Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Sit back. Relax! It’s story time.
Ok, so once upon a time, I got a U.T.I.
Don’t know what that is? It’s ok. It’s a Urinary Tract Infection.
You see, I have been married for 3 years. Prior to this time? I had NEVER had a UTI.
But when I got married and began having…ahem…intimate times, I started to get them.
My body said: “Hey, how about you DON’T keep introducing new bacteria to me, k?”
Too bad I didn’t agree with that request because ‘intimate times’ are just too important. And fun. Ahem.
ANYWAY. Moving right along.
So just this past week, I got a freakin UTI. And I could tell a whole story about how awful it was and how it almost killed me and how I collapsed on the ground sobbing my heart out while simultaneously screaming about the intense pain while Brandon looked on trying to figure out what to do.
But that would be a lame and sad story.
So I’ll tell you the humorous aspect of the UTI instead.
I did not want to go to the doctor.
Doctor’s appointments are expensive, and remember I am getting my masters so I’m broke??? Right.
So, I decided that I knew it was a UTI, because I’ve had them for the past few years and recognize the symptoms (you know, the intense burning when you pee, the urge to go every 4 seconds, blah blah blah).
So what did I do? I decide to try to kill the bacteria with natural means.
What normally kills bacteria? Garlic.
I decide I will just take 40000 garlic pills in the morning and then again at night to try to kill the bacteria.
And I do this for 5 days.
If you weren’t living under a rock recently, you are aware the garlic has QUITE the stench to it.
Magically, that stench started to pour out of my pores.
(Yes, you are correct in assuming that I definitely made new wonderful friends and acquaintances during this time. Who doesn’t want a friend who wears eau de garlic??)
So I figure that even though I reek like an elephant just pooped on itself, its ok because I am killing my UTI, right?
Not only am I not killing my UTI, but I stink. Bad.
Enter Brandon into the story.
One night, I am sleeping in bliss and the man said that he woke up because all of a sudden the nastiest smell on planet earth wafted over to his nose.
Do you know what that smell was? My garlic breath.
Yes, Yes. I know. I am the sexiest person EVER.
How can a smell be so strong as to wake someone up?
I don’t know. But I do know that I did take 10 garlic before I went to bed that evening.
The next night?
He wakes up again.
But this time it wasn’t my breath. It was my armpit.
Remember how I was trying a new natural deodorant?
Yes. Well apparently I flopped my armpit up with such velocity that the garlic wind woke Brandon up from his dead sleep.
I seriously have no idea why this man is still married to me.
I feel very badly for him.
The worst part is that at the end of this story? I still had to give in and go to a doctor and get an antibiotic.
All those garlics did not kill my UTI.
How would the lives that surround me change if I spent more time in prayer?
These are questions I have been asking myself lately.
Yes, I pray.
Do I pray enough? Absolutely not.
As I’ve discussed before, I am so selfish. Often I become so wrapped up in the ‘daily cares of this life’ to ever step outside myself to talk to my Heavenly Father.
All. The. Time.
So what is my problem??
I know how powerful prayer can be.
Afterall, the Bible tells us that we can have confidence approaching God that He will hear our prayers. And that if we know that He hears us, “whatever we ask, we know that we have what we asked of Him” (1 John 5:14-15).
Those are some powerful words that demonstrate how effective prayer can be.
God. The Creator of the Universe. Cares About My Prayers. Wants to Hear From Me. Loves When I Bring My Requests Before Him. Loves To Hear My Heart.
So why do I hesitate?
It is easier to just focus on all the many, many responsibilities I have.
This keeps me from just sitting. And waiting. And talking to God.
Which is ridiculous.
Because if this life is about ANYTHING, it is about Christ.
He is what gives me purpose and meaning.
He is who gave me this life, and could take it away in the time it would take for me to blink just once.
He is the one who I will spend eternity with.
Will my masters follow me into eternity? No. Will my money follow me into eternity? No. Will my exhaustion follow me into eternity? No.
Nothing else matters but my relationship with Christ, and yet that is the thing that I neglect the most.
I get so caught up in work, finances, stress, etc. that I am missing out on the most important part of my life!
Prayer brings me closer to Him and helps me know His will for my life as well as allows me to see His love and heart for all the people around me.
Obviously, I need to do some reevaluating of my time.
How about you guys? How do you make sure you are spending time in prayer each day?
I need some new ideas. I need some refreshment. I need revival…
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Anyone who has ever known me has known that I am loud.
Now, yes. Maybe some of this has to do with the fact that I am partially deaf.
Maybe I can’t hear myself being loud.
I enjoy being loud. I feel like I alone can bring the PARRR---TAYYY with me wherever I go.
And other times?
It’s just awkward.
My husband likes to remind me of this when we are in stores.
I will be all chatty and talking loudly like: “Brandon, don’t you think that woman’s hair is an odd shade of blonde?”
He walks away like he doesn’t know me.
I wish I was joking.
He really does walk away and pretend like he doesn’t know me.
So rude, people. So rude.
If the man could turn 10 shades of red? He would. Luckily for him, his skin color hides his embarrassment so he really can pretend like he has no clue.
But besides my husband’s reactions to me being loud, I also have become increasingly aware of my ‘loud issues’ because of the people I nanny for.
Well, he is a VERY rambunctious little boy, to the chagrin of his parents.
He and I are two peas in a pod.
I seriously LOVE getting him all riled up because it is fun for the both of us and helps him get his energy out. Plus, when I need him to calm down to do homework, I can easily accomplish that goal (or else I probably wouldn’t do it…I’m not dumb people! I don’t want to make my job harder than necessary!!)
The problem being that his parents like a very quiet house.
As soon as they walk in, I try to calm him down and remind him to use his ‘indoor voice.’
However, at that point I have often riled him up enough that he can’t calm himself down, so his parents walk in the door, and the majority of the time their first words to him are “shhh” or “J! Use your indoor voice!!!”
I’m only cognizant about half of the time that I have even contributed to his ‘loud issues’ because I am so naturally loud myself.
I sometimes laugh to myself when I imagine his immediate family sitting together at the end of the day vs. when my mom, sister and I get together.
At my house? A lot of talking over one another, a lot of joking and making fun of one another. Which of course gets loud, especially when stories start being told about one another.
So see people, I can’t be totally blamed for my lack of volume control.
So I guess I will continue to make J into a loud child and embarrass the crap out of Brandon.
Ahhhh…how sweet life is.
My very very loud, sweet life.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Ok, Ok. I know! You’re thinking: “Recently? Haven’t you always been overwhelmed with school?” Touche, Touche.
On the days where I just can’t handle one more freaking paper or one more chapter of a textbook to read, I look for distractions.
Lately those distractions have come in the form of reading books for fun.
I know, I make no sense.
Brandon cannot understand why I would escape reading by reading.
But people! It makes sense!
When you read for pleasure, the book is exciting. You are getting to escape to another world and live somewhere else for a bit where masters-level homework and deadlines aren’t breathing down your neck.
I choose simple, easy to read books.
Which is what lead me to Twilight.
Please, people. No judging.
I recognize Twilight series is a teen-series.
I also realize that it is completely ridiculous and filled with vampires and werewolves, and blah blah blah.
I get it.
I also think it is all jibberish.
But did I read the whole series with ferocity?
Again, no judging.
But the whole time I was reading the books, I was getting SO irritated at stupid Bella.
I mean, can someone PLEASE explain this to me?
Why in the world does she choose Edward?
Lets make the comparisons and you tell me who YOU would decide.
3. Is thin and weird looking
4.Is a vampire who thinks about sucking your blood
5. Has a desire to suck other peoples blood
6. Can’t have normal children with
7. Bella is serious all the time with him
1. Bronzed (As he is Native American)
2. Warm-blooded (he at least is half human)
3. Is extremely buff
4. Has no desire to suck your blood
5. Protects people from vampires (and therefore has no desire to suck other people’s blood either)
6. Could have a normal family with if you married him
7. Brings out Bella’s goofy side (who wants to be serious all the time?
I mean really, people. I see no comparison. I am creeped out by Bella’s strange obsession for being with a vampire.
Especially when Jacob is so much cooler.
If you aren’t convinced, maybe you should be shown proof:
Creepy, Sparkly Vampire Edward (above)
Non-Creepy, Non-Sparkly, Non-Vampire Jacob
(photo taken from www.digitalcitizen.ca)
If I was the author? That would’ve been who she would’ve ended up with.
But again…if I was the author? I wouldn’t have written a whole series about vampires either.
So I would ask you to join "Team Jacob" with me, but quite honestly? I don't really give a crap. The books were just 'alright'.
But....Will I still watch the rest of the movies? Yep.
It's some weird thing of mine. Once I start something, I have to finish it. Even if I don't like it. I have a problem.
But I am still not going to apologize for it.
I feel like people always apologize when their readers expected something from them and they didn’t deliver (such as me not posting yesterday for Manna Monday).
But here’s the thing: This blog is just a place for me! So, dear readers, though I love you a lot…if I mess up and don’t post when I’m supposed to or don’t post near as frequently as I would like, I won’t apologize!
I am tempted to feel guilty, but I don’t want to feel guilt over something that is supposed to be recreational and fun (this blog!)
So thanks for sticking around even when I don’t fulfill all of my expectations for myself.
And for accepting my *non* apology!:)
Now that that’s out of the way, I DO have a Manna Monday post for you.
And here it is:
Recently, we had a big change in our household.
Things shifted, and it felt like everything was different. Because it was.
As a result, I realized that I was worrying excessively.
The type of worry that keeps you up at night concerned about a person, though from where you are in your bed, there is nothing you can do to help that person.
Which is really what got me thinking.
Why is it SO hard for us to not worry?
We are instructed not to worry in the Bible…
25"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? 26Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life[b]?
28"And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 30If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? 31So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' 32For the unbelievers run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. 33But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
My favorite portion of that text is where it says: “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”
It really is a reminder to simply focus on the here and now.
And trust the Lord for the rest!
If I would just have the smallest amount of faith that who He said He was He really was, and what He said He would do He would really do, then why would I have to worry at all?
I need to believe that God is going to supply ALL of my needs, so what am I doing worrying?
“Needs” aren’t only physical, mind you.
“Needs” are ANYTHING that is a need at the time.
So what in the world am I worried about?
Instead, I need to just turn it over to Him.
I know He always has my best interest in mind, so why do I even bother worrying? Yes, sometimes that ‘best interest’ can be painful, but is there not always a purpose for pain?
Can we not grow from it?
Do we not become changed by it?
So again, I remind myself: “Why worry?”
The Lord knows my life and the plans for it…so I need to just let it go….
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Ok, maybe it never really happened. I think I was just born this way.
In fact, my mom always reminds me that we used to ‘live’ in the hospital when I was younger because I got hurt so often.
But people? These past few days have been r-o-u-g-h.
It started out on Monday. I decided I was going to make some tuna salad.
So Elizabeth is all excited opening the can, la-de-la, and then SLIICEEEEE the back of my middle finger runs all along the sharp edge of the can.
Immediately my finger starts bleeding excessively.
I am screaming: “frick, frick, frick, frick, FRICK, OH FRICKER, FRICKER, frick” as I run my hand under the water.
Brandon knows I’ve hurt myself, so he comes out to see if he can help.
I am too busy saying: “Frick” to respond, so he goes and gets me a bandaid and Neosporin, since we all know that tuna in a wound? Is bound to get infected.
Great and grand, right?
Later, I am in the kitchen and cutting some vegetables. SLICE. A huge gash gets cut all across my freakin finger.
Again, more blood. Another bandaid. More ‘fricks.’
5 minutes later…
I reach for some saran wrap. SLICE. Glide my hand all along the sharp edge.
MORE BLOOD. MORE BANDAIDS. MORE ‘FRICKS.’
10 minutes later…
Walking in the kitchen and catch my pinky toe on the corner to the counter. Bend it back so far I am sure it is broken.
I hop around the kitchen like a squaking bird, while saying (you guessed it) “FRICKEEERRRRRR!!!!!”
30 minutes later…
I drop a chair on my foot and scrape it up with the metal piece on the chair. More blood. More bandaids.
This time? I cuss for real in my head (sorry, Jesus:( )
ARE YOU JOKING ME?
5 wounds in an hour.
I am all bloody and wounded and crippled now with all my pain. I can’t use my hands or my feet so I am walking around mangled and unable to perform simple tasks.
I know, you are questioning how this is possible.
Please hold your questioning.
It gets worse.
The next day comes.
I am at work.
I go outside to bring in the deliveries.
But on the way back in? I miscalculate where the box ends and my hand begins. Do you know that I freaking SLAM my finger which was sliced by the tuna can into the door?
It immediately re-opens the wound and starts gushing blood.
I am in so much pain it’s unreal.
30 minutes pass.
I am in the kitchen slicing onions on the cutting board.
The cutting board slips and WHAM. The full force of the corner of it slams into my big toe.
OH MY GOODNESS.
Tears spring immediately to my eyes.
I am in so much pain it is ridiculous.
I literally walked around the kitchen for 30 minutes crying.
When I finally had enough guts to look down at my toe, it was as I had feared: The entire thing was black and blue.
So in a few weeks? I probably will be without a toenail.
It will fall off.
And my toe can look as mangled as my bitten-off nails of my mutant elf-hands.
I get into the car to try to drive, and guess what?
I drive a stick shift.
Can I shift? No.
Pain is shooting up my leg.
But, alas, I have to drive home.
I grit my teeth and try to breathe through the pain. Every time I shift gears? I scream “Ow!” into my car.
I pull into a parking lot and am screaming “Ow! This hurts! Oh frick! OW!!!”
If any of you have ever been walking by someone while they are in the car, you know that cars are not sound proof.
Needless to say, I frightened several passer-bys.
Currently? I am so bandaged up that my fingers and toes are non-existent: just bandages.
Oh my word.
Is anyone else this freaking clumsy????? Or am I the only one with apparently terrible gross motor skills???
Monday, September 13, 2010
It is a little reminder to us all…
St. Francis of Assisi:
“Preach the Gospel at all times and when necessary, use words.”
Saturday, September 11, 2010
The day was filled with poignant speakers, who really brought several issues to light.
If you remember, I am a social worker. Much of my job is to advocate for the rights of the oppressed in this society, as well as help support them through healing.
Therefore, this conference was an excellent resource for me.
And because several issues discussed were extremely relevant to all of us, I realized that I could not keep this information to myself.
You do not need to be a social worker to act on behalf of victims.
I hope that right now you will not walk away from this post, but stay for a bit.
Take a journey with me into the lives of victims and allow yourself to be moved.
To be changed.
To spur yourself on to action….
The keynote speaker was named E. Benjamin Skinner, who is the author of the book A Crime So Monstrous: Face to Face With Modern Day Slavery. I’ve not read it yet, but after hearing him speak? I will be purchasing it.
Take a moment to imagine some the most atrocious times that have been documented in the history of the world.
Slavery should pop into your mind.
Mr. Skinner started out his speech today with this staggering fact: There are more slaves in the world today than there has ever been before (the percentage is lower in relation to the population, but the numbers are higher).
Wow. Thought slavery was dead? You were dead wrong.
He then goes on to explain some of his own encounters with human traffickers.
In Port-Au-Prince, he was offered a ten year old girl for a mere $50.
I know you know a ten year old.
Imagine her life being worth only $50 to someone.
Fifty dollars. A little girl with laughter, a personality, a heart that feels fear, a mind that has deep thoughts, who probably had dreams for her life. A human being.
He then describes the life of thousands of street children, mostly boys, (some as young as 5) who were selling unprotected sex for a mere $1.75 just so they could eat for the day.
In another country, he describes young girls being brought into sexual slavery as prostitutes.
In one heart-breaking moment, he visited one of the places where the slaves are housed.
On the bottom floor of the building, the rooms are infested with the girls’ handlers. They remain there to protect their ‘merchandise’.
On the second floor is an illegal abortion clinic. Not only are these girls forced (by violence or mental manipulation) to remain in slavery, but are experiencing the heart wrenching physical and emotional aftereffects of an abortion.
On the third floor are the girls themselves. Some are expected to perform sex and sexual acts on at least 25 men a day.
When I picture this place, all I can imagine is a cloud of darkness covering it.
But then Mr. Skinner discusses America.
Yes, it may seem that slavery is worlds away.
It is not.
Several news articles were discussed wherein THOUSANDS of slaves were revealed to be right.here.in.the.U.S.
It is not an overseas problem.
It is not a third-world problem.
It is a humanity problem.
There are slaves in every country in the world, and we cannot walk away and ignore them.
I encourage you (and myself) to get involved.
Here are several organizations which are designed to reach out and abolish modern day slavery:
The oldest organization against slavery. It offers a lot of opportunities to get involved on their website.
This organization educates and advocates to end trafficking.
This organization houses ex-slaves in Washington DC, as well as works in Africa, Cambodia, and India to stop trafficking.
This organization focuses on ending slavery in Sudan and Mauritania.
This organization is based in Florida and working to prevent the use of slaves in farming practices.
These are all just ones that popped up as soon as I googled them. I know there are more out there.
I think we all need to work to do something. Even if it is just to begin advocating in laws, or volunteering at a homeless shelter (which is where many go if they are able to escape). We need to take action.
Living like nothing is happening is foolish and selfish.
Mr. Skinner referenced a quote from W.E.B.DuBois that says the following:
‘There is but one coward on earth, and that is the coward that dare not know.”
We can act like we don’t know what is happening here in the states and around the world, but it is a true act of cowardice.
Get involved with me!
(If any of you know of more organizations out there, please place them in the comment section so more people can get involved!!)
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
This pretty much translates to every area of my life.
So I’m sure you can believe this also translates to my little dogs. Sometimes, I really feel bad for my poor dogs.
I had never really PLANNED on cutting their hair.
When we got dogs? I totally hadn’t had a dog for like a decade, so naturally I forgot that they shed.
We adopted Nariz (black dog) first and had her for about 6 months. Then one day, I looked down at the carpet and I experienced Sheer. Horror.
My face got all contorted and hideous when thick black chucks of her hair were rolling up into balls and getting stuck under my toes.
What. The. Crap???
I soooo went out that day to purchase a dog-hair cutting kit for her.
She is part border collie and is supposed to have long hair. Do you know that that dog doesn’t ever look like a border collie? The longest I allow her hair to get is 2 inches long.
Then? She gets chopped.
We had had Nariz for about a year when we decided to get a second. This is when we got Nala (yellow dog).
And then to my extreme excitement and joy (read: to my extreme anger and digust) we found out that she sheds worse than Nariz.
Therefore, you can imagine that I really have to stay on top of cutting her hair to avoid having dog hair around my house.
So the first few times I cut the dog’s hair, I must admit, they did not look stellar.
But at least it was free, right?
I started to get better at it, and really the only part of their body where you could tell that they hadn’t been cut professionally was on their back, where the haircutting shears would leave comb stripes.
Not too bad, if I do say so myself.
But then? Yesterday happened.
About a week ago, I realized that Nala was started to shed, so I (like the amazing dog-mom that I am) decided to cut her hair.
I get her all prepped and move her to the kitchen.
I make sure I give her lots of affection since she hates getting her hair cut.
Then I begin the cutting. But I realize that the setting I chose wasn’t really cutting her fur.
So what was my decision? Go down a size.
Problem: I wasn’t really paying attention and I went WAYYYY down in size.
I slide the cutters across her back and look in amazement as I realize I have shaved an ENTIRE STRIPE all the way down her back that is so close to her skin that it looks like she has no fur.
I have no choice.
The rest of her hair has to go.
As I am cutting, I am half cracking up/half crying on the inside because I realize once Brandon sees her? He’s going to freak out.
I manage to cut all of her fur around her body, and then get to her face.
Here’s the problem: Nala’s undercoat is a very light blonde. Her top coat? A strawberry blonde.
I couldn’t figure out how to cut her face fur without totally cutting her eyeball off or de-whiskering her.
So …I Left the fur.
Then I got to her tail.
At this point, she was so wiggly and so done with her haircut that I just cut half of it, and then let it be.
Getting the picture?
Brandon walked to the kitchen and immediately FREAKED OUT! “What did you do to my dog????”
Brandon: “Seriously! She looks like a hairless rat, but with a mask on her face. And her tail looks like it went through meat grinder!!!!”
Me: “Brandon! Don’t be mean to her! She doesn’t know how ugly she looks!”
Brandon: “Of course she doesn’t know. But I know! People are going to think we abuse this dog. We can’t take her outside. She looks HOMELESS.”
So the dog looks horrible. Like one of those creepy hairless cats you always see that haunt your nightmares. Like this guy:
(Picture from Google Images--http://jesseacohen.blogspot.com)
And this? Really cracks me. She just looks so helpless in her hideousness.
They really should find new owners.
Someone who isn’t so cheap and will just pay for a professional groomer.
As you can see, her face and bottom half of her legs have fur. The rest of her? Not so much (except for the random patches of fur I didnt cut on her body either...) You can kinda see how gangly her tail looks. Rough times, dog. Rough times.
In case you forgot, this is what she is supposed to look like. Furry and beautiful.
Monday, September 6, 2010
How do you take off the ‘old man’ and put on the ‘new’?
Think about it.
Habits die hard. Very hard.
And all those things that you think make you, ‘you’, can sometimes be things that shouldn’t make you, ‘you’.
A.K.A. The ‘you’ that you’ve become is not that great.
Sometimes I think about who I am. My ‘old man’. It is self-centered and consumed with M.E.
Reading Ephesians 4:28-30 has revealed several things that I really need to work on.
1. Give GENEROUSLY to others in need.
2. Let EVERYTHING you say be good and helpful, so that your words will be an encouragement to those who hear them.
3. And do not bring sorrow to God’s Holy Spirit by the way you live. Remember, he has identified you as His own.
My old nature is still VERY much there.
1. Yes, I have chosen a career path where I can give generously to others with my time and efforts. And yes, this is good, but I want to say ‘blah blah blah’ to myself.
How much do I hold on selfishly to my own possessions?
For example, if I was walking by someone who needed my coat, would I give it to them? If I had the choice between giving someone the best food available while I chose something lesser, would I do it?
Hmmm… Do I even want to answer that question?
2.Is EVERYTHING I say good and helpful??
Wow. I think you would just have to interview my husband to find out that I often allow words to slip my mouth that are nowhere near an encouragement to him or others.
And what about if you talked to my friends? Do I spend more time whining than I do speaking positively???
3.I have addressed this issue before in other Manna Monday’s, but I carry the name of Christ! As such, am I living in a way that brings the Holy Spirit joy or grievance?
People, you are going to have to pray for me.
Just reading through Scripture in this way lets me see how much of my ‘old self’ permeates my daily life.
Friday, September 3, 2010
That morning? I woke up and felt like a mack truck slammed into my head. It was wonderful.
However, I was determined to think about how magical my wedding day was.
I was doing great, people.
Focusing on the happiness.
Focusing on the memories.
Focusing on how handsome my husband looked, etc.
But then? I remembered I had to go to work. YYYAYYYYYYAYYYYYY.
Ok, not yay. BOOOOO. Real life sucks. Who can agree with me that the real world should stop when anniversaries come up??
I went to work, it was grand and great, right?
So then, on the way home I decided I was going to stop at the grocery store to pick up a few items for the big ol anniversario.
I pull in, excited that I am done with work and about to go see my ravishingly handsome husband of THREE YEARS!
I step out of the car and …..SQUASH.
I look down and to my utter amazement and *joy* I stepped in a huge, monstrous pile of puke that someone so kindly left in the parking lot.
Was it not just a week ago that I discovered the ‘paraphernalia’ in my garbage can????
How is this possible? My life is ridiculous. I really don’t know how these things keep happening to me. And on my anniversary of all days!
So I walk into Meijer and immediately go to the sanitizing wipe station where you can sanitize your cart.
I am picking out chunks of puke out of the ridges of my sandal with the sani-wipe and trying not to puke myself.
All the while I am PANICKING because I am a major germ-a-phobe. I am convinced that today? I am going to pick up hepatitis. On my anniversary, I will become diseased.
I start sanitizing even more.
Finally, I get all of the puke off my sandal, and then go to the bathroom to really scrub down what the sani-wipes didn’t get off.
Then I can go shopping.
I pick up my items and return home.
At this point, the anniversary turned around (Praise the Lord!)
My husband had really romantic plans and I remembered all the reasons why I felt so amazing on my wedding day 3 years ago. The man is incredible!
But then? I spill a glass of water on my husband’s new i-phone which his grandmother just purchased for him.
I? Started bawling because I knew how excited he was about the phone and I thought I ruined it.
Good news is, it wasn’t damaged, so after I got done having a sob-fest, the anniversary went nicely again.
We ate Vietnamese food, delicious ice cream, and spent quite the romantic evening together.
And the best part is, our celebration is going to continue this weekend.
So even though I woke up with a headache, had to work, stepped in a pile of puke, and almost ruined my husband’s zillion dollar phone??? I loved my anniversary.
My husband? Is the best ever.
I? Am the luckiest woman on earth because of the amazing man I married. Even if outside my marriage, my luck seems to suck.