Marriage Monday

Mondays often end up feeling like gloomy depressing days. I don't really know why that is, but it  tends to happen. The weekends feel like freedom (when that's not really the case) and Mondays feel like prison.


In an effort to attempt to spice up this Monday, I thought a little tip about marriage that has really worked for me:


Make out. Do it all the time. Do it every single day. Do it in stolen moments when the kids are distracted. Do it every time one leaves for the day and comes back. Do it before you go to sleep. Do it for no reason at all, just do it.


Chief is a hardcore make-out-er person. He loves it. I, on the other hand, am not so fond of it. It's messy, emotionally intense, and sometimes his face is really scratchy and it hurts. However, every time we spend a few minutes kissing (or macking down, which is a more funny way to say "kissing" lol), it reminds me of how much he loves me.


So when you get home today (or when you reunite with your spouse today) have a make out session! It'll make Mondays feel a whole lot more awesome. :)

The greatest day of my life.

I have just come home from what I can honestly call the greatest day of my life. I'm sitting here in my living room, a bundle of tears and emotions. This day was the most perfect day of my life.

This morning, Chief and I renewed our wedding vows through participating in the Sacrament of Marriage. The ceremony was everything I wanted our original wedding to be: silly, beautiful, filled with love, personal, peaceful. It was the most perfect display of all that Chief and I truly are. One of my favorite lines, that our priest said, was "You two are so perfect for each other even your initials are the same!" I also loved when he said "The love you both have for each other is only from God, because it so perfectly displays God's own love. Your love for each other is God Himself."

Our photographer was seriously amazing. I am literally dying with anticipation to see the pictures!

Then tonight... Tonight Chief and I shared in the Eucharist for the first time. Even as I write this tears are filling up in my eyes. Our journey to Catholicism has been incredibly long, immensely painful, and filled with eager anticipation. Quite honestly, I have ached for my Beloved. I have ached so intensely for the very moment which came tonight, when His flesh and blood would be joined in my body. It was amazingly beautiful to see Chief anointed with oil, as we both were received into the Church. I can't even begin to explain the emotions flowing out of me. Chief said that after I received the Eucharist, I was smiling ear to ear, and completely elated. My Beloved is here. He's here in such a way that can never be denied. He is here in the way that I spent 29 years aching and searching for. He is here moving mountains, breaking barriers, and finally making sense. He is here where action and love and thought and deed all connect and the result is something so absolutely astronomical that I have only tears, and no words.

Today was a day filled with celebrating the two most important beings in my life. My two Beloved's: my Father in heaven, and my husband on earth. This day would have been immaculate celebrating either of those beautiful experiences, but on this day, on this amazing most awesome day, I celebrated them both.

I am the luckiest woman in the world.

Rainbow foods and kiddos.

I have kids that love fruits and vegetables. They love them so much that they actually beg for them over things like donuts and treats quite frequently. If you ask them what they want for dessert, they're equally as likely to say "STRAWBERRIES!" as they are to say "ICE CREAM!" When they choose their lunches, they will equally pick bell peppers as they will pick crackers. Actually, they pick bell peppers more often than crackers.

In our home, we make a sincere attempt to daily eat at least one rainbow meal. A rainbow meal is a meal that incorporates every color of the rainbow (red, orange, yellow, green, blue/purple) on the plate.

I have had several people ask me how I get my children to eat healthy foods with such ease. I've had so many ask that I thought I'd write this little entry about what we do specifically. So here goes!

1. My children help me grocery shop. They come with me in the produce aisle of the store and they get to help pick out foods. Not just foods I've pre selected. They actually get to choose their own fruits and vegetables. I pay close attention to this and I try to incorporate those tastes which they naturally are drawn to (savory vs sweet) into their diets. 
2. I only make one meal and they all have to eat it. However, I try to use sensitivity to personal tastes. For example, I put sugar snap peas in the kids' lunch today. Lolli (my oldest) doesn't like them, but she loves bell peppers. So I bumped up her bell peppers, and gave her a little less sugar snap peas. Then she doesn't feel forced to eat an incredible amount of food she doesn't enjoy, but she's still exposed to the different taste. 
3. They participate in the making of lunch. For lunch, I'll say "What should we eat that's red?" Then they'll all chime in with their ideas: "Tomatoes! Strawberries! Radishes! Apples!" I usually go with whichever item more of them suggest, but sometimes it's just whatever I have most of as well. Then I'll ask about orange, and yellow and so on so forth, until all of the colors are represented. I have found that them having this say in what goes on their plates makes them so much more excited about eating them. They all eat the fruits and veggies that they don't even like that much, just because they had a say.
4. We talk A LOT about colors. Why do we want something green? What's in Spinach? Why do we want to try to eat spinach? Why is our entire plate almost all bright colors, and there's only a very small amount of brown (pretzels, crackers, etc)? You could make a plate of white bread and saltines and place it next to a rainbow plate of food and talk about which one looks more pretty. Which one is more appealing? 
5. I make a conscious effort to try foods I have never tried before. That means when one of my children pick out some vegetable that I've never heard of, and I can't really figure out exactly what it is, we all taste it and try it and enjoy it. So much of eating is the excitement of trying new things. How can I tell them they have to try something new if I'm unwilling to do so?
6. Make it a positive experience. If one of my kids wants celery and everyone else really doesn't want celery, try to talk about it in a positive way. Sometimes that translates to: "Guys. Charchee really wants celery today, so do you think we could eat celery instead of spinach just for today? We can have spinach tomorrow!" and sometimes that translates to: "Charchee. I only have one stalk of celery. How about we chop it up so everyone can have a little bit and put it with our spinach?"

So that's about it. I have found that when the kids don't have rainbow foods, it changes their behavior. They are grumpy and cry a lot. The healthier their diets, the healthier their brains, and the healthier my sanity is. :)

Hope some of these tips help you. Do you have any tips you'd like to share?

The death-of-me dollhouse

A little over a year ago, I got into my head that my daughter should be gifted a lavish dollhouse. You know, the kind you always dreamed about as a little girl, but never got. She was given a dollhouse that had to be assembled, and she was incredibly excited about it.

Well, let me just tell you, putting together a dollhouse is a giant pain in the neck. I kid you not. It takes an incredible amount of time. I have spent a gazillion hours gluing tiny little pieces, and then being stuck for 48 hours until the glue completely sets, to continue on. Well, 48 hours later, one does not necessarily want to work on the dollhouse anymore, which makes motivation incredibly difficult to keep around.

We are finally nearing the end. I think. The trims are on (with the exception of the balcony trim, and that's because the less I have to cover and tape before painting the better), the stairs are in and the railings, the baseboards are in My next step is painting, which I will try to motivate myself to work on today. Then when the paint dries, we move on to adding the final trim, gluing in the windows, dying the roof tiles, and then installing them, and then this thing is complete.

I have had several people ask me if I'd make one for their kid, and the answer is no. I've had several people ask me if I'll make one for each of my daughters, and I'm fairly certain the answer is no. I've had several people ask me if I've enjoyed doing this and the answer is a loud and clear no. However, I'm fairly certain the excitement on Lolli's face when it's finally done and she can play with it, will turn all my irritations about doing it in to complete excitement.

When it's done, I'll post pictures of the journey and the finished product. :)

Mr Jones.

I'm supposed to write a little ditty about Chief for our vows renewal that is coming up. Yes, I am started to get pretty darn close to the deadline, but to be completely honest, how do I write enough tiny little words to fill up a 3X5 card about a person who can't be defined? How do I pick a few words to say a lifetime's worth of gratitude? What can I say that will stick with the dude who remember's dates like no other, and can seem to quote things I've said with no trouble at all?

You saved my life. I mean really. I was completely broken. I was curled up on my kitchen floor, seriously considering ending my life, because the honest fact is that no one ever really cared about me. I was on the phone with you and bawling my eyes out about how I must surely be unlovable because no one ever could, would, or did. I think it was the only moment in all my years knowing you where your entire soul was screaming at me, and the ache and desperation in your voice were seeping out. You shouted How could you EVER say that!? I would give ANYTHING to love you if you'd just let me! LET ME LOVE YOU! I would give anything to love you! It was the most impassioned plea. It was filled with desperation, agony, and complete heartache. And it was the first time in my life that I had ever truly, truly known that someone loved me.

You have always known the ugliest sides of me. You have been the object of my deepest agony, my longest darkness, my heaviest burdens. You've been the brunt of my anger, the object of my rejection, the denial of my need. You have felt all of the horribleness I am capable of dishing out. You have never once made me feel like a burden. You have never once made me feel crazy, or insane, or ridiculous. You have never once mocked my immature behavior. You always have placed me above all others, even when I was not your girlfriend.

You have always chosen to see the best in me. You have always chosen to accept my damages. You have laughed at my jokes, handed me tissues when I'm crying, and given me things I never imagined ever having or wanting. You have literally saved my life. You have given me the freedom to fight my demons, the comfort to move past the constant rejections, and the love that my spirit has ached for. You are the only person who knows me. You are the only person that gets me. You are my human version of Agape. You are my mate, my heart, my love.

Thank you for having the balls to dive into my darkness and pull me out of it. Thank you for sharing my life journey with me. Thank you for laughing along this road of ridiculousness with me. Thank you for having four beautiful children with me. Thank you for not jumping ship when it's been tough. Thank you for forgiving my many flaws, and embracing my good traits. Thank you for allowing me to acknowledge my stupidities without shoving them in my face. Thank you for the butt dance, putting up with pillowgate, and my heart's love for a four legged dog who costs us loads of money. Thank you for being strong enough to not only be my man, but to also be my protector, my children's father, my friend.

You and I have always been underestimated and under appreciated by those in our lives. It's pretty freaking neat that together we've been conquering odds and shattering statistics and having one heck of a time doing it. I can't wait to spend a jillion more years being silly with you.

Marriage is tough...

Marriage is tough. It's a statement that seems to be spoon-fed down the throats of the single folks, like if you're married you're a part of some secret club that only married people know about. I used to hate hearing people say that to me before I was married. And yet, I find myself saying it all the time to the single people around me.

When I was single I thought people were telling me to sort of warn me or prepare me for some impending doom on the day I got married. Now that I'm married, I know that people say it to encourage themselves to keep going, keep fighting, keep loving, and keep moving forward. In other words "marriage is tough" really means "just keep on truckin'".

I love Chief. I really do. I love him more than I ever believed myself genuinely capable of loving. But the past week, I didn't feel as much love as I felt resentment, jealousy, and hurt feelings. Isn't it crazy how quickly the joy of love can be twisted and turned to something awful?

You see, with Lolli's hospital scenario, the kids' sicknesses, my sickness, Chief's sickness, his schooling, his Army work, and our overall busy-ness, I have barely spent any time with Chief. He comes home from work, eats dinner with us for 20 minutes and starts school, or counselling statements, or creates classes for work, or does ten thousand things for the Army. Then when he finishes that, he plops himself down on the couch and plays games on his phone, fiddles around on the internet, or falls asleep.

Now, I realize that his busy-ness is not that big of a deal. I know he could be involved in much worse things than working hard for his family. But I have to be honest, I don't do well when I don't connect with him. I become depressed, insecure, grumpy, my thinking gets foggy, and I just lose my overall cheeryness. It's really quite pathetic that the absence of a connection with Chief does all of that to me, but I have to say it's the negative side of being genuinely in love with another human being.

Today, Chief and I had an incredibly busy day of errands to do. In a moment when he was checking the air in my tires, my heart swelled with grief and sadness and the negative feelings disappeared. He works SO hard for me and I have only been thinking about myself, and not about him are the thoughts that flew through my brain. Wow. Sucker punch to my wife gut.

So how do I respond? I need to get over myself. I need to stop being so completely self involved. I need to put myself in his shoes, and imagine how completely overwhelmed, over worked, and drained he must feel. I need to think about his best interests, and not my own. Isn't that what marriage is supposed to be anyway? I look out for him, and he looks out for me.

I hate when my heart displays its ugliness.

My Confession

For those non-Catholics (NCs) out there, confession is considered wicked. Confession is considered to be a time when you go to a human being and that human being says "Okay. God won't hold you accountable for this ever again." and you're good to go. For NCs, this is blasphemy. When I sin, I sin against God and God alone, and He alone can forgive my sins.

I spent years fighting against the understanding of this action. And I can honestly tell you, I never in my wildest dreams would have believed that I would be going to confession. But God brings people into our lives when we need them. They are human versions of His spiritual arms and they come and bring good news. Sometimes that news is hard to swallow, or difficult to hear, or requires an incredible amount of arguing and challenging, but good news is always good news, even if the choices one must make after hearing it, hurts.

Many of you know that my husband and I are converting to Catholicism. This was not a decision made lightly, and I have told some of my Catholic friends that I fear I will be joining by the skin of my teeth. I argue. I challenge everything said. I know the Bible (I am always learning more), and I know what it says and I won't just be coddled or BSed into buying into any sort of group mentality. When it comes to God, I believe it is absolutely wicked to do that. God is my beloved, and I will not ever allow myself to be joined to anything that  speaks falsely of Him.

That is the ultimate reason why I had to leave Protestantism. It just never added up. If 20,000 different "protestant" faiths are teaching 20,000 different perspectives, only one of them can be right (one says you can't drink, another says you can. One says dancing is a sin, another requires it. etc etc etc).

Forgive me, I'm not writing an attack on Protestantism.

Confession is not about the priest. The priest has nothing to do with it. Confession is about you and God. Confession is about pouring light into the darkness that sin creates. Confession is exposing the secrets that Christians carry around about their sin. Confession is saying out loud, to another person, what you have done. Our sins are already forgiven before we see the priest. Our sins are forgiven by Christ. Confession is an environment where you are in front of another human being and saying "This is my sin. This is what I need to work on. This is how I want to grow and change."

It's beautiful. It was the most terrifying experience of my life. To sit in front of a person that I hold with an incredible amount of admiration and tell him my sins, was agonizing. In my previous church, sins were discussed (in general terms) but never exposed. Everyone walked around with the facade that they were open about their sins, but never once in all my years of leading Bible studies and small groups did I ever hear a person say "This is my sin. It is wicked and destructive. This is how I will stop doing it." Sin was discussed in past tense terms "I was an alcoholic. I was a drug addict. But I'm free now!"

So I sat down, face to face, and I poured out my sins. I poured out my broken heart. I poured out the agony that my spirit faces when I betray my Beloved. I poured out myself and I was accepted. I was forgiven. My priest said "Do you believe, I mean really believe that your sins have been forgiven? Christ has wiped you clean. KNOW that you are forgiven. No more shame." I think in his wisdom, he knew I didn't. He knew that even all the times I've asked God to forgive me, this aspect of myself never really believed He did. The shame of my wickedness I carry around like a second skin. I am worthy of nothing.

When I left confession, a woman I didn't know came up to me and hugged me. She said "You are glowing!" And I can't explain to you why I felt so much lighter walking out of that place. Maybe having another human being tell you that God hears your broken heart and has forgiven you is incredibly more powerful than I could have imagined. Maybe pouring light into the festering wounds of my choices is more healing than I could have fathomed. Maybe I have finally understood that I am forgiven.

The grace I have discovered humbles me. The love that is displayed is abundant. This is my confession.