Saturday, August 11, 2012
I have been mute since April.... April which seems like four years ago, instead of four months. April before we partied with my new two-year old, before friends donated blood with us, before we had (pretend) tea, and dug up shells on the beach, and clapped when the whales jumped out of the water and drove 1500 miles to ride horses with Grandpa and eat ice cream with cousins. Yes, that was before kindergarten ended and concussions were had and heads stapled. I guess that for four months we have been piling up experiences - we have giggled and cried and had more than a few tantrums, and all of the sudden it is mid-August and summer isn't just ahead, but almost over. And while I am sick-to-death of Texas summer heat, I mourn the end of summer's late nights and schedule-less days, but mostly I mourn the hours that Katelin will soon be with Mrs. Somebody instead of home with us - eating popsicles, making trophies out of paper cups that say "#1 sister", selling lemonade, and playing pirates with Seth.
Katelin isn't too excited either, telling me, "I have a bad feeling about first grade." Even though I wanted to say, okay, stay home with me and be a pirate forever, I smiled and said, "It's gonna be great." I really hope those first-grade teachers don't make a liar out of me.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Saturday, March 31, 2012
I hope so. I don't know. But when I hear the sound of the brad nailer, I'm thankful for it... and all of the magic that tool might bring.
Monday, March 12, 2012
Sometime during my 24th year of life, I became known as the “maybe” girl. My hallmark line was from a song by Jack Johnson, “It seems to me that maybe, pretty much always means no.”
My roommates and several of our friends loved to tease me about my inability to commit to anything. Movies with our friends upstairs? Game night at Dave's? Meeting up at Cafe Sabor? My response – Maybe. Maybe. And Maybe.
In my case, however, maybe didn't always mean, no. For me it really meant maybe. I guess I'm someone who likes to think through things. Spontaneity is not my forte.
So apparently, it was no surprise that when Trevor Budge, the new guy who was just starting to seem kind of extraordinary to me, showed up at Ro's birthday party inviting us all to Yellowstone for a weekend trip, my response, was, “Maybe.”
I remember well mulling over the decision in my head. There was something about Trevor, but I wasn't really sure how I felt about him. I had plenty going on as a second-year junior high teacher, and I just wasn't sure I could afford a weekend away...
So, I did what I always do with decisions small and big. I prayed. The answer came to my mind,How will you ever know about Trevor if you don't go?
I called him the following morning (the day of the trip), “I'm coming.” I told him.
Trevor would later tell me how surprised and excited he was when he got that phone call. This time, maybe had become a yes... And when he asked me to marry him two months later, I said, “Yes,” once again, this time, with no hesitations.