Welcome to Fetus-hood!

To my sweet Poppy, Sugar Packet, Nugget;

I should begin by letting you know how proud we are of you! You have overcome your first milestone, accomplished your first task, and boy oh boy do I have the nausea to prove it! You took one look at being called an embryo, and decided to up the ante. Hello, fetus-hood! You have grown from a tiny little ball of cells to a somewhat-functional little person! Its so exciting for us to know that you now have all of your organs safely in place, that you're testing out your new accessories by moving your little arms and legs like crazy, pumping your own blood and even making your own waste! Way to go, kiddo!

Even though I swear I knew you were growing inside of me before the pregnancy test confirmed it for us, even though I took four pregnancy tests, had the doctor confirm our pregnancy, have seen your adorably cute little blob of a body swimming around on a screen, even though I've been sick to my stomach for weeks, can't even think about eating food, and am up and down all night to use the bathroom, it is so incredibly hard for us to believe you're actually in there. That we are actually blessed enough to have made you. That you're strong and growing on schedule and healthy. But it is still so hard to comprehend that we get to have a child; that we get to have you!

The weirdest thing about it all? We are already so in love with you. Its hard to explain how we've only known about you for mere weeks and you already mean the world to us. There is nothing we wouldn't do for you. You are ours, and we are yours. We are so excited to watch my belly grow as you do, to go to the doctor to check up on you, to get to see you again on the ultrasound screen, and to feel you moving around inside of me. We lay in bed, your daddy and I, and talk about your life. What you'll look like, how you'll be. The kind of parents we want to be for you.

Speaking of your daddy, you are going to get a kick out of him. He is quite the man. He takes care of me (and you!) like there is no one else in the entire world that matters. You aren't so fond of anything right now, so I've been pretty sick and tired and useless. All I can do lately is lay around and try not to vomit. But your daddy? He does everything. He works hard for our family and he loves you and me like crazy and thats plenty in my book. But lately? He's been cleaning the house, doing the dishes and laundry, and as I write this he's making dinner. This morning for breakfast he made French toast, ham and bacon, and even turned it into a smiley face. I'm sure there will be plenty of smiley-faced breakfasts in your days.

He also can't stop touching you. He loves to rub my belly, kiss my belly, cuddle my belly. He still goes on and on about how excited he is that we get to have a child, that we get to have you! I cannot wait to see him interacting and playing with you. You really are one lucky little tyke to get to call such a man Daddy. And I'm pretty darn lucky myself. :)

Keep on trucking, our sweet little unborn! There are plenty of weeks and milestones ahead of us and we can't wait to experience each one with you.

We love you more than you can possibly know.

-Mommy and Daddy

Attached Parenting/ Exterior Gestation

Clearly, at this point and for the next six-ish months I am 100% attached to this baby, and this baby to me. I rely on him/her to make me feel nauseous, to crave something that just makes me puke, to bring me really weird dreams (like the CPS lady showing up asking me where my baby is and upon telling her baby is still growing inside me, I get 'taken in' for losing my baby...) and to make me constantly touch my lower belly, dreaming of our future, of our family, of the amazing love I already feel and how it is growing exponentially daily. Baby, on the other hand clearly relies on me for safety, nourishment, temperature regulation, and plenty of other life-giving stuff. It is obvious that both of us are significantly impacting each others lives. We rely on each other. We are basically one.

Unfortunately for many, many babies, this whole attachment parenting ends when it is no longer obvious that mom and baby are attached, namely, when baby is born. Nursing babies tend to stay more closely attached, strictly due to the round the clock body sucking they need. Our baby, however, will maintain attached to me. Yes I am planning on breast feeding, and no I am not planning on keeping this little sea monkey in me longer than the 9 months. But I have been doing research (really, Kristin researching? Thats odd. Not.) that shows the immense benefits of attached parenting and something that was entirely new to me called Exterior Gestation, or exterogestation. (Apparently this is new to blogspot, too, as it is telling me its spelled wrong...)

The whole idea that the closeness ends after birth is something us crazy westerners and Anglo-speaking people came up with. Around the world babies are constantly attached to their parents until they are completely mobile. We're talking baby wearing here, folks. Around here, though, we have all these nifty products that are made with the express purpose of ease, and keeping baby occupied and out of the way so mommy and daddy can get stuff done sans baby. But the research that has been done on babies that are constantly in physical contact with their parents is pretty amazing.

Here is the deal. Human infants are born more immature, mentally and physically, than any other mammal. Most mammals are already mobile (we're talking walking or crawling) within a few hours after birth. Not so much with the human infant. Something interesting, though? The average number of days a baby is born from the day of conception is 266 1/2. The average number of days it takes for a baby to crawl (like really, actually crawl) from birth? 266 1/2. Therefore, if a human were the typical mammal, our gestation period would actually be about 18 months. This also falls in line with the fact that most mammals are born with 50% of their adult brain, whereas humans are born with 25%. And how long do you think it takes for humans to be at 50% of their adult brain? Thats right. 9 months after birth.

But because we are superior (I'm not being all GO HUMAN! here, just stating the facts) than these other mammals, it has proven to be extremely beneficial to be born so immature. "The infant is not a passive creature who is shaped by his environment, but is constantly exploring, trying to learn, and bring the environment under his control." (Karen, Ph.D, R.) Long story short, humans shape their environment, more so than the environment shapes them. The critical first nine months after birth, when the baby is still extremely immature and developmentally incomplete, are vital to the baby's development. Think how much more the baby learns while his brain is growing faster than it ever will again, being outside of the womb with all of the sights and sounds and smells and tastes of the world around him.

We are one of the few societies that isn't constantly attached to our babies. We are breast feeding less and less, working more and more, and plenty of us consider picking up a crying baby spoiling it. (Post on this for another day. I'm sure your retinas are already bleeding.) The fact of the matter is, throughout most of history, if we took care of babies as we do today, bottle feeding, leaving them for work, sleeping in different rooms, etc, we would not have survived as a species.

"Nature intended for babies to be with their mothers, especially at a time when their brains will grow more than any other time in their lives. Babies could not have been born developmentally incomplete and left alone most of the day or separated from their mothers if we were to survive as a species. No matter however numerous its advantages, however, retardation of growth rates and birth at an earlier state of gestation could never have occurred had there not been compensating care taking behavior on the part of the mother."

So what does this mean for us as a family? It means we'll be sleeping together for awhile. It means I'll be staying home as a mommy. It means I will do everything in my power to breastfeed, and will go into thinking and KNOWING I can do it. It means this little love duck (love duck? Really, where do I come up with these names?) of ours will be attached to me. A lot. Thanks to this:

Enter: The Sleepy Wrap. Weird name, but from all of my research, this is one of the best wraps out there, and wraps are one of the best carriers out there. Once the little tyke gets to be about a year, we'll switch to a Mei Tai of the BabyHawk Brand.

So there you have it. Part of our plan to be the best parents we can be. Part of the whole 'best parents we can be' thing, though, is knowing that every child is different. That plans can change, that life can throw curve balls and that things may not end up exactly like we'd like them to. But this is what we feel will best suit our family and our baby and so this is what we're aiming for. And we'll try are darnedest to make it work.

Love at First Sight

Let me just go out on a limb here and say I was so incredibly nervous/anxious/terrified/excited/worried/thrilled/sick to my stomach/ecstatic at the thought of our ultrasound. The week or so before, it was mainly the good. I couldn't wait. It was scheduled out two weeks from the day we had it scheduled and that seemed like an eternity. As if 9 months isn't long enough!

Then as they day approached, namely the day before, I started worrying. I had been sick all week with that rotten cold, which was a more complained about endeavor than the pregnancy symptoms that week. Then, I read a stupid, stupid, STUPID article by accident Thursday morning that said one of the first signs of miscarriage is not feeling pregnant. So what do you think I was feeling at that exact moment? I certainly wasn't feeling pregnant! Surely, I had lost this baby. Surely I wasn't fit to carry a baby. Surely this was all too perfect, all too surreal. There was no doubt in my logical mind that I was pregnant; four home-tests, as well as a urine and blood test at the doctor, a board certified nurse coming in to tell us, "You're most definitely pregnant!" and a doctor spending an hour going through medical history and birth stories of everyone I've ever known and then oh so wonderfully 'checking to see if my pelvis is large enough to give birth naturally'. I'm fairly certain all that doesn't happen from lack of proof of a baby growing. But my regular brain? The logic-free one? Yeah. There was no way I could be pregnant.

We got to the imaging department half an hour early, because, well that's just how I roll. And if you know me well, you will know that in any situation where quiet, still waiting is required, I prefer to do nothing. No reading, no talking, no anything. Just sitting and staring. People watching is allowed. The entire time I'm sitting there, while Rob reads a camera magazine and tries to grab my attention to take it off of what I'm certain he knows I'm thinking, I am praying to God for peace and protection of our unborn, and arguing with my logical brain that, of course something is wrong, of course we're not going to see a heart-beat and how in-the-heck am I going to be expected to just waltz right out of this place just having learned my baby is gone? I understand I'm crazy, people. Really, I do.

Side Note: I was told to drink one quart of water one hour before the appointment and DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES PEE AFTER DOING SO. Okay, um, I have to pee like the dickens sans drinking any water. What kind of foul punishment is it to make a pregnant woman drink two bottles of water and not pee? I was in pain. If my bladder has ever caused me pain, that was the day.

So we finally get called back into this dark little room with a chair for my love, a bed for me and a sweet ultrasound tech (I don't actually know her title, so we'll just go with that) who was very soft spoken and told me she'd let me pee as quickly as she could. She was my new best friend. So I lay down, fold my jeans down a bit, and she squirts that weird feeling warm goo on my lower belly and the instant she touches that little magic wand to my belly we see our baby. Our baby! Oh the screen! (Not that the little tyke is all that big anyways, but dude was DWARFED by my GIGANTIC bladder! I know, I know, too much information but OH MY GOODNESS. My bladder was a BEAST!) We sat amazed as she showed us this video/picture of our baby, in my belly for twenty minutes. I tried my best to ignore to agonizing pain of having my already too full bladder pushed on over and over as she looked for various parts of me and measurements of baby.

She then zooms in on baby and we see this tiny little light bulb flashing; white, gray, white, gray, white, gray, white, gray. Our baby's heart. Beating! Strong and fast and perfectly normal! The screen was then cut in half; half ultrasound of our baby, the other half this weird, lined, chart looking thing which she told us was the motion of our baby's heart beating. All 151 beats per minute of it! We were amazed. We sat in utter bliss. I'm fairly certain I would trade never peeing again for being able to sit there for the next seven months and watch that adorable little heart beating on our little blob of baby.

When it was time to go (we avoided the, um, 'other place' of interest for first trimester ultrasounds because the tech was able to get the measurements she needed just from my belly) we walked out to a different world. We had our baby, alive and well, with his or her little arms and little legs and amazing little beating heart. Rob couldn't stop saying "that is the coolest thing I have ever seen in my LIFE" and "I have never seen anything so AMAZING" and "that was our BABY!" Needless to say, he doesn't cuddle me in bed anymore. He only cuddles his baby. Have I told you how much I love this man? I feel like the luckiest woman alive to not only get to be called his wife, but that my child, our child, will get to call him daddy.

The picture we got isn't great, but it is still amazing to stare at because it is a picture of our baby. Of that tiny little 3/4 of an inch baby, our large raspberry sized nugget, that we are already head over heels in love with. Here's to counting down to December, when if everything goes normal and well, we'll have our next ultrasound!

Statistics:
Crown to Rump Measurement- 3/4 inch
Weight- too little to measure :)
Due Date: Friday, May 14th, 2010 (doesn't that sound so futurish?)
Ultrasound from Friday October 2, 2009: 8 Weeks 0 Days

Goodbye Modesty, Hello Baby!

I took the crazy test, and it was a positive two pink lines; pregnancy has made me crazy. Not only does this pregnancy have me eating nothing but applesauce, peeing 347 times a day (17 times in the middle of the night), irrationally needing to rearrange and/or buy new furniture, perilously sorting through things and wanting to give EVERYTHING away, but it has me crying. Desperately crying. Ridiculous, reasonless crying through pretty much any song or show or commercial, but namely Friday Night Lights. Have you seen the show? Disclaimer: if you're pregnant, for the sake of yourself, your spouse and your unborn child, please do not watch this show. Holy cry fest 2009.

Aside from the peeing, the crying, the needing to buy new and the purging of old, pregnancy and this sweet little nugget growing inside of me haven't really treated me too badly. I'm nauseous most mornings and evenings, and sometimes through the day but I can really track it to when I let myself get too hungry. Which is quite an easy task, seeing as absolutely NOTHING sounds good. Applesauce? Yum, delicious! Anything else? No thank you. I have actually had to (I apologize) hold in my vomit just thinking about certain things. The other day I about lost my applesauce at the mere sight of some canned black beans in our pantry. I had no intention of eating them, I was not trying to concoct a recipe using them, and I'm not so sure I was even thinking about them, but the sight of that innocent little can had me running to the bathroom and praying to the Good Lord Above that I could keep down my lunch.

With the help of my loving Water Nazi (you know, the Baby Daddy) I've been doing my best to down as much liquid as I can, (I promise, Mom!) but it has proven to be a difficult task when there are times pure bottled water makes me gag. I still can't figure this one out, but I've taken to just going with the flow and figuring it is what it is. At least I have managed to not throw up my prenatal yet, though I gag even just thinking about trying to swallow that pill. And believe you me, pills have never been an issue. But apparently my unborn isn't too fond of them.

So aside from the very typical (and my mom thinks I've got it pretty easy as far as these things go) first trimester symptoms, this whole baby making thing has gone pretty textbook so far. I've been stuck with a rotten, ache-all-over-my-body, throat-burns-like-the-depths-of-hell, congestion-like-New-York-traffic-at-rush-hour type cold all week that I think is just starting to leave me alone and let me be. Fortunately, Benadryl is a Class A (meaning it has been tested and approved for use in all trimesters of pregnancy) drug that I have been taking at night to let me sleep. And I'm fairly certain the house will recover from lack of me doing ANYTHING but laying in bed for the entire week. I actually even ventured out to the store (oh boy!) last night to get some more soup for me and mine, who has also caught this wonderful cold.

Exciting news of the week? Ultrasound TOMORROW! Woohoo! We are so very, very excited to see our sweet little blob of a peanut on a static-y black and white screen. We may be a little over zealous, but come on! This is our BABY! And we're seeing him or her! On a screen! From inside my belly! And apparently another place I'm told they utilize for first trimester ultrasounds... heh. Oh well. Goodbye modesty, hello baby!

And there is reason to celebrate- our little poppyseed is so grown up! The little tyke is now 3/4 of an inch! That is a far, far cry from the little poppyseed he/she was when we first were introduced via that nice pregnancy test!

Alright then, folks. Updates tomorrow I'm sure with news from the ultrasound.

Let the Symptoms Begin!

I am exhausted. Completely and utterly exhausted. The kind of tired where I wake up from a decent full night of sleep and feel like I could sleep for another eight hours. And I'm sure I could. I've never been much of a sleeper- I hated it from day one (ask my poor parents!). This feeling of wanting to be sleeping ALL THE TIME is so foreign to me! I've been taking about an hour or so long nap a day and it doesn't seem to help restore the energy at all. By 8:30 at night, I'm begging to go to bed. They say our baby is set to TRIPLE in size this week, and I'm pretty convinced that has something to do with it.

I have learned what they mean by morning sickness, and have jumped on the bandwagon to get the title changed to ALL THE TIME sickness. Truth be told, from the get go of this whole baby making adventure, nighttime hasn't been so good to me. The night after we found out I was pregnant, I spent an hour or two in the bathtub trying to work through some awful stomach stuff. From then on, nights have just been bleh. Gassy, bloated and feeling like all my innards were turned into outters and replaced with a dense, wet sand. Fortunately, aside from nights the constant need to pee, I felt really, really good. This whole week, however, has brought a brand spankin' new brand of nausea. True blue nausea. The "oh please don't throw up. Come on Kristin, please don't throw up. Think through it, work through it, oh God please don't let me throw up" kind of nausea. My lovely unborn has yet to make me actually puke, but I sure have had some close calls.

Oh. And my brain? Gone with my energy. It is gone. I've been told you get mommy brain pretty much as soon as you get pregnant and it never. goes. away. Not after the kid is born, not after the kid is in school, not after the kid moves out. Never. It is here to stay. Which really sucks considering at about 6 weeks into the whole deal, I went and got my purse stolen. I say stolen, but I pretty much put it out there for anyone who was experiencing a lack of judgement to take. Bye, bye credit cards. Bye, bye check book. Bye, bye point and shoot camera. Bye, bye positive pregnancy tests I was keeping to remind myself when I found it surreal. Bye, bye work time cards. Bye, bye favorite wallet. Bye, bye journal. Bye, bye keys and the 4-500 dollars it is costing to replace you. Bye, bye normal brain.

Hot flashes, food cravings, food aversions (who thinks a frickin' ice cream sandwich doesn't sound good? My kid is a weirdo!) added to the nasea and bloating and I'm FINALLY really feeling pregnant. This kid is coming. And I am so ready. We are so ready.

After work today I took a bite of a much coveted apple slice and it totally made me feel like a million bucks. (I may or may not have even giggled out loud to myself.) But three apple slices in, I was doing my best at convincing myself to keep them down. I am fairly certain during that mental battle with my stomach, I decided I never want to eat another apple again.

I then proceeded to fight the air conditioning the whole way home. It would be freezing and then it would be a million degrees. There was no middle ground. It took a good long 20 minutes for me to realize it probably wasn't the jeep, rather my incubating child giving me hot flashes.

This afternoon I got three dishes into the massive pile holding our sink hostage. I then had to sit down. Three dishes? How am I expected to labor for hours and hours and then push a kid out if I can't even do THREE FRICKIN' DISHES without being exhausted? This miracle of mine is rendering me useless.

But do you know what? I love it. I love every single aspect of this pregnancy. I love being sick because it means my hormones are fighting hard for this little tyke residing somewhere near my bladder. I love the cravings because they remind me I'm not just taking care of myself. I love the bloating and the hot flashes and the crazy dreams because it makes me feel pregnant. It makes me feel like a mommy. And that makes me feel amazingly blessed and more excited than I can possibly imagine.

Bring on the Babies!

Every night for the last week or so I have dreamed about having a baby. Literal dreams. I had one where I was in the hospital bed, laboring and pushing out a baby. I dreamed of Rob holding him there next to me on the bed and we named him Connor. He was ours.

I dreamed the other night that I was holding a baby. Walking through Costco, content as could be. This time he was an older baby, probably around 6 or so months. I was in love, and he was mine.

I dreamt I was exhausted as I pulled myself out of bed to snuggle with a screaming, floppy newborn. He smelled like me. He belonged to me. He was mine.

There have been other baby dreams, here and there. I wanted to be pregnant. I cried in amazement and jealously at every new baby born. I felt resentment towards pregnant woman in Target. I always stray through the baby clothes section. We hadn't really been trying, but I was so very ready for my own.

I began to feel pregnant. They say you just know, and I'm pretty sure I did. For me, though, I wanted it so badly I was convincing myself it was my desire giving me these odd feelings. I was super tender in areas that usually weren't and I felt bloated. I took a test and it came back negative. I took another the following morning; same deal. While I hadn't expected a positive, I felt let down. I didn't trust my body to work in the way God intended it to and it killed me. There is nothing more in this entire world that I want than a baby, a child, a family.

Yesterday while shopping for the new Batman video game for Rob, I bought a pregnancy test. They were on sale; a two pack for $5.99. What the heck, why not? I hadn't had my period and I was about a week late. So this morning, as I sat there on the toilet, peeing on a stick, (you're welcome for that information...hehe...) I figured I was up for another dissapointment. I watched the stick. Slowly a line began showing; surely it is just the line to show the test worked. There were two. There were two? There were two! There were two lines! I began shaking. I called for Rob. I'm sure I sounded like something was wrong; my voice was week. I was weak. I was excited and thrilled and in utter disbelief.

I showed it to him. "It has two lines, Rob. It has to lines!" "Does that...what does...are we pregnant?" "Thats what it means! Look!" I compared the test to the box instructions. 1 line= not pregnant. 2 lines= pregnant. "You're...we're having a baby!" He was stunned. He was just as shocked as I was. "Are we ready?" I asked him. "I'm ready. I'm so ready. You tell me if 'we're' ready.." he replied. I am fairly certain I couldn't be more ready.

I forced myself to use the bathroom again, using the water dripping as an aid, and tested myself on the second stick. Positive. I shook with joy.

I went to Target to buy another test. I was glowing. I'm sure I looked like a fool, smiling to myself. But I had a secret. The best secret. I get to be a mommy. There was life that we created growing inside of me. This perfect little being. My perfect little being.

My mind is crazy, and I know this. Now that I know for sure, I swear I can feel where s/he is, even though according to babycenter.com our baby is only the size of a poppyseed. I feel tense and tight and buldgy in my low, low belly. I know I'm making it up. But I love the idea that someone, someone that Rob and I in love created, is growing inside of me and it is up to me to keep him/her strong and healthy and warm and fed. I love this. I have never been happier. I kid you not- there has never been a more happy day.

Today is September 11th, 2009. Today I found out I get to be a mommy. Today is the beginning of happily ever after. I don't think dreams come any truer.

Bring on the babies!

All in a Year

It is hard to believe that a year has come and gone and I've had the privilege to be called his wife the entire time.

It is hard to believe that in that same one year, we have changed as individuals and we have changed as one. That we have loved and forgiven. That we have lost and found. That we have bought and sold. That we have moved and stayed put.

It is hard to believe that I have actually thought that I could never love him more. That my love was so strong, so powerful and so very present that I couldn't imagine it growing, that I couldn't possibly love him more than I already did, than I already do. But I do. I inevitably will. Because with each passing day, each passing hour and minute, beyond every argument, further than any disagreement, so much greater than any time he makes me angry enough that I could scream, I love him more.

It doesn't matter what he does, or doesn't, do. It doesn't matter if we're happily in bliss or arguing over misunderstood words. He cannot do anything to make me love him less. I will always continue to love him more.

It almost feels inadequate to tell him "I love you." Even though he makes sure he never hangs up the phone without saying it. Even though in the wee hours of the morning when he's showered, dressed and all ready for work and I'm still curled up under the covers sound asleep and he makes sure he whispers it into my ear before he leaves. It still feels wrong when I say it. It feels like it is too simple, too streamlined. I feel like I need to tell him more. Like loving him isn't quite the word. Like I need to put the sign for exponential at the end of it. Maybe I should just tell him "I love you exponentially." I could even try explaining it every time; "There is no way I could possibly love you more, but I will and I'm pretty sure I already do even more so then when I started this sentence." 'I love you'? Does that really seem right? I feel like "I need you" may be even more precise, but that seems so selfish and my love is anything but. I couldn't help but love him. If I wanted to stop, I'm not so sure I could. It is woven into the fiber of my being.

Don't get me wrong; I love loving the man. He makes it easy. It is just that my love for him is such a part of who I am, of what makes me, me, that the choice is hardly mine. I chose how to show that love to him, but I am not so sure I could simply 'chose' to stop loving him. Not that I want to. Not that I would ever want to.

I am a grudge holder. I hold grudges like there are a billion tomorrows and I'll be just as upset on every single one of those as I am today. And I hold back. When I am mad, I am MAD and you will know about it; no questions asked. This is something I am working on with God and I realize it is not the way to live. I slip up with Rob, though. I accidentally tell him. It falls out of my mouth without my knowing. It slips through my teeth and before I realize what I'm doing he's telling me he loves me too. My love or whatever better word there is for it for that man pours through my pores. It seeps out of my skin. Words that aren't quite powerful enough fall from my mouth at the sound of his voice or the sight of his face. I love that man. Words cannot describe or define. I just, well, I just love him.

This first year has been exciting. I think that would be the best way to describe it. So many people told us the first year is tough- you are thrown into life together. No longer is it just the dating, the courting, the dinners out, the walking through parks, holding hands, the late night movies. It is bills. And things breaking. And family dramas. And decisions. And growing up. But do you know what is exciting about it? The bills. The things breaking. And the family dramas and the decisions and the growing up.

Standing in the midst of these, things can look bleak. But when you stand back from them and look, OH MY GOODNESS! I am paying bills with the man I love. Things break and we, together, get to figure out how to fix them. I am not alone on my side of the family drama. I have a built in, permanent teammate on my side. And the decisions? Exciting! We are planning our lives! Growing up? It is scary. But it is so, so very fun and new and exhilarating. And I get to do it all with this amazing man who I think is just outstanding, and from what I hear he kinda likes me too.

And pay bills we have. Fix things? Check, check. Family drama? You better believe it. Decisions? We moved, didn't we? Growing up? Well, we'll just say baby planning is in the works.

The Internet let us get to know each other. We fell in love across the state, college let us be together. Dates let our love develop. Challenges let us get to know each other better. The engagement made us busier. The wedding made us permanent. The honeymoon made us deeper in love. The moving to the middle of nowhere three days later made us closer. The coming home to each other made us happier. Calling each other husband and wife made us giddier. The bills made us stingier. The rough job hours made (and make) our time together sweeter. The sweet surprises made us kinder. Reading the bible together at night made us hit our knees harder. The constant travelling made us crazier. The birthdays made us older. Holidays made us feel like our own family. The new, big purchases made us feel more grown up. Our disagreements made us stronger. Mean words made us nicer. And every single day in between for this first whole year, has made us more and more in love.

In the meantime...

We are still as busy as ever as the summer of 2009 proves to be one of no mercy to the tired homebodies. We arrived safely home (and free from an anxiety attack on my part at having to ride an airplane. Twice. And if you promise not to tell anyone-it wasn't half bad!) from California and had a great trip visiting family members from Rob's side of the maternal variety.

We actually have this weekend free due to some cancelled plans so we can clean out the garage full of accumulated stuff (read: crap) that we don't need/want/have any reason to keep. Technically (and by that I mean, it definitely needs to) the Camaro has to be in a fully enclosed garage for insurance purposes. And technically (and by that I mean, it definitely isn't) it isn't, because quite frankly, it doesn't fit.

So dump run, Goodwill run, maybe even a little feet-up-in-the-backyard-in-perfect-80-degree-weather-sipping- Italian-Ices-with-my-darling-though-sometimes-annoyingly-mannish-in-the-listening-department-husband, then cleaning and pantry stocking for our house guests who are due to arrive the following weekend. (Yay! We are excited to have people visiting us, so we get to mingle while still being at home!) It's amazing how being gone every waking moment of your life makes all of the food disappear.

Before we know it, the houseboat trip shall be upon us! What houseboat trip, you ask? You soon shall find out. Stay tuned for "The Griswald's* Drive a Motorhome-esque Boat on a 130-mile Long Lake Roosevelt for a Week" adventure tour. I'm sure it'll be a doozy. Coming soon to a blog near you, the end of July, 2009.

*My Grandpa refers to us (the Madson's) as "The Griswalds" especially when talking about vacations due to our uncanny ability to always assure something goes wrong. I am wondering if I jumped ship on this label when I changed names? I suppose we shall see...

So in the meantime, while I'm uploading pictures of our California trip, cleaning out, dumping, goodwilling, re-parking, Italian Ice sipping, cleaning, restocking, and packing, you can enjoy this ridiculously long movie I made out of boredom, an interest in old pictures, and in response to an off-hand comment a friend made about how kids never really know who their parent's were before they took over came into their lives.

And seriously, folks. It's like 13 minutes long. We're talking four full-length songs here. So if you are interested in watching it, maybe space it out. Or at least watch it while enjoying a hot cup of Joe, the newest Tonight Show or bluebooking (is that a verb?) your cars value. Anything so you can't blame a wasted 13 minutes of your life on me and mine. Kapeesh? Good. Enjoy. :)

Untitled from Kristin Billiau on Vimeo.

Happy Birthday, Rob...Again

As if Rob needed anymore birthday celebrations, I planned a fun, relaxing, romantic trip to Seattle where we stayed in the fancy-schmancy Hotel Monaco (thanks to my Mom and Dad!) ate at all-too-fancy (and expensive) restaurants, walked our feet to a nice blistery state, and enjoyed each other immensely.

We left the pups at a kennel, and headed off late afternoon on Friday. It was our first little trip alone since our Honeymoon, and we just soaked up the time. We had no official plans except for dinner on Saturday, so we got to enjoy our time at our own pace; we even snuck in a nap on Saturday!

Friday night we ate at the always wonderful, always crazy crowded Cheesecake Factory. And also as always, we were way too full to even get to enjoy some of the delicious cheesecake. We walked around a bit, and then finished off at Sazerac restaurant, which is connected to Hotel Monaco with some drinks and a shared Gooey Chocolate Cake with pouring creme (...think whipping cream on steroids...) which was actually even better than it sounds.

Saturday morning was a nice, late and lazy morning (Rob didn't wake up until 7 which is practically unheard of). We ordered room service, and ate breakfast in bed; also from Sazerac, it was absolutely amazing.

We walked up and down Pike, but didn't actually go to the market. Both of us have been many, many a time and really had no interest in fighting the summer tourists on that (somewhat) sunny Seattle Saturday. We did a little shopping, and then made the nice long walk to the Space Needle and surrounding area.

We had every intention of taking the trip up the Space Needle but those darn summer tourists got the best of us and we decided not to wait in the line that WRAPPED AROUND THE ENTIRE AREA. And, it saved us 38 bucks. Thanks to the wonderful, golf ball sized blisters that had taken residence on my feet (Hold the scolding- I now realize I should have packed better shoes) we retreated to our hotel, with a brief stop for Pulled Pork Sandwiches and Sweet Potato fries for lunch, from, you guessed it. Sazerac. Not only was it totally convenient being attached to the hotel, we couldn't resist trying more things on their menu. They're food was AWESOME.

We then read and napped for a bit. We never, and I repeat NEVER get time for reading and naps. Especially together. Especially while snuggling. Especially while on a ridiculously comfortable 300-and-some-odd-dollars a night bed. Especially while looking out over a really pretty view of Seattle.

Okay, okay. I was only kidding. But wouldn't it be neat if that's what Seattle looked like?

We got up and dressed in time to go to our Hotel's 'social hour' where there was free wine sampling. We enjoyed a glass, and then headed down to The Pike Brewery, which was really, really neat.

Rob's all time favorite beer (okay, aside from Guinness) is brewed by them, and he had always wanted to visit. Upon our beer sampler, he actually found a new favorite. All I can tell you is that it was #5- I couldn't for the life of me tell you what the names were.

We made our way down to the waterfront to Elliot's Oyster House, which by the way, is "Where Seattle gets their Seafood." It came highly recommended to us by my dad and the entirely of the internet for the best Seafood joint in Seattle. I enjoyed Coconut Prawns with Plum Sauce (the first coconut prawns I have found that were actually better than the ones I was serviced in a tree house restaurant with a sand floor in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico- and I don't even like seafood) and a house salad, while Rob was served what appeared to be an entire crab on a plate. After, I must add, being adorned with a cute little bib.

When we were done, they brought over a bowl of the best creme brulee in existence, topped with a little candle. (Ahem. Where were the other TWENTY-NINE?) They accidentally left a desert menu, and because we are incredibly indecent human beings with zero self control, we ordered another desert to share. This time? Deep Fried Chocolate Truffles.

Hello? Is this thing on? I said Deep. Fried. Chocolate. Truffles.

By Sunday morning we pretty much couldn't button our pants. We were around 600 dollars poorer, and about 10 pounds heavier. Each.

After paying for parking (60 dollars for two nights. Whaaaat?) we headed back towards home. Even after only 48 hours we missed our wonderful, horrible terriers and ached for our own bed a little. We really do love being in our little rental house, in what seems like our own private section of the world in sweet little Wenatchee. We finished off the wonderfully romantic weekend with homemade carne asada and wine in our backyard. We are such homebodies.

And I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Happy Birthday to Rob!

Though it wasn't my birthday last Wednesday, I have realized something about getting older: time starts going faster and faster. I'm pretty sure we only got married last week, yet in a couple months' time it will have been a whole year!

But I'm probably not the one you should be talking to about getting old. Enter: Rob. Handsome gentleman, reddish-brown hair, 5'11'', 180lbs, and 30 years old. I repeat. Thirty. Years. Old.

Well a very happy birthday to you, old man! :)

He is actually getting a whole birthday month, and it isn't quite over yet. We kicked off the month with a trip to Spokane, met with some friends for dinner (Red Lobster wasn't worth the at least two hour wait, so we opted for Italian Kitchen, which comes in at a close second) and had a grand old time. (No pictures were taken as the restaurant was deemed to nice for pictures. Whaaat? I'm still trying to get over my sadness.)

Next stop was the 10th, his actual birthday, and we celebrated as just Mr. and Mrs. here in our quaint little home. We kicked off the day (before he had to leave for work) by giving him the card I had made him. A huge cut-out '30' with the front entirely covered with pictures from his entire lifespan, and the inside filled with the "30 Reasons I Love My 30-Year-Old Husband" (see below) His response? "Wow. That's a lot of writing."

While he was working, I decorated with streamers and a couple 'Happy Birthday' banners in a very my mom-esque style. For dinner we Rob had two whole pounds of King Crab Legs, (served on real silver platters) which I marinated in a wine/garlic/lemon concoction, and then roasted, which I am told turned out amazingly well.

Of course the night ended with an (if a may say so myself) amazing peanut butter icebox pie/cheesecake thing with crushed Oreo crust. (http://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/2009/06/another-pie/) It was so good, that we both accidental forgot to wait for him to blow out candles. I'm sure you can see the missing pieces in the pictures. Whoops! And yes, you silly, silly people. Of course I sang the love of my life "happy birthday" all by my lonesome. I totally wooed him, too.

This weekend we are going to Seattle to indulge ourselves in a very relaxing, romantic time at the Hotel Monaco. We have no distinct plans but to enjoy each other and the city. We plan on walking everywhere, have an entourage of restaurants we have to eat at (I know, have to, right? Like we are even trying to resist...) and just being with each other, on our first little trip alone since our honeymoon. And we do plan on having a blast, thankyouverymuch.

Finally, on the 3rd of July, bright and early in the morning, Rob's mom is generous enough to fly us down so we can visit and celebrate our countries freedom along with my elderly (he he) husbands big 3-0! I think it should be a fine way to end a birthday month!

Whew! Did you catch all that? Just in case you haven't already ready enough about my soon-to-be-wearing-depends-husband, I'll finish this post with the email I sent out to our friends and family. Yes it's sappy, no its not me sucking up, and yes it is absolutely, without-a-doubt, the 100% honest truth.

And without further adieu, 30 Things I Love About My 30-Year-Old Husband-

1.) He is a ferocious experimenter. Plenty have gone awfully awry, but quite a few are successful. I love him for it, but it also drives me nuts.

2.) He is a forgiver. Oh my is he ever. I've had my share and then some of his splendid forgiveness. He truly forgives and forgets. The kind of person we all should be.

3.) He is a fighter. The man doesn't give up. He fought through some rough childhood situations, overcoming plenty of odds. He's fought for friends, for jobs, for God, and Lord knows he has done is fair share of fighting for me. I love that I can know he will continue to fight- for me, for our family, for our marriage, for our children.

4.) He truly is a man's man. Of which I am eternally grateful because his 'man' jobs include taking out the trash, checking on strange noises, squishing the bugs, and making all the 'mean' calls in which you have to be a little stern to get what you need. I probably would have gotten married just to avoid having to make the 'mean' calls myself, but I've gotten a heck of a lot more than I bargained for. ;)

5.) He isn't a fan of television. Okay, okay, okay. So we watch a few shows via steaming them online, but he isn't a "I hold the remote and no one else touches it, and my backside never strays from the couch" kind of guy. Neither one of us can stand sitting in front of the TV for long.

6.) He is a mad tech genius. I kid you not the man can fix a computer thats been stung with viruses, thrown under a bus, drowned in a river and resembles nothing more than a wheezing, steaming rock.

7.) He is a walking dictionary. I actually have a love/hate relationship with this aspect of him. I love that I can ask him the spelling/definition/synonyms/antonyms of any word that ever existed and he can tell me accurately and instantly. I'm not so fond of him talking to me like I'm some rocket scientist who knows what he means when he says, "I'm sorry I have a weakness for sesquipedalian excess." (http://dictionary.reference.com/wordoftheday/archive/1999/10/25.html) Okay, okay. So he's never said that. But he probably will.

8.) He has an amazing, active imagination. I will ask him to tell me a story, weather it be out of boredom, on a long drive, or trying to sleep, he comes up, instantly, with an entirely random, compelling,and quite elaborate story. Did I mention instantly? It expands beyond that too- he's the kind of guy who, when asked what we should do, comes up with things like "write a story, create a recipe, invent a new game, create a home video movie about ninjas, write a five-year plan, take dancing lessons, or join some kind of club" when I'm like, "uhhh...we could watch a movie?"

9.) He puts up with me. He puts up with my obsessive picture-taking; my never-ending music-listening; my baby clothes buying; my awful, repetitive guitar playing; my scrapbook mess-making, my bland food-likes, my outside water fight desires, my crazy, intimidating, daunting ideas, and all of my faults that I'm not brave enough to spell out. Out of frustration I once asked him, "Why do I put up with you?" to which he quickly responded, "Because I put up with you." So very, very true.

10.) He is so sweet. He is a kind of sweet that I didn't even know existed until I met him.

11.) He will always be a kid at heart. And you know what? Life is too short to get old. So we'll play silly games and we'll sing made up songs and you can point and laugh at us, but I can guarantee you we are having more fun. :)

12.) He is not afraid to admit his mistakes. He apologizes no later than .34 seconds after he realizes he was wrong.

13.) He loves my family...or he is a really good faker. We've all heard the in-law horror stories. Since I think my family's pretty much the coolest thing since sliced bread, I am eternally thankful the two get along and can actually have an honest good time.

14.) He is so much more than I deserve. And, for some crazy reason, he will tell you the exact same thing about me.

15.) He is a family man, but a blood-schmud kind of man. Friends and family, and family are friends. And if you're locked under one of those categories for him, you can practically consider yourself set. He would do anything for any one of us.

16.) He set aside his manhood and read the Twilight Saga just because I liked it so much. (If you catch him in the right mood he will admit to actually enjoying it.) And then he even pretended to be a vampire.

17.) He brings me 'just because' gifts. I am not a needy girl, but it still makes me feel like a princess.

18.) He is a man strong in his faith. He believes with every ounce of his being, and does his humanly best to live as such.

19.) He wrote (and had illustrated) a book. Not just any book, though. A children's book. A children's book that was written for our first child, and dedicated to me with a signed "I'll love you forever." Um, hello? How can you NOT love this man? He wrote a book for our unborn child? How lucky am I?

20,) He is witty. He isn't afraid to be goofy and he absolutely cracks me up.

21.) He knows the most random facts. Ever. And if I knew anything about anything I would probably be able to remember one to reference, but you will just have to take my word for it.

22.) He is a hard worker. He is a strong and ethical and little-complaining worker. He leaves the house by 5:30 in the morning, drives all over the map, and depending on how the day goes, he gets home anywhere between 5PM and 9PM. And he complains way less than I do about it.

23.) He once told me, while we were out in the middle of nowhere, that, and I quote, "If our country keeps spiraling downwards and we ever enter another depression, you realize I will do whatever it takes for us to make it? I don't care what it is, but I do know we will be okay." I'm not so sure that will ever need to be, but just the fact that he thought it enough to vocalize makes me love him even more.

24.) He likes when I pick out his outfits. I'm fairly certain it is just because it is easier than him trying to figure out if a brown polo and brown shorts match (it doesn't, sweetie) but he pretends he likes it just because I do.

25.) For Christmas he put together a huge room-divider picture frame containing only pictures from our honeymoon. He worked so long and hard finding which pictures should go in which slot, ordering the right size, only to realize that all of the 8X10's he had printed were horizontal when they needed to be vertical. So when he gave it to me he said, "we get to fix it together!" But I am really quite happy with my side-ways pictures, thankyouverymuch.

26.) We never run out of things to talk about. We'll put it this way; Rob and I once ran up a $1000 phone bill (just on my side) in one month- you can ask my parents. And, to this day, we've still never had an issue of finding things to talk about. There is rarely a silent moment in this household.

27.) He introduced me to Peggle. Whats that? You've never heard of Peggle? Oh, well, I apologize upfront for the inconvenience to the rest of your life as you obsess over this game.http://www.popcap.com/games/peggle

28.) He gives a mean back rub. And I am spoiled with it nightly. Every. Single. Night. Oh how I love his strong hands laced with lavender baby oil. :)

29.) He loves me. And I really can't figure out quite why he adores me, but he does. And he shows it. And I have no right to ever, ever complain about him not showing his feelings, or about him not being sensitive to mine because he does and he is. My old neighbor had a group of girls come over for wine and cheese party's every now and then. Rob (as the only guy) went twice and was his typical charming, helpful, friendly, funny, humble self. Every time after that those girls would always ask, "Where is my Rob? Why haven't I found him yet?" I am so, so very glad and blessed to have found MY Rob.

30.) He is Rob. He is the one and only- no one else even comes close. He is my best friend, my accountability partner, the love of my life, my comedian, my caretaker, my confidant, my dream chaser, my shoulder to cry on, my joy to laugh with, my hand to hold, and the best thing that has happened to me. It makes the world a better place just knowing that he's here to share it with me. I consider it a privilege to be called his wife.

Hapy Easter!

I don't have too many words to say, because this video pretty much says it all. It is kind of long (6 minutes) but you really should watch it- it is simply amazing. It'll bring you to tears. The sacrifices this man made for us are overwhelming. 

Hope everyone has a wonderful Easter surrounded by family and friends. We are heading over to Lakewood to celebrate with my whole family- something we haven't always done for Easter but I am very glad for because we haven't seen much of eachother lately.

Take care and God bless.

 (The song is New Again by Brad Paisley and Sara Evans. Lyrics below.)

Mother, do not cry for me

All of this is exactly how it's supposed to be

I'm right here, can you hear my voice?

My life, my love, my Lord, my baby boy

As they nail me to this tree

Just know the Father waits for me

God how can this be your will

To have your son, and my son, killed

Whatever happens, whatever you see

Whatever your eyes tell you has become of me

This is not, it's not the end

I am making all things new again

I remember when you were born

In that manger where I first held you in my arms

So many miracles, and lives you've changed

And this world repays you how? With all this pain.

And as they nail me to this tree

Just know the Father waits for me

God how can this be your will

To have your son, and my son, killed

Whatever happens (whatever happens)

Whatever you see (I don't want to see)

Whatever your eyes tell you has become of me

This is not (tell me it's not)

It's not the end, I am making all things new again

Whatever happens, whatever you see

Whatever your eyes tell you has become of me

This is not, its not the end

I am making all things new again

Wait...we're doing what?

There are many days throughout the week where my news hungry, podcast listening, somewhat nerdy (though undeniably adorably so) sweet, sweet husband leaves up an article or two on my computer that he thinks I will find interesting. Interesting usually meaning passion evoking. When things just strike the right (or wrong, for that matter) chord, I can't help but promulgate my opinion.

This is was what happened to my poor, unsuspecting brain this morning.

This whole housing bill thing just gives me the shivers. And not the good kind. Rob and I want nothing more right now than to be able to buy a house. It is our number one goal at the moment and we are budgeting and cutting and sacrificing and researching and saving, saving, saving so we will be able to do so. We know we will not take a house loan with a morgage over 1/3 of our monthly income. We know it will be tempting; and we know it would be ridiculously stupid to do so. 

I can agree, to some very small extent, that part of the blame for this entire 'morgage crisis' lays in the hands of the banks, who greedily gave loans far and above the means of many people and familes. But I can also say without a shadow of a doubt that nearly every single bit of the blame, if not all of it, falls in the hands of the people who stupidly decided to bite off more than they can chew. 

It all comes down to personal responsibilty, folks. Just because we are the land of the free doesn't mean we are a massive plot of land filled with idiots who do whatever the heck they want just because they can. It also doesn't mean that said idiots preforming said actions will not have to face any consequences because our knight-in-shining armor of a government will bail us out. Or does it?

In the article Rob left up for me this morning I read this quote. Then I stopped, and reread it. Then I copied and pasted it into a blog because it was so good/true/viable/pertinant to everything thats been going on lately- "This legislation punishes the successful, it taxes the responsible, and it holds no one accountable." (said by Rep. Lamar Smith of Texas, the senior Republican on the Judiciary Committee.) I just wanted to throw up my hands, and shout EXACTLY. This is EXACTLY my issue with our government. This is EXACTLY why I believe America is  heading in a very wrong direction. This is EXACTLY what I mean when I say personal responsibility is practically non existant anymore. Thank you, Mr. Smith of Texas. Thank you for saying EXACTLY what I wanted to in words far better than I could have chosen.

So, way to go government. You are in the process of successfuly showing the people of America that it is okay to be irrisponsible. That, "you know what? We'll just remove the rock and hardplace you've wedged yourself between." Nicely done. Touche'.

And a very big congratulations goes out to all the irrisponsible people. I mean, way to swing getting a house way above your means for practically free now. You can thank me, and the rest of the responsible tax payers later. 

For now, I'll just continue paying my taxes and sitting comfortably in my cheap little rental house. :)

"Everything is Amazing and No One is Happy."

I've never been a fan of my generation. Quite frankly, I'm disgusted with it. We are seriously a massive group of over-privileged, under-appreciative, spoiled rotten, "The World Owe's Me Everything", woe is me, whiners. I don't know what could have possibly gone wrong to cause this colossal group of 20ish and younger brats to throw self responsibility out the window and sit back while the rest of the world hands them everything they "deserve". 

If I've learned one thing in my life it is that no one owes me anything. In fact, I am the debtor WAY more than the creditor. I owe way more than I will ever be able to give (we're not talking money here, folks) and I'll be damned if I don't live like it. I am not the top dog, the bee's knees, the cat's meow, and I am most definitely not going to pretend that I am. 

Dear My Generation,

Get over yourself.

Love, Kristin.

I saw this clip whilst perusing the Internet and it made me laugh my guts out. It isn't quite pinpointing my lame generation, rather how spoiled and 'holier than thou' people are these days. You should watch it. It is totally worth the 4 minutes. 

(On cell phones)..."Give it a second! Its going to space! Can you give it a second to get back from space?" Hahaha. I love it.

Alright, folks. Thats my random tangent for the time being. Take care.

Appreciate life. And remember, no one owes you anything. :)

We're Alive!

So I am minding my own business, folding laundry, forgetting to shower and obsessing over Photoshop when a little birdie came by and informed me I have this thing called a blog that I unofficially vowed to keep up. Slightly paranoid about a talking bird, I obliged to look into it and realized its been oh so very long since our last post in which we apologized for it being oh so very long since our last post. Does that make sense? Good.

So here I am, yet again, needing to catch up on our life's story, post much past-due pictures, and even older events. I have decided, however, to pretend I'm caught up and start anew. Eventually I will get this thing down pat and throw up one or two of the million of pictures I snap each week, write a couple words, a nice parting sentence and maintain my unwritten promise to the blogging world to do my part. Eventually.

What a nice word. Eventually. No deadlines, no promises. Eventually I will have thousands of extra dollars in the bank just waiting for that rainy day. Eventually Rob won't have to remind me that we are t-minus -3 days in need of clean socks. Eventually I will know every setting on my camera and use them, perfectly, without thought. Eventually I will finish those two online classes that I am kindly attemtping to will out of existence. Eventually I will play the guitar like a pro. Eventually we will get Rob's car cleaned up, the credit cards payed off, and the dryer won't make that awful chunk-chink-chunk sound for the entire duration of the cycle. But now? Now I will continue obsessing with Photoshop, reading The Pioneer Woman a little too frequently and pretending that the sock drawer is full.

Oh. And now I'll post some sweet Valentine's pictures of me and my sweet lover from -gasp- Valentine's Day!

We should begin by saying our Valentine's was really spread out due to our being spoiled by family. My parents brought us over a really sweet basket with our wedding wine, a cozy heart blanket, and all of the tasty ingredients for a yummy Italian dinner, and cash for a movie. Then my grandparents sent us nice Valentine's wishes and a gift card for Red Robin which we thoroughly enjoyed Friday night. And one of my grandma's sent over some cash in a sweet card in which we used to purchase some of our Valentine's ingredients. Aren't we ridiculously spoiled? Thanks for all the love, everyone!



We had a royally fun weekend. It would have been an amazingly great weekend Valentine's or not simply because Rob had a short day Friday, then the weekend, and Monday was a holiday! A nearly four day weekend?!?! What is that that you speak of? We were so excited to not shower, dress, brush our hair, answer our phones or do anything but sit on our butts and enjoy the presence of each other and the lack of anything to do.

Oh. And he woke me up to breakfast. Wasn't quite breakfast in bed but it was darn close. What a sweet, sweet man I have.



This weekend was the longest amount of time he had off since our wedding. Er, well, would have had off if he hadn't had to answer Boyd's beckoning call on Saturday. On Valentine's. Three times.

Luckily my man is about the most patient, flexible man out there and kept his calm, talked the Ellensburg customer (You know the one in Ellensburg? You know that city 150 miles away? From me? On my first Valentine's day with my husband? On a Saturday? Yeah...that one) into waiting until Tuesday, quickly fixed the issue out in Leavenworth (still 25 miles away) and on the way back stopped and dropped off coffee at the third needy place.

My Momma would be proud that I am able to look at the bright side and say it turned out alright. Even though he was gone for almost two hours, it was in the middle of the day in which I took the time to wrap his present, set the table, and try my hardest to control my excitement knowing I got to see him come in the door, our door, to me. (There is just something about watching him come home to me...)



Once my knight in shining armor returned home to me, we began the rest of our Valentine's fun. We started off with Lemon Drops which was a whole new world to me. And oh what a fun and tasty world it is. Seriously, folks. You have got to give Lemon Drops a fair chance to please your taste buds. They deserve it just as much as your favored margarita or cosmopolitan or whatever it is people drink these days.


Note: Technically, a Lemon Drop is where you take a shot of really cold Vodka, and follow it by sucking on a slice of lemon that has been dipped in sugar (see right). I tried to make my own Lemon Drop Martini (seen left) and while it was tasty, it just wasn't quite the same.

We continued our glorious nothingness whilst playing a game, doing Lemon Drops and staring at each other wondering how in the heck it had already been six months since we said "I do" all the while wondering how in the heck it had only been six months since we said "I do."

Its a rough, confusing life we lead. :)

For dinner we brought out the full meal deal (literally) and began with a delicious, mouth watering, seriously I could only eat it for the rest of my life, Baked Pecan and Honey Crusted Brei served with none other than raspberry jam and whole grain crackers. Mmm...

(Warning: No peoples lost weight in the making of this Valentine's Day.)



We entirely bypassed our planned salad. I guess we figured we were going so far overboard, why taint it with lettuce and other healthy articles? We then had T-Bone steaks covered in homemade roasted garlic, bacon, and various spices, Homemade Roasted Garlic Mashed Potatoes, and pan fried asparagus. Can you say yum? Its a good thing we were only kissing each other that night because we most assuredly had garlic on our breath.






We meant to finish off the night with our good friends recipe for "Better Than Anything* Cake" (*censored name) but a few Lemon Drops in and two extremely full bellies later, we waited to make the cake until the next day. Which is why I don't have a picture of it. Which is probably a good thing. You see, this cake is a German chocolate cake, which is taken freshly baked out of the oven, holes are punched all over, sweetened condensed milk is poured on top, then covered in caramel, whipped cream and heath bar chunks. Simply said, it is known to cause Diabetic shock merely by looking at it. (We cheated and used Oreos instead of heath bar and oh my goodness was it delicious.)

Eating in was so much more fun for us than getting all gussied up and going out to a crowded restaurant, dishing out a hundred bucks and calling it a night. Oh how I love our hermit crab lifestyle.

The thing about Valentine's Day is this; it is not the only day to pour love out on each other. It isn't the only day to buy your love gifts, to go all out on a fancy four course meal at home, to clean the house, or surprise your one and only with breakfast. It isn't the only day to kiss every three minutes, or write a sweet card. It is a wonderful, much needed reminder, however, to spoil your love. To tell them they still mean the world to you, that you still get the excited jitters when they come home, and to take time from your busy lives to focus just on each other.

And that, my friends, is exactly what we did.