"Picture it... Miami... 1985."

Thirty years ago today, my favorite TV show of all-time debuted.

Look at those four fabulous ladies decked out in the best the 1980s had to offer middle-aged women.

But really, I love this show. 

When Jared and I first started dating, I knew it was true love when I found out he could quote every episode just like me. 
Be still my heart. 
It was a done deal right then and there.

I own every season on DVD and the Golden Girls are my go-to palette cleanse after a depressing episode of something else. (I'm looking at you, Game of Thrones.) I actually own a t-shirt with their faces on it from my college days. I still occasionally throw it on and wear it for old times sake. Jared and I have discussed that from now on we just might name our pets after characters from the show - the older the name the better. Dorothy is the clear front-runner. Because let's be frank, it'd have to be a pretty saucy cat for it to live up to the name Blanche. And when it comes to males, there will be a never ending line-up of names to choose from.

If you can't admit that this show is funny, I just don't get you. It's the barometer by which I detect whether we could be friends. If you can't laugh at a witty barb from a spunky 80 year-old lady, what can you laugh at??

There are way too many quotable lines from this series to pick favorites, but for some reason the phrase "slut puppy" always comes to my mind first.

Fasten your seat belt, slut puppy.

This ain't gonna be no cakewalk.

It's been 30 years and you can still find an episode on television at any time of the day. I'm sure that is because friendship, outspoken elderly folks, and jezebels  50 year-old mattresses  tramps don't go out of style.

Garth, the second time around

Many of you probably already know, but I'm a pretty big Garth Brooks fan. Like I owned his first album (and every one after that) on cassette big. 

I attended one of his concerts way back in 1996. And it was glorious. I'm pretty sure I used an entire Kodak single use camera to produce the world's crappiest concert photos. Right now it irks me something fierce that I can't find the photo of my friend Sarah and me in our matching concert t-shirts to prove how awkward awesome our 12 year-old selves looked. 

So sometime last year when Garth announced he was going back on tour again, I informed Jared and anyone who would listen that I would be seeing him again in concert. No matter what. And this past Thursday night we made that a reality.

It took 3 different shifts of babysitters and a cleaning of one closet filled with old high school junk, but we were on our way to Omaha's opening night of Garth Brooks' 2015 World Tour. 

Of course, no concert road trip is complete without the Econoline van. 
Honestly, I should give it its own tag on this blog. 
She's seen better days, but after a quick battery charge and a thorough clean-out since being placed in storage back in December, we were ready to go.

And remember that closet that needing cleaning out? 
It was an absolute necessity that I wear my original Garth tee.
A necessity I tell you!
Thank God my mom is organized and loves me so.
Check out that vintage loveliness.

Pretty hot, right? 
And I got more than one compliment on this beaut, I will have you know!

We consumed some delicious burgers, onion rings, and beer and then headed to the concert.

We were waaaay up in the stands, maybe 15 rows from the top. But it absolutely did not matter. The roar of the entire crowd was something I've never heard before. When the countdown to Garth began, it was electric in there. 

We stood up for basically every single song (yes, even way up high everybody was standing) and the entire crowd sang along to every word.

And it was L-O-U-D.

Halfway through I looked at Felicia and shouted, "I'm going hoarse!"

It was by far the best concert I have ever attended. 

He sang my favorite song ("Shameless" just FYI) so life was good. But really, it was such a great concert, every song felt like your favorite song. 

Garth's still got it.

I would go again in a heartbeat.

Keep it up, Garth. Maybe in another 19 years I'll come again and bring my kids along too. ;)

Okoboji

Every year growing up, my parents loaded all four of us girls into the Dust Bucket (ie: the family station wagon) and made the drive to Okoboji. My dad's parents owned a small house there so every summer we went and stayed for a few days. Every summer we posed - from youngest to oldest, naturally - on the front steps and indulged my mom her yearly picture. Basically every year is a slightly different version of embarrassing.

summer of 1995

Side note: Yes, we are all girls. 
Felicia just preferred a boy's haircut while wearing a t-shirt featuring Pocahontas and John Smith. Thanks Disney. 
Meanwhile I am rocking a one-piece number with a built in belt and skirt. 

We spent our days swimming, fishing, playing in our usual parks, mini-golfing, and eating Godfather's Pizza and DQ ice cream. At night we hauled the extra mattresses out of the closet and arranged them in the over-sized living room. All four of us slept on them together, after about an hour's worth of jumping back and forth.

We went every year, all the way up through high school. 
One year we wanted to take friends. My mom was not signing on for a "vacation" with at least four extra kids. My dad was just crazy enough to agree. 
And that is how our dad ended up spending a night by himself with nine girls.

What I remember most from the trip was that we made him drive us around while we listened to the Backstreet Boys. And he learned some words and sang along. 

My dad's always been cool like that.

Fast forward a good decade or more.

My grandparents still own the same small one-bedroom house, although minus that green carpet. 

And now I am the one with small children. And I would love for them to experience and enjoy the same wonderful things I did when I visited Okoboji as a kid. 

Yesterday we decided to make a little of that happen. 

We loaded our kids in our packed Honda Pilot (can't wait to see what our kids name it someday) and hit the same road my parents used to.

We picnicked at the same park we used to play at when I was a kid.

We swam and played in the sand at the same beach that we used to when I was a kid.

We drove around and noted what had changed - and what had stayed the same - since I was a kid.

The result was a day of smiles and laughs. 

Lots of cookie bars and lemonade.

Plenty of sun and definitely a lot of sand.

Our three came home exhausted, already asking when they can go back again. 

college roomies reunite!

Back in 2005, I transferred colleges from my current one in Iowa to Fort Hays State University in Kansas. (Best decision EVER, but I digress...)
I was a junior and didn't know a soul but Jared. Jared had his own apartment off campus. I wanted to meet people, plus I wasn't able to travel the seven hours to apartment search, so I got a dorm room on campus. This could have been a big disaster, but it was a blessing instead.

I had been paired with a roommate. The smallest room in an entire dorm filled with single-only rooms and I had a roommate. Her name was Kate Clifton. I don't know if it was luck or fate or whatever, but thank God for Kate. We meshed instantly. Life was good in our cramped little room.

Our first weekend on campus

 

We both were looking for the "college experience" - a.k.a. wanting to make new friends and find as many house parties as possible. We regularly trolled around the dorms looking for open doors and opportunities to meet people. We were largely unsuccessful except for the open door we found at a dead end in the basement of our dorm. Those two guys playing guitar and video games ended up being Kate's housemates once I moved in with Jared.

We attended many a house party together.

 

We were both nerdy and listened to songs from our favorite Disney movies, having sing-alongs in the showers. I introduced Kate to country music and how to successfully squat to pee when no bathroom was available (a very useful life skill!) and she introduced me to Team America and was pretty amazing at getting us invites to parties.

 

We attended Ladies' Fair for the free drinks every year.

 

We watched every episode of every season of Sex & the City together. And we made cosmos in our dorm room while watching said episodes. We stayed up late talking most nights. We also took the classiest of pictures at our classiest moments. (obviously.)





 

We had our share of fun moments even when we didn't live together anymore. Jared and I would go to their house to play drinking games or watch our weekly episodes of Nip/Tuck. We drank way too much tequila together and spent a night sleeping together in her bathroom. We took random trips to Pizza Hut for their lunch buffet (known as PHB in our lingo) where Kate would take home a couple pieces of pepperoni pizza in her Ziploc-lined purse. There were shopping trips to the mall in Hays where we would load up on $2 shirts and cheap necklaces, most of which were usually broken on the dance floor later that night.

 

Kate and Jared were good friends too. He knows just as much about her as I do - probably more since he has the better memory! She got to know my friends from Iowa and fit into the group seamlessly. We had a blast together at our joint bachelor/bachelorette party in Kansas City, even if we did forget her at a bar and she had to beg a ride back to the hotel. (Sorry Kate!)

 

Our last weekend in Hays together was pretty epic too. She was my wingman when I punched a guy in the face on a bus for talking smack to us. There is no one else I would want to run from the cops with. :) 

 

 

Kate always listened after Jared and I had a fight. I held her hair more times than I can count. And even though there were times we didn't see each other much, we were there for each other when the other needed a friend. We made a lot of great memories together during my time in Hays, Kansas.
Sadly, we have only seen each other once in the last 5 years - at the Herndon Ox Roast in 2010.

And while this is far from a good picture of us, it is probably my best memory:

dancing in the street, beers in hand, in the pouring rain until 4 o'clock in the morning. 

Best. Night. Ever.

And now my dear friend Kate is coming from Colorado to visit this weekend.

Eeek!

I am so excited I could pee!

I can't wait for her to get here. We have so much catching up to do!

 



why moms do what they do: it's all starting to make some sense now...

When you're growing up your mom does all this stuff that seems crazy.

You think to yourself,

Ugh! Why does she say that?

And why does she do that?!

Well I am starting to understand...

"We"ll see."
This one was the worst! Why couldn't she just make a decision?!
Recently I have found myself saying the exact same thing. Basically I am buying myself time to determine if I want to deal with the fight that comes with saying no or if it's just easier to cave and let Bailey wear another fluffy over-the-top dress to bed for the 9th night in a row.

Not buying us everything we wanted.
One Christmas I was obsessed with a Barbie play house bathroom set. This bad boy came with a sink, toilet, AND shower/tub combo. Sweet? Yeah, I know. I remember it costing less than 30 bucks in the JCPenney Christmas catalog, so I figured that was do-able for "Santa." Well, apparently Santa had other ideas. Christmas morning came - no designer bath for Barbie.
This one is hard for me, because while you're all probably thinking it wasn't a necessity for my happiness, you didn't see the real-life looking pedestal sink and the tiny little knobs in the shower. Seriously, so precious...
But as a mom now, I understand why Santa saw fit to provide me with some stirrup leggings and a sweater with a cat on it: because kitten sweaters and pants that won't ever slip out of your shoes are practical. Plus my mom was probably thinking that she didn't need any more plastic crap laying around her already-crowded living room.

"Because I said so."
The most annoying mom phrase of all time.
We all know this isn't a real answer!
Why do moms use this one?
Answer: because it is the only thing you can think of at the moment and you don't want to not have an answer. Besides I have mom brain (pregnant brain that morphed into baby brain which took up permanent residence) and I can't think on my toes as quickly as I used to.

Those inhumane bedtimes.
My mom had a set bedtime for all of us and she was pretty strict about it. I begged and begged all of my 8th grade year to be able to stay up to watch a whole episode of E.R. (which by the way - why was I watching that show anyway? I am sure I understood about 5% of what was being said.) but my mom would only go as far as to let me stay up an extra half hour - to watch HALF of the episode. What?!
Totally getting this one, Mom. Seriously I wouldn't have even given me that half hour.
When 7:30 hits around here, I am basically running back down the stairs shouting "Freedom!" at the top of my lungs because I am finally child-free. Scratch that - make that "physically" child-free. I still get to listen to them whine from their room for another song or a different book for at least another half hour.

"You're just tired."
This is the phrase my mom used any time anyone was crankier than normal.
Our usual response: "NO I AM NOT!" (Which obviously cleared up that discrepancy...)
She was right - cranky kids are usually tired kids. When Bailey is over-the-top whiny and acting a certain way, I know she is tired and needs a nap.
But I never appreciated it when Mom would use this line on me as a teenager. Or even once when I was like 22. Ummm... I'm an adult now, and I know you are comparing me to a 2 year-old! Not cool. When you reach adulthood, you're probably actually upset about something - not just pissy because you didn't get your daily siesta.

Literally locking all us kids out of the house and not allowing us to come in for hours.
Seriously, can't we just come inside for a drink?  To get a toy?  To use the bathroom?!
It's now clear in hindsight that Mom just wanted to get something done - not just scrub a floor to find someone with muddy shoes walking across the opposite side of the same room.
Or maybe she just wanted to go #2 in peace. Because that is a totally legit reason, too.

Which brings me to my next thought:

 

Mom? Mom? Mom! Mom?? Mom?! MOMMMM???!!!
Wait, why is she acting all exasperated? I just wanted to know where she was.
{Man, we must have been annoying!}
It's pretty obvious that going to the bathroom is like the most exciting spectator sport known to toddlers.
But mine have some uncanny alert system when it comes to me sneaking upstairs to fold laundry. "Mom? Mom? Mom, where ah you??"
Laundry is not fun. Throw in two toddlers and everything gets folded about four different times and still ends up in a pile on the bed. No wonder Mom waited so long to answer.

 

 

So this Mother's Day I am going to take the opportunity to apologize for all the eye-rolling and snotty looks I aimed in my mom's direction as a kid. Because a lot of the stuff she did was for a good reason. Or for her sanity, which is a good enough reason.

 

And now that I have an opinionated, independent mini-me daughter of my own, I know my mom is having the last laugh. And enjoying it.

So I think we're even, Mom.

Paid off

This month of February is the last month that I will be sending in a check to pay for our car.

Horray!

We finally have our Honda Pilot paid off!

It was the first vehicle Jared and I picked out together. It's been my favorite vehicle.
(And if you know my dad, you know that I have driven A LOT of vehicles! I think I had 4 different cars by the time I was 16.) Anyway, I digress...
After 36 months, we officially own our vehicle outright. I don't like having debt, so this excites me!

And our other vehicle - my super cool Pontiac Grand Am from the year 2000 - it is still kicking.

**Knock on wood**

It seems every other month or so it gives us cause for concern.
Something goes wrong and we think, "This is it. We are going to have to buy another car."
But it's just a false alarm. The old girl just keeps on a-kickin'.

Sexy, isn't she?

 

Jared hates this car. Hates it.

I am not exactly sure why.
Maybe it's because it isn't the manliest of vehicles. (Or even close.)
Or because it's an annoying two-door.
Or because you feel like you are riding about one foot above the pavement.
Or because the radio plays approximately 3 stations. 4 on a good day.
Or because the heat or air only works while on the high setting.
Or because if you drive over 70 65 60 mph it starts to shake. Just a little bit...

Me, I don't mind it so much.
My parents bought me this car back in 2004 after my first year of college. I got zero say in the matter, but it was better than what I had been driving before, so I was happy.  And all the annoying things wrong with it don't really bother me. It's like an old friend (or husband) with quirks; you just get used to them. It has done well by me. I made many a trip from Kansas and back in this baby and it never left me down.
And the number one reason why I like it:
it's 100% paid for. (And bonus points because I wasn't the one who paid for it in the first place!)

So I am praying the old girl keeps on keepin' on.
It's only got about 128,000 miles. It's still got a lot of good life left! (Plus that whole paid for thing...)
I know in a few years - as I am hoping to put it off as long as possible - we'll have to get a mini van.

{Yes, Jared, a mini-van. Start getting your mind wrapped around the idea now.}

 

Right now we only have one vehicle that can haul all the kids and the three carseats that come along with them. Eventually one kid will have to go one place, while another goes somewhere else. That is where the mini-van comes in. Our tiny two-door Grand Am just isn't practical. But for right now, it's working.
Plus I would like to enjoy the feeling of no longer having a car loan for a while.

Now if those student loans would just disappear...
I know, I know. Wishful thinking.



Birthdays

Today is Number 28 for me.

28 years ago, after laboring at home for most of the day, my mom had to call up to my grandma's house to beg her to make my dad come take her to the hospital...NOW.
His response: "Well... let me finish this last load of corn first." 
Thankfully they made it to the hospital for my arrival a few short hours later.

This year I got to thinking of some of my past birthdays. We always had a birthday party with family - grandparents, along with my Aunt Donna, Uncle John and my two cousins, but I didn't have a big party with friends very often.

Therefore, the birthday that sticks out in my mind is my 7th birthday party. I begged and begged to be able to have a whole bunch of friends over. I was so excited when my mom agreed and all the girls in my class came over after school.  I remember getting off the school bus with all my friends and seeing the huge "Happy Birthday" sign my mom and younger sisters had made for me and hung on the fence.

We opened presents, played outside and, of course, had cake and ice cream.

I remember my dad loading up a hay rack and taking us on a hay ride behind the tractor. I thought that was so cool.

I don't remember much about presents, with the exception of the awesome new shirt I got to wear the next day:

There is a wonderful home video of me opening a present with this shirt inside. I make the most obnoxious over-the-top excited face when I open it. And it has become a classic in our family. When we stumbled across it on accident a couple of years back, I thought I was going to have to do mouth-to-mouth on my sisters and Jared because they basically stopped breathing they were laughing so hard. If they could figure out a way to upload it from VHS onto the Internet, believe me, they would - just for their own entertainment.

And lastly, a birthday that stands unparalleled in its awesomeness is my 21st birthday.

My friends Shelby, Holly, and Kevin made the 8 hour drive to Hays, Kansas to surprise me for my birthday. Unbeknownst to me, Jared had lined it all up - having never even met them before - and they jumped out of his apartment bedroom to surprise me that night. I was so shocked I started crying. It was seriously the best.  {Jared is really good at surprises.}

We spent the weekend doing the things you do for someone's 21st.

(And if you don't know what that entails, we clearly are not friends.)

Many shenanigans ensued.

And many biscuits and gravy (and gravel) were consumed from Tiger Alley at 2 AM.

 And then there was a small E.R. visit the next morning so my torn-off toenail could be sewed back on.    

Hey, at least alcohol is a good analgesic...!

I also got some good sympathy and a courtesy ride in the WalMart wheelchair.

All in all, it was a majestic weekend.

Holly got a free fake ID from a drunk girl on the street, Kevin opened a door on my toe, and my closest friends and future husband bonded over many (many, many) cans of beer. It was a success.

And while this birthday will certainly be liquor-free, I will certainly still be surrounded by people I love.

I will just have to make up for the lack of tequila next year.  ;)

Summer!

It's just around the corner. And I am getting excited. It's such a great excuse to get out and make plans to do fun things.

This weekend Jared has a whole 3 days off. Yippee! While he is sleeping off Friday's overnight shift, the girls and I will be going to the Gala Day's parade in Lytton. I haven't been in a few years. And in all actuality, it might be small and low on the excitement, but I haven't ever taken the girls to one, so it will be fun for us no matter what.  There is a carnival there, so the plan is to buy a few tickets and let Bailey have the exotic experience that is dirty carnival rides and funnel cake.

When I was little we always attended the parade on Saturday morning and afterward my mom would pack a picnic and we would go eat our lunch in the park. Grandma Joyce and Grandpa Ronnie were usually in attendance too. After eating we could play on the swings and jungle gym, which was sort of a big deal for girls that lived in the country and never really played at a park outside of school. We would spend the afternoon using up the last of our ride tickets, hanging out with our friends, and laughing at some of the carnies that clearly believed in bathing once a month whether they needed it or not.

On Sunday we are planning a trip to Omaha to see Fe and Beaner before visiting the Henry Doorly Zoo on Monday. I am highly anticipating this trip - not so much because I am a big animal freak or anything - but because I know how excited Bailey is going to be to see the animals. She looks at her picture books and points out the elephants and giraffes and zebras and lions. {She also does a heck of a roar! for said lion.} I am just imagining the look on her face when she sees and points to a real-life lion in amazement. Hopefully Avery enjoys herself as much as any 12 month-old can. If not, the stroller can be a nice nap locale for her.

I am also gearing up for summer and the water it brings. I am hoping to spend quite a few days with the girls at the baby pool. Both girls have their swimming suits lined up (Thanks Gramma Cathy!) and my newly-ordered maternity one is in the mail. Both girls love the water at bath time, so I am betting the same will be true of pool time. If not, I have a few pool toys up my sleeve to entice them... I will also be sure to pack the Little Swimmers this time. No one was too thrilled with Bailey's Kim Kardashian impression last year (okay, maybe I was):

Baby Got Back!

Afternoons at the lake are also in our future. Bailey is the proud new owner of some sporty looking water-wings. {I am interested to see how well that goes...} I also found a baby floatie device that we can plop Avery in. We are all set for some water adventures!

As a kid we spent many a Sunday afternoon with my mom's family: boating, eating grilled hotdogs and scotcharoos, and chasing each other off the dock at Treeman Park. I hope our kids experience the same simple pleasures of processed meat, sunshine, and accidental mouthfuls of lake water.  Although at this rate, we might need to recruit some "cousins" for them to play with.

Steel Balls, errr... I mean, Bars

This summer we will hold the 2nd Annual Random/Slightly-Awkward Ellis Girls Concert Event.

Last year it was  Meat Loaf.

Yes, the same Meat Loaf from the 70s who sang 12-minute-long songs filled with lyrics about bats from Hell and the things he wouldn't do for love.

In short it was awesome.
{Okay, so maybe it wasn't awesome because of him, but we made it awesome nonetheless.}

We kept it classy by pregaming in the parking lot.

Group shot with Meat Loaf (okay, he's cardboard, but it's the best we could do.)

Warm weather and some choice beverages made the night even better.



You might be asking yourself: Why would girls in their 20s, who weren't even born when his songs first came out, attend a Meat Loaf concert?  (Good question.)

The answer is quite simple.

It is all the fault of Linda Wheeler, our childhood babysitter. She watched me from the time I was about 9 months old until I went off to preschool. When she stopped babysitting after Justina was born, we still continued to see her. She, along with her husband Ed, would have us over on weekends every once in a while. {Aren't they wonderful?!} We would all walk to the grocery store, where we would each pick out a candy treat and a pop to have while we watched our movie that night.

Then every summer they would take all of us to AdventureLand in Des Moines. We would load up in their station wagon and the entire way down {and I mean, the entire way down} to Des Moines, we would listen to Meat Loaf cassettes. Ed and Linda loved Meat Loaf, and so gradually after riding in the car with them, all four of us girls became fans.

We always joked that we would go see him in concert if he ever toured again. (Who thought that would happen?!) So when he signed on to play at The Stir Concert Cove in Omaha last year, we bought tickets. Who would have guessed it would be sold out? I am sure we were the youngest people there by far. And I think it's fair to say we knew more songs that most of the people there too. {Or maybe we just sang the loudest....?}

So......
This year we are continuing the trend and inviting Mom along, too.

On June 2nd, we are going to be road tripping to see....Michael Bolton.
{I told you it was random and slightly awkward!}

We also became Michael Bolton fans (and I am using the term "fans" very loosely) by being forced to listen to it in the car. In a different, but equally awesome station wagon, my mom would pop in her variety of Michael albums and - poof! - we knew all the lyrics to "How Can We Be Lovers (If We Can't Be Friends)" Definition of classy right there.

The best was when one of us innocently asked if he was saying "steel balls" in his song "Steel Bars." We proceeded to inject the word "balls" every time and ever since then, no one can sing it correctly. And to be honest, I am looking forward to singing it wrong at his concert in a couple months: "Steel balls...wrapped all around me...."  And don't judge. You (sadly) probably know more of his songs than you think.

It might be a horrible show (although I am sure it will be wonderful since Barbara from New Jersey reviewed his concert - and I quote- "Michael was like a very fine wine, getting better with age." HA!) No matter if he goes hoarse during the concert or sings each song at half tempo (hello Meat Loaf), we are still going to have a good time. Guaranteed.

Now if only he still had all that sexy hair....

   Grrrr.....

  

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

February 14th .....   Valentine's Day....

Honestly, I'm just not that into it. Never have been. It's probably a bigger day for those people without valentines; an extra special day to remind them that they don't have a significant other to speak of. I know I probably seem particularly bitter or something - I'm not. I just don't buy into the commercial-ness of it. I would much rather receive flowers on a random Thursday than get them on Valentine's Day. {Not that I would protest or anything if I got some!}

Jared and I have been together for nearly 7 years now. Some days it seems like it was just yesterday and some days it feels like we have been married going on 60 years. {Married people: you know what I am talking about.} Love is different than it is in the beginning. It grows and changes like all of us. It isn't always about big grand gestures; it can just be the little things. Like sometimes Jared will write me a sweet note or letter and hide it in a drawer for me to find later. Or like when Avery was born, he skipped the flowers and went for what I really wanted: a Jones Bros cupcake.

{Man, just linking that made me hungry.}

Our's isn't the most typical of love stories... We knew of each other because we were in many of the same classes in college. I thought he was arrogant and a jerk. He thought I was annoying. [And I am sure there are people out there that would second those observations! And if you are agreeing, then why are you reading this blog again??]

 I digress... 

It wasn't until we were literally in a car driving to a funeral {¡que romantico!) that we began to really talk. and laugh. and laugh. and laugh. The conversation just flowed like we had been friends for years. Later that night we stayed up until the wee hours just talking. A friendship had bloomed. I woke up that next morning to find his arm wrapped around me in his sleep and I was excited. That was the first time it hit me: I think I like him. 

Six whirlwind weeks later I was filling out paperwork to transfer schools. I had been praying for months for an answer to why I had stayed at Briar Cliff (a very Catholic school that just didn't fit this liberal girl) and whether or not I should look to transfer. It was like a sign. A life preserver. I had my answer. My parents were wondering where their clear-headed, practical daughter had gone. Transferring schools?! Moving to Kansas?! I am sure many people thought it was crazy. I wondered too: Am I crazy?  Clearly in hindsight, the answer is a resounding YES. But it was the great kind of crazy. It was just crazy enough to lead me to the path I was supposed to be on. And I would go back and do it all over the exact same way.

 I would tell those 20 year-olds:

You're on the right track. The best is yet to come.

Jared -

I loved you then and I love you now. I couldn't have asked for a better partner to share this life with. I look forward to many more uneventful, boring Valentine's Days together.

                                                                                                          ♥ ♥ ♥  

                                                           

Before the blog

Blogging has come naturally because I have always liked to write. Before I started blogging, I kept journals. Each has its own advantages. I like blogging because it allows some of our family and close friends to stay up-to-date on our daily happenings - things that they might miss out on otherwise. It's nice to post photos and share hobbies. And, to be honest, I like getting feedback from people telling me how they like to read it or that they get a laugh now and again.

I have always kept a journal, starting at the tender age of 11. All the way back in 1995 I received my first one as a birthday present. I was hooked. I would write about all things, good and bad. I would write about friends that were "mean" to me that week and my constant, unwavering elementary school crush on Nick Nehman. {There were all of 4 boys in my elementary school class, so I didn't have much of a chance to switch it up.} I detailed sleep-overs with friends and kept a nice - ahem, very mature - list of "people's hearts I wanted to rip out." Geesh... Lots of pent-up grade school hostility! My 11 year-old self also wrote poems such as this one:

A friend is nice,

A friend is neat.

Like sugar and spice,

Without a friend, you aren't complete.

Not only does that "poem" make ZERO sense, it's also just so so SO horrible. Please have a laugh at my expense.

In middle school it helped me get out all of those horrible, typical middle school-ish feelings. {You remember middle school, right? Or are you successful in keeping it blocked from your memory?} High school writings were full of stories of who was dating who and first kisses, and my constant judgement on all those things of course.

My college writings are far less embarrassing. I wrote about classes and the changes that happened to high school friendships. I talked about the process of making all new friends and becoming more independent. I also describe the first weeks after meeting Jared back in 2005 (I was so very smitten to say the least):

"His laugh is contagious and I can't help but laugh, too. He knows me on a level that just can't be explained. I've never been this happy before. He's everything I was looking for and had never really realized."

Awww.... aren't I sweet? ;)

I realized looking at my last journal that I hadn't written since early 2009. That's a long time ago. That was TWO KIDS ago. I realized I need to get back to journaling. Blogging is wonderful, but there are some things you might feel like writing that don't need to be out for everyone to read (ie: previously mentioned hit list). So I picked up my journal, picked up my pen, and I got to work.

Hopefully ten years from now I won't be quite as embarrassed  by the things I wrote as I was today when I looked back. But that is some of the beauty in keeping a journal. You see growth. You can see the changes. You can relive the emotions you felt as you were writing. So ten years from now when my girls are that age and are behaving ridiculously, I can pull out my old journal and remember just how big of an idiot I was, too. If it weren't for the laughs I get from reading it, trust me, I would have burned it a long, long time ago.