate right here on the ol’ blog a lot. Maybe too often.

In my defense, I’ve tried and tried to get him to start his very own blog to record his OWN stories in his OWN words. He could also use his own platform to make fun of me. Surely I’d be as good a source of blog material as he is!

Sometimes I feel sort of bad that he gets his panties in a wad about things I’ve said about him or pictures of him that I’ve posted. I’m not trying to make fun of him outright , (YES, REALLY), I just think that the way we interact is often funny and it’s a source for inspiration.

So in honor of my wonderful husband, I’m going to try and devote an entire post to NOT spinning the facts into hilarious yarns where he ends up the Sonny to my Cher. (TRY.) (It’s the operative word.)

For the first time in I-can’t-remember-how-long-because-my-brain-shot-out-of-me-with-Carson, Tate completely surprised me for Christmas. Since I’m *trying* to be nice, I won’t link to any of the posts I’ve written about not surprisingly being, well, NOT surprised.

This whole being surprised thing is significant because really all I ever want for Christmas is TO BE SURPRISED. (And it certainly doesn’t hurt if the surprise is something I like. A LOT.)

Tate was even so thoughtful to give me one of my gifts early. Before our trip to the North Pole, he presented me with my first gift of the Christmas season.

“I thought you’d like to open this one early,” he said, carefully placing it into my open hands.

The small-ish, square-shaped box held inside the camera lens I’ve been desperately wanting.

With tears in my eyes he explained, “I knew you’d want to take pictures of the kids tonight, so I hope it’s alright that I’m giving it to you now.”

(So far, so good in the being nice to Tate on my blog, yes? It’s super simple when HE does nice things!)

For weeks Tate had been acting panicked about having NOTHING to give me. He really did have to work a ridiculous amount of time between Thanksgiving and Christmas and hadn’t spent any time actually shopping, so it wasn’t unreasonable to believe him. After he gave me the lens, he asked me if my feelings would be hurt if that was my only gift. Since I’m not poking fun at Tate today, I won’t divulge why he said the lens was my only gift.

So come Christmas morning I was pleasantly surprised to receive dangly handmade earrings (by a jewelry maker, not handmade by Tate), brand new running shoes, and the Les Halles Cookbook by Anthony Bourdain (my pretend celebrity boyfriend.)

One gift remained, purposely held back by Tate.

“Don’t open that one yet,” he placed it gingerly alongside the other three gifts. “This one is the big-hitter!” He beamed proudly from ear to ear as I tried to imagine what could be better than a new lens, shoes, earrings, and my food porn bible. I ran through the things that I’d been really wanting. “Could it be the external flash I’ve had my eye on? Or maybe a Mac laptop?!” Oh how my mind soared with the possibilities!

Eagerly, yet carefully I unwrapped the gift. I wanted to savor each moment leading up to the big hitter gift, knowing that it would be something I’d remember for years. And truly, it IS something I’ll always remember.

(Tate wanted to know WHY I asked him to take a picture of me in my Snuggie. “You’re going to mock me on your blog again, aren’t you?” My response, an indignant, “…!”

(Carson ADORES the pink Snuggie.)

In the interest of saying only nice things today, I’ll end with, Happy 35th Birthday, Tate! I’m proud to be your wife and love having the distinct honor of loving you and poking fun at you on the Internet.

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Perhaps I should leave for extended periods more often

Written on November 30, 2009 by Jennifer in Lucky Me, marriage, Men?, NaBloPoMo

After a brutally long eleven hour drive home, we pulled up to our much missed home to find it adorned with Christmas lights. Two mini Christmas trees and a wreath adorned the front porch and door, welcoming us.

Inside, the house was clean and free of the usual toys and clutter. On the kitchen counter sat a crystal vase that held wonderfully fragrant calla lilies. The oven light revealed a rotisserie chicken and sweet potatoes, warmed and ready to be eaten. After dinner, Tate dished us up chocolate chunk brownies that he had baked himself.

The dirty laundry had been washed and placed in drawers and closets. The towels and sheets were fresh. Groceries for the upcoming week had already been purchased and were even put away in the pantry and refrigerator.

It’s just a wild guess, but I think Tate might have missed us while we were gone.

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Eight Memories

Written on July 14, 2009 by Jennifer in Lucky Me, marriage

Today Tate and I celebrate our eight year anniversary.

On the morning of July 14, 2001, I woke up very early, unable to go back to sleep due to the anticipation of this long awaited day. I went down to the hotel lobby to have breakfast. My dad happened to be in the lobby, so he and I ate breakfast together. Sitting there with just my dad before my big day is one of my favorite memories from the day.

Later that morning, I saw my grandpa. He asked me if I knew that July 14th was also my grandmother’s birthday, she’d passed away when I was just a young child. I hadn’t known that our wedding date was also her birthday, making the day that much more special.

My dress made me feel like a princess. I wish I had a reason to wear it again.

When the doors of the church opened, Tate looked like he was going to cry. I’ve asked him many times since if it was because of my breathtaking beauty or his nerves…of course, he always answers correctly. It was all I could do not to ugly cry as I walked down the aisle.

At our reception, I told the DJ that I did not want to hear any music by AC/DC or Rush, two of my most detested bands. It didn’t matter if one of the reception guests requested to hear one of their songs, he was supposed to tell them that he’d add it to his list but then never get to it. He respected my wishes. Smart DJ.

We served a buffet dinner, which sadly I barely remember. I know I ate, I know that we had prime rib, but I don’t even recall if it was good. So sad to not even remember the food. I love reminiscing about food. What’s even more sad though, is that I only got one bite of wedding cake. I told Tate prior to the wedding that if he smeared cake in my face, he’d pay dearly. Tate respected my wishes. Smart Tate.

We decided that getting a limo to drive us to our hotel where we’d spend our wedding night would be silly. To save money, my mom drove us to our hotel. I remember laughing as she dropped us off, knowing what we were getting ready to go do for the VERY FIRST TIME. *ahem*

Tate carried me over the threshold. Thinking about that still makes my heart flutter.

A wedding is just one day out of a marriage, but ours was a WONDERFUL day to BEGIN our marriage. I had no doubt in my mind that I was making the right choice. I still have no doubt that Tate is my one and only.

Originally published last year with seven memories, for our seventh anniversary.

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