Beautifully Broken Things

This time last year, I was feeling light-headed. It wasn't the joy of the coming Christmas or the cheer I felt in my heart from celebrating our favorite traditions. It was from paint fumes. My husband had sequestered himself in our basement where he was working on a top secret Christmas gift project for me. 

All I knew was that it involved spray paint. And lots of it. The more he painted, the more the fumes wafted up through our home's 1950s vent system and filled the air. As touched as I was that he had thought to make me something, I was also more than a little frustrated. Spray paint was not the smell I wanted to be filling my Christmas home. 

I tried opening the windows but it created sort of a vacuum, sucking even more of the pungent paint smell into our house. I tried to keep my heart in the right place, but my dizziness combined with my frustration didn't make for a good mix. 

Then, when it was time to pack up our car and travel to my folks' house where we planned to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, I realized this thing he had made, which had been wrapped carefully in black garbage bags, wasn't totally dried or cured. So we brought the paint fume smell with us and enjoyed it for 100 miles. 

Still without a clue as to what this created masterpiece might be, I thought about possible options. My husband is not very good at keeping secrets, but he didn't give me any hints even though I asked for them. At one point he showed whatever it was to my mom and she burst into tears....so I figured it had to be something meaningful. 

Meaningful doesn't even begin to cover it. 

On Christmas morning, my husband presented me with a heavy, rectangular wooden board. Carefully covered in layers of pale blue spray paint, this was the source of our dizzying fumes. 

In the center of the board was a heart. The heart had been created in a mosaic out of small ceramic tiles, carefully fitted together like a puzzle to fill in the shape. 

If you knew nothing of the backstory, this piece would stand on its own as a beautiful work of wall art or home decor. But that's not the entire story. 

When my great grandmother passed away, the item I wanted most from her home was a vase. This was not just any vase. It was large and bright orange and stood out against the otherwise muted tones of her un-fancy preacher's wife decorating aesthetic. 

Always being drawn to bright colors and bold decor, I loved it and it was the only thing I really wanted of hers (besides some of her cake decorating books and an old recipe box). I was thrilled to have the vase in my home. It reminded me of my great grandmother, a really special lady. 

In many ways the vase was a source of inspiration for me in decorating my first home with my husband. Built in the late 1950s, it has a certain mid-century modern flair. So with the vase as a starting point, I pulled together other elements featuring the same bold orange, plus other complementary hues. 

For the first year or so after moving in, the vase sat on a shelf in our living room. As I am wont to do, I was moving some furniture around and changing up some of the nick knacks on our mantel. I had the bright idea to put the vase on the mantel because it tied in nicely with a bright, colorful painting featuring the same shade of orange. 

As I was holding the vase and admiring the painting in its new location, the painting began to fall forward. It's like everything happened in slow motion. Without processing what I was doing, I let go of the vase to catch the painting. It crashed to the tile hearth below, shattering into many, many pieces. 

I couldn't believe this had happened. I felt so dumb for making such a clumsy mistake. Even though it was just a vase, an inanimate object, what it symbolized for me was so special and seeing it broken into shards was just too much. When my husband rushed into the room, he found me sobbing, more for the loss of my grandmother than the vase, but still so sad by the loss of this symbol. 

He told me to go to the kitchen and get a drink of water while he cleaned up the mess. I heard him picking up pieces of ceramic and putting them in a black garbage bag, but I couldn't watch and I certainly couldn't watch him dispose of it in our trashcan outside. 

What I didn't know was that he didn't dispose of it. He hid the bag of broken vase downstairs where I wouldn't find it. And then those pieces of orange ceramic became the tiles in the mosaic heart he worked so hard to create for me last Christmas. 

As soon as I saw it, I knew what he had done. I couldn't believe that he had come up with such a special idea and brought it to life in this very meaningful way. We were joking today that he'd have a hard time topping that gift this year. And of course I don't really want him to try. But thinking about the heart and how much it means to me, I realized I hadn't shared this story before and so I wanted to. 

Things break. Sometimes valuable things. Sometimes a thing we love so much....and maybe there is only one of it and it can't be replaced. And sometimes there's no fixing it. No putting it back together. 

But broken things can find a new purpose. A new meaning. They can get a new life. 

If given the choice to have the vase back in exchange for the mosaic heart my husband made, I would say no thanks. That he wanted to take something broken and turn it into something beautiful for me is a priceless part of our story. I wouldn't trade that for all the vases in all the world. 

For the Love of Dogs

In life, there are different kinds of people. Cat people. Dog people. Iguana people (that's a thing, right?). I am a dog person. Cats are fine, but dogs are definitely my thing. I come from a long line of dog people, at least as far as I know.

I've heard stories of how, as a child, my great grandfather used to roll around in the dirt, kicking and squalling if a stray dog came along that he wasn't allowed to keep. His daughter, my grandmother, grew up on a farm, in a house that had a door in the floor. I've never been exactly clear on this, but from her description, it sounds like the door led into a compartment or cellar of sorts. She describes her childhood as having a steady stream of puppies always readily available. The mother dog would give birth in that compartment and my grandma, whenever she felt like it, would reach in and pull out an armful of puppies.

My mom had dogs from a young age too, including a beloved Saint Bernard (whose name escapes me) and a mutt named Mussolini. Some of my earliest memories are of dogs. My grandparents' beloved brown and white beagle mix, Inky and my great-grandparents' fluffy brown sheep dog Tippy Sue.

The first dog that belonged just to me was a little dachshund mix that I named Duke, after a dog in a book I loved.

When I was a teenager, my family got a black lab named Commodore who ruled the neighborhood. We defied all the leash laws, which allowed him to come and go as he pleased. This included adhering to a strict schedule of daily walks with many of our elderly neighbors who treated him to a slice of bacon or bologna afterward. Commodore died in 2010, on the same day as my great grandfather. They didn't really know each other but I loved them both so much that it was somewhat comforting to think they took that last journey on the same day, if not together.

In January of 2006, I brought home a shelter pup that would change my life and my heart forever. A black and white boxer/pitt bull mix, Leon Otis Spears was magical. I surely didn't deserve his particular variety of pure love and adoration, but somehow I was lucky enough to receive it for nearly ten years.

Some of the darkest days of my life were after Leon died. For nearly a decade, his had been a consistent presence that always made me feel safe and loved. I was devastated after his passing and it was nearly a year before I felt ready to bring another dog into my family.

When my husband and I adopted Ruthie, a special needs Yorkie from a local rescue group, it just felt like the exact right time. That was in January of last year and I can't imagine our life without her.

Later in the summer of last year, I saw a Facebook post by an acquaintance whose co-worker was fostering a tiny, ancient chihuahua. The photo spoke to my heart and we decided to adopt Sweetie, a twelve (maybe fourteen?) year old black and white chihuahua with spindly legs and bright, bulging eyes.

As I type these words, she is eating her dinner of ground turkey, peas and carrots and brown rice, which my husband prepares in the Crock Pot for her and her siblings.

She was cuddling with me recently and I remember thinking that I couldn't imagine our family without her. Even though she's only been with us a little over a year, it feels like forever. And Ruthie, who we've just had nearly two years feels like even longer.

After Leon died, I thought I'd never love another dog again. Ever. I was practically certain of this. And when we first got Ruthie, I thought I'd like her but I never dreamed how dear she'd become to me.

There are so many good life lessons to be learned from our experiences with dogs. What I'm starting to realize is how they change our hearts permanently. I haven't always been the best at giving or receiving affection. I guess it's just a defense mechanism of mine....a form of self-protection.

But with Leon, it was like I had a safe place to pour out my love and snuggles to someone who always wanted to be on the receiving end. He never pushed me away or acted aloof. He never rejected me.

Having that opportunity to practice acting out my affectionate side helped me grow more confident in that area. It might sound silly, but I know it helped me become better able to give and receive affection with people.

I got this image in my mind of the human heart, being sort of closed up at first until something powerful comes along and cracks an opening. It's not always easy to let love in, but then over time, the opening grows. That's why I think I've been so quick to fall in love with these most recent dogs. Because Leon split my heart wide open so there was plenty of space for them to find a place in there.

And that brings me to the latest addition to our little odd squad. A few weeks ago, the lady who works with the rescue organization that brought us Sweetie called me. I was at Wal-Mart, in the frozen food aisle, when she started telling me about this old ragamuffin dog that had been surrendered to the shelter. He was matted almost beyond recognition and they thought he had come from a hoarding situation. She thought of us because of our willingness to adopt older dogs and asked if we'd consider taking him.

It didn't take much convincing (thank goodness I married a dog person too) and the following week, she brought him over for a meet and greet. He's really old...we have no idea exactly how many years. And he's blind in at least one eye. We've been calling him Grandpa because so far it's the only name that seems to fit. He might live two more years or two more weeks, but we wanted him to have a safe, loving home where he could spend the rest of his life.

And we'll benefit from it too. Or at least our hearts will.

Learning to FIDO

In the thirteen years I've been with my now-husband, I have received an education about all sorts of military-related things.

When we first started dating, my well-meaning mom bought him a pair of boxer shorts patterned like the American flag. You've probably seen some variation of this...one side is blue with stars and the other side red and white stripes. When she presented the shorts to him, he politely thanked her but later told me he wouldn't be wearing them.

"How come?" I asked.

"I'm not putting the American flag on my ass," he replied, as if this were something I should have known.

Not having much previous experience with anything military-related, this and so many other things were totally new to me.

Like how there's a big difference between people who are tough (they don't talk about it or feel the need to display it) and people who are fake tough (they wear it like a banner for all to see). Or the fact that you don't 'shoot' guns, you 'fire' them. Or how most military movies get so much so wrong.

Something else I've learned a little bit about is some of the different sayings and phrases commonly used by members of the military. Early on, my husband taught me the phrase "Smooth is fast." It means that when you get in a hurry, you can get flustered and make mistakes that you probably wouldn't make if you took your time. My husband said this to me for years and then, while watching the film Shooter, we heard Mark Wahlberg say it, with the addition of the phrase "Slow is smooth. Smooth is fast." 

It's funny because my great-grandmother actually had a very similar phrase she liked to repeat, which is "the best way to go fast is to go slow." For a long time I had no idea what that meant, but coupled with the smooth is fast saying, it makes more sense.

Something else my husband has taught me is FIDO. In military slang, it's an acronym for the phrase "F#@k it, drive on."

When I asked him what might be some scenarios in which FIDO is an appropriate response, he said maybe if lost your weapon or your pack, or your ride broke down or any other number of things. There's no time to stop and worry about it because there's too much at stake. Drive on.

It sounds so simple, but it's actually quite hard for some of us. So many times in life, I have an inclination to stop moving forward and ruminate on the situation at hand.

Sort of like how my beloved Aunt Bo doesn't chew her gum, she just "wallers (wallows) it around in her mouth," I am wont to waller in so many situations. To roll around and settle in, exploring every inch of every possible morsel that might apply to me.

And this isn't always a bad thing. Sometimes a healthy amount of self-reflection can be good. It can help us see things more clearly. It can help us learn about ourselves and others. It can help us avoid certain situations or keep unhealthy patterns from repeating.

But there are other times in life when it just doesn't serve us to stop and waller. When we're actually better off to FIDO.

I'm learning this.

Some situations are just baffling. Sometimes the behavior of others, while completely out of our control, affects us in colossal ways. No matter how much we explore every inch of this junk, it might never make sense. It probably doesn't make sense to the others involved either, if that makes you feel any better.

I'm definitely not advocating any sort of approach that involves ignoring your feelings or pretending like things don't affect you. This doesn't seem healthy to me. But I am saying that in certain instances, it may just be better to FIDO.

I'm reading this book called You Are a Badass: How to Stop Doubting Your Greatness and Start Living an Awesome Life and it says that much of our reality is created by the crap we have believed in life. Because of all the messages our subconscious has taken in without our even realizing it.

That we aren't good enough. That we don't deserve good things. That we deserve the judgement and criticism of others. That we should hold ourselves to an unattainable standard of perfection.

This is where FIDO could really help. When we find ourselves accepting a truth that we didn't intend to believe in the first place. I do it all the time. Behave a certain way because of some wacky belief that I didn't realize I had.

And instead of stopping to ponder it or waller it around to see it from all sides, maybe I should just keep in mind that I have bigger, more important things to do in this world and I should just FIDO.

I want to be that couple.

This weekend I was clothes shopping at one of my favorite local thrift stores. I prefer this particular one not only because it always has a wide selection of really high end brands and good quality items, but also because the store is organized so well. Instead of having to dig through towering piles and overflowing racks, you can shop for exactly what you’re looking for, by color, style and size.

I was flipping through a rack of blouses when I came to a sweater. At first I got excited because it was in my size, a beautiful Italian wool from Banana Republic. Upon further inspection, I realized it was so tiny, it would barely fit a child. Clearly somebody didn’t follow the care instructions because it had obviously been through a cycle of hot water with a side of dryer.

I wondered if some husband or boyfriend had been the culprit. I’m not trying to pick on the guys here, but as a woman who tries to take the best possible care of my clothes, chances are slim that I would make the mistake of shrinking a nice garment such as this.

I thought of my own husband, who washes everything together on hot. Just last night he washed our dogs’ foam beds, on hot, with our one and only set of bed sheets. The dog beds exploded in the dryer leaving piles of what looked like gray bird’s nests (or in my husband’s words “pube clippings”) everywhere.

But back to the sweater…

I wondered if this small shrunken garment had been the catalyst for a big blow-up fight. Maybe it was her favorite and he ruined it. Maybe she had been feeling like he never listened to her, or didn’t see her in some way and this small slight was just the icing on the cake.

Has that been you? I can relate. Years ago, early in my relationship with my then boyfriend/now husband, we were at a Chinese restaurant and overheard a couple at the next table having a heated conversation. We couldn’t help but get drawn into listening, curious about their situation. It all came to a head when the guy said to the girl, in an angry tone, “If you want to try the soup, JUST TRY THE SOUP.”

Of course without knowing all the context, we can’t say much about what was going on, but this phrase has stuck with us. For the next decade or so, we’ve said this to each other jokingly or sometimes to break the ice during a heated conversation of our own.

This morning at breakfast, my husband said (out of the blue), “I wonder whatever happened to that soup couple. Did they make it? Are they still together or was that argument the last straw?”

We’ve been that couple too. The one arguing about something stupid like popcorn or a spoon. And I’m sure there have been times when strangers have heard us and wondered, “what the heck?” Maybe there’s another couple out there quoting one of the more ridiculous things we’ve said.

Not too long ago, I was having breakfast at a diner. I looked over at the next table and saw a couple eating together. Except they were both reading magazines. Not talking. Just munching their food, and flipping the pages. His was Esquire, hers appeared to be something about antique furniture.

My first thought was: Jeez, I don’t want to be that couple. The one who goes out to eat and sits there silently. That couple who are both engrossed in their reading, completely oblivious of the other’s presence.

But as soon as this thought came and went, another one sprang into my mind.

What if they are totally happy? What if the thing they enjoy most each week is breakfast and magazines? Perhaps it’s their Netflix and chill.  

It’s easy to make sweeping statements about how we don’t want to be. Grand edicts etched in stone about what we are and are not. I’ve done it so many times.

I don’t want to be that couple seeing a marriage counselor during year two because year one was such a struggle. I don’t want to be that couple with debt. I don’t want to be that couple who has drama with our in-laws. I don’t want to be that couple screaming at each other over a bucket of popcorn.

Except I’ve been one half of this couple. Every single time.

And I’ve been part of that couple sitting there not talking at a restaurant. And sometimes it’s just all you can do.

Sweaters shrink. Dog beds disintegrate. Couples fight over silly things. I don’t want to be that couple who doesn’t make it. That couple who takes each other for granted and ends up breaking each other’s hearts. But beyond that, I’m all in.

Ultimately, I do want to be that couple. Full stop. Whatever comes after that is open to interpretation.  

How to have the perfect wedding

The forecast in Knoxville today was dark and rainy. We woke up to cloudy skies, which aren't that unusual for a Saturday in late April. The fourth Saturday in April is significant for me because two years ago on a Saturday just like today, my southern beau and I said our wedding vows in front of a crowd of our nearest and dearest people.

Weddings are special no matter who it is, but for us, after dating as long as we did (eleven years!), it felt like something we'd been waiting to happen for so long.

Just like today, on that fourth Saturday in April two years ago, we also woke up to cloudy skies and even some serious storm warnings. I know you can't control the weather, but nobody dreams of a dreary, stormy day for her wedding. I was already feeling those wedding day jitters. It wasn't cold feet, just a bit of anxiety because there were so many unknowns. It's not like we could really anticipate every little thing and even though we'd rehearsed the night before, there were still so many moving parts to the event.

I haven't written much about our wedding here on the blog, which was kind of a surprise I guess, even to me. I figured that the wedding festivities would give me lots of good material. Perhaps I just got caught up in all of it and wasn't able to process everything that was happening at the time. Two years later, I'm more able to look back on it.

I know it sounds trite and is the worst of all cliches, but my wedding was perfect. Seriously. I mean sure there are a few small things I wish had been different. But not many.

I wish my closest college friend Christina had been able to attend, but she was unable to travel because of complications with her pregnancy. Thankfully she's now the mom of a beautiful little boy so it all worked out, but she was so missed. I wish my paternal grandparents had been there. Health issues and some other complicated things kept them from attending, but ultimately I understood the situation. And I wish my husband and I had taken one good photo with the gorgeous 1958 Rolls Royce my parents got for us to leave the church in, but alas that was not meant to be.

I'm sure there were other tiny hiccups I can't remember. But there were so many wonderful things about it, it was sort of like a dream. I don't know what I did to deserve such a truly special, incredible day.

So maybe you're planning a wedding of your own. Or helping someone you love plan theirs. I can't make any promises, but here are my best tips to make it practically perfect.

Choose a venue that has significance for you, not because it's the fanciest or the most popular. Our ceremony was held at a beautiful old church, rich with history and nestled into the countryside. Our reception took place at an amazing venue nearby and it just so happens to be operated by dear friends. They took care of every detail, down to the absolutely perfect flowers and made from scratch tomato sandwiches.

Don't make your bridesmaids/groomsmen wear ridiculous clothing. We've all been in a wedding where we were forced to wear something that was just awful. Don't be that person. Nobody really cares what those people are wearing. Let them be comfortable in a style that flatters them.

When it comes to cake, buttercream is the name of the game. I know, I know, fondant is beautiful. But don't you want your guests to enjoy the cake too? I'm something of a cake snob and I am convinced that not only is buttercream more delicious but it's actually prettier too. My cake was perfect. Beautiful and delicious. My design inspiration? This cake. I mean, go big or go home, right?

Don't waste time and money on wedding favors that people will end up throwing away. When my maternal grandparents got married in 1957, they didn't have a reception but ended up stopping on the way to their honeymoon for a dinner of Dr. Pepper and fried pies. In honor of them, we gave our guests homemade fried pies as favors. They went fast and I didn't hear anything except rave reviews.

Surround yourself with people you love, who love you. I think part of what made my wedding feel so wonderful is that it was truly a celebration of all the people who have loved me in my life. Who have supported me and cheered me on through so many stages. And my husband too. Don't feel compelled to invite a bunch of people because you feel like you should. 

Spring for the wedding video. Yes, if you get a fancy videographer, it's expensive. This isn't an option for everybody. I get that. But no matter what your budget is, find some way to document your day on video. You will love your photos forever, but there's just something about having footage of the day that I promise you will treasure. I wasn't going to do it until I saw a wedding video for a friend of mine from elementary school. In just a few short minutes, her video captured the essence of the day and was a beautiful memento, especially for those folks who weren't able to attend.

Marry the right person. As I type these words, it's storming in Knoxville. Unlike my perfect day two years, the sky today has not turned blue, sunny and cloudless. But tucked safely in our little house, while I sit here typing on the computer, my husband and our two dogs are napping nearby.

Unlike our wedding day, these past two years have been far from perfect. I don't even think we've had one perfect day out of these past 730, although the second year of marriage has been better than the first. Hopefully each year after will be better than the last. It helps me enjoy the present and look forward to the future.

But we're in it to win it. True blue, stuck like glue. Better than enything (I know it's misspelled...it's an inside joke). This is a decision we both made and that's that. It has nothing to do with our wedding. That was just the buttercream icing on the giant cake.

*All photos courtesy Zach & Sarah Photography - an awesome couple who helped capture our day. *

The Best Revenge

Whoever said "living well" is the best revenge obviously never ran into her ex-boyfriend on a humid, July day at Wal-Mart, hair frizzed to the max, wearing a stained Goodwill t-shirt and two different socks. That would have been me. Mind you, it was a long time ago because I have had the same boyfriend since 2004 and he's now my husband.

I was never one of those people who dated recreationally. I had crushes in high school, and I was once asked to accompany a sweet, but awkward boy to the homecoming dance, but it wasn't particularly memorable. My prom date was my best friend (thank goodness) and after graduation, I went off to college with the hope of finding true love. It just took me a few years to do so.

But for one fateful season between my freshman and sophomore years of college, while back in my hometown working a summer job, I sort of dated a guy. Mainly we just spent a couple of months talking and hanging out on his front porch swing on muggy Tennessee nights, eating atomic fireballs. Our first official date was to the sno-cone shop, aptly named "Sno-Daze" and over the course of the summer, we saw exactly one movie together at the theater, The Fast and the Furious. 

Ours was not true love, or really any love at all. Just attraction and infatuation. I should have known there was a shelf-life to that type of thing, but having had absolutely no experience in that arena, I was shocked when he stopped taking my calls about a month into the fall semester.

So, let's just say that when I bumped into him at Wal-Mart the following summer, clad in grungy clothes, with my mom in tow, I feel certain it didn't induce some type of woeful regret on his part. I tried to put on a devil-may-care attitude, but the whole thing just gave me a stomach ache.

You see, I come from a long line of people who cannot. let. things. go. Figuratively and literally. This applies to our feelings about situations as well as items we have come to own. I am incredibly jealous of anyone and everyone who can simply move on. That just isn't me. I will hash and re-hash the same scenarios for years, often never getting any closer to understanding the how and why.

Sometimes I jokingly refer to myself as Nancy Drew, but in truth, I'm more an Encyclopedia Brown...getting all the facts down in my trusty notepad and solving the case during dinner, sometimes before dessert.

But so many times in life, we just don't get the facts we need to solve anything. This is a common underlying theme for me. I'm reminded of a quote from my all-time favorite TV show, Sex & the City when Miranda says, "Carrie, we can analyze this for years and never know the answer. I mean, they still don't know who killed Kennedy."

I'll never know why my summer fling dumped me at the end of August without any explanation. It's just one of the many, many things I will never know. And it's not something I really ever think about...I just figured you'd get a kick out of my embarrassing nostalgia.

Are you ever afraid there are other questions that will never be answered for you? Important questions. Questions that you feel you deserve answers to.

Like why somebody who was supposed to love you for much longer than a summer vanishes from your life without any reason. Or why somebody did or said something that hurt you, but can't or won't explain their motives. Or why people can't or won't simply acknowledge things that might give you some peace. Even if it's not the explanation you dreamed of.

Living well is not the best revenge because no revenge is good. You think it's going to make you feel better, but it never does. Being happy with your own life helps. Not because you're shaking your proverbial fist in an "I'll show you" sort of way, but just being genuinely happy with things. There's a peace that comes from having a life you want to focus on, with people you care for, and things you feel passionate about. Before too long, there's no room (or time or energy) to hold those grudges that once took up so much of your space.

That doesn't mean you won't always wonder about the questions left unanswered. But hopefully they won't keep you up at night.

The Sunday Night Blues Club

What is it about Sundays that makes the day start off so great, with so much possibility, and then end with such a feeling of dread? Apparently I'm not alone. One recent study found that more than 75% of the people who responded feel it too. Are you one of them?

I can see how Sundays might hold a certain amount of stress and anxiety for people who hate their job and the idea of returning to it on Monday morning. I happen to really enjoy the work I get to do, so it's not that for me.

There's just something unsettling about Sunday night.

I think some of it has to do with my Sunday experiences from childhood.

Some Sundays were spent with my entire family, gathering for a big meal after church. We'd eat til our bellies were full and then the adults would nap or talk while the kids played. These Sundays didn't fill me with any sort of dread, except that I hated for all the fun to come to an end.

Then there were other Sundays on the weekends I spent with my biological dad. Most of the time, we'd spend Sunday lunch and some of the afternoon with my great grandma, which I enjoyed a lot. But when our visit came to an end, I knew it was only a matter of time before he took me back home, and back to my regular life.

Don't get me wrong...my regular life was good. But sometimes it was tough to try and straddle the fence between both worlds. It was almost like I saw myself as two different people...playing two different parts.

I think that's the toughest thing about divorce. As a kid, you want to feel a certain level of security from your surroundings and part of that comes from having all the people you love most gathered together, interacting. As strange as it sounds, I think it has to do with this feeling that there is strength in numbers. That there are enough people around who love you and won't let anything bad happen to you. Isn't that what family is all about?

Of course this isn't always possible.

I worried a lot as a kid. About a host of different things. Bizarre things. Things you probably wouldn't believe even if I told you.

For example, when I was really little, some teacher in a church Sunday school class told us that one day Jesus would come back to earth to save everyone. And she told us that he'd be riding on a majestic white horse. What's more, he'd be bringing an army of horses with him and when he snatched up all the Christians into the sky, we'd each ride on our own horse back to Heaven.

I don't know about you, but the thought of this scared the $hi# out of me. I had ridden horses before with my grandpa, but not by myself. I didn't even know how to ride a horse by myself across a pasture, let alone ACROSS THE SKY.

So naturally I added this to the top of my list of things to worry about, and spent lots of time and energy being concerned about it.

In many ways, my propensity to worry has helped me get where I am in life. It has driven me to do more, to be better, to achieve things. But I don't always get to enjoy these achievements as much as I'd like because it can feel like I'm always worried about the next thing.

And thus, here I sit, on a Sunday night, feeling those little persistent worries creep in.

I have no idea why I'm sharing any of this malarky. For real. But I guess I was thinking that maybe if someone else out there feels this way, you might realize you aren't alone.

So how do you combat these feelings? I'm sure there are plenty of solutions. I have no idea what might work for you. Here's what helps me:

- Marry a funny guy. Or girl. Or if you opt not to be married, at least choose a partner who can make you laugh. It goes a long way in helping me with feelings of anxiety and the blues.

- Adopt a shelter pet. Or two. My dogs make a huge difference contributing to my feelings of peace and calm. Even the dearly departed ones.

- Find a spiritual community. Maybe this is a church. Or a group of other like-minded folks. It helps to be part of something where you're united in the common good.

- Consider getting some counseling. If you have issues to work through (and don't we all?), having someone to talk to really helps.

If you stumbled on this post, and anything I've written resonates with you, I hope you feel a little bit less alone. And I hope you don't spend any of your precious energy worrying about silly stuff like I have. I mean, here I am, thirty years later, and I still haven't had the chance to ride my sky horse.

Fun & Simple Valentine's Day Party Ideas for the Entire Family

Love is in the air and Valentine's Day is just around the corner! This is one of my favorite times of year. All the sugary sweetness, pink hearts everywhere, and people freely declaring their love. 

Thinking about throwing a little Valentine's Day soiree of your own? Here are some simple (and affordable) ideas the entire family will enjoy! 

1) Scale Down

There's just something about tiny things that are so cute! Valentine's Day is a great occasion to enjoy all sorts of petite treats. Plus, they are smaller so you can eat more of them. 

I found some really great selections at my local Aldi store, including these cute heart-shaped jam cookies. If you have a pedestal plate or a tiered serving plate, that would make your sweets look even more adorable. 

Another great tiny dessert to create for Valentine's Day is a mini strawberry shortcake. I picked up some really cute small parfait cups at Party City. It's all about presentation and these help you make your presentation really special. 

2) Add Some Flair

Sticking with the smaller scale, I picked up some mini muffins at Aldi as well. These are fine for store-bought, but the way to really jazz them up for a Valentine's Day party is with a little flair. 

Add some festive picks or candy accessories to give them that semi-homemade look. 

Other variations on ways to make store-bought treats more special...

1) Attach heart-shaped marshmallows to the top with a toothpick for a really sweet looking treat. 

2) Slather on some frosting (homemade or store-bought). Sometimes local bakeries will sell containers of their frosting for home cooks. This is a great way to jazz up a store-bought or box mix cake. 

3) Serve it up in Style

As I said earlier, and many times before, it's all about presentation. Two completely identical food dishes can be presented in different ways and you will think one tastes better if it's presented beautifully. 

Something easy to serve for a Valentine's Day party is popcorn. It's cheap and easy to make or you can buy it already popped. 

I melted some chocolate & white chocolate chips (tinted pink with food coloring). Then I drizzled it over the popcorn and added some pink and red candy pieces. Voila! Easy and delish. 

And to serve, I picked up some really fun little paper cones and a cute serving tray from Party City. For just a few bucks, I took this simple party food up a notch. 

You could serve plain popcorn in a boring bowl and nobody would bat an eye. But give it some pizzazz and you'll have all your guests raving.  

Valentine's Day is such a great time to share your warm and fuzzy feelings with the ones you love most. It doesn't have to be about a romantic (and expensive!) dinner out. You can enjoy Valentine's Day with loved ones of all ages, with tasty treats for everyone! 

Last Minute Valentine's Day Crafts

Valentine's Day is on a Sunday this year and for some reason, that has made me feel like I have plenty of time to prep for it. Of course, now it's just a few days away and I haven't done much of anything.

But when procrastination meets simple projects, sometimes magic results! Here are a few of my simple ideas for making the most of a last minute Valentine's Day celebration. From decorations to crafts and a few treats, there's something for everyone!

1) Heart Doily Garland 

The first doilies were created from wool by the Doily family in England, but paper doilies as we know them today weren't produced until the mid-19th century. Martha Stewart has an entire video on doily history if you have an extra four and a half minutes and care to watch! ;) 

I whipped up a simple garland using pink and white paper doilies from the Dollar General store. Some gold-threaded twine made it even more festive. The trick to using doilies for things like this is don't separate them individually. They are so fragile and thin, a stack of 5-7 made for a sturdier garland (in my opinion). 

2) Valentine Craft Jar 

Sometimes it's fun to get crafty just for the sake of it. Without any sort of end result in mind. Do you ever do this? It's kind of like doodling or sitting down to write without a story in your head. Just doing it to see where it takes you. 

That's why I've created a Valentine Craft Jar. This could really work for anytime of year, but I thought it would be fun for Valentine's Day. I gathered a bunch of different craft materials and supplies and packed them into a cute jar (including pom poms, stickers, glue, pipe cleaners, etc.) 

Then, whenever the urge for creativity strikes, I'll have everything I need in one spot. And none of it was fancy or expensive so if I don't actually make anything worth keeping, it won't feel like a waste. 

Actually, getting your creative juices flowing is never a waste, because you never know where it will lead. 

3) Fun with Puns & Jelly Beans

I'm not usually a fan of misspelled words to be cute or catchy. But if there's ever a time that cheesy puns and cute sayings are appropriate, it's Valentine's Day. The more sugary sweetness, the better (in my humble opinion).

Winter is hard. The holidays are long gone and the days are dreary and cold. If pink hearts and red cupid arrows help cheer these dark days before spring, I'm all for it. 

My local grocery store recently added a huge section of Jelly Belly jelly beans in its candy aisle. I'm totally digging the retro vibe and the new flavors so I decided to use a few of these to create fun Valentine's Day treats. 

You can probably think of others, but here's what I came up with. 

A bag of Tabasco flavored beans with a note that says "Things are heating up!" For the camo beans, "I Can't Hide My Love." And finally, "Valentine, we make quite a pear." Get it, juicy pear? 

I know it's silly, but sometimes the silly little things are really fun too. 

Another pun-inspired treat I whipped up were these fun Valentine's Day pencils with a note that says "Valentine, you're just write." I was inspired by a great blog and you can download the free printable here.

I hope you have a Happy Valentine's Day! Love is in the air! 

The Thing You Crave the Most

Cravings are strange. I'm sure there's probably lots of scientific research behind them, none of which I'm going to mention here, but if you Google "Science of cravings" you can find approximately 1,280,000 results on the subject. So there's that.

The other night my family went out to a restaurant where we've eaten for years. It's known for its seafood, but for some reason as I read over the menu, I felt like I was craving the vegetable lasagna. Even as I had the thought, another thought came to me that I probably shouldn't order lasagna at a restaurant known for its seafood...as if there were some sort of restaurant police that might not approve my decision.

Oh those darned shoulds and should nots. Why do they always rear their ugly heads? I'm not talking about a feeling in your heart that is leading you in one direction or another. I'm referring to those feelings that come based on nothing more than some abstract idea of "the right thing" to do. Why is it so hard to follow the truest desire of our heart (which seems like the most natural thing to do) and yet so easy to follow someone else's idea of what's right for us (often white knuckling our way through it, by gosh!)?

Math has never been my strong-suit, but one strategy I used as a kid to complete challenging math homework was to first think of the most basic thing I knew to be true and work my way forward from there.

Perhaps that same method could be applied in other areas of life?

When faced with a challenge where the answer doesn't seem clear, why not start at the very beginning and work your way forward from there?

What is the most basic thing you know to be true? That you're loved. That you have value. That how you feel matters. That your life has meaning, significance and purpose.

Brings a certain kind of peace, doesn't it? From this place, it's much easier to listen to your heart rather than force yourself kicking and screaming towards some reality that doesn't really serve you.

Sometimes the thing we think we crave isn't really what we want anyway. When my southern beau and I were engaged and preparing for our wedding, we created a gift registry at a local department store. As I walked around the store with that little scanner gun in my hands, I found myself scanning all sorts of things as he looked on in amusement. Finally, he asked "do we really need that many dishes?"

It wasn't until much later that I realized what I was doing. I was trying to satisfy a craving in the only way I knew how. But what exactly was I craving? Community. Somehow I believed that by having lots of dishes and serving pieces in my kitchen arsenal, I would naturally create a sense of community and a reason to invite others into our home. But all these years leading up to the wedding, I've had other dishes to speak of. And the number of times I've hosted parties or events at my home is disappointingly small. And yet my craving for community is no less great.

So where's the disconnect? Once again, all I can do is start at the beginning and think of the most basic thing I know to be true. I crave community. That place where true connection happens, where we can be our real selves, where burdens are shared and spirits are lifted just by being together.

Now, what can I do to create more of that? It's more of a rhetorical question I guess, but one I'm going to ponder and then act on.

That leaves me with this question for you. What do you crave most? What is the most basic thing you want out of this life? And what steps can you take to move toward that thing, rather than away from it? I don't have the answers, just like with all those math problems that stumped me from seventh grade pre-algebra. But I know what I know. And that's a pretty good place to start.

Engagement Photos by Zach and Sarah Photography - Tennessee

A few weeks ago my beau and I traveled to my hometown for our engagement photo session. With the wedding just around the corner, I felt like we waited too long to do the engagement pictures, plus we'd ended up rescheduling them about five times because of uncooperative weather. 

But the engagement shoot was part of our wedding photo package so we went with it. Other than various snapshots over the years, we don't really have any fancy photos together. Ultimately, I'm glad we ended up doing it because I liked the pictures and I feel like they captured our personalities. 

Sometimes engagement pictures I've seen are so cheesy...we're not really into all that posed stuff. But we had a great photographer (Zach and Sarah Photography) who did a fantastic job making us feel comfortable.

The day of the shoot, we drove all over my small hometown in search of cool spots for photos. It definitely gave me a new perspective on some places I've driven past my entire life. Each time our photographer Zach would see something he liked, we'd pull over and snap a few pics. It was a chilly, sort of overcast day and I wasn't sure how it would all turn out. But I'm pretty happy with them. 

Before too long, we'll have wedding pictures to share...but for now I'm enjoying looking through these. For more pictures by Zach and Sarah, check out their blog!

Why My Groom Won't Dance to Beyonce at Our Wedding Reception

Today I saw a video making its way around the Internet world. It brought a big smile to my face and a warm feeling inside my heart. But even as I watched it, I knew I would never experience anything like it. And that's okay. Let me explain.

The video captured a lip-sync and dancing performance of a groom at his wedding reception. He and his groomsmen took the dance floor and performed smooth dance moves for the bride, while songs by Beyonce and the Backstreet Boys played on. I immediately tried to picture my own soon-to-be groom at our upcoming wedding. I cannot on any level imagine him putting together a choreographed routine to perform. But there's a reason for this. Dancing just isn't his thing.

In fact, I can count on one hand the number of times we've danced together in public during our ten years as a couple. One was a week into our relationship when he accompanied me to my last sorority formal in my senior year of college. Another was at a gala fundraiser for the arts and then there was our infamous dance lesson.

We're not even having dancing at our wedding. When I shared this factoid with our wedding videographer, there was an uncomfortable silence on the other end of the phone.

He couldn't fathom this. Apparently dancing at weddings is sort of commonplace. Sort of the norm. The expected thing.

It's not that I'm against dancing. Quite the opposite. I dance all the time. And I love to do it. But my would-be groom on the other hand...dancing isn't really his thing.

However, there are plenty of other things that are 'his thing.'

Like filling ice cube trays. And taking out the garbage. Listening to talk radio. Reading scary books. Helping people. Taking pieces of scrap metal and crafting them into fully functional (and beautiful) tools. Driving down country roads to explore places we've never been. Making up magical stories and telling them to me over the phone when I can't fall asleep. Listening to me and really hearing what I say. Fixing things. Telling me it's going to be okay even when a situation feels otherwise.

My beau is good and brave and true. And if he doesn't want to jump around at our wedding reception, dancing to Beyonce and acting silly, that's okay. I'm marrying him for who he is...not who I might try to make him become.

The online world isn't inherently evil. But when we let it speak to us about things we think our lives are missing, it can be a slippery slope. If you didn't have "the perfect marriage proposal" you can spend hours feeling bad about yourself while watching tear-jerker, awe-inspiring proposals on YouTube. If your child is behind in school, the online child prodigy who can recite the preamble to the Constitution heaps shame on your head. And if you didn't have a great relationship with your dad, the countless dad and daughter videos of touching shared moments can leave you feeling pea green with envy.

When are we going to realize the beauty of what's right in front of us? What is it going to take for us to stop looking outside and wishing for something different....but instead find joy and contentment in the wonderful things we already have?

I couldn't care less if my groom doesn't burst into song or set up a flash mob situation at our wedding. I know that the wedding is only the first step in the rest of our life together. And I feel like that's going to be pretty great.

The next time you see something online that makes you feel less than, give yourself a break. And remember that there's really no such thing as more or less. Just different folks who enjoy different things and have different talents and gifts.