Thursday: Thoughts and Thanks

Dear Hubs: Happy Un-birthday! How does it feel to be old like me? Dear Uncle: Today you wore a black rubber bracelet that said "No Diggity, No Doubt". You win the awesome accessory of the week award and a pony. Ps. I'm still waiting to hear Boot Scootin' Boogie. Dear Customers: Your redneckness and politically in-correct behavior make my job more fun than Disney World. Dear Mutts: Those belly rubs and treats I promised last week aren't happening. 3 pairs of underwear in 2 days?!? UNACCEPTABLE. Tuck your tails and hide. Dear Redcar: Thanks for being so shiney. Every morning feels like Christmas! Dear LOML: Thanks for helping Uncle Nate celebrate his birthday. Roman, your awesome dance skills will make you famous one day, I'm sure of it (Yes Jason, dancing, not football. Think MJ, but bigger. Just Sayin'). Dear Mom: I'm so proud of you, for just being you. Wish I could buy you a rainbow that grew Skittles all year long. Dear Spark: How did I ever live without you? You're like grown-up gasoline. Dear Sweet Blog Readers: Thank you so much for all of your kind words! Y'all make me melt like a popsicle on the 4th of July. Speaking of, Dear 4th of July Weekend: You were like an over-the-shoulder-sneak-attack-hug. I didn't even see you coming! Thanks for the surprise 3 day weekend. I'm looking forward to you! Dear American Soldiers: I'm forever grateful for your selfless sacrifice and the freedom it provides me.

What are y'all thankful for this 4th of July?

Always,

L

Birthday Boy

Sorry to go all "old school" with this photo, but now-a-days he acts like my camera will burn the skin right off of his face (read: Drama Queen). But whatev. I'll keep him :)


Nathan Allen,

I'm being forced to write this at the very tail end of your birthday because you hijacked all my technology (iphone, macbook, iPad *yes I have an Apple problem. That's not the point. Focus!*) so you would have my undivided attention for the entire day. I was happy to do this since I refused your other birthday request. You're 24. You don't need a trampoline. Even if you measured the yard and it would have fit. Sorry, but I'd like to keep you (all of you) around for the next 50 years (or more) and don't need you going and getting yourself paralyzed. Yes, I love you that much. You're welcome.

I was thinking about it today, and this is the 9th year I've gotten to celebrate you. We're quickly approaching that mark where we will have been with each other more of our lives than without. Crazy huh? Some days (like today) I feel like we just started this little circus of ours. But here we are living the ultimate fairy tale. I get to wake up every morning and "play house" with my best friend. Even if we aren't very good grown-ups...at least we have fun.

I know I've said this a million times before, but I really am your biggest fan. No matter what the rest of the world is doing, thinking, saying, I'll always be on the sidelines cheering you on. You do the same thing for me. I love the team that we make.

I love that you laugh at the same things I do (even when it's inappropriate, while we're at church). I love that you take care of the little things I can never seem to remember. I don't love that you leave your wet towels on the floor, but like someone really smart once told me, at least you aren't leaving them on the floor at someone else's house. I love that we eat popsicles for breakfast on Saturdays, just because we can. I love that you adore your neice and nephew and would do anything for their curls and giggles, just like me. I love that you can complete my sentences, sometimes after only one word. I love knowing that when you read this, you'll roll your eyes and say I'm dumb, because you are a "moment" ruiner and don't like being the center of attention. But mostly, I love that you picked me. You could of had anyone, and I know that. Trust me, I'm the one who got lucky.

Happy birthday my love. I hope today was everything you wanted it to be. I'm so honored that I get to celebrate you for the rest of my life. You're my everything.



Always,

L

26 years and stronger than ever...

Today my parents celebrate their 26th wedding anniversary and their 27th year together. Friday, June 28, 1985 (one year to the day of their first date) they said "I do" in front of their family and friends. They were both incredibly young (my mom was only 18 and my dad was 21) but they have spent the last 26 years showing me what it really means to truly love one another. My dad told me years ago that marriage isn't a binding contract, it's a daily choice to wake up and love the person you pledged your life to. Even when it's hard. Even when they make you crazy. Even on the days you don't feel like it. I've only been married two years and I'm just now starting to scratch the surface of understanding that type of commitment. Not just to my spouce, but to both of our families. The quote below is one of my absolute favorites. I feel like it is the perfect summation of my parents marriage and it's impact on my life.

"I didn't marry you because you were perfect. I didn't even
marry you because I loved you. I married you because you
gave me a promise. That promise made up for your faults.
And the promise I gave you made up for mine. Two imperfect
people got married and it was the promise that made the marriage.
And when our children were growing up, it wasn't a house that
protected them; and it wasn't our love that protected them - it was that
promise."
Thornton Wilder, The Skin of Our Teeth

I'm so proud of my parents. I'm so honored that they've kept that promise they made all those year ago. I'm so blessed to have grown up in a house with a mother and a father who were each equally committed to giving me the best life possible. I know it hasn't been easy. I know they've had fights, and disagreements; every good marriage does. I'm sure there have been days where it would have been easier just to call it quits...but they didn't. And I can never thank them enough for that. I can only pray that a quarter century from now, Nathan and I are as happy and in love and dedicated to one another as my parents are today. Thank you for setting such an admirable example for me and my brothers. I love you both more than I could ever put into words.

"A successful marriage requires falling in love many times, always with the same person." -M. McLaughlin

Always,

L

Real World: Wife Eddition

Weekend wrap. Ok ya'll, to say that this weekend went anything other than planned is the understatement of the century (in a good way...mostly).

I got off work on Friday and headed to Southern Oklahoma McKinney to see my lovely WIFEY! I had some time to kill, so I asked an old friend from college (read: OMG I'm officially ancient and that's depressing...whatev) if he would like to meet for drinks and catch up while we waited on Bri. He obliged and the 3 of us met up at our old haunt (Chili's, duh) to reminicse and enjoy each other's company.

I'd love to put a bookmark right here and say that this was all that happened during our time together and that we all parted ways and lived happily ever after and yadda, yadda, yadda...but that would be a lie, and not nearly as entertaining as the story I'm about to tell. And, well, isn't that what the blog is for?

Disclaimer: this story is an acurate account of what happened; names have been changed for the sole purpose of maintaining what little dignity the parties involved have left. And also, so I can deny I'm actually writing about them and try and pass this off as a "fiction" piece...you know, that I dreamed about....while hopped up on....Nyquil? Clever, I know (just go with it).
Ok, here goes:

Sitting, eating, laughing, drinking, soaking up all the warm fuzzies you get by hanging out with people who know you (all of you, including your crazy irrational fears and the fact that you can't hold your liquor) and basically just enjoying the moment. Take this image, and drive a Volkswagon-van-going-150-mph-with-its-brakes-cut straight through the middle and presto chango you have a glimpse of what this evening turned into.
C-L-U-S-T-E-R to the nth degree.

I guess you might need a little background info. College friend, we'll call him "John", has a live in 20 year old girlfriend who loathes the ground I walk on. I'm a female, and aparently that makes me a threat to her life and is grounds for her to hate me and keep "John" and I from being friends. You know the kind, I'm sure. So, needless to say, she's not a member of my fan club and definitely did not appreciate this fun little rondevu.

Basically, "Jane" (John's girlfriend) follows him to the restraunt, lies in wait outside until steam is ACTUALLY POURING OUT HER EARS, ambushes the building, bull rushes our table and full steam ahead, rears back, close-fist-swings and plants one right on the side of John's head (who was looking down at his phone and never even saw it coming). I'm going to give you a few seconds to digest that. You good? Is your blood pressure spiking? Because mine sure did...To quote my wife, at this point of our dinner "Shit just got REAL" and things got superrrr uncomfortable...for him. We just pretended we were being Punked, or filmed for our own episode of The Real World: Chili's on McDermott. Blank stares from fellow patrons, and few drinks later, Jane returns with a vengence and strikes John in the face, again.


*Cue the proverbial round two bell and a cheering audience*

It looked something like this:



What followed was probably one of the most hysterical 911 calls in history "um yes, I need to report a case of aggravated domestic abuse via girl in a purple leopard dress". Not even kidding. Police come, do a sweep, can't find her, offer up papers to allow John to press charges, we all crash from the adrenaline rush and go home. But not before wife sends this text:


Which becomes the quote of the weekend. Hahahaha!!

Speaking of, the remainder of the weekend went off without a hitch. There was some spontaneous planking with 2 year olds:


Snuggly wifey time:

And our very own version of Say Yes to the Dress; where, *drum roll please* my wife found her PERFECT wedding dress that made us all cry. (Dress not pictured for obvious traditional reasons).

I'm so incredibly happy for her and Ryan and feel so blessed to get to be a part of their special day! Can't wait for more bridesmaid squad adventures with Raven and Sister, and most importantly I can't wait to stand next to my wife and watch her marry her best friend. LOVE IT!!

Everyday Love

This song was playing as soon as I got into the car this morning. I've always liked it, but never paid much mind to the lyrics. Today I did, and I decided this could be mine and Nate's anthem.

I really can't get enough, Nathan Allen. Thanks for holding my hand and going through this everyday love with me. I wouldn't be me without you.

Rascal Flatts: This Everyday Love

Can't get enough of this everyday love
Can't get enough of this everyday love

Each morning the sun shines through my window
Lands on the face of a dream come true
I shuffle to the kitchen for my coffee
And catch up on the front page morning news
Then she walks up behind me and throws her arms around my neck
Just another normal thing I've come to expect

[Chorus]
It's ordinary plain and simple
Typical, this everyday love
Same ol', same ol' keeping it new
Emotions, so familiar
Nothing about it too peculiar
Oh, but I can't get enough
Of this everyday love

Every afternoon I make a phone call
Listen to the voice that warms my heart
I drag myself through a few more hours
Then head on home to try and beat the dark
Her smile will be right there, when I step through that door
And it'll be that way tomorrow, just like everyday before

[Repeat Chorus]

Wouldn't change one single thing about it
No, it's run-of-the-mill, still I can't live without it

[Repeat Chorus]

Yeah, of this everyday love
Can't get enough of this everyday love
Can't get enough of this everyday love
Can't get enough of this everyday love
Can't get enough

If you've never heard this before, you can go listen to the song here.

Always,

L

Thursday's Thoughts & Thanks

I've recently been inspired by my incredibly thoughtful, letter writing, postcard sending Yankee cousin. She will be single handidly responsible for keeping the USPS in business (you're welcome). Kay makes checking my mail fun (on days other than just my birthday) and it's one of the many things that makes her fantastically unique. I try to reciprocate, but let's be honest, I pretty much suck at sending mail. All of that to say this: I'm going to take every Thursday and use it as an opportunity to send little bloggy mini-letters to any and everything. My hope is that this will help me focus on things I'm thankful for, and remind me to take in the little details throughout the week that give my life it's sparkle. I by no means take credit for this idea. There are countless blog themes floating around out there, I just feel like this one will be good for me. Ya dig?

Dear hubs: this morning I was responsible for waking us up to do yoga. I falied. Again. I'm sorry our bed has magic powers that make me sleep like a hibernating bear. Thanks for loving me anyway. Dear mutts: you have not eaten a single pair of my undergarments in almost a week. belly rubs and extra treats are heading your way. Keep it up. Dear 7-11: Two things. First, thanks for the awesome cup of strawberries to go for breakfast. You get 2 points and a unicorn for this. However, I will be deducting 1.8 points for the banana you tricked me into buying. That thing went from bright yellow to brown in turbo mach speed. I don't appreciate banana teases. Dear baby fever: if you could turn it down a notch or two, that would be awesome with a side of cupcakes. Capiche? Dear Uncle: Today you sang "Space Cowboy" while sending a fax; thanks for making work a fun place to be. And if you're taking requests, I'd enjoy hearing your rendition of "Boot Scootin' Boogie"...just sayin'. Dear Pandora: today you played Seconhand Serenade twice in one redcar trip and took me back to college and simpler times. I enjoyed this trip down memory lane. Dear Texas: last night you put on one heck of a sunset. I expect more where that came from throughout the summer. Dear Sonic: your .99 cent Happy Hours are directly responsible for my continued addiction to Dr. Pepper. So. Not. Cool. Dear LOML: thanks for enjoying Kids Club and for being the proverbial light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel to my daily workout. I'd climb mountains for your curls and giggles.

Always,

L

Forever: For Father's Day

For those of you who don't know, my job as toilet salesman extraordinaire is "the family business". This means I get the pleasure of working alongside my dad, and uncle at the business that my RaRa (Grandfather) created. During the week I'm here more than I'm at home. I've been in and out of my dad's office probably 15 times today already. But aparently I'm oblivious because I've been overlooking a piece of paper he has tucked away in a corner of his credenza. Today I saw it...and in honor of Father's Day I want to share it with whoever happens to stumble across this blog. This is an email I sent my dad back in 2008, that, unbeknownst to me, he printed and has been keepnig on his desk all this time. The words I wrote then, ring more true today than ever before; and I want the whole world to know.

Hey Pals,
I'm just sitting here at work, tired as a dog...I'm sure you can relate. I've been meaning to send you this email for a while, and I really have no good excuse for why I haven't. Basically I wanted to tell you this:
I love you. I know that phrase gets tossed around all the time, by people who don't even have the faintest idea what it really means, but I mean it more than anything I've ever said. I really don't know what I would do without you most days; actually, everyday. You always seem to be right there when I'm about to fall apart, even from 300 miles away. I'm serious. There have been so many days these past few weeks where I was about 3 seconds away from throwing my hands up and quitting, and then my phone would ring. And there you were with something encouraging to say...the exact thing I needed to hear at that moment. I don't know how you do it. You get up every day without complaining and take on the world for all of us. You bend over backward to make sure we are happy and I don't wkno how i could ever not seen that or taken it for granted. The only way I can even think about trying to repay you is by raising my future children the same way. Never waivering, always steadfast, always consistent in love. And in the mean time, I'll keep working my tail off to make you proud. You've taught me things most girls never get the chance to know. You've given me strength to face even the worst days. Self esteem enough to share with others. Confidence to take chances and not worry about failing. Faith to know that we serve a God who is bigger than all of this and who loves us even when we falter. You've given me a life that anyone would be jealous to lead, and I'm so sorry if I ever acted as if I didn't appreciate it. I was talking to some lady in the shop the other day, and somehow you came up. I was in the middle of talking her head off when she started to cry. When I asked her what was wrong she said, "Absolutely nothing. It is just so refreshing to see someone so young, so happy, and so proud of her father. Most girls don't get to know what it is like to have that kind of perfect relationship. I know, because I had it with my father, and he passed away last year."
I pretty much started sobbing when she finally left, but it got me thinking about something I'd never even considered before...life after you. It's not something I will dwell on, because I don't feel like crying, but there is something I want you to know for whenever that day does come. You are the best dad any girl could ever ask for...better than any dad I've ever met, or ever will meet. I have no doubt we are still going to have our fights now and then, but I want you to know that you are my hero. I want to be just like you as a leader, as a parent, and as a friend. You're commitment to me as a parent is the greatest gift I will ever receive and I just want to say thank you. You never gave up on me, even when I was the biggest brattiest adolescent, adn stubbornest, most obnoxious, know-it-all teenager. Even when I swore I'd never talk to you again, said I hated you, and acted like you were ruining my life. Turns out you were molding me into the person I am proud to be today. Someone who will be forever grateful for having her daddy, her Palsey, as her best friend. I would hate to think I made it this far in life without telling you exactly what you mean to me. I'm sure I'll send more of these as the years go on, and I learn even more how invaluable our relationship is. i'm just glad I know how lucky I am while I still have it. Thank you for everything.
I love you with all of my heart.

Always,

L

I hate you. You stink.

Here's my take on a classic Jack Prelutsky. No judging permitted.

Homework! Laundry!, Oh Homework! Laundry!

Laundry! Oh, Laundry!
I hate you! You stink!
I wish I could wash you away in the sink,
if only a bomb
would explode you to bits.
Laundry! Oh, laundry!
You're giving me fits.
I'd rather take baths
with a man-eating shark,
or wrestle a lion alone in the dark,
eat spinach and liver,
pet ten porcupines,
than tackle the laundry,
my husband assigns.

Laundry! Oh, laundry!
you're last on my list,
I simply can't see
why you even exist.
If you just disappeared,
it would tickle me pink.
Laundry! Oh, laundry!
I hate you! You stink!

Reason # 372 that we're the worst grown-ups ever.

So. Who wants to tackle this for me? Anyone?

No? Fine. I guess I'll just have to have the littlest LOML help me.

Your loss...

Extreme Makeover: Pit Bull Edition

So this morning, while enjoying (read: going-through-the-motions-oh-my-gosh-can-I-PLEASE-just-miraculously-get-skinny-in-my-sleeep!!!) a little yoga I was reminded of a story I felt y'all might enjoy. Please keep in mind that downward dog is an especially difficult position to maintain while, at the same time, trying to aviod the ACTUAL dogs who have deemed 5:30 an appropriate time to play London bridges beneath ME. Awesome. Anyway, while getting my nameste on, I glanced over to our bedroom door and noticed the sweet spot where hubs and I got to play Ty Pennington in our own bizzare eddition of an Extreme Makeover...via pit bull.

Let me set the stage for you. We own one of the DUMBEST dogs on the planet. She's sweet, overly affection, afraid of her own shadow, and blah, blah, blah but Lord have mercy is she DETERMINED. The dog only has one setting: go. So, if she sets her mind on something, and someone isn't there to assist in her new endeavor....well, bless.your.heart. It's going to get ugly.

On this particular day, she decided she needed her red kong ball. Which, just so happened to be located behind our CLOSED bedroom door. However, the space underneath said door was just big enough for her to be able to see and smell the ball. No big deal right? W-R-O-N-G. She still wants the ball. Needs the ball. Oh-my-gosh-someone-please-give-me-the-damn-ball-or-my-tiny-brain-might-explode!!! So what does she do? I give you, exhibit A:

Let me give you a few moments to digest that lovely image. You good? You feel like committing mass genocide on all the dogs in your house? No? Just me? Ok then. Here's a little sample of the dialouge from this glorious afternoon. *Phone Rings*

Me: Hello?
Hubs: *heavy breathing reminiscent of a serial killer calling to taunt his latest victim*
Me: Hello? Nate? What's going on?
Hubs: I'm. going. to. kill. her. (spoken in the calmest/eeriest voice you've ever heard)
Me: Who? The dogs? Lady? *sinking pit in my stomach* Ohmygosh what did she do now?
Hubs: I can't. I. I'm going to send you a picture. I just. This dog. ARGHHHHH!
Me: ok, I think it just came...through. Kill her. Or I will as soon as I get home. Your choice.
Hubs: I would if I could find her.

Cut to my 70 lb idiot mutt "hiding" under the bed. With her crooked tail and back legs sticking out praying to the dog gods that we show her mercy. And give her the ball.

Oh the joys of doggy parenting. Anyway, we cooled our jets until the weekend and then managed to whip up this sweet little repair.

Ta-da! Good as...well...as its gonna get. Not to bad though, right? Moral of the story: We are the only house in the hood who has to dog proof the house before we go anywhere. Because not even wood paneling, carpet, padding, CONCRETE, or siding will keep our dog from her precious.

Well, that about wraps up this segement of "and you thought your dogs were bad..." Stay tuned for more stories about how my husband and I are the absolute worst grown ups on the planet and if-dogs-are-a-reflection-of-our-child-rearing-abilities-then-we-are-screweddddd with a capital F (for fail...or, you know, that other four letter word).

Always,

L

Ps. Please don't call the SPCA or Humaine Society. We didn't actually hurt the dog. And if you've ever met any of our animals, you know they are spoiled beyond repair. Just thought I'd throw that out there...

Take 2...

Ok, blog world, i'm back. So far in my blogger journey I've been a D minus student at best. To be fair, (and shamelessly air my own dirty laundry) I spend countless hours reading and internet stalking all of these amazing writers in the blog-o-sphere. So really, I never technically left, not completely anyway. My downfall is that while reading/admiring (read: living-vicarioulsy-through-other-people's-adventures) I quickly become intimidated and resign to silently stalk rather than post. Lame? Definitely. But I'm working on it. So now that I have publicly psychoanalyzed myself, and admitted that I have a *problem* I'm going to try again and hope that this time it sticks.

Stay tuned for the regularly scheduled rantings and ravings of a housewife turned toilet salesman (and no, that's not a joke...)

Always,

L