Happy Anniversary!

Today, December 29th, Michael and I are celebrating out 22nd anniversary. Sometimes our relationship seems so fresh, it is as if we are still honeymooning. At the same time, I can't remember life without him. I feel like we've finally reached the point in our relationship, that it only gets better with each day. And yes, there are still things I am learning about him, and new things to love about him. So in honor of this special occasion, here are 22 things I appreciate about Michael:

1. His smile, whether he is smiling at one of the kids, grandson, or me. He has a smile that melts my heart.

2. His sense of humor. It pops up unexpectedly at times, and makes me laugh silly. Usually when I am way too serious.

3. His way with finances. How else can you explain how we've managed all these years? When he didn't have a "job" for 2 years, we did great.

4. Along with finances, he is hard-working and creative.

5. Michael is not afraid to take risks.

6. He challenges me. Sometimes it doesn't seem so endearing at the moment, but I am a better person for it. The first few years of marriage I was not thankful for this quality, but I am now. And yes, he still finds ways to get me to step out of my comfort zone.

7. I love the way he tells me that I'm the best thing that ever happened to him.

8. I love his sense of adventure. (I can't wait to see where it takes us when the kids are grown.)

9. He has learned to validate my feelings and listen, not just try to fix everything for me.

10. I love to see the pride in his eyes when he takes Ethan riding on the lawn mower.

11. I love that he is always up for trying new dishes and never criticizes my cooking. He'll try anything once, and if something is really distateful, he will comment, "It wouldn't hurt my feelings if you didn't want to make this one again."

12. Even though he says anything I cook is better than going out to eat, he still takes me out or orders out so I get a break from cooking.

13. He will go get my car washed and vacuumed, just because he loves me.

14. He never leaves his dirty clothes around. He always picks up after himself.

15. When I need an errand run, or chore done, he does it immediately. I never have to ask twice.

16. He's not afraid to admit he was wrong.

17. He is courageous and won't hesitate to stop and ask for directions or for help.

18. He takes care of all of the things I dislike doing, like making phone calls, fixing things, etc.

20. I can't believe he tolerates the way I toss and turn in bed to get comfortable, but never once has he complained.

21. I'm so thankful that he is neat and tidy, but doesn't give me a hard time for not being so organized.

22. I so appreciate that he cares so deeply for me and our children and grandson. His love shines through in all he does. He is my hero.

Paper Anyone?

I'm curious how long I am going to have to use wadded up, shredded toilet paper out of a basket beside the toilet. And what is it about toilet paper that makes a child grab one end of it and run? This particular child, also likes to mummy wrap himself after he has pulled out a sufficient amount. That usually mean it starts at the roll on the wall, runs out the bathroom door, down the hall, into the kitchen with just enough room to twirl. Maybe I need tissue that is not so strong.

I know, many would just throw away these ridiculous amounts of paper wads. But, with 5 females in the house, why would I let perfectly good paper go to waste? The rolls of paper disappear fast enough. It seems I barely get a new roll on and it is time to replace it. So why does this mound in the basket seem to last forever?

I have my suspicions. I think I may be the only one who uses it. I think the other members of this household can't stand the thought of using toilet paper that has been dragged down the hallway or wrapped around a little person's body. I guess when you're a mom, all ideas of sanitary (or is it sanity) go out the window.

UNEXPECTED

Two days ago, I ran into Barnes & Noble for a last minute gift. I was sending out a Christmas package to my parents and it needed to go out that day in order to make it in time for Christmas. But I can never go into the bookstore without stopping in the children's section, or browsing through the clearance books.

I picked up a copy of Billy Crystal's "I Already Know I Love You." I read a page or two, then flipped a few more pages. Without warning, my eyes began to fill with tears. I blinked to hold them back and felt a stinging sensation. The author described the anticipation of waiting for his grandbaby, how he was looking forward to playing peek-a-boo, taking him to his first ballgame. I turned to the last page.

"I'm going to be your grandpa, and I can hardly wait."



I was not prepared for the intense emotion that welled up from within. I turned the book over. The sticker read $16.95. I can't pay that much for a book right now. But I tucked it under my arm and walked to the counter to pay.

I busied myself with watching the people waiting in line. I chuckled to myself when I saw that there was an employee at the front of the line holding a basket. She was offering chocolate candy for all who'd been standing, waiting to pay for their books. (They apparently agree with me, that chocolate should be used as a stress reliever.) As I passed, I accepted her bit of chocolate.

The day was a bit chilly, so I hurried to the car. All the way I was mentally trying to figure out what else I needed to do after going to the post office. I was a bit undone that I always and consistently leave things to the last minute. But while I was pulling out of the parking lot, tears unexpectedly began blurring my vision. I swiped at my eyes with my leather glove. Not very absorbent.

What is wrong with me? I wondered. I do not cry easily. I've never been an overly emotional person. But here I was, still crying on the way home after picking up a children's book. I normally analyze things like this. I like to know what exactly triggers such a strong emotion. When I am very busy, or under stress, I can't say that I am always in tune with feelings. I like to stuff them until a time arises that I can figure out what and why I am feeling. Then I can deal with it and move on. Right then, I didn't have time.

I pulled off my gloves, grabbed a tissue, and dried my eyes again. I tried to focus on all of the things I needed to do, but I couldn't distract myself. And what was I going to do with this book anyway? I was going to give it to my husband to give to our grandson for Christmas. The image of the two of them on Michael's riding lawn mower settled into my thoughts. I cried harder.



When our daughter announced her pregnancy, it wasn't at the best of times. She had made a stand of purity and chosen not to even date through high school. Here she was, at 20, unmarried, telling us the news.

She had friends who told her it wouldn't be convenient to have a child and that she didn't have to. But like I, she values life. We were going to be grandparents.

When I arrived home, I picked up my bag of books and went inside. I tried to put the book aside, while I packed up the box I needed to ship. But I couldn't operate with tears under the surface, still stinging my eyes. So I got the book to present to Michael. I went to him, but found I couldn't speak. I just stood there, holding this book. I opened my mouth, but the only thing that came out was tears. I waited. This was too hard. I finally blurted out, "I got this book for you to give to Ethan for Christmas. I know it was dumb, but I did." I then retreated to my room to finish the package.

Why am I such a wreck? Because I remember when my daughter was pregnant. I remembered that although we hadn't anticpated being grandparents yet, I often imagined spending time with this new little one. I imagined things like baking cookies together, laughing. I bought lots of books to read to him. I thought of the times I'd answer his questions about why, and tell him about God who created him. But I never imagined that Ethan might not understand these things, nor that there would be so many unknowns. I didn't think that at age 3 I'd still be waiting to hear him say, "gramma."

Michael came in the room. He wrapped his arms around me and I cried into his shoulder. I told him I didn't know what I was thinking when I picked up the book and that I would take it back to the store. He said no. We sat in silence. Once again I dried my tears. "Do you think I should just give it to him, or what?" He asked. "Aren't you afraid he will ruin the book?" I told him it would be ok. He could sit and read the book to Ethan. It didn't matter if Ethan didn't understand a word of it. The words were still true. We DID wait with much anticipation for his arrival. We did and still do look forward to spending time with him, teaching him new things, sharing and experiencing moments together. It is just different than what we'd imagined.

All About Nothing

A bit of time has passed since I've written a thing. The problem? Well, the more days that go by, the more difficult it is to write. I figure people are out there waiting for something terribly insightful, motivating, thoughtful, inspiring...and the more time that passes, the more pressure I feel to perform. The complete irony of the situation? I doubt anyone reads my blog at all, lol. So why do I feel any kind of pressure? Afterall, this is my own little world. I can say or write just about anything that comes to mind. Even if it is all about nothing.