In a world with a 4 year old, a 3 year old, a 16 month old, a 3 month old and two soldiers you never know what misadventures await. Life is always springing the unexpected and I want to share them with you. Welcome to my world.

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

       I can think of thousands of things I want to see under my Christmas tree this year. OK, so maybe a few hundred rather then thousands, sounds so much greedier, right? There are the things I want. Then there are the things I need. Then there are the things my Hubby wants and the things he needs. Then you have the things we want as a family and the things we need. And then last but not least, what my kids want and what my kids need. That's potentially a huge list. So, where should I scrape it down to? What should be included our wants or our needs?

Santa, you know that they cut my Hubby's hours down at work. They went from the awesome (if hard on the family) 5 12-hour shifts to 4 12-hour shifts. That still got us enough overtime regularly to keep us living pretty good, but then they decided that they didn't want to have so much planned overtime and although it was going to really cost them more in hiring new guys & forced overtime, they went to four on three off, three on four off. Now, we're scrapping by, barely. My Hubby's my hero, because he signs up for as much overtime as he can, but takes his name out of the books when his poor weak wife cries about not seeing him enough or the kids not seeing him enough. (I do that more often then I should, but it gets lonely without him.)

As if cutting down his hours and the overtime wasn't enough, my health and the subsequent medical bills are wringing us dry, Santa. I suppose you know that too, though, you have this uncanny way of knowing those kind of things. Just as soon as I think I'm on the road to recovery, I get slammed by something else. Just over a week ago I had my fourth surgery for the year, yes you read right my fourth. Just days before my surgery, I got a call from the hospital saying either you pay us what you owe from prior services rendered or you pay for your responsibility for this procedure or you'll have to reschedule. After crying my eyes out, I broke down and asked my Mom if I could have some of my inheritance money from my Grandma to cover my procedure. She and my Aunt deemed it a good thing to ask for my money for. So, I spent over half of my inheritance so I could have two hernias fixed. (Not how I wanted to spend that money) And when I have my surgery, I have complications (that probably cost an arm and a leg more) and have to have my remaining ovary removed. All of which was decided and done while I was sleeping.

We wrote down what we owe to every Dr, every hospital, every pathology report, etc yesterday. I wanted to cry. Most of it belongs to me. We owe over $8200 in medical bills that aren't on payment plans, which is probably another $2000 more. Our SUV has to be renewed this month, which will have to wait til January because we need a new set of tires that will cost at least $800 to do and we're working on paying off the brakes & roters we had to replace last week (grand total of $475 and we still owe $300 on). Not quite sure where it will come from, but it has to be done our car has to be registered in order to bring it on Base where we live.

Santa, as much as I'd love to see my medical bills disappear and be paid off. As much as I'd love to be able to pay cash for our tires and brakes. To know its not a stretch to renew our only vehicle. As much as I don't want to have to ask our Bishop every two weeks for assistance with putting food on our table. The thing I want to see most under my tree this year, is presents for my kids. They don't deserve to suffer, while we do. They deserve to stay blissfully ignorant of our money troubles. I want to be able to afford to buy ridicuously large amounts of toys & books for them. To buy the boring things they need like new shoes and clothes fit for Utah's unpredicitable winter weather.

I'd sacrifice everything to do that for my kids. As it is I know they will have a few gifts under the tree and that's ok. We won't let them suffer completely because we are financially strapped. It just won't be a Christmas of extravagence. That's ok. I want to teach my kids the true meaning of Christmas and about the birth of our Savior. But there's that small childlike aspect that makes me want to shower them with gifts.

Santa, if you could just make sure that we can provide each of my four kids with a gift or two. That we can delight in seeing their little faces in the morning when they see those small stacks and be excited. That's all this Mommy really wants.

Thank you, Santa for listening to this poor Mommy vent. Merry Christmas to you Santa.

Sincerely, Aidan, Aislynn, Rhiannon & Fallon's Mommy

Inspired by Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop. Check out her amazing blog, Mama's Losin' It and join the fun that occurs every week.

Mama’s Losin’ It

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Writer's Workshop: The Changing Friendship of Married Friends

I was inspired by Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop prompts, which this one was from a few months ago and I was intrigued enough to write this one. If you're in need of a good writing prompt go over and check out her blog, she always has the most unique things to write about!

Marriage. Its a life changing and beautiful step in a person's life. Everybody talks about learning to live with each others weird quirks like the toilet paper roll that feeds over vs under, rolling the toothpaste tube vs not, even to who sleeps on what side of the bed. Its often those kind of big changes that we focus on, but the one change that isn't truly talked about until well after you're fully ensconced in wedded bliss is:

What Happens To The Changing Friendship of Married Friends

Its a nice idea to think that your relationships with friends who aren't married won't change once you've tied the knot. But in reality it does change and really it has to. Gone are the days when either you or your spouse can just head off to party & play with your single friends. A lot of people probably try to slide back into how things used to be, but find that its not so easy to fit back in. (I am sure there are those that manage, but really what kind of marriage would you have? Not that I'm judging, to each there own)

I found that while we still enjoy doing things with the few friends we have who aren't married, how often we actually do has dropped drastically. When we make trips into town for Dr's appts and to run our errands, my Hubby & I often decide last minute to go to a sit down restaurant and usually ring up my Hubby's best friend, who has a girlfriend, but still claims bachelorhood. And while one might think that he'd be a lot more flexible then we are, usually has plans. I honestly thought married life would be more planned out date nights and outings with friends, but since we have four kids finding a babysitter is so difficult. If we can't family to watch the kids, then our kids come with us. Which isn't always bad, but its nice to have a nice grownup evening out once in a while. Plus living at least two hours away from a decent place to go to the movies and to dinner, travel time kills it for us with local babysitters, who are mostly teens still in high school. So we try to go out when we already have plans to be in town, but that really does make for more last minute dinner plans then planned ones.

While we do last minute things and drag our kids along, I'm not so sure that our single friends enjoy us always wanting them to come hang out with us and our family. Especially if they are alone since we outnumber them and can make them feel awkward or if they bring a date, they may or may not like kids. I also find that conversations kind of lag with other adults when we have the kids. I mean when we're constantly telling the kids to eat their food or quit playing with it or don't touch your sister/brother. Its easier to plan ahead to hang out with our single friends, since we can arrange for a babysitter and plan to be just couples. Then no one feels left out or awkward at being the odd man out.

We still invite them to our parties, but they have to endure a party where kids are welcome most of the time and we tend to do less 'partying' since we have to be responsible for more then just us. I know a lot of single people who really live for partying and being able to drink to excess, which makes us no fun since we don't do that even when our kids aren't around. I think sometimes they feel we're boring and I often wonder what its like to be able to be so care free. I love being a mommy and wouldn't change it, but we're not as flexible about dropping whatever we're doing or not doing to run out to see a movie at 9 o'clock at night or go have a movie marathon all night long. We have to worry about kids getting enough sleep and trying to find a sitter for that kind of short notice is nonexistent.

We still try to include our friends, but we often go months in between get togethers because its just easier that way. We love our single friends and while we still love them, its a whole lot easier to hang out with our married friends, especially the ones with kids. So, don't let anyone fool you if they say nothing changes after you get married when it comes to friends, because in the end it really does happen and its usually the best to reevaluate & try something new.

Friday, December 7, 2012

Big Dreams

I have dreamed of being a writer for as long as I can remember. My 3rd Grade teacher, Mr Freeman, encouraged lots of writing and I found I had a knack for it. I loved it! Now my early stuff was pretty out there. I found a one that I wrote, a very sappy romance story, involving a bunch of my school friends. It was like reading a terrible soap opera. That bad. I have file folders full of stories finished and some not quite so much that range all the way to grade school. I save them for sentimental reasons, not that most are that great, but every writer starts somewhere, right?

I won a number of story contests as the years went by, something for which I was very proud of. In fact I received the first Ruby Freeman Award for Reading, Writing and Preservation of Literature (which was given by my beloved 3rd Grade Teacher in honor of his Mother), an award that there were two types of and only given for a few years. Unfortunately, they stopped because Mr Freeman felt that the award was not appreciated for what it was. Which was truly a tragedy. I will always feel honored that I received the first. There was a contest that touched on all the arts known as the Reflections contest and I won that a couple times. The one year, I believe I was in 7th grade and I made it as far as Regionals. It was quite the honor.

As wonderful as all these awards were, it was the writing I loved. I wanted to write a novel and hoped that I would be inspired to write one. Hasn't happened yet, but I still hope to. As I have now been out of school for 10 years, I don't write nearly as much as I used to. I still write here and there. I've actively participated in three years worth of Nanowrimo, but haven't yet met the goal number of  50,000 words. My plan is to make the goal next year. Its kind of a fun challenge. Last year I made it to about 25,000 words. I was so close it was exhilerating.

I started blogging about 3 years ago. Not only did I feel it was a great way to remember things like a journal, but I had this fantasy that my blog would be discovered and that readers would flock to read what I had to say. That I would be found to be funny, entertaining and inspiring. I still enjoy to blog, but I've found that I fill those shoes very little. Perhaps I should compare my writing style less to other blogs I read, but its human nature to do so. I find I'm not as funny and clever as I thought. I have very few consistent readers. Hardly anyone comments. I guess I really should be glad I have found a way around my writers block. Its hard since I went into this with such high expectations and dreams. I wanted someone to tell me that I should write a book. I wanted a stranger to tell me that. Silly, huh?

I know I shouldn't set such stock in being disappointed. I should write because I love to and I want to remember the memories of my kids growing up. I want my family who doesn't live close to hear the funny stories. I want a place I can vent and not be afraid of judgment. I shouldn't care if I have 2 readers or 200 readers. I should write to write. But that writer in me wants to be awknowledged. To be rooted on and in my writer's vanity, be told I'm amazing and entertaining. As a writer I am so freakin' vain.

I want my dream. Is it so silly that a 27 year old wants her dream? I know all of this really goes back to a few things that are not writing related. They are about me, about the me I keep hidden. In check. I have written for so long as a means to hide the fact that I don't have very many friends and don't seem to be able to make friends easily. I don't want people to know that I'm scared to talk to new people. I literally have a phobia of calling people, it doesn't matter if I know them or not. I will drag out calling someone, in order to avoid it. I've been told that I'm not well liked, for whatever reason I scare people away. Perhaps I try too hard. I've used writing as a means to hide the real me and keep the pain at bay that don't socialize.

I've used my healthy issues to hide away, all but becoming a recluse. I yearn to have friends to do things with, to have excuses to leave my house. But I don't. I hide in my house. I am the epitomy of a recluse. I write and hide. In fact just this morning I wrote a letter on Facebook to a bunch of the women who are my friends online, hoping to start a monthly craft day in the New Year. To force myself out of my house, my comfort zone and make friends. Get to know these people I claim to be friends with. I'm certain most will find reasons it won't work. I kind of feel sad and pathetic. I had to write a letter to ask people to let me get to know them. Writing this makes me want to cry. I hate my limitations.

So I write. I escape. I pretend. I evade. I write to the universe, because I don't even dare hope that someone will actually read this. I still dream big. I dream I'll be inspired and write a book that will truly wow the world. I want to be that writer. I want to touch people's lives. Share a piece of me. Be remembered rather then fade away. I will fade because I feel alone. Because I am alone.

I'll keep writing my blog. I'll tell about the crazy things my kids have done. I'll write whatever comes to mind. I'll keep dreaming that I will be a writer. A writer that people want to read. I hope you don't think too badly of me for saying I'm weak. I'm a writer and I dream big.

Thursday, December 6, 2012

Complications, That's Me!

Surgery. I know that's a word I've used a lot on here this year and I'm sure you're just as tired hearing it, as I am. Unfortunately I'm not as healthy as I would like and at 27 years old, I feel far older then I should. I have hopes that my year of surgeries has done more then just make my family exponentially poorer, that perhaps, perhaps its actually making progress to making me healthier. There is nothing more upsetting and frustrating then being reasonably young and being sick enough that I cannot enjoy my amazing little family. We went through hell and back again to get each of our beautiful kids here, and I feel I'm missing out on everything.

I feel like a horrible Mom, and although everyone tells me its not my fault, I feel somehow it is. That some how I have failed my kids by not being healthy and feeling up to being involved with everything. I haven't had the energy to take them to the park (which is now conveniently down the street from us), no energy to play on the floor, and really if I have no energy for those, then where do I muster up the energy to even get out of bed? If someone has the answer to that one, I am all ears. Aside from being a Chronic Migraine sufferer, I was diagnosed with Endometriosis when I was 12 and was officially verified when I was 21. Both of which have brought their own set of challenges. While the migraines I can only hope to cut back just how frequent they are and how bad they are by taking daily preventative medicines & pain meds for onset. With Endo, the only sure fire way of being rid of the troubles that come with it are to have a hysterectomy, which for those of you who have been following me for a while know I had six weeks following Fallon's birth. Though it was only a partial (my Dr left both of my ovaries) so that I wouldn't have to go into Menopause at 27 and worry about all the issues that come from that.

It seems however that my body had other plans and in September (4 months following my hysterectomy) we discovered a 5CM cyst on my right ovary. My Dr surmised that all the cramping and pain in my abdomen since my surgery were the results of my body freaking out more or less & causing multiple cysts to form and burst. The best option was to go in and remove the 'Problem Child' ovary, and hopefully be able to move on with life. During that procedure, not only did they definitely decide to remove my ovary since it had all but twisted in on itself, but that I had 3 hernias. Two of which I'd probably had for a very long time and were smaller and the third was an incisional hernia caused by pregnancy & multiple abdominal surgeries. Eventually they would need to be taken care of, but I wasn't in too much of a hurry. Although my regular Dr felt otherwise when I began complaining of abdominal pain a few weeks later.

So off I went to see a general surgeon, who agreed that two of the three needed to be repaired and the sooner, the better. I'm thinking all this time that things are getting expensive, but at this point we should have met my out-of-pocket for the year. I scheduled what I hoped was my final surgery for the year (for a very long time, if ever) for the 30th of November. This was the best date for us since it fell on a weekend that my husband could arrange to be home all weekend and didn't have to worry about work til the Tuesday following. We made arrangements with our Reserve Unit, since it fell on Drill weekend, to make it up later in December and made arrangements with my parents to take the kids for the weekend.

Everything worked out well and the soon surgery day was upon us. There had only been one catch: we hadn't hit out of pocket and since we had some outstanding bills with the hospital (even though we were making payments), they required either the outstanding amounts paid in full or what my responsibility for this procedure to be paid in full. Luckily, I was able to have access to some of my inheritance money from my Grandma's passing to cover what I needed to do my procedure. It was really hard to ask for help and know that instead of going to something fun, it was going to surgery. I really did need the surgery.

The day of my surgery arrived. I went in just like I had for so many other surgeries and aside from some butterflies in my stomach, things were going great. I was taken back into the OR and I was asleep before I knew it. When I woke up however, was when I began to discover that things had not gone as planned. When my Dr had gone in with the camera to decide where was best to place the laproscopic insicions, he discovered that my one remaining ovary had such a large cyst on it that it had completely displaced it and the area around it was full of blood clots. Essentially it was a mess. He immediately got on the phone, called my OBGYN up and told him he needed him to come in right away. After the two Dr's discussed the options, they consulted with my Hubby over the phone and all agreed that it was best to remove my ovary. They could drain the cyst and remove the clots, but my OBGYN felt that the cyst would start growing back right away and that within three months I'd be in worse shape then I was already in.

I awoke to a great deal of pain, a huge incision that goes up the middle of my belly and no ovaries. I guess it could have been worse, I could have had massive bleeding or even died, but its been hard to process because nothing went as planned. I'm partially glad that I don't have to worry about cysts anymore or my Endo growing back, but I do get to deal with all the Menopause stuff and the hot flashes started yesterday (boy do they suck!). My recovery is going to be a lot longer, but its nothing I can't handle. Its kind of one day at a time. I want to feel better. I want to be a good mom and play with my kids. I just have to work up to that. I have to get better in order to do all that. I hope my kids will forgive me for being the broken Mommy and that soon I can show them I can be the fun Mommy.

I'm going to try, once again, to spend more time blogging. I have loads of down time for the next 8 weeks at least, I really don't have the excuse to not blog. I love blogging, but maybe this is being too picky, I miss hearing from people. I kind of feel like I'm writing to myself, which isn't a bad thing. I get jealous of other blogs, where each post has 30 responses. I wonder if I'm boring. Or is it just I don't blog consistently enough to keep people interested. I guess I'll never know, but if I keep trying maybe more people will come.

Never knew I could feel like this

Like I've never seen the sky before

When I met the heavyset red head with what appeared to be a bad attempt at an Afro, outside the Driver's Ed range at the end of sophomore year little did I realize the journey that lay before us. Although I felt that this was our first meeting, I have been told on numerous occasions he'd seen me around and that we even hung out with the same group of friends. In my memory it began with throwing sticks.

I was waiting for my Mom to come pick me up after range, sitting patiently reading my book underneath a very tall tree on the property of an LDS Church. I was minding my own business, reading my book, when the first twig sailed through the air and hit my back. Paying little attention to it, I kept reading until a second twig hit me. Apparently he was trying to get my attention and for whatever reason, I felt irritated at being interrupted. At the time I had very few friends and found my comfort & solace in my books. (Ironically enough so did he) When he had my attention, he asked what I was reading and so we talked back & forth about books we liked (I begrudgingly answered his questions). His name was Chris.

This was just the beginning of many conversations between us that week. One even included me throwing his leather pouch on the roof of the Church (accidentally) and his being gone so long, I thought he'd fallen off the roof. (Remind me to tell you that story later) My Mom asked me that first day who that young man was and I told her, "Just a guy." We even gave him a ride part of the way home, for whatever reason he wouldn't tell us where he lived just told us to drop him off by a local grocery store. I often wondered why he didn't want me to know where he lived. (He informed me that he just didn't want to inconvenience us.)

While we were friendly with each other, I felt he was very weird and wasn't keen on being too friendly. That summer I got a phone call from someone, who addressed themself as 'Stopher' and I had no idea who it was. I awkwardly carried on a conversation with him, not exactly sure who it was. I told him about being in a community play in a few weeks and that he should come see it. (Free publicity) He and a friend showed up to see my show and came backstage to talk to me, which eventually got them kicked out and they weren't even allowed to finish watching the play. Then the new school year began.

I found that the random phone call that summer had been inspired by a message I had inscribed in his yearbook giving him my number and to call me. I didn't actually think he'd call me and signed it more out of habit. (Sad I know, I find I was kind of shallow back then) With school back in session, I found that Chris was everywhere and I began to find him more annoying then ever. I mean he was nice, but since I felt that I could go nowhere without him being there, it got old fast. I tease him all the time about being my stalker and he always vehemently denies it. I figure it was more how I felt about him and his being 'everywhere' then his really stalking me, but its fun to tease him! Finally I told him I didn't like him and that I wanted him to leave me alone. I was blunt about it and didn't really care initially about his feelings at all. I was very much a stuck up teenage girl, which is strange since I had very few friends.

I saw him all the time in the halls after that and he'd see me & look away with the saddest look on his face. It did make me feel bad, but I couldn't get over the idea that he'd been stalking me. Eventually my nice side won out and I began talking to him again, but it was still really awkward which I was to blame since I'd told him to get lost. Chris was doing tech for the Spring musical that I was in, so it gave us casual opportunities to talk without too much pressure. Then I admit I did a really shallow thing and although it worked out to my benefit, it reflects badly on me. Prom was coming up and I had no prospects on getting a date for the big dance. So I conceived a plan to convince Chris to take me. Dragging my best friend along for the ride and getting her involved, we teased him about knowing a girl that wanted him to take her to the dance. I think he enjoyed the attention it got him from both of us girls and eventually, after he'd guessed a number of girls (think he was playing along and secretly knew the whole time) I told him it was me. He did appear to be very shocked and told me that he had no money. I told him it wasn't a big deal. I was surprised at how disappointed I was that he couldn't take me.

Then one night he told me he wanted to take me out to make up for not being able to take me to the dance. I asked him where & when, he said The Provo Towne Mall, which I thought was an odd place to take me for a date. Then he said on the 13th of April. It took a few moments before it clicked, he was asking me to Prom. For whatever reason they thought it was a cool idea to do Prom  at the mall since Utah's Capital building was under construction (its where Prom normally was). I was tickled pink, but as the day approached I began to get nervous. We had never been on a date and they had planned this elaborate all day thing. So what would happen if I found I really didn't like him and I was stuck all day with him?

April 13th dawned a nice sunny day and Chris & my best friend's date arrived at about 9am to take us to breakfast. While I wasn't impressed with the food, I actually found I was enjoying myself. Then we headed to meet a group of friends at a park just below the Mount Timpanogas Temple to play board games. I played Risk for the first time in my life and actually found it to be kind of fun. Not a game I want to play every day, but I had fun. Then we headed for lunch at Subway and found another park closer to where lunch was to play more games before we had to head back to get all dressed up.

I really was having more fun then I'd expected and as I headed off to get my hair & make-up done by a friend, I was nervous again. I wore a dark forest green dress and my hair was pinned up in curls. When Chris arrived I was surprised (and a little embarrassed even) when I walked into my living room to see my date wearing a top hat, tux, gloves and even a cane. I think I was embarrassed more because he'd done it for me and he looked really nice. (Shh don't tell him I said that) After he put on my wrist corsage and I'd pinned his boutonniere on him, we headed to dinner. My first experience at Macaroni Grill, which was very yummy and I totally loved that I could draw on the table. (See I have my child-like moments) I'll admit that the dish that he got kind of grossed me out, especially when he slurped out the oyster or whatever it was out of its shell. I probably turned a few shades of green.

We made our entrance into the dance, but found that we had so very little time. My parents were very strict on my curfew and although the dance was a big deal, I had not been given an extension. So we made the decision to dance a few dances, then waited in line for pictures. The pictures turned out really cute. (If I can find my copies I'll post them up) Then we packed up and headed back to my house. I was sad that our night was ending so soon. I really had had a blast. He had surprised me, quite pleasantly. We actually sat around at my house talking with my parents for half hour after we got back. With a hug goodbye, I think I realized that things were going to be different.

We began dating. I'll admit as much as I loved talking with him and being with him, there was a certain physical aspect that seemed to draw us together. My parents had this crazy rule that every two dates with the same boy, I had to go out with someone else. I see now what they were trying to do, but they themselves have admitted to me that they found ways to break that very rule when they were dating. And like them, Chris and I found ways to break that rule too. I don't remember the first time we kissed exactly, more that it was the best kiss I'd ever had, which was only the second one ever. I was starting to fall in love with him and I was scared.

Want to vanish inside your kiss
Everyday I love you more and more
Listen to my heart, can you hear it sings
Telling me to give you everything
Seasons may change winter to spring
But I love you until the end of time

Come what may, come what may
 I will love you until my dying day

Our early romance seemed to burn very bright and very hot, for a time anyway. I was afraid. I was falling in love and wasn't ready to be. I asked him to MORP by cutting up my question and taping individual letters on pieces of candy in a big jar. We tied balloons to the jar and my sisters delivered it, while I spied from the back of the car. His response was given with a romantic poem and a heart full of kisses (chocolate ones, that is). My best friend and I made our dates & ourselves matching tied-dyed shirts. They said 'He's with me' and 'She's with me.' We went to the local amusement park and rode on all the rides & had a picnic in the middle of the park. Unfortunately, Chris got heat exhaustion and wasn't up to a whole lot after that. We watched a creepy movie at my friend's house, before we made a brief appearance at the dance. We got fun pictures done, danced a dance or two, then headed back to finish watching our movie.

Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place
Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace
Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste
It all revolves around you

And there's no mountain too high no river too wide
Sing out this song and I'll be there by your side
Storm clouds may gather and stars may collide
But I love you until the end of time

That first summer was a real test for us. My parents were wanting us to slow down and he went away to work at a Boy Scout Summer camp. He only got to come home every couple of weekends. He missed my birthday and when he came back to celebrate with me, well things didn't go very well. Something had happened while he was gone, a situation that he struggled to understand and threatened to tear us apart. He didn't know how to help me and when he made a poor choice in words, I freaked out and pushed him away. We spent the whole time at my party arguing, he brought me roses and I refused to forgive him. His words had struck a nerve and I was bound & determined to never forgive him. He went back to camp and didn't come back home until just before school started. We quit talking to each other and I foolishly tried to move on. A boy at work knew the right words to say, where Chris hadn't, and I thought that I needed to be with this new boy.

We slowly managed to be friends and I began to go to him to talk. I talked about this other boy and Chris, being the sweetheart that he was, listened, although it was breaking his heart to hear me cry over another boy. The Other Boy, wasn't truly as good as he seemed and ended up lying to me & breaking my teenage heart. All the while Chris and I grew closer, but instead of it all being physical, we had become best friends. I could tell him anything and often did. We also had a bit of an interesting relationship. We were friends with benefits, at least benefits when we were hiding backstage during play practice that fall and we'd steal kisses in the curtains. We remained best friends throughout our Senior year, until something pivotal occurred. I had a dance accident in Social Dance at school the first day of November and ended up needing surgery in February. I was out of school for six weeks, before I could come back and more or less suffer through school.

Chris came to see me while I was home recovering. In fact I remember only vaguely him and a few of our other friends coming to see me the day after surgery. My girl friend had come to do my hair and make me presentable. Then when they all arrived, all I could focus on and remember of that visit was that he didn't talk to me the whole time he was there. Maybe I scared him, because apparently I looked like hell. He came a few other times to visit and talk with me. I had missed his birthday during the first few days after my surgery, so with the help of my next door neighbor I created a photo slide show for him. I had even gotten his mom to pick out pictures of him growing up and surprised him with this amazing slide show. I had spent a lot of time on it.

In the process of working on this project and being away from him for so long, I realized something. I was in love with him and I didn't want to be apart anymore. I had long forgiven him for the things he'd said that summer, it didn't matter anymore. When I came back to school I told him as much. Now it was trying to get around my parents dumb dating rule. During a camping trip with my family, my parents and I had a long talk about Chris & I. We all came to the understanding that I was in love with him and that we wanted to be able to date seriously. My parents gave us their permission and our relationship came out in the open. Which was very nice.

We started talking about getting married. I was now certain that getting married to him was what I wanted. I thought he felt that way too, but it seems a lot of that came from me pressuring him. And after a fight the night before our high school graduation, he proposed to me on the front porch of a friend's house. He asked my Dad for my hand in marriage and I delightedly told everyone our news. I hadn't been thinking of him or I had but I assumed we wanted the same thing. He ended up telling my Grandfather that he wasn't ready to get married and that he was going to tell me so later that night. So, my whole family knew the truth and I didn't. Following the graduation ceremony and celebrating with my family, Chris, my best friend, her boyfriend and I went with a group of single adults on a camp out. While we were there he broke the news to me and I was devastated.  We fought and argued.

The next day after taking a side trip to walk around the Manti Temple, we talked and even prayed together. We decided to stay engaged, but take our time before we got married. In a few weeks he was shipping off to Basic training for the Army and he wanted to be here while we planned things. I could handle that. It was really hard telling him goodbye, knowing we'd spend the next six months or so apart. We figured it would be good for us, if not easy. I wrote to him religiously the first few months, but we hit a snag in our relationship. I wanted to start planning our wedding and start figuring things out while he was gone. I had no idea at the time what he was going through at Basic and really until you've been through it you can't have any real idea.

Come what may, come what may
I will love you until my dying day

He felt pressure from me and he was under a lot of stress. He got hurt while he was there and ended up being recycled into a new Basic training company, lengthening how long he was going to be there. I don't know exactly what happened to be honest, but we got in a fight through our letters (how we managed to do that I couldn't tell you).  We quit talking to each other and didn't really talk for the last couple of months he was there. I stayed in touch with his family, they had adopted me into the family and so I heard news about him from them. When it came time for him to come home, we actually talked on the phone for like 6 hours one night. I was staying at my Grandma's for a while and since I hadn't known exactly where he and I stood with each other, I hadn't made too much of an effort to be home. After we had talked all night, he had asked me to come to his Army Unit's Christmas party with his parents and be his date. I accepted and made arrangements to get home. My best friend came over that morning and helped me get all dressed up. I was so nervous, we hadn't seen each other in six months. His parents came to pick me up and we headed to the party.

Oh there were butterflies in my stomach and I gave him a big hug when I saw him. My heart leapt into my throat. I still loved him, I realized as I looked into his green eyes, madly and desperately in love. It hadn't changed in all those months. We secretly held hands under the table and played footsies. I was in heaven.

Oh come what may, come what may
I will love you

The next couple of years presented new problems for us. Things that took work to get through and as much as we loved each other, neither one of us was always very nice to each other. Our relationship took turns we hadn't planned on and really tried us. We break up and then got engaged again multiple times. He made plans to serve an LDS mission for our Church, but things didn't work out. We got a lot of our screaming and fighting out in those years before. We loved each other, but couldn't live with or without each other. I joined the Army in 2005 and while I was gone for training. He felt he needed to be free of me, that he needed to grow and experience things. I didn't understand that need, because I needed him. I needed his support in what I was doing. I wasn't exactly getting it from home and I thought my fiance of all people should be there for me. He hardly wrote me (I know how he felt) and when he finally wrote me my first letter it was to tell me we were done. I was heartbroken and devastated. What a place to be told by the man you love that he wants to move on without you.

We kind of got back together when I came home for Christmas, but it was awkward and I knew things still weren't right. He told me while I was home that he'd volunteered to deploy to Iraq and he was just waiting on his orders. His orders came a few days after I went back to finish my training. He was gone within a couple days of that, gone to start premob training. I came home and felt lost without him. I still felt that things were off with us and that they were eventually going to come to a head. And they did. I wanted to make plans to get married when he got home from Iraq and to make plans to meet somewhere fun for his R&R. He suddenly snapped at me and told me he didn't want to make plans with me. We fought over the phone and he hung up on me. I tried to call him back and it went straight to voicemail. So I did what came to mind next, I broke up with him over his voicemail. I wanted to be with someone who wanted to make plans with me.

I attempted to move on and had my cousin set me up with a guy. A guy, I tried very hard to make things work with, he was very nice, but it just wasn't Chris. Chris and I eventually began talking again, but we were just friends. Except he hated hearing about guys hitting on me, but it was so hard to talk to him any different then I had before. We decided on things we couldn't talk about and I kept dating the other guy. I guess things hit a point for Chris when he realized he missed me and that he didn't want to live without me. He called one night and kept calling & calling. I was on a date with that other guy and finally decided to answer Chris' call. He was crying and he told me he needed to talk to me. I told him I couldn't talk right that moment and would call him later. He wanted to know why I couldn't, I didn't feel I should tell him I was on a date, but after he kept begging to know why I couldn't talk, I told him.

I think he was in shock that I was dating and it hit him hard. It took us a few days to get to talk, since the next night there was a huge sand storm where he was and cell reception sucked. We talked and he told me that he'd been stupid. That he couldn't live without me. There was something different about him, about talking to him. I felt like this time maybe it could work. So we, decided to try it again, which I know is a little weird since I wouldn't get to see him for like six months or more. My parents noticed when I put my rings back on and I got lectured about him being a flake. Look at how he's treated you, of course I wanted to point out I hadn't always been very nice myself.

Chris and I were talking one day when he mentioned that they might possibly get a couple days of leave before they went overseas. I was elated at the idea and somehow we started talking about if he got leave that we should get married. The more we talked about it the more we seemed set on it. We talked about maybe eloping, but kind of decided that we'd piss off too many people if we did that. When he finally got word that they were going to get four days of leave in a week, we decided we really were going to get married. We'd have his family's Bishop marry us at their ward house and that we'd keep it simple.

I was there at his parent's house when he called them to tell them we were getting married. His Dad had already figured out we were going to and his Mom was shocked. My parents were even more in shock. But they supported us even though I think they had concerns, we were adults after all. We were married April 15, 2006 and we're going on seven years.

Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place...

Come what may, come what may
I will love you until my dying day 

I hope I haven't bored you too much with all the crazy details of my relationship with my Hubby. I really had fun finally writing out my relationship with my Hubby. Over the last 11 years, we've been through a lot and its made our marriage & relationship what it is. This was inspired by Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop at Mama's Losin' It. Go check her blog out and join in all the fun!

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Kids Say the Darnedest Things Week 1

As any parent knows kids often say the darnedest things. They have no concept of what's polite or even politically correct (of course we all know adults who seem to fall into this category, too). Having four kids under the age of five often lends itself to some very strange and hilarious conversations. I'm hoping to start a weekly segment on here where I post the weeks most hilarious conversations or one-liners from my incredible children.

We moved into our new house a few months ago and due to my health being so poor, we haven't really gotten as settled in as we'd like and are still unpacking boxes, trying to find a home for everything. So, on Friday this last week I had to go in for surgery (the 4th time this year) and so my folks took my three older kids for the weekend, to give me more rest and allow my husband to focus more on me & our baby. This gave him enough time that he was able to clean and organize a little bit more. Our house is starting to look and feel more like home, but it still has a long way to go. On Sunday I was doing something in the kitchen (one of two in our new place) when Aislynn came running in and the first thing she said was, "How come you cleaned My House?" Apparently we're not allowed to clean the house and put stuff away. I had to laugh when I told her "Cause we wanted too." Then she ran out to tell my parents we'd cleaned the house.

Oh what would I do without my crazy kids? I'm not sure, but I never want to find out!