Divined by the universe....

Last week marked the day ten years ago that I was a senior sitting in my High School journalism class. I had completed my assignments, was doodling on my notepad and the ADD was kicking in. Bored, I asked my brilliant journalism teacher, Mrs. Baxley, if I could go to the bathroom. In our High School, the closest bathrooms are next to the weight room. This seems like an insignificant detail, but it is crucial.

You see, Chris was in weights class that fateful day, and they were timing 20 yard sprints in the hallway- by the very bathroom I was wasting time in! Timing the sprints was a 2 man job, and a clipboard was shoved in my hand to write down the sprint times (actually I was standing there talking and was told to get back to class, or make myself useful).  Chris, being the stud he is, was on track to break the record (which he still holds- no big deal) and stayed after the bell rang to make the record  his own. I stayed to write down his time.

On my way to return the clipboard (and Chris' return to the locker room), an innocent conversation took place that would have lasting consequences, for both of us:

Me: So. Do you have a date for prom yet?
Chris: No, not yet. What about you?
Me: Nope.
Chris: Uh...Do....you...wanna....go....?
Me: Sure!

Ten years ago today, Chris and I went on our last first date, and have been partyin' ever since....

Isn't he handsome!?

God bless Senioritis...and ADD.....and sprints in the hallway...

and Mrs. Baxley for letting me go to the bathroom....

Take notes, boys:

You might not know this about me, but I love to read.  I'll read anything. Sometimes when I'm in the bathroom (and realize I might be in there for awhile), I read the back of the shampoo/conditioner/soap/face soap bottles. I have shelves full of books; boxes in the garage, full of books; books in drawers; under my bed, and even in my car.  I consider my books as friends, "Oh I read that during my 'Van Gogh' phase in college, I can't get rid of it!" I blame my dad, he's a worse book hoarder than me.

Hoarding is such an ugly word, let's just say I'm an avid collector.

 I'm a sucker for surprises. I love opening an old purse, and finding a necklace I forgot about; or finding a candy bar in the jacket I haven't worn since the PREVIOUS winter....yeah, I totally ate it.

That sad/gross story being told, my point is I like to leave whatever piece of paper I'm using as a book mark, in the book- like a surprise for later. I've found shopping lists, old drawings, a note from my deceased cousin Katy saying hi, etc. I open each book to find something I completely forgot about.

 I was supposed to be cleaning, when I stumbled upon the photo guest book from our wedding; and I started feeling nostalgic. I opened it up and 3 letters fell out of it. These were no ordinary letters, but old love letters from Chris I put in there for safe keeping.

Take notes boys, because this is how it's done:

When you need to apologize for being rude (as a 20 year old boyfriend): 
"I am sorry that I am not the most nice and caring boyfriend ever, but I love you so much and I want to be with you forever. I know I am sometimes grouchy and a little mean,  but it is just a mood I get into. It doesn't mean you did anything, or I am not happy with our relationship. As long as you want to be my girlfriend I am happy. I love you so much, and I feel so lucky to have you as mine."

When you want to encourage (as a 24 year old fiance): 
"First of all, I really admire you and how you continually search for things to make you happy. I know you're not perfect, but in my eyes you are- so I don't always see the things you need help with. I want to be there for you, and provide you with all the help you need and more. I think you are absolutely wonderful in every aspect of life (except maybe math because you don't try).''

When you want to make sure she knows you think she's pretty: 
You have no idea just how beautiful and sexy you are. I know you struggle with certain parts of your appearance and I should do a better job of making sure you know how I feel about you, but seriously you are smokin' hott! And yes, that is hot with 2 t's.


When you want her to know you'll be with her forever (as a 27 year old husband): 
I am so happy with our life, and I hope you know that you are the reason. You are such a wonderful person, and you have made me a much better person. I love you so much, and all I want to do is spend the rest of my life with the woman I love.

Your husband and best friend,
Chris

I just realized I've got to go; I've got a LOT of books to look through today.....

Decorating 101

In the fall of 2010 I felt inspired and created my very own "picture wall" in our living room. Here is a picture of the famous wall: 

 -sorry for the blurriness my skills are a bit lacking in the professional iphone photography department, but you get the idea.

I really LOVE decorating/re-decorating my house. It must be some kind of  'control issue' thing, because anytime I'm having a bad week or am sad, I come home and immediately start re-arranging.

-This trend started when I was in jr. high, my parents would try to come in my room only to find the door blocked by my half-moved bed and me trapped in the corner by my huge half-moved dresser saying: "I don't know how this happened!?"

I recently decided to our walls were tired of being "davenport brown", and they definitely wanted to be "atmospheric blue"-so I took all the pictures down, and painted the walls a beautiful shade of blue that made me sing.

And boy, let me tell ya, Chris just jumped at the chance to help me re-hang all the pictures:

Hey you! You're not sleeping! Can you please help me? Please? Please?*bats eyelashes*

There really isn't that many....honest! Why won't you help me!?

That is a lie by the way, these poor pictures were laying on the floor, moved to the table, moved to the counter, and moved back to the floor for MONTHS, waiting for me to put them in their proper place: gloriously displayed on the wall.

Chris, finally fed-up, said: "I'm sick of these pictures being everywhere, do you want me to help you hang them?" I could tell you that was my plan all along, but I don't want to lie to you twice in one post.

So Chris got to work hanging pictures, and I got to work telling him the exact location (longitude and latitude) of where they belong, he was a very good sport:

"You really think this needs to be moved up a centimeter more? OK crazy lady!"

After a few tears, one fight, many 'have you lost your mind?' looks, and hundreds of holes in the wall later, we finished.

Are you ready for the GRAND unveiling!? 

TA-DA!!

You know, now that I'm looking at this, I think the walls are telling me they really want to be "heather blonde"......

Notes:

Ok. Here's the thing, have you seen this picture? Women seriously lost their minds over the idea of 'fun spontaneity' with their spouse:

The caption of this said: "I plan on being a really fun wife."

Every time I saw this stupid picture (which seemed to be EVERYWHERE), I wanted (still do) to point out:

1) Her 7th grade grammar error

B) The fact that she says: 'Two things' and then goes on to list 3 things

3) This dude just got off of work- give the poor guy a beer and let him watch Sports Center for 30 minutes before you try to be cute and attack him with Nerf darts....

Maybe it's the tomboy in me that thinks: 'Oh sweet, silly, naive lady.... how in the hell are you going to have a proper Nerf gun war IN YOUR HOUSE? You wait until dark, wear some black clothing, hide behind a car and sniper that ass, Call of Duty style, while yelling: "TAKE NO PRISONERS!"'  

Maybe I should take a page out of this person's note writing book because these are the kinds of notes I leave MY husband: 

The John Wayne magnet makes it that much more motivating....

and this is TOTALLY the kind of note I'll leave when I'm a mom....

HAPPY FRIDAY!

Way back when 3...baseball edition.

When I was just starting to date Chris in high school, it was during the football season. I don't know if you know this, but our town is NUTS for high school football. Being raised in a basketball family, I didn't really care about football. All I knew is I LOOOVED those powder blue pants....

This is Chris scoring a touchdown..

Oh hello blue pants! Thank you for being invented.

My dad even told me this joke when I was in High School: Girls who like baseball enjoy the strategy of the game, and the skill of hitting a tiny round ball with a round bat. Girls who like football-Oh look at those pants!! <---Totally me 10 years ago. 

If I was apathetic about football I REALLY didn't like baseball. I would venture to say I hated it. So it's fitting that I would marry a baseball player, now baseball coach. 

For the first six years of our relationship, I was constantly dealing with my arch nemesis: baseball. Baseball took Chris away for 5 out of 6 of my birthdays, every summer, and most weekends in the Spring. I never complained (ok I complained, but minimally) and I went to all of his home games to show my support. 

Me and one of my besties not letting a little rain stop us from cheering Chris on. 

Baseball officially took over my life. Even my little brother, Andrew, was playing it like crazy: 

This kid now TOWERS over me, and is a pretty awesome player himself.

I basically knew NOTHING about baseball, and had to learn it all on the fly. I first learned to love the player-then I learned to love the game they love so much. I then discovered that baseball players are a special breed.

I think since baseball is SUCH an intense thinking sport (I mean, really, if you only hit 3 out of 10 times, you are considered successful...say what?!) when the boys are off the field, they really like to relax. They NEED to relax.

Baseball players MIGHT be the funniest people on the planet. If you get to play a boy's game as a man- you're probably going to be a little goofy. Not to mention all the time spent together in the dugout. You learn to entertain yourself: 

This is Chris' college team running a football play before the game, see what I mean?

Secondly I learned to appreciate the baseball tan:

Note the perfect jersey outline. Sexy...kinda!

A baseball tan represents athleticism, dedication and commitment. You play a game that requires you to catch and hit a ball...outside...rain or shine.....during the coldest and hottest months of the year...you gotta have commitment to put up with that crap.

I learned that baseball takes brains and brawn:

Ouchtown, population: Chris

Finally, I learned these guys are fiercely loyal to each other, and you have a friend for life:

Taken circa 2004 and we're still friends with these idiots.

As our months together turned to years, I ultimately transitioned into a GIANT fan of baseball. I had the unique advantage of seeing inside the warped mind of a player, and came to understand this special game and what it represents. 

Truthfully, I'm grateful Chris played so much baseball. I credit all those late night phone calls and time away to a lot of our success. We learned to communicate clearly and honestly, together.   

I think we both knew to get to this:

and this,

Chris coaching last Spring

We had to first, be this:

and this,

 

 

And the baseball pants didn't hurt, either:

Way back when 2

I think anytime someone is in a relationship at the ages of 18-19 there is bound to be some drama. On top hormones, stress of school and family obligations you're cruising through waters of uncharted territory where the deep sea creatures 'Jealousy' and 'Insecurity' threaten to overtake you at every turn.

MOTHER OF GOD. WHAT IS THAT?!

LOOK OUT! Jealousy is about to make you do something WAY stupid!

 Remember, dear reader,  the first two years of mine and Chris' relationship were 'long distance.' We went to separate colleges, and saw each other only on the weekends. This was the time of no facebook, blogger, or even myspace. We only communicated via phone and email (*gasp* Oh the horror! The inhumanity of it all!). Actually this is a good thing because, let's face it, if Chris had a facebook page I totally would have stalked him constantly, and questioned his every 'friend acceptance.'

 Chris and I were not immune to petty arguments early in our relationship. I recall, all too well, storming out of a party and sitting across the street at the post office waiting for a ride, all the while being a huge baby and refusing to go back into the party--I think I even folded my arms across my chest and huffed a "NO!" (I made that sentence mauve to represent my embarrassment and shame at my extreme dramatics). 

Either I was too flirty with someone else, or he wasn't paying me enough attention.The problem was (and is) we're both extremely passionate people, sprinkle in some stubbornness and add a dash of audacity and you've got a lethal combination.....All we knew was we had something special and neither of us was going anywhere anytime soon.

I mean, really, look at the guy: would you?!

That Elvis lip KILLS me!   I should add that his sweet hair-doo is achieved through tubing all day at the lake. YOU might be able to achieve it if you stick your wet head out the car window while driving at high speeds.... Although, I don't really recommend it.

Since I got to make Chris look goofy last Monday with his odd love proclamation, I now hold the mirror up to myself......

At a party, freshman year of college. I sneakily looked through Chris' phone contacts and found the name: "Anna." I'm sure you can imagine my extreme panic and anger at the sight of this foreign name in his phone (The guy just told me he "loved me....maybe" about 2 months before).  
 Who was this floozy Anna? What sleazy bar did they meet at? What kind of nefarious activities were they taking part in? How long was this going on? WHAT A JERK!


So I did what any smart, capable, clever, mature 18 year old woman would do: I refused to talk to him with no explanation as to my sudden mood change.

I decided I needed to get out of there and walk to a friends house down the road with another gal pal when Chris yelled at me walking down the street:

 "JESSICA! WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!"

"DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT!"
"WHAT?!"
"DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT! GO CALL ANNA!"
"WHO?"

"ANNA! GO CALL ANNA!"

"AMANDA?! MY SISTER?!"
at this point I turned around and keep walking, while mumbling: "Yeah go call your sister, ya big idiot."
and I hear him get asked: "what is she doing?" to which Chris responds: "I don't know. She's lost her damn mind."

Finally, an hour or so later, I cool off, my hormones subside and my brain finally turns on and I say to Chris:
"Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course, baby"

"Whose Anna?"
"Anna? You mean my Aunt Anna  from Kansas City?"
"uhhhh......" 

At that point the only thing that could sum up my extreme embarrassment and shame is this pup: 

I'm Sowee!!

 That day I learned my lesson: If you ever go through your boyfriend's phone (or email, or facebook) and see an unfamiliar name, don't panic yet.....

The fabulous Anna with my equally fabulous sister-in-law, Amanda.

.... and do a bit more detective work before you freakout- after all it's probably just "Aunt Anna" :

Way back when.....

Chris and I will be celebrating 3 years of wedded bliss in a little over a month. This April we will have been together for TEN years-- I'm not that old, right?!

Who are those dashing and charming youngsters? Our prom, senior year.

 Chris tells me we met Freshman year of High School in English class, but I have no recollection of this and I. REMEMBER. EVERYTHING. (Let that be a warning to you....). Even though we knew of each other in High School and started 'dating' our senior year, we consider ourselves "college sweethearts." It's kind of fun growing up with someone, realizing you're best friends, then get married and still like each other.

*sigh. What a sweet picture....does my mouth look HUGE to anyone else?

 One night, after 4 months of dating, I casually asked Chris:

"Do you have any juicy secrets?" (If you know me well, then you know this question was not a ploy for attention but I really wanted to know if he did have any secrets).

"Uhhhh...No..... Well one, I guess. "

 "Oooooo!! You do?! Ok what is it?"

 "I think........I love you.......maybe."  (Who says "I love you" followed by a maybe?!)

 "*Scoff* WELL I LOVE YOU! I don't even have to add a maybe!"

"I do love you! I do! I just didn't know what you were going to say."

 And that, ladies and gentleman, was the start of this crazy ride. In honor of young love, I am posting my very first and very sweet love letter from Chris. He was about to leave for the summer to play baseball in Waterloo, Iowa and I was not very happy:  
 *And remember this is written by an 18 year old who has much better grammar/writing skills now*

Jessica,
Hey baby I love you and I already miss you. You are the only one that I have truly loved. I know you always ask me why I love you and I don't really have an answer, but I will try to explain. I realized after the first time we dated that you were special because I missed you a lot. I know I was a different person then but I still had a good heart. I then realized during last summer that you were a good girlfriend because you put up with me not calling you all the time and wanting to hang out with my friends. Once I really look at you and watch what you do I know there is no one else that can compare to you. You are one of the nicest people I have ever met, you are so outgoing which is the opposite from me so I think that is wonderful. I also feel like I do not and will not ever know anyone the way I know you.
This is probably going to be the hardest thing I have ever done. There are many reasons why this will be difficut, but you are the biggest. It wil be tough being away from my family but I have been away from them for at least a month before, and it wasn't that bad. Friends are another thing that will be hard to part from but that will probably be the easiest to get along without. You are the other hand. I know I will be lost without you. I haven't been a week without seeing you, so you are definitely the hardest thing I will have to part with.
Every time I look into your eyes I wish it was a few years later and we could be together everyday. I love you because you let me be who I am and I don't have to impress you. I also love kissing you, it could very well be my favorite thing to do. I can't really explain why I love you, but I do know that I feel it more than I could ever feel it with anyone. It also doesn't hurt that you are the most beautiful girl ever.
I know this letter is not very good, but I tried my best and I know it is good enough for you.  I will miss you more than I have ever missed anything. You are mine and you will be til the end. I hope you love this letter as much as I love you. I love you with all my heart.
Yours forever and always,
Chris

Why you should never leave home with your boxer unattended: a lesson learned twice.

I have three loves of my life. Well I take that back, I have many loves -Pizza, Super Mario brothers, painting, beer, old cars, beer, mexican food, facebook, beer, Spinach Artichoke dip...I'm beginning to see why a diet may be neccessary. Back to the issue at hand, my three true blue "never gonna give you up" loves:

This Guy. 

I said: THROW A SNOW BALL AT ME! so he started to and I said: NO NOT REALLY AT ME! OH MY GOD YOU'RE GOING TO KILL ME!!!

This little lady, Betty. 

Chris bought Betty for me when we were 22, after I begged and begged and begged for a dog. I didn't even know what a pom-poo was, but when I called the breeders about their ad in the paper the lady said: "They're so cute! They look just like little Teddy Bears!" Knowing that this was a no-brainer purchase, I immediately said: "SOLD!", and now I cannot go to the bathroom without her poking her head in to see what I'm doing...(Same thing I was doing last time I was in here, betty!)

And finally.........

this mongrel, Layla. 

Layla came into our lives about two years ago. She has the body of a deer, the speed of a cheetah, the attention span of a child with ADHD who forgets her medicine constantly and the curiosity of every cat that ever lived. She's pretty awesome though, and a good sport. For instance: 

                     She lets me dress her up in an elf costume whenever I feel like doing so.....

                        She does the required acrobatics to come inside JUST to amuse me......

      She's always down for a good time at the lake but, like a good girl, she INSISTS on safety first.

However I had NO idea that Layla hated beyond a shadow of a doubt two things: 

The first: apparently my watercolors, & a tube of gold acrylic paint. 

Who knew? Maybe the colors were taunting her about being a dog, and therefore ,colorblind....

"Red: Ya ya nice try ya doggy, but YOU don't know which one I yam!" I gave red a weird 40's gangster accent in my head for some reason. 

It IS possible that she isn't colorblind at all and just thought the paints were some kind of delicious doggy treat and it was her duty to discover if that was the truth or not..... OR betty tricked her into doing it. The inner workings of her mind shall forever remain a mystery to me.

The second thing she hates, we just discovered:

Fake Pumpkins from Michaels! In the words of my mom: "Who decides to take on a pumpkin?"

We got home to this and Chris tried to use his 'you're in big trouble voice' by saying: "Layla! Your mom got those pumpkins for a good deal at Michaels!"

Layla did show some shame and embarrassment. I was MUCH harsher on her: "YEAH LAYLA! I GOT THOSE FOR A GOOD DEAL YA JERK DOG!" Our disciplining could use some work.

The Shamed Culprit:

"I'm sorry momma, but the little orange one called me fat!" Obviously Layla is tortured and taunted by the various decorations, appliances, art supplies in our house while we are gone.

ALTHOUGH,

the one good thing about having your stuff torn up by a mischievous boxer is....

                                                    they do their very best to apologize....