I didn't know love, until I met him.

I remember when I first knew I loved him. It was the day when I knew that I didn't want to be without him in my life. The day when I tried to imagine not being embraced by him, not being able to feel his whispers against my cheek, or having his arms around me.

Everyone else in my life seemed to know that he was the one for me, save for me. I was scared to lose him, as I'd lost so many other friends once that line was crossed. Fate, as it has its way, had other plans.

When my grandfather, Popop, was in the hospital, I couldn't drive home after the visits. I was too emotional. There were a few times I made it in on my own, but my love would travel to my house, pick me up and take me there. He and I were the last ones to see Popop conscious, and you'd have thought I'd known then, when my grandfather who was lying there miserable with the tubes in his throat, trying desperately to communicate with me, saw him walk in the room.

He walked in with a confidence, his black trench coat swirling about him. And my grandfather's face lit up and glowed with a smile that I hadn't seen in months. He knew. HE KNEW. And it would still be over a half year before I accepted that this man was for me.

We started out as friends, and then it blossomed into something more. He saw inside me. He believed in me.

I'd always doubted myself, until he came into my life, and showed me a glimpse of what he saw. He shared himself with me on so many levels, and love me - as I was. He listened to me. He paid attention to the details. He loved me.

Since then, he has taught me so many wonderful things. He has encouraged me and shown me what love is - from the willingness to let go of love, to embracing it with passion and vibrancy.

He showed me through his words, music, and touch. We connected on a level I didn't know was possible.

And now, he is my husband. Yes, it took a while, but he proved himself correct that day he told me I'd be his. Because I am - heart and soul my love, heart and soul.

Je t'adore. I adore you, my sweet. Thank you for finding me. Thank you for persevering. Thank you for convincing me that I am worth it. Thank you for choosing your equal.

AMLHCK

My One Thing

So, I've been thinking about this, a lot since my first post on it. What is my one thing? I started thinking about what my likes are, what I'm drawn to, etc. And, well, I'm coming out with an awareness about myself I believe I've been denying. Which, ties into this post interestingly enough, involving who I am.

Over the last few years, I've become a bit more logical, a bit more grounded in reality. It's been good, and fascinating, and has changed me. I've never really been grounded in reality to the extent I have been these last few years. I wouldn't consider myself to be a logical person, actually a part of me rebels against logic and rationalism. Though I've wanted to be these things, because they makes sense and can be proven, and easily defended most times. And yet, all I can say, is that many times it doesn't "feel" right.

If you met me many years ago, I'd have told you that "everything happens for a reason", just "let go and let god", karma is real, and that "everything is working out for the greater good", oh, and that yes, you definitely create your own reality via your thoughts. I'd also tell you, "I go by how it feels." I'm still on the wall with a few of these things, and I now totally understand why I got such crazy looks when I spouted these words off to others who didn't believe them. They were my truth, my center, my light and my comfort. And then, one day, someone in my life pointed out some things, and suddenly, I wasn't so sure anymore. I wasn't so sure about god either.

I'm digressing; I know.

I used to make most of my decisions based on how I felt. And, when I didn't, I ended up feeling bad. Feelings - as in sensations and emotions, have always been a large part of my life and my enjoyment of life. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized just how intertwined feelings are in my life. So, what is my one thing? Feeling, no, maybe a better word would be Sensual (as in basking in the senses).

I enjoy the various textures of materials. Give me soft sheets and fabric to wrap up in. My house is strewn with pillows and blankets. With the exception of the kitchen, I think I've pillows in every room actually...

I enjoy how I feel when I touch a fabric, or when I find a certain color or pattern that can only be described as yummy. Oh, how I love the calmness I feel when I see a color like khaki/sage green! Or the vivid color and scent of lavender! Pictures can stir within various sensations for me. I love how I feel when I complete a sewing project, or while I'm stitching.

I don't just look at certain things - I feel them. My grandmother's chairs feel soft and velvety, and enable me to feel her and think about her - even though she's not with me. Her crocheted blanket is the same way, and now I've her old outdoor table and chairs that are hard and firm metal, and stir emotions in me.

Oh, and food? I love chai lattes (both taste and texture) with peanut butter on toasted Ezekiel bread for breakfast. Or vanilla yogurt with fresh berries? Yum. Give me a pomegranate, and I am in heaven with the taste and texture. I love digging out the ruby red seeds (oh what color!) and feeling the crunchy squish followed by the sweet tartness - Oh how all of my senses just dance!

I love the taste of my friend Linda's homemade bread. She serves it with salad and cheese (usually), and it is heaven. It doesn't feel or taste the same if I'm not at the farm, and with her. I think it's because when I'm there, I'm not just enraptured with the taste and textures and scenery, but her love. And, I adore the feeling of love and feeling loved.

I read books, especially ones that leave me feeling good, peaceful, inspired, or blissful. And I like to read, because I like how it feels to hold a book and look at the words and just sit with it. I love reading outside, where I can feel the breeze and hear the wind chimes, and feel the sun.

When I watch a movie or video, if it moves me, it is because I feel it. I will cry if I am moved to it - be it because it is inspiring, loving, hopeful, or horrible. My heart aches along with the heart broken, sings along with the hopeful, and routes for the underdog. Whether it be watching an autistic student who was let on the team at the last minute and scores, to an underdog who's appearance only enhanced the voice, to the lady love of a native American warrior who jumps off the cliff after he was pushed rather than stay with the chieftain who claimed her - oh yeah. I'm feeling it, and crying my eyes out.

And then there are massages... oh. sweet. heaven. A massage of any kind? Bring it on! You can bet that I'm not only basking in how I feel; I'm taking in the feel of the sheets on the table as well the scent of the room and the sweet music. I absorb it all like a sponge. When I'm lucky enough to get hubby to rub my feet, or play with my hair - I bliss out.

I enjoy how I feel when I eat home cooked food versus store bought. I like the feeling of dancing to music, letting my body move to the beat, moving by feel. Before I fall asleep, I'm focused on the soft feel of the sheets and pillow, listening to the rhythm of hubby's (and sometimes the Pook's) breathing, and just basking in that moment of being and feeling and sensing it all. I like the feel of my husband's arms around me, his tender kisses, or when he looks at me and I can feel his love.

Heaven is present in my children, whom I breathe in and hold so close to me, for I know that "this too shall pass." I like to sometimes just sit and breathe and feel - the warm sun on my face, the wind blowing, the warmth and taste of hot tea or a cold drink. I enjoy experiencing events and people based on how they feel to me because I can jump in and absorb it all.

And not only do I enjoy feeling and being sensual - I like to create a sensual environment for others. When you come to my home, I aim for my guests to feel comforted, cared for, and wanted. Come for a meal, and you can bet that I (and my helpers) enjoyed setting the table, picking out music and cloth napkins, and creating a set mood.

I like inspring people feel good about themselves, and I like to help people connect with the joy, the love, being grateful and feeling wanted or needed. It's so much more when everyone feels the joy.

So, yeah, my one thing is Sensual. Definitely.

Falling in Love

One of my goals for the new year is to change my way of thinking. I've been working on this for years, and this year, I have a direction and plan. I am willing to be more compassionate with others, and especially myself.

A few years ago, when we were planning on selling our house and moving, I made a list of things I felt needed to be changed: painting on the inside, painting on the outside, painting the shutters and front door, putting up a fence, revamping rooms, etc. etc. Soon, all I began to see was what needed fixing, what needed to be changed. I started comparing it to what our new house might be like, what I wanted. Before I knew it, I was no longer in love with our house, and eagerly wanting to up and move.

Funny thing about that, we didn't move. The housing market was taking a turn, and it didn't make sense to move to another place with more space and land, that would cost us more money. So we stayed. And I was quite unhappy.

And then, somewhere along the line, I stopped focusing on what I wanted to be done, and started paying attention to what I had. Our house has an incredible exposure to the sun. Even on rainy days, if you open the curtains, you don't need to turn on lights. The rooms are cozy and comfortable. They allow me to always know where the kiddos are and keep an eye on them. Bit by bit, I began to fall in love with our house.

It didn't matter that our beige walls have a ton of picture holes in them, or that they have scribbles on them. Slowly, we began to rearrange the house. We got rid of those pictures that weren't us. We kept only those pictures we loved. We began to simplify the space and our stuff.

I fell in love with my house as it is. Where I once saw flaws, I saw personality. I accepted it as it was, and in the process fell in love with it's cozy, lived-in, eclectic look.

The beginning of 2008, I had managed to become obsessed with my flaws and changing myself. And then, somewhere along the line, something began to shift. I embraced my growing belly and the life within. I really, truly, basked in the moments with my eldest, as I knew our time as just us was coming to an end.

I stopped worrying and focusing on what I wanted for myself and my family, and I started focusing on what I had in my life. I stopped comparing myself to others, and thinking about what I should be doing.

Something amazing was happening. As I practiced acceptance and compassion with myself, it spilled over into the rest of my life. "This too shall pass" echoed in the back of my mind as I inhaled my newborn's scent, felt the softness of my eldest's cheek, and buried myself in my husband's arms.

I'm not sure when it happened. Suddenly, I found that I was falling in love with me. I embraced that I made time for things like Facebook and blogging, instead of spending time outside. I fell in love with my life. I enjoyed feeding my children and self. Things I once fought tooth and nail against and wanted to deny, I embraced.

Life became vivid and rose-colored. I wanted to take care of me, and I wanted to care about what others. I found that by showing myself compassion, it was easier to be compassionate to others. I was falling in love with me, and in turn life and people.

Events or things that once set off a down spiral, are now learning experiences. Change is an opportunity for adventure, to do something different.

It's going to be interesting to see what happens as I continue to shift my thinking and perspectives.

May 12... 7 years of bliss

Seven years on May 12 (yes I'm aware the post is a bit late), I married the love of my life. Seven years, one child, and one on the way later, I am even more in love with my sweet husband.

I adore this man. He is not only a gift in my life; he's a blessing. Each day, I fall more in love with him - if that is possible. He's an amazing father, and we are both so good for each other in so many ways.

Seven years ago, I walked down the aisle on a gorgeous May day on the arm of my father. It was so green and vibrant that day, with a bounty of blossoms, rays of sunshine, and at the end of the aisle was my future mate.

It hardly feels as though we've been married that long, even though I feel as though we've been together forever. He still makes my heart sing.

Thank you my love, for seven years of bliss and wonder. I look forward to being with you for many more.

AML

Peace and quiet

After an amazing weekend (that too about 3 days to recover from lack of sleep due to lots of fun!), I find myself sitting here in the quiet of early morning. Pook is still sleeping, twisted gracefully amongst the sheets, her face in blissful dream land.

I managed to pull myself from the bed around 5:30 am, to do some exercise, and found myself with that extra time and vigor I seem to have in the early am hours. (I know you night owls don't necessarily agree. :) )

In any case, I've missed the quiet. The last few days I've been sleeping in to try and catch up (but, do we ever really catch up?), and then last night, I couldn't sleep. (I've found a new game Kakuro.) Yet, still, I was able to awake to the rhythmic symphony of cicadas (or crickets - I'm not sure) that seems to be more prevelant in the wee hours of the morning.

Perhaps it's because last night, I made a conscious effort to reclaim my energy from a situation I'd been doting too long on, and, effectively wasting energy with worry, second guessing, and preparation for a possibility that simply may not be. And, yesterday, my sweet, marvelous, wonderful, and loving husband, saw this pain I'd been creating for myself. He took my hand, looked into my eyes, and helped me to become aware that if I wanted to expend energy on something, I should be more focused on him and Pook, than this other situation.

And then, my sweet love and I talked, and I realized that he knew that I was creating my pain. And yet, if someone else had consciously hurt me, he would indeed take action.

It was then my mind began to quiet, as I processed what he'd said. Sometimes, I'm aware of things, and yet not aware of things. And then, my heart just seemed to drop what it had been holding on to, and through the course of the evening, began to release what I'd been holding onto, and embrace the love for my husband and child.

And last night, when I couldn't sleep. I watched them both. I snuggled and kissed upon my sweet child's face. I got up, and wrote in my journal about my love for them, and how blessed I am to live the life I lead, love the people I love, and be the person I am - and my heart blossomed.

I wish...

I wish I could wave a wand, and make it clear to you, that you will find love again. That you can find love in someone who is worthy of you, who won't lie to you, who won't steal from you, push you, hit you, cheat on you, or manipulate you and your gift for opening your heart and loving because you feel you have no choice but to love, or that you can't find that love with anyone else.

I wish I could show you how strong you are, that the loneliness you feel will pass, and that sometimes, when your life has been threatened, regardless of sharing a child with that person - the best thing is to walk away. You don't have to stop loving, but some things, regardless of the hope we have cannot be fixed. And some things end in death.

You used to dream of love that was true, of a beautiful wedding and vows that were taken seriously not just by you, but another. And twice now, you've been burned. What's to say that there won't be a third? What's to say that you can't find love again, with someone who treats you as you love others?

I am not in your shoes. I have not walked your path. I do not know your heart, and I know that I see things in a much different light then you do. I stay back - it's your life, your choice, and nothing I say will influence you otherwise. But then, I don't think you are looking for advice this time. You follow your heart.

I care for you. I trust that only you know what is best for you, but it bothers me that your choices could end your life or the life of your child, although you may not see it that way.

I pray for you, because I love you and I don't want you to become one of those statistics because you thought you were doing the right thing, and ending up abused - verbally, mentally, and physically. And because praying is all I can do for you right now.

I pray, that you can find peace. That you can find love for yourself, and step away from those who claim they love you, but whose love involves abuse.

I do not want to loose you or your child to someone who doesn't love with the openess, forgiveness and freedom that you do. You are a gift, such a gift.

I do not know the answers. I do not know your path. But I do know your heart, and I can only pray it will keep you safe.

How we feel here at the home front:

It's been quiet in the sense that we seem to have turned a bit inward. I suppose having time to think and just bask in quiet will do that. New schedules, preparations, and thoughts of mortality will do that I suppose.

In regards to the mortality, my grandmother's deterioration just seems to slowly get worse. Though there in body, she's not in mind. And so all you see and spend time with is the shell. In any case, it's forced me to face the fact that one never knows if the last time you see a person will be the last. I think about how I would like to spend that moment, if it were the last. What impression would I want to take away or leave?

I choose to bask in the blessings, to consciously choose to love and be love, to be grateful and speak of my appreciation. I do not want the drama or to be caught in a web. I offer my love, and I choose love, with the realization that not all are accepting of this love and that some may abuse my intentions. And in that case, I know that I need to let go, and let them be. And that's okay.

What does my heart speak? My heart speaks of love, appreciation, and gratitude. My intention is love, appreciation, and gratitude.

To my love

I am married to a most amazing man. I don't celebrate this one day a year, but, today being what it is, it's the perfect reason to make sure he knows it.

My husband is a wonderful cook, and cooks most of the meals in our home. On occasion, I help out or even cook a whole meal, but most of the time - it's him. When I start to get cranky, and he knows I need some "me" time, he'll encourage me to get off the computer and do something for myself. If I'm having a challenging day, he'll take over care for Pook so I can get things done. He helps me when I get into a decluttering frenzy, and has even been encourage to do it on his own.

He's a snuggler (although these days we've got to fit it in where we can, because our Pook is one too, and doesn't like to be left out!). He's creative. He's my best friend. I can tell him about everything and anything. And when I feel I can't, I usually end up talking to him about it anyway. I can be completely open with him, put my heart right out there, completely let go and be me - and he embraces it all (sometimes with a little smile). He loves me completely for me, and that is such a gift.

We are up front with one another and our feelings. He's not afraid to tell me No, or that he doesn't want to do something. We don't "force" one another into uncomfortable compromises. We put our cards on the table, clean up the mess if one is made, and move on. If I need him to be sensitive, I let him know. If he needs to come out and tell me something that I might get hurt feelers about, he'll check with me (or at least give me a heads up!). Never, have I been able to communicate so well with someone.

There are so many wonderful things about our relationship, but one thing over the past few weeks that I've come to appreciate more than anything, is the level of trust we have for one another. I know he loves me, and I love him. We want to be together, and that's all there is to it. We take our marriage vows seriously, and therefore know we need to work through things instead of playing games or pulling the "silent treatment" card. I want to grow old with him, hold hands on long walks, be mother to at least another child of ours, and play with grandbabies (if that's what our kiddos decide).

I adore my hubby. We still have that occasional argument. We still get angry with one another or in general. But we've an unwritten rule to treat one another with respect and love at all times. We are very considerate of each other's feelings. I know that he needs his cave time, just as I need mine, and we do our best to see each gets it.

My husband and I don't go out of our way to celebrate this day. In the past, we've exchanged cards; I think twice I created a trail of hearts for him to follow on a treasure hunt of sorts. We don't do the flowers (for the set reason that the prices are jacked up) because of this day (although he has surprised me before), but sometimes I get them after if we find a good deal. Luckily for him, I'm not into jewelery, and if I am, he knows it's best to let me pick it. (I've got a very hard-to-define taste, and sometimes just go by the way it makes me feel.)

Though I don't like all the commercialism, I do like the fact that one day a year Love (albeight in its commercialized form) is celebrated.
So my love, Happy Valentine's Day. I love you.

Interested in the history of St. Valentine's Day?

Yup... winter is here.

Might provide pics for everyone later. But for now, there is snow. Though the grass still peeks through, the powdery white goodness is on the roof, the ground, and all around. Yay - it is winter!

And, hubby's home today.

Unfortunately, hubby's home, because I'm in bed. Yup, typing to my bloggity readers, while longingly looking out the window, ignoring the overall achiness of my body, and blowing my nose on occasion.

The good news is, my awesomely wonderful and marvelously great hubby is making lunch, and has been taking sweet care of me today. He's also been taking time to play with sweet lil Pook, who is SO excited! (Especially because Momma was a lump on the log yesterday, and has been praising the wonders of Tylenol - yes, I'm even taking TYLENOL! with my herbal tea goodness.)

I am so in love with this man... and he continues to amaze me each and every day.

Sweetie - you are the best.

Basking in Love

This morning, my heart is open, love pouring forth. I am blissfully happy and content.

I realized, for the first time (ever I think, save for those years as a child this might've applied!) I do not want. Yes, there are things I'd like, but I don't NEED them, nor do I have that incomplete feeling when I think about them.

I have all I need:
- A wonderful, amazing, loving husband, who understands me and my quirkiness, yet embraces me anyway.

- A sweet, angelic child who knows just when her kisses are needed, and takes my face into her hands to do so.

- A place to call home, that's cozy and warm, and filled with happy memories.

- Family and friends who are absolutely amazing, wonderful, and marvelous gifts in my life.

- A sense of happiness, a heart overflowing with love, and the ability to be aware of my life blessings.

Aho!

Happy Winter!

Well, it's officially Winter. Happy Solistice!

I'm starting to realize, that this past week things have been surfacing, manifested in familial grumpiness all around. Pook's been acting out, demanding all sorts of attention. I feel I've been neglecting her, as I scurry about making sure gifts are wrapped and packed, cleaning is done, laundry completed, playdates kept... and even my darling hubby's given into the grumpiness.

I've been snippy (doesn't help where I am at cyclewise either), impatient, snappy, and not very Christmassy the last few days. It bothers me that I'm at that point where I am looking forward to it all being over and done with.

So this morning, in the quiet of the darkness, I am taking time to look into my heart and dig up the joy that I know that's there. This Christmas, I'll get to see my sweet nephew on Christmas morning and open gifts with him and my family, just like old times - and I'm estatic! Especially because I don't know when I'll have this opportunity again.

My mother loves Christmas. I don't know if they'll have the Marth Stewartish tree this year, due to my sweet nephew, but I don't care. I love my ILs, but they just don't savor or celebrate the holidays, even birthdays, like we do.

I was raised to celebrate life each moment that it presents. Each holiday, when I was able to attend the familial functions on a consistent basis, I always remember that feeling of celebration, FAMILY, and laughter. There were always lots of hugs, grandma kisses, good food, and a general atmostphere that you were loved.

My ILs aren't very huggy-feely people, though they've gotten moreso since the pook. And my DMIL, comes from a culture where displays of affection are frowned on. So, there is always a coldness there, that isn't with my family. I understand and accept it, but I still feel uncomfortable around it.

Mind you, each family has it's own issues at times! And each family has points that I appreciate. But I love the feeling of love, the hugs... regardless of the underlying issues, there is always that love. And this year, I'm going to bask in it full force!

Holidays over the years

After responding to Stacie's comment on my last post, I got to thinking about how I used to percieve and celebrate Christmas (and general holidays) versus how I celebrate them now.

For one thing, I'd stock up on sales and gifts throughout the year. Then, I'd forget about said gifts when it came time for the holiday, only to find it a week later when restocking on more things I got on sale for the next year. Mind you, some of these things I just bought on sale, regardless of whether or not the gift recipient might like them. And did I mention, I'd give some sort of gift to every friend or acquaintence I knew?

Then, I'd always think that I needed to add to my decor every year. You know, build it up. Regardless of whether or not I had too much stuff, or if I needed it or not.

When we got married, and my sweet hubby counted that I was planning on getting and giving over 60 some gifts to people, he gave me this "we need to talk" look. We then had a really long talk. I'm blessed with a wonderful hubby, who really gets me to think about things. (And visa versa I hope...) Was it really necessary to give to all these people? (Some of whom I hadn't seen in ages, or years.) Were these people going to appreciate the gifts I'd gotten, or would then end up regifted or given away? Did I have the time to put these things together? Etc. Etc.

The first year, we bought a tree (hub's allergic to the real deal), our own beautiful angel to top it, stockings to hang, and a few greens and things to go around the house. We'd owned our own house now, so there was more to decorate. However, I also inherited an entire box of ornaments, knick-knacks, and other things from my mom's house when we moved.

We put out all the decorations. The next year, there we still decorations in the box, yet, I'd managed to buy more. Thankfully, the gift list had been cut in half, and after calculating how much we had spent for everything, I began to cut it it down again for the next year.

Now, five years later, we have all the decor we need. (Although, there are always a few things I keep on the lookout for - like embroidered hand towels for the kitchen and bath.) We only exchange gifts with immediate family, and a few friends (as opposed to all), and have made other agreements with friends. (Instead of a physical gift, we just get together to spend time together.) Some people get baked goods, some get bought goods, and this year, I'm excited because we're giving a gift that keeps giving to others http://www.heifer.org/ .

I also really think about the gifts I want to give. This has been most prevalent in the last year or so. I try to keep them clutter free (unless it's something I'm sure they'll like and use or keep). If I'm baking, I'll do a bread for some, and I do have special cookie requests I give into each year. I also try to get all gifts ordered and taken care of by early November.

The day after Thanksgiving, the Christmas decor goes up, so I like to be finished with most stuff by then so that we can just kick back and enjoy December. Though I used to enjoy waiting until the mauls... er malls... we decorated in their seasonal glory, now, it's nice to just go and enjoy, without rushing around madly to find certain things.

Sometimes I wonder how my changes will effect our children. I hope in a good way. I learned my habits from my mom, and with the help of my beloved hubby, I've found what works best for me, and for us.

So, hubby, thank you. Thank you for being you, and thank you for encouraging me to be me, and helping me find the simplicity I've been seeking. Granted, I know there are times you'd rather not do gifts at all, but I also know that you know how important it is for me to give something during this time.

Remembrances

I remember the first sting of a sly comment made from a guy I was intrigued by (J). We'd exchanged emails in college, a story we wrote together, each one of us adding to it. It was an outlet for me to vent my frustration with adventure, romance, and beauty. I remember believing that he liked me, based on a comment made by an ill-willed "friend". I remember him being aloft and cold, not very handsome, but, I enjoyed his writing, and writing with him.

I remember sitting on the couch, a male friend of mine visiting me at my mom's house (T), and he was dating a female friend of mine (C). We were sitting around chatting, I was already feeling a bit down, when he made some comment along the lines of have fascinating conversations with my friend (who mind you, is very intelligent), and then came the cutting line in regards to "so much better than mere stories".

My ego was quite bruised by this remark, and I didn' understand why he felt this need to be so cutting to me. I blinked back the tears, and even T looked at him like he was a moron for saying something so mean. And T didn't even know of my love for stories. Then again, I apparently had a knack for ticking people off, and not even knowing it, but that's another avenue.

The funny thing is, that I married a man filled with stories. One of the things that drew me in where those stories. An intelligent conversation can be very stimulating, I suppose, I'm not sure what he meant by that, or what J and C talked about even. I just enjoyed pretending that I was the main character, following her on her journey, filling her with my desires to love and be loved, and experience adventure along the way. It was an outlet for creativity and other things.

Marrying my story man has made life interesting, because he doesn't like that I want to change the bad guys to good, or see a glimmer of good in them. He particularly hates it when I created a female character who's beautiful and radiant, and wants nothing more than romance. This was what I craved in the beginning, driving him nuts no less.

However, now, my characters have evolved. They aren't radiant beauties getting themselves into romantic situations (although I bet Harlequin might love a few of those!). Now, they might be dealing with a complicated issue, death, or the desire to be enlightened. They no longer long, or look for romance, they just take the journey, and see where it leads.

As for J, I don't know what happened to him, though, like many who've been in my life, the thought crosses my mind. I wonder if his intelligence led him to finding a woman (or man) that could meet him on the level he was seeking. I hope he did, and that it brought him joy. I know that finding and connecting with my beloved, has brought me all the joy, and so much more.

To my Beloved

I wanted to take a moment to let you know how appreciative I am of you. You sacrificed your Father's day, to strip a door that I messed up painting. You spend your four day vacation interspersed with computers, movies, and taking care of me and Pook. Even though it caused you frustration, you helped to do home projects this weekend, because it's what I asked for on my birthday. You wrapped my gifts, sang to me, changed diapers, made your special burgers...

My heart is filled with joy and gratitude for your presence in my life. I recognize it's been challenging for you, which makes it all the more special to me. I am so blessed to have you as my partner, my love... you are awesome (and great!).

So thank you my sweet, for all that you do and for your care.

I love you.

Feelings on Friday

I sit here, propped up in bed, laptop in front, and a wonderful view of my neighbors' trash. Pook is in the other room with the sitter, and I'm gearing myself up for a day of work. Ah... yeah, work.

I did want to make a few nods to some gorgeous farmer's market photos that Phil took. The flowers are especially gorgeous. I've come to adore the sunflowers surrounded with wild flowers. Ah... nothing beats fresh flowers from a farmer's market, EXCEPT for tender daisies picked especially for me by my sweet Pook-a-boo-k. :) They, are by far the best. Aside from the flowers, her look of pride is the best.

I also found myself moved by yet another of Ed's posts in regards to his 3 year wedding anniversay. I think what got me the most, was the last picture at the end and the comment of "My life for the past three years". The picture of the bride and groom about to kiss, is so tender, yet there's a hint of passion, smiles, a stuffed dog :), and lots of love. I wish you many, many more years of that. (And Stacie, I wish that for you and Bob, as your journey is just beginning!)

One thing I've always admired about Ed, is his knack for wit and humor, and the way he interweaves them through his prose. Ed, if you read this, your posts always really get me thinking about things, in a good way. Thanks. They prettymuch always leave me with a good feeling. To see someone enjoy life as he does, and to live a life bespeckled with humor is just lovely.

It got me thinking about my own wedding and life with Da Hub. I admit, that marriage has been most interesting for Da Hub and I. Especially because I don't think we knew what we were getting into at the time. We have since learned that we are very different individuals, and it's been fun working with our differences. Also, we've been blessed with all types of interesting challenges throughout, that have really helped us to grow as a couple and individually.

There's a picture from our wedding, (and if I knew where it was, I'd post it) where we are sticking our tongues out at each other. Yup, I think that would describe the last five years of our life together. :)

Many times, I think of our marriage as a fine wine. Each year, things just get better as we grow as individuals, and as a couple. We have been through a lot, and were blessed to have started the journey as best friends. Da Hub is still the one I turn to first when I need to talk about something, or work through thoughts. He's my biggest supporter. I know he adores me (and not just because he's always telling me), but because he's always concerned for my welfare (more than I am sometimes). We tend to take things a bit seriously, but, we are gradually incorporating more play (less projects!) into our lives.

The next chapter of our journey together.

For those of you wondering how Saturday's vow renewals went (thanks so much for the lovely wishes), read on. And yes, there are pictures. Otherwise, you'll have to wait til the next post! :)

Saturday turned out to be a very interesting day. While it rained everywhere else in WV, it did not do so in out little corner of the earth. It was perfect weather for walking up the "hill" (aka mini-mountain), to visit three special places, the last of which would be where we'd renew our vows.

My handpicked bouquet of daisies, buttercups, and lillies of the valley.

The comparisons between this day, and 5 years ago were amazing. For one thing, my beloved had to cut his hair, or his mother threatened not to attend the wedding.

If you look at it now, it's much, much longer. He's currently pondering cutting it a might bit shorter (still long enough to tie back) to donate it to locks of love. At least, that's what he said he'd do the day after.

It's still long though. I'm fine with it either way, as I adore it long. I think it's quite sexy. ;)

Our first wedding consisted of a ton of people, a struggle because we "had" to invite people we didn't really want there - you know how familial politics go. At the time, we just wanted to please everyone. It was one huge party, followed by another party. There were LOTS of people. There were also a few dramatic incidents at the first one.

Though the first wedding did have a lot of "us" in it the first time around (people still talk about it), this one was all "us". Both weddings, however, were just right for the places where we were/are in our lives. This time around, we wore our hair as we pleased (he wore his tied back this time, and mine was loose). We created our own ceremonies and spoke from the heart. We spent it with 3 of our dearest friends.

We arrived in the afternoon, unloaded our stuff, and began to set up. Some things didn't work out as planned, but it was for the best. When we were ready, the men and the Pook went off to feed the chickens; the women headed up the hill to do our own thing. We smudged, we gave thanks, we spoke from the heart, we asked blessings upon the floral wreathes my one friend had ordered for us to wear in our hair, and we scattered rose petals to the winds. We thanked the mountain for letting us celebrate upong. When we were finished, we called the men with the drum.

You can imagine Pook's surprise as we greeted her with flowers in our hair, and her delight, when we donned her with her own wreath of flowers to wear. My one friend commented about how the first time it was I who came to hubby, and now, he was coming up to meet me.

The week before we wrote down things that we wanted to release, things to create, and what we wanted to transform in our relationship. We invited the others to write their own things down. Pook had even colored a few.

Fire is the element of transformation, creation, and passion. We then honored the fire with our offerings. The fire responded by quickly lapping up our bits of paper. And as they burned, you could almost feel the burdens being lifted, and a change happening in each of us. It was a serene and tender moment for all.

Perhaps it was psychological, maybe it was magic. But it was a tender offering from us, a transformation we wanted to happen before we recommited to each other.

With that completed, our little caravan headed down the hill to music and drum to our third location. Pook had long decided that she would be carried around to each place by this point. She wouldn't be with anyone other then Daddy. (She'd already told him how cute he looked.)

Being surrounded by all the green was invigorating. There was something symbolic about the journey we were all on. I mean, that's what marriage and life are, aren't they?

A Journey.

Each person seemed to be pondering this, though there was chatter here and there, and laughter. Always a good thing.

The third location was extra sacred to me and the others. In it was the Grandfather Oak tree, who watched over the valley. Watching over Grandfather Oak, was the Happy Buddha.

The Happy Buddha is a statue who stands, or rather almost dances before the Oak. His smile is contagious, and that day, it was even more so. We gave him a flower for each hand, and let our precious flower girl scatter rose petals about him.
Yes, this is said flower girl, and Happy Buddha. Our precious little Pook looking very fairy-bohemain as she tenderly scattered each precious petal, before dumping the rest out of the basket.

We took a moment to play a song from our wedding, and describe the scene for our friends, whom we didn't know at the time of the first one.

Then, each one told us us what they wished for us.

Harmony, Gratitude and Playfulness, but the one that touched me most was Kindness. "There will be times when you won't feel like being kind to each other, but be kind anyway. Always be kind to each other and others. And teach your daughter kindness as well." -GH

We then stood before Grandfather Oak, holding a rose quartz heart (from our honeymoon) between our palms. Our one friend stepped forward, wrapping our hands in red ribbon. In Asian cultures, red reprents happiness, and is the traditional color worn by brides. She spoke from her heart blessings of love, joy, harmony, kindess, and a plethora of other things spoken so beautifully, my words don't do justice. Our other friend stepped forth with a ribbow of gold (I wore this in my hair for my 30th birthday bash) and more beautiful words.

And then, everyone put their hands on top of ours.

That moment, our dear friends witnessed our own heartfelt words to one another. Which, I don't remember because they were short and sweet, and everyone (save hubby and I, for our hands were tied and I held Pook in the other), began a game of "who's on top" seeing who's hand could get to the top and try to stay there. It was fun, and joyous. We had to take a picture of it.

Which, was funny, because last year, we ended up taking a spontaneous picture of our feet, while cooling them in a pail of water. Figured I'd place it hear for the full effect.

I think next time, we'll be going for the elbows. :)

After this, hubby and I shared a tender kiss. We then played our song, and began the descent back to the house, where we toasted with sangria (we didn't drink alcohol at our wedding, though we did after) and ate homeade bread.

For those who don't know, wine represents passion and creativity (to us anyway), and bread is the sustance. We toasted our dear friends who are both of these things to us. (Yes, we were all laughing at the Catholic connotations here.)

As with most receptions, one usually takes a picture of the tables. We had one very vibrantly decked out one.

We dinned on eggrolls, dumplings, and General Tso's chicken with rice. Nummy. Hubby and I danced to our song in the living room. (We made a CD for our friends with songs from our first wedding, songs that meant something to us, and songs that reminded us of them.)

And then, we all hung out side listening to the birds, breathing in the fresh mountain air and absorbing the green, before we came back in for hot tea, and to cut the cake. Our wedding cake was 4 tiers with sugared flowers. This cake was a 1 tier, homeade chocolate cake with a cream cheese icing that perfectly complemented it. And, real flowers decorated it instead of sugared ones.

Looking back, I can find symbolism and meaning in all of the day's events. But either way, I'm looking forward to another 5 years, and 5 years after that, and 5 years after that, and... (you get the picture) with my mate, my beloved hubby.

We've been through a lot in 5 years. Neither of us are the same people who started on this journey. Sometimes I look back and laugh at my expectations for both our wedding day, and the marriage.

And I don't know what the next 5 will bring. Although, the fairy card we drew when we got home was the vacation card. I can deal with a 5 year vacation. What I do know, is that I want to spend them with him. Weekend mornings of spooning until the Pook comes in, tender kisses, the greatest hugs (he's got a reputation for excellent hugs), late night chats, snuggling during the movies, and the tender excitement he gets when he's able to get me a surprise. What can I say? I love him...

5 years as husband and wife

And so it's on to the next chapter of our story.

"Caught by the moonlight,
a silent mist a shimmer in the trees,
oh what a night for dreams,
a night for destiny.

Others are sleeping,
so unaware of magik in the air..."

5 years ago...

Five years ago today, I woke up early in the morning, to a superb breakfast fixed by my mother, and joined by some of my dearest girl friends. We got our hair styled, put on makeup, I found a brief few minutes to write in a journal, then we were off. We caravaned to our location, scouted out the area, and made our way into the huge dressing room, where we donned our dresses and dancing slippers. Two girls stood watch outside the door, one "enforced" and handled all the bad news, while we waited for the bouquets to arrive and posed for pictures.

I had a few brief, but powerful moments with my mother, who stood at the door teary-eyed, admiring her daughter, dressed in a white gown, embroidered with white flowers. When it was my father's turn, he stood speechless before me. I can only imagine him comparing the woman before him, to the little girl he once held in his arms.

The months of planning, stress of figuring out what would fit in our tight budget, how many people we could invite (anger at those we "had" to invite but didn't want to), and all other negatives seemed to melt away in the folds of my gown.

Once the hubby-to-be was safely out of sight, I emerged for a few pictures before the ceremony to the "ahs and ohs" of those already seated. I felt like a beautiful fairy queen, surrounded by her ladies in waiting, emerging from her own private world into this one.

Then, it was time to go back in the room and wait until we got the okat to come out. I hadn't seen my love yet that morning, though I talked to him on the phone. Ours was one of those relationships where we'd become dear friends, who found out they were in love with each other. (Okay, so he did know way before I did... I was a little slow and very gunshy about love.)

I remember standing at the door, waiting to go outside. One by one my ladies-in-waiting/bridesmaids walked out into the sun to the music. I joked with my dad about envisioning the two of us being on a fishing trip, and how many fish we'd caught. He was nervous, and emotional. I remained strangely calm, and peaceful. Two ladies stayed behind to carry the train I hadn't planned on, but that was so perfect with it's white embroidered garden.

Then, there it was, that music that created the image of someone coming out of the morning mists into view. I stepped into the light, my arms on my father's, and his tears began to flow. Having a daughter of my own now, I can empathisize with him more so. We stepped forth, and I finally caught the view of the man who would soon be my husband. He too was dressed in white. I was glad we'd waited to see one another.

The ceremony was a blur, I barely remember the vows we spoke. It was just me and him, looking at one another. We exchanged rings, we kissed, and that fast, we were married. Then, we took more pictures, and lined up to enter the ballroom. There was food, dancing, laughing, dancing, dancing, cake, and more dancing. We danced until the last possible moment, went to get changed, then we were off to another party.

The next morning, our first together as a husband and wife, we held each other tenderly - with no clue as to what was in store.

Our first year was wrought with a few unexpected challenges, that provided us with growth and many lessons. Our second year was interesting as we made friends andprepared for impending parenthood. Our third year, we celebrated holding and feeding a tiny little angel in our arms. The next two years held more challenges, surprises, and lessons. And now, here we are today, celebrating our fifth year as husband and wife.

Looking back, I don't think I fully understood what marriage entailed or was, other than the next step in a relationship. I've always been fond of stories, and somehow bought into the "fairy tale" image. Which, if you knew my parents (now divorced), you'd think I'd know better. I'm not sure what I expected exactly, but I quickly learned, that I needed to change my expectations and embrace acceptance, or we were going to have problems.

When we got married, I quickly learned just how different my hubby was. He needed time alone; I was more social. He needed time alone; I wanted to do everything with him. I wanted things done my way - usually right now; he didn't feel that it was that urgent. I expected a lot from him that first year, and he still here.

Life has its own rhythm. There are days when you are right on target, feeling great, and lots of energy. Then, there are those days where your motivation has run off with energy. There's a rhythm to life, to the seasons... it's in everything - especially marriage.

For those of you who aren't married, and those who are, the best advice I ever got about being married, was to learn the rhythm of the relationship, and recognize it always moves and changes. There will be times when you are both so connected, you will amaze yourselves. There will be times when you need to be alone, times to be together, times when one wants one thing, and the other another. There will be times when you are not very pleased with your spouse, and other times, when you are blown away by their charm and love. There are times when you might feel disconnected; but you can always reconnect. Relationships blossom when you nuture them.

Over the past 5 years, we've really grown as a team, as a couple, as parents, and as individuals. So, we wanted to celebrate this anniversary in a way that was special to us, and that involved renewing our vows, recommiting to marriage (and what we've learned about it), only this time on our terms. We are still learning, still growning, and still investing in our marriage and family.

This last week, we've been preparing for a quiet ceremony of our own on the side of our friend's mountain. There will only be 3 witnesses as opposed to a slew of bridesmaids and groomsmen. We'll be wearing jeans and hiking boots. Hubby's hair, that he had to cut for our wedding (or his mom threatened not to come), is now past his mid-back. We've got a flower girl. There are many other connections I've been making between now and then, but the big one for me, is that we are planning to recommit ourselves to each other, release expectations, fear, worries, and general things in our lives that have been "holding us back" or blocking our growth. The people there to witness it, are already wonderful support systems in our lives, and on very similar paths.

So dearest love, as I know you read this, Happy Anniversary to you. It's been challenging, wonderful, and amazing. I feel like each step we take together provides us with a chance to grow. And to me, that's what marriage is about. Growing, expereincing, learning... and doing it together.

I am so blessed to have a partner like you that I can talk to about everything and anything. I am so grateful for our ability to work through things, and learn from things; for your willingness to work with me to change perspectives, make changes, and live healthier lifestyles. I appreciate the respect that we have always had for one another, but especially how it's grown. I really have grown to love and honor you, etc. etc. I just didn't get it as well as I do now.

In the last 5 years, there is still nothing better than being in your arms, your hugs, those whispered hand kisses, your smile, those backrubs late at night when I know you are tired and would rather be sleeping, and that feeling of connectedness we share.

I love you.

Sweet Sunday Moments

Sleeping in amongst flannel sheets, rain's outdoor symphony against the bedroom window panes, I slowly opened my soft eyes to morning's light peeping in through my window, and the sound of pitter-pattering feet, followed by a happy sounding "hey!"

Sitting on the couch, caught up in the laughter of Da Hub falling off the couch and landing on Dora's "Backpack", only to end up erupting in one of those good, old-fashioned pillow fights (after we removed glasses), where you beat one another silly without maiming someone or something, and watching Pook grabbing a pillow and whacking Daddy with all the force her little body could muster.

That feeling of relief that only a good spout of laughter that takes you uncontrollably, shaking out all the stress, fear, and anything else you can't remember, as you hold your sides to catch your breath, and smile.

Snuggling in hubby's arms while Pook plays amongst us, eventually working her way over, so that all 3 of us end up spooning in the middle of the living room floor, basking in that sporadic feeling of family love and gratitude.

The soft voices of hubby and pook singing "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star".

Pook holding my head in between her soft little hands, telling me that she loves her Mommy, while my heart melts, and she falls into my arms for a full blown Mommy-daughter hug.

Ah... these are the mornings that fill me with bliss.

Serenity

It is for the first time, in a very long time I have gone through the day feeling serene. I still have the same amount of work, I even slept in this morning. But some how, today I found myself feeling much more free and more energetic. Instead of fretting about how I can simplify my life, waht I need to change in my life to make it better, or if I can declutter something, or how I can create more time in the day, I just went through my day.

Step, by baby step, I made it through a day, that would've normally stressed me out because I wasn't following the "normal" routine. Do you know what? Work wasn't overwhelming - it was just work, that would get done when it got done. Instead of striving to get ahead, I did what I could, and it was enough.

Today, I was invited to the Pook's "house" I found time to turn her kiddie bed into a house with a blue sheet, and she invited me in for snuggles and a chat. Instead of feeling guilty, I climbed in and held her, noting her sweet scent and soft skim, and how adorable she is when she snuggles against me, pressing our cheeks together, and closing her eyes to really feel it.

We watched the sun drift through the window, and noted the signs of spring outside, while "Sheepy 1" and "Sheepy 2" had conversations under the sea of blue. Later we made houses with her book blocks, and dipped turkey hot dogs into ketchup and mustard, and ate "cheddar bunnies" (crackers). She sat in my lap for snuggles as I worked, and didn't ask for the TV at all today. She was happy playing in her room and singing.

I "cooked" tonight. It was a simple pizza in the oven (usually, when I cook it's take out), and while I was waiting, I focused on cleaning some well-needed areas. And you know what? I'd have thought I was doing a sacred meditation, as I fell into a calming rhythm, with benefit of a clean kitchen at the end.

It's been an etherial day today, and, I'm sure I could waste energy wondering why I didn't notice my wasting of energy before, but it's just not worth it; I've no desire to go there. Today, I'm feeling all those things I've wanted to, but thought I had to follow a path I hadn't even set, and wasn't even sure of, as it was based on other's ways.

I listen as my husband and daughter serenade me from the "big bed" with the song of "Winnie the Pooh" from the bedroom, and my heart is singing. THIS is life, and I'm in the midst of living it.