A Bull in a China Shop

I've decided to begin keeping a running tally record of every item Ben breaks in this house. And then, on that wonderfully momentous day when he starts his first job and brings home his first paycheck, shortly after congratulating him and taking his picture, I'm going to hold out my hand and collect what he owes us in damaged goods and replacement costs.

And then we'll most likely be able to retire.

Trade Off

My children are both incredibly sleep sensitive. Which means that if they miss their naps or if they don't sleep as long as their overly-delicate bodies require, they turn into little children monsters. Ben becomes incredibly crazy, sometimes literally banging his head into a corner wall or experimenting with climbing up the wall. Ella becomes fussy and only comforted if I sit in a specific chair, hold her a specific way, don't move a muscle and declare from the rooftops that my whole world NOW REVOLVES AROUND HER. Also, I know for a fact they conspire ways to team up and torment their mother (because I've totally seen them "huddled up" and I'm sure Ben has some sort of power-point presentation up his sleeve that maps out the whole darn strategy. Ben is the brains behind the operation, and sweet Ella just wants to please her big brother. How did I become chopped liver in this equation? Must I remind them the number of hours I was in labor with them? Or the PAIN I endured to bring them in this world? MUST I? Because we have DVD footage of both deliveries, children. And I am NOT AFRAID to unveil them.)

***WINE BREAK***

And, exhale.

On these particular days, I can become flustered to the point of literally pulling my hair out when Dan walks through the door. Today was one of those days. If I had to grade my kids on their napping performance today, both children would score a "D+". And it's only in the generous D range because I'm writing this post-wine break. So instead of greeting Dan with a sweet hello darling this afternoon, it was something more along the lines of, "YOU MUST DO SOMETHING WITH YOUR CHILDREN."

Which I think I scared him because off the three of them went into Ben's room for a very, very long time.

But here's the thing. The bad news is that on days such as these I don't get much "down time" during the day, I don't get to enjoy a peaceful uninterrupted lunch or quiet respite before the afternoon/dinner madhouse rush. And usually on these days I choke down my dinner, battling indigestion with every bite I take as the children-monsters cry and complain and practically BEG for bedtime. Dan & I are lucky if we get one sentence in at the dinner table. Sometimes Ben is so wired-tired that he'll just fall out of his chair for no reason. You get the idea...a real Norman Rockwell kind of scenario.

And now, for the good news. It's 6:30, the children monsters have left and sleeping angels have taken their places. I'm now on my second glass of wine, the house is quiet, and Dan and I are in alone-time heaven. We're preparing to decorate the tree and have entire conversations where we will have the opportunity to complete our sentences and/or have entire thought processes. Who knows, maybe we'll even get crazy and stay up past 10.  People, stop the press because this is what we call a Christmas Miracle.

So everyone, please raise your glasses. Oh. Just me? Okay, my glass has been raised. Cheers! Here's to a new day tomorrow, where I will have the opportunity to do it all over again! I'm off to give Dan a well-deserved high five.

Nighty-night my sleeping angels. Sleep and sleep and sleep and sleep.

The New Coiffure

The other day Dan offhandedly mentioned that Ella's hair is resembling a MULLET more & more these days. First, I was offended- because even if it's slightly true, it's not something you are allowed to actually say out loud. You can't blame the poor one year-old baby who's hair is challenged in the whole growing-on-top-of-the-head department (and um, no offense my darling Dan, but maybe that is something she inherited from....you). And, please! With eyes as big and brown as hers, who has time to even notice her hair? Then my crazy Mom Panic kicked in so I began introducing her to new and exciting ways to style her little locks of baby hair. She had no idea there was a whole world of hair bands and bows just waiting to be discovered. This was my second attempt at pig-tails, and although I realize I'm slightly biased, have you ever seen anything cuter in your life? And the two of them together? Playing "Mommy & Daddy"? I'm downright smitten with the whole darn thing. Mullet no more!

A Perfectly Logical Explaination

Ben has been uncharacteristically mellow this morning. He's done a couple of unsual things, including sleeping in and requesting me to "cuddle up" with him (as opposed to the reverse). Of course, with it being a chilly morning at the height of flu season, this had me a little worried and suspicious. Here's what just happened:

Me: Buddy, are you feeling okay? Is everything alright?
Ben: (in a very unconvincing tone) Yes.....
Me: Are you sure?
Ben: Well, it's just that I'm having a hard time.
Me: (my panic increasing) Why? Does your tummy hurt? Do you have a sore throat? Is your body achey?
Ben: No....it's just that.....
Me: Sweetie, what is it?
Ben: I'm just so, so, so tired.
Me: Okay, well why do you think it is, buddy? Do you feel sick?
Ben: No. It's just that I feel like I'm going to have a baby really soon.
Me: Oh! Well....that really explains...everything. (Breathe sigh of relief)

Tis The Season (For Soup)

It's borderline FREEZING around here (my toes are on the verge of hypothermia, I'm just sure of it...), and of course we're on the "economically-friendly" heating plan in this house. Which means we walk around bundled in multiple layers, sporting big bulky socks and sweaters, and practically watch our breath puff out with every word we utter. Then we wait for the house to drop to 60 degrees, at which point the heater kicks in and begins defrosting little fingers and toes. So, it's not surprising that lately all I can think about is soup. And if my family would let me, I'd make a wide variety of soups all week long. But they keep insisting I focus on other foods, like breakfast and lunch, too. Luckily for me, we've got some big rain storms approaching in our forecast, so it seems appropriate to be in this soup phase. And I feel like I'm doing my family a huge favor by serving them up big steaming bowls of soup.

I thought I'd share one of my favorite and easiest go-to soup recipes-- it's incredibly delicious and easy on the pocket book, too (which is why I named it what I did)! Usually I'm not a huge fan of using canned foods because I love, prefer & encourage using fresh ingredients, but this soup is perfect for a long busy day because it can be ready as quickly as 10 minutes. And since it's paired with fresh garlic and fresh basil, you would never guess it wasn't all prepared from scratch. (Wow, that sounded dangerously close to something that goon from the Food Network, Sandra Lee, would say....)

*Fun variations: try throwing in some Italian sausage in there, or mini raviolis or tortellini. Or some sort of whole grain, such as barley. I also like to add sliced zucchini or green beans. Bottom line: use this recipe as your base, and then throw in whatever the heck sounds good to you. 

"Poor Woman Soup"

Ingredients:
1 can whole plum tomatoes (with basil, if possible- T.J.'s sells it)
1 can diced tomatoes
2 cans Cannellini beans (white Italian kidney beans)
1 large onion, chopped
3-4 cloves garlic, crushed
1 cup fresh basil, chopped
1 cup parmesan
3 T. olive oil
1 carton low-sodium chicken or vegetable stock (about 4 cups)
1 loaf stale bread, cubed
Salt & pepper, to taste

Directions:
In a large pot, add olive oil and saute garlic and onions. Add both cans of tomatoes and stir to combine. Add chicken (or vegetable) stock. When soup comes to a slow simmer, add cubed bread and cannellini beans and half of the chopped basil. Season to taste with salt & pepper. When serving soup, top with other half of the chopped basil, parmesan cheese and shot of olive oil on top.

Happy Soup!

Little Ears

For well over a year now, I've been diligently reminding Dan (and occasionally myself) the heightened importance of watching every single word that we utter in Ben's presence. Ben simply picks up on everything that is said these days, especially the occasional "slip-up" (gasp!) or less than flattering words that sporadically enter our vocabulary on a day-to-day basis. This self-censorship is a necessary (but painful) learned parental skill, and although Dan has certainly improved over the years when determining what is and is not appropriate to say in the presence of our 3.5 year old, there is still room for improvement. Which is precisely why I gave Dan the evil eye look of death when, one recent morning, Ben decided his new favorite thing to say to me is:

"Just don't freak out, Babe!"

This is absurd (and admittedly, kindda funny) on many levels. Not only is my son now referring to me as "babe", but now he's ordering me to not freak out sometimes several times a day. Ah, how precious. His first Father-ism. I'm bracing myself for the day he turns to me asks me to bring him a "cold one".

A Brief Moment On The Soapbox

Dan & I finally watched the recently released DVD, Food, Inc. For those of you who haven't seen it or heard of it, it's a riveting documentary where the filmmaker's hope is to "lift the veil" on our nation's food history and present day circumstances and expose the governmental and corporate control that is held on our food sources and supply. (Incidentally, it's also been nominated for the 2010 Indie Film Spirit Awards.) It's unflattering, it's scary, it's infuriating and so incredibly important for us to see.

In short, we were completely fascinated- and utterly shocked by what we learned in this film. At times it was painful to even watch. I'm not usually one to get on a bandwagon and yell my 2 cents from the rooftop, but it is not an exaggeration to say that this film has truly changed me and the way that I feel about what we eat and how it's produced. It has forced both Dan & I to take a long hard look at what we're eating, and most importantly, what we're feeding our children. It has also fostered a new hope in consumers, empowering those who care enough to turn the tables, to realize we have a voice and we can make the changes that need to happen. By no means am I trying to subtly suggest taking radical or drastic measures- as far as I know, we are not making any abrupt conversions to vegetarianism. (Because Lord knows how I love me some pork.....). But I do encourage, even beg of you to watch this film and do what you feel is best for you and your loved ones. I am so grateful we did.

If you want to take baby steps towards getting involved, here are 10 simple things you can do to change our food system. Or you can visit Take Part to learn even more.

If that hasn't lured you in yet, then here's the movie's trailer for your viewing information:

A Week In Review

We had a great Thanksgiving Break. It's holidays such as these that make me truly grateful for Dan's job as a teacher and that fortunate break schedule of his! He was off work and home to help the day before Thanksgiving, and people, let me tell you...I needed every last minute to get my act together. Because, yes. I tend to be a wait til the last minute type of gal. Dan & I initially offered to "host" this year, but then we panicked when the numbers kept increasing (and by "panic", I mean a vary grateful, happy panic- we loved having all 22 people be a part of the celebration this year!) AND, we kept thinking about all of the carpeting and lack of tile flooring in our house, and well...it made my palms sweaty just thinking about it. So, we moved the party to good ol' Mom & Dad's house and combined efforts. This proved to be a very wise decision. I also heavily delegated everything this year and my awesome family, as per usual, stepped it up and contributed above and beyond their call of duty. And look how amazing it all turned out!

The dinner table:

Here is the "funny" part of this posting where I do a very un-Nicole thing and break down how I embraced my new-found table craftiness. This year I dabbled in the world of Martha Stewart's decor ideas and although she didn't give me this exact idea (she used pears- soooooo "expected"), she was definitely the inspiration behind it. I took persimmons from the giant persimmon orchard on my parents property and used these for place card settings. Not only was this beautiful with all the orange screaming "HAPPY THANKSGIVING", but it was also free! I cut out chocolate brown leaves using card stock, punched a hold in it, and tied it with twine onto the persimmon stem. I wrote each person's name on the leaf and voila! Place cards telling everyone where to park themselves!

Honestly, figuring out who to put where at the table proved to be a more difficult task then my fancy-schmancy place card set-up.

There was lots of family lovin'. Here, Josh (a.k.a. Turkey BBQ chef) & Miss Mia snuggle in between turkey bastings.

 

The best part about Mimi & Papa's house is that the grandkids love to pile in their room/on their bed and cozy up together to watch movies. Here, 5 of the 7 grandkids were captured cuddled up, mesmerized by some Tom & Jerry, Thanksgiving style.

Geno, Isabel and Ben:

Mia and Ava:

 

Unfortunately, I didn't get any pictures of the whole Thanksgiving spread because I was too busy chasing my kids and my wine glass around and getting last minute details together, but I did get a nice head shot of the bird. All almost 24 pounds of her. And at this point, I know you're probably all on turkey overload and slightly tired of any turkey visuals that might remind you of the week's worth of calories you may have ingested in one sitting. (and to be honest, even I gagged a little bit when I saw this picture). But let's give credit where credit is due- and let me just say, ours truly was G-O-O-D.

Here's the proud turkey chef, my brother Josh, gloating in his BBQ turkey success. I'll admit, I wasn't too sure how it would all turn out, this whole "BBQ turkey" thing. I mean, who BBQ's their turkey? We did. It didn't cook as fast as he was hoping for, but I won't even mention the fact that we had to eat almost three hours later than we had planned. Because it was so moist and delicious and not at all smokey (as I was worried it would be) that it was well worth the wait. Well done, Josh. You've made a believer out of me.

Here's Favi, who made up half of "Team Gravy". (I was the other half but couldn't figure out how to take a picture of us working so earnestly on our roux.) Lots of whisking- and look! Her arms are whisking so fast, they're blurry!

The night ended with three varieties of pie and our first Christmas movie of the year, Elf. Nothing says Merry Christmas quite like spending Thanksgiving evening with Will Ferrell.

After all that eating together, the family decided we needed to have an active outing. So we all left the kiddos at home, headed up to Stanford for their last game of the season against Notre Dame and sat and watched a fantastic game (for the record: Stanford won). It was pretty chilly (relatively speaking, I know. Overlook that, Edith) so we bundled up and thoroughly enjoyed Mom & Dad's new wool blanket. I also thoroughly enjoyed my recession-unfriendly $5 hot dog. Somehow Dad is barely in the picture (we should fire our photographer), but everyone else made it in.

 

When the game was over, the crowd went bananas and charged the field. It was pretty great to watch. I thought about going down there myself, but then my claustrophobia set in, so I watched from the comfort of my seat.

It really was a great week. Thank you, family, for being so much fun to be with and for your expertise on having a good time. I am thankful, most of all, for you.

And in case you were secretly hoping for some recent Dewig Family pictures (minus me, as I seem to be the only one inspired to actually TAKE the pictures...), here you go:

 

 

 

Thanksgiving Aftermath

There are many things that can be said about our Thanksgiving holiday experience this year. I have some wonderful little stories, some priceless photo documentation, and some personal thankful reflections, all of which I hope to write about sometime in the near future. But for right now, while it is still freshly imprinted on my heart, I had to share what unfolded not 5 minutes ago.

As I was kissing and hugging (and kissing & hugging and kissing & hugging...) Ben goodnight, he pulled away, looked me right in the eyes and with his little brow furrowed, exclaimed:

"Mama, so many days and so many nights, I still just love you."

That is what I am most thankful for at this very moment, and I have my suspicions that this feeling, along with the remnants from tonight's amazing leftovers, will be with me a very long time.

Duped

The marketing folks at Starbucks are clever people, because my day-to-day allegiance does not even reside with them (my heart is and always will belong to Peet's), but today I was putty in their hands. I was walking by our local Starbucks minding my own business when I looked in through the large window and saw handfuls of customers inside, bundled up and avoiding the chill in the air, reading, chatting, drinking their lattes and web surfing. I'm a sucker for scenarios such as this- it's a well-known fact I love all things cozy. However, I was bound and determined to keep moving onto my destination and stay in a mode of productivity. But DARN IT ALL! Those adorable Starbucks red paper cups of holiday cheer that they use this time of year stopped me dead in my tracks. Suddenly, I was desperate for an Eggnog latte in a cute red paper cup, and nothing else would suffice. Whoever said money can't buy happiness isn't entirely correct, or perhaps they've never treated themselves to the holiday eggnog latte drink. Because $3.60 later, I am incredibly happy. And call me easy to please, but I just adore my little red cup. Real slick, Starbucks.

(Almost) Lost in Translation

This morning, at breakfast table:

Ben: Mommy, why was that one daddy guy holding that baby and putting soil on her face? Remember?
Me (ever so perplexed): What, buddy? Soil? When?
Ben: When we went to church!
Me: Just the other day?
Ben: Yeah. Remember, there was the baby, and the soil? And on her head....
(*This continues for many more minutes, back and forth until....)
Me: Sweetie, I'm not sure what you're saying. Are you sure you know what soil is? Maybe you mean "SOUL"! Do you mean "soul"? (Because the word "soul" is obviously more likely to have been said during mass than "soil").
Ben: NOOOO! You know, SOIL on her HEAD? When that baby was getting APPETIZED?
Me: Ohhhhhh. I get it now. You are asking about the oil that was put on her head when she was getting baptized. Wow. You are one observant little Mister. And I will answer your question as soon as I quickly document and blog about this adorable moment.

And now if you'll excuse me, I need to begin Googling "soil on head + appetized + mass" and come up with some concrete answers for an unrelenting precocious 3-1/2 year old . I feel like I've just been given a pop quiz.

It's Hard to Stay Out Past 10

It's not often I get out on a weekend night to have some good old-fashioned "girls night fun", so when the opportunity presented itself last night, I was more than ready to paint the town red. I got out of my sweats, threw on jeans, earrings and cute shoes. I was ready to sport the new haircut I'd received just hours before. I even applied two coats of mascara. However, two cucumber mojitos and one fantastic grilled portobello sandwich dinner later, I was rapidly losing my momentum as visions of my lonely warm and cozy bed danced through my head. My eyelids were getting heavy, my body in all of its satiated bliss was moving slowly, and my  toes were freezing. I was even battling the beginning signs of a scratchy sore throat. After walking aimlessly for a few minutes desperately trying to find the inner strength to sustain my "party" mode, I came up with what I thought was the perfect business proposition and began thinking outloud:

You know what would be awesome? Some sort of lounge/pub/restaurant, where the required dress code would be pajamas. Instead of high heels, everyone would be in cozy socks. It would be a comforting room with large soft couches. It would be completely appropriate to lie down, or talk with friends, or read a great book off in the corner. There would be candles lit everywhere, soft low lighting, multiple fireplaces with roaring warm fires crackling, classical music playing, down blankets available to all customers, and hot chocolate with marshmallows would be the drink special of the evening. I would TOTALLY go there right now.

To which my footloose and fancy-free sister, 7 years younger than I, rolled her eyes and responded, "Nicole, that place is called home."

Party on.

Winds of Change

Image by sarniebill1 via Flickr

Thank you, legendary 80s band Scorpions. Because of you and your killer one-hit wonder song, I have an appropriate title for my post today.

The winds of change have been blowing around or perhaps just directly on me because in the last week I have done the following life-altering things:

• Weaned the baby girl. On her birthday, to boot. I was fully prepared to breastfeed her for as long as she wanted, but then her crazy sharp teeth got involved, and subsequently deep (and incredibly painful) teeth marks were being left on my innocent flesh. I took that as a sign to wrap things up in the breastfeeding department. For the most part, it appears to have gone unnoticed, and she seems fine with this change. Sometimes she gets angry and yells at me a little bit, and we're not able to lay down together in my bed anymore (though I'm sure we'll be able to in a few weeks time), but thankfully she is very passionate about her sippy cup and boy oh boy, can that girl chug down some water! It's bittersweet- of course I miss that cozy time with her and I find that I'm asking myself 100 times a day "where did the time go?", but ultimately- I have my boobs back, and therefore quite a bit more freedom (cue George Michael's Freedom).
  
• Weaning the baby girl = no more excuses to NOT join a gym. So I did! This has been one of the most monumental decisions of the past 4 years, and I don't mean that lightly. Something has clicked inside of me, and I knew that starting this "getting healthy" journey I'm embarking upon would not be legitimate until I was able to get to a place of No More Excuses. I've loved every second (more or less) of being a mommy these last 4 years, but I'm ready to take a step back and begin taking care of myself, nurturing myself, giving myself an outlet. I truly believe the greatest gift I can give those two precious children of mine is to take care of their Mama. I've begun the journey and it truly feels great. Next on the list: get pedicure for the first time in over a year.
• On a side note: workout equipment and general gym culture have really changed in the last 4 years. Machines are more complicated, and people seem to be much more paranoid about their peers' sweat and germs. Bringing your own towel is of the utmost importance. Disinfecting your own equipment is standard protocol. Wearing your sports bra ONLY (as opposed to my "old school" standard of under my shirt) seems to be the new norm. I have also learned that working out in front of a TV (namely, The Ellen show) really speeds things up. Also, any cocky attitude I had was destroyed that first day the moment I attempted the stairmaster machine on anything over a level 1. Climbing flights and flights of stairs is serious business, and I plan on throwing a party the day I can advance past a level 3 on that machine.
  
• Ben has twice in the last week attempted to take care of me with such intense concern for my well-being, I couldn't not include it on this list. Exhibit A: After I let out a giant yawn and sigh, Ben immediately looked at me and said,

"It's okay, Mommy. It's okay. I know you're really tired. Don't worry, we're going to go to bed really soon. It's okay Mommy. Everything will be fine."

Exhibit B: After overhearing me complain of sore working out muscles and bones, Ben said,  "Mommy, don't worry. I'm going to take good care of you and you will feel all better." When did he learn along the way that that's all a girl ever needs to hear?

• Went to the girly doctor. You know....to have that ONE procedure done. The one that sort of rhymes with "cap sneer". The one that's supposed to occur annually, but never really does (or at least, not in my world, as I'm a master of procrastination).  Oh man, was I ever apprehensive. I had the nervous sweaty palm sweats and everything. Also, I was way too overly excited to see my doctor when she walked in, which I hope she interpreted as flattering, but really could have been interpreted as ultra creepy. Who tells their Gyno, "It's SO GREAT to see you again!" and then beams with smiles and giggles? Who? Me, that's who. Anyway, I'm looking forward to twelve whole months of not having to do THAT again. (And for the record- my doctor's office covers the stirrups on that dreadful table with oven mits, which I find hilarious and bizarre. And somehow this makes me cringe just a teensy bit each time I take something out of my oven).
• As a result of said doctor's appointment, I unexpectedly had my blood drawn for routine tests. This experience alone deserves its very own blog posting because the chain of events that occurred during this proceedure were some of the most hilarious and uncomfortable moments of my life. I'll just say this: my incredibly small, child-like, almost non-existent veins + my intense fear of needles + my tendency to black out because of heightened nerves because of fear of needles + very sweet but very inexperienced and bubbleheaded phlebotomist = 1 of 5 attempts successful and sore, bruised arms with lots of needle holes. Definitely not the highlight of my week.
 

Speaking of the highlight of my week, I've got a down blanket, a great book, and a tall mug of hot chocolate waiting for me, a husband out, and two children and one dog sound asleep.

The perfect Friday night.

A Big Day

November 6th is a significant day in our household. Five years ago today I married my best friend, and one year ago today, I gave birth to my baby girl. Both of these events are hugely tremendous independently of each other, so the combination of both in one day is overwhelming, to say the least. It's difficult for me to even know where to begin explaining how precious both of these events are to my heart. In light of that, and for the sake of the length of this blog, and for the sake of everyone's attention span involved, I'll break the two up. Otherwise we could be here all weekend long recounting the events and revisiting all the photos that made this day so special...twice over.

Let's start at the very beginning...long before Ella was even a twinkle in Dan's eye.

Dan and I met in early 2002. Some of the initial details are fuzzy, but I vividly recall a moment we shared very early on- perhaps our second meeting- where he tried to lean in and hug me. I happened to be leaning up against something and I misunderstood his gesture completely, thinking he was grabbing something behind me. So naturally, I moved out of the way. And he leaned in my ear and had to correct me, "Um, I'm hugging you". Oh. How nice. He's hugging me. If this wasn't so awkward, it would really be quite sweet.

And there it was: the beginning of a very clumsy little relationship. And then one Saturday afternoon in March of 2004, after getting new tires put on my car and having a great lunch at Santa Cruz Diner, he proposed. Got down on one knee and everything. We were in my apartment when he suddenly walked out, went to his truck, and came back inside with my beautiful BLING ring! I was shocked. I screamed a lot. His proposal was very simple, sweet, heartfelt and a complete surprise. He melted my heart into a puddle of butter.

And then, 8 months later, he made me a Bride:

My very pretty beaded satin princess dress.

A very nervous groom. Can you imagine? Who would be nervous to marry ME?

 Although I was originally terrified to do it, I had no idea walking down an aisle to meet my best friend would be so much fun! I wanted to run back up and do it all over again. But I didn't. Instead, we exchanged vows and had a very traditional (Italian) Catholic wedding mass. It was beautiful and quite long.

Here's my Dad, giving me away. We cried when we saw each other.

Look at these pretty ladies!

We did it! And nobody passed out or objected!

Here we are thinking, "Wow! So far, the first 30 seconds of being married is WONDERFUL!"

Now this was true marital bliss. Also in the back of my mind was the excitement and anticipation of tasting the food we'd been planning and talking about for months. (It was fabulous.)

This was our cake. We went with the Carrot Cake option, and loved every crumb. Not many people have the fortitude to serve Carrot Cake at their wedding, but we fell in love with it at our "cake sampling" appointment and couldn't get it off our minds. And truth be told, you can't really go wrong with a bakery called The Buttery, can you?

People toasted us and we drank champagne.

There was a fantastic live band. They were loud and we even got some noise complaints....the ultimate indication of a really great party.

I danced with my daddy

And then I danced with my new husband

 And then I just DANCED.

 

And so did everyone else.

I'm not even sure what's going on here:

And while we're at it, this one's pretty awesome, too:

A surprise performance by the Hi-Tone Sinners, (check out my new hot hubby, busting out the awesome bass lines!)

The happy and entertained wedding guests/audience (and the proud bride):

My sister, the Maid of Honor, catching the boquet. (Yes, it was completely rigged. Also, check out my friend Alicia, right behind her, putting in an effort worthy of a honorable mention.)

Then we drank more wine and danced until I finally looked at my handsome new husband with weary wedding eyes and said, "I'm done. I can't be in this heavy dress one minute longer, and my feet can't stand up anymore.Take me home, baby."

Then we hopped onto his white horse and rode off into the sunset. And we've lived happily ever after since.

The End.

Happy Anniversary, babe! The last 5 years have been amazing. So much has changed since that beautiful day- my waistline and your receding hairline for starters. Five houses, one dog and two children later, I realize that sometimes we need to just stop and take a breath and look at all we've accomplished together. We make such a great team, and I'm so happy to be on this journey with you. Thank you for making me want to be a better person, thank you for how incredibly unselfish you are, thank you for working hard for our family, and most of all, thank you for our two beautiful children. I am loving growing old with you. My heart is yours, forever.