Ol' Sweet Day

 Seventeen years ago today, I became a wife. The day was absolutely fantastic, and I carry so many wonderful memories with me still. Although our marriage ended a few years ago, I still recognize and "celebrate" the day each year, because it's an integral part of my life story, and I am grateful that it happened. 

When I was married, my youngest sister was seven years-old. My former husband and I were fortunate enough to have each of our immediate siblings in the wedding ceremony, but she was the youngest bridesmaid. She was not even up to my chest in height. It was one of my dreams come true to have my siblings with me on one of the most important days of my life. 

Today, seventeen years later, wearing my grandma's wedding dress, my youngest sister became a wife.

Before she and her fiance were ever engaged, she had asked me if I would officiate her wedding someday, if her path lead her to be married. I was completely shocked, but absolutely honored, and said yes, I would be willing to have that role.  Months later, her wonderful boyfriend, now husband, proposed to her, and she asked me again, to make sure I was still willing. I was overjoyed for her, and again, said I absolutely would do that. 

The day she introduced him to myself and my children, and I saw how well they immediately got along, and how he seemed to already love my kids, who are also a big part of my sister's life as they somewhat "grew up together" (she became an aunt when she was 11), and how at ease he was with us, I fell in love with him as a man for her. As we watched their relationship continue to grow, I prayed for them, believing he would be the one she would someday marry.

Granted, I am not one who likes public speaking, but there was no reserve whatsoever in my heart. She recently told me that she knew I would be the perfect person to write her wedding ceremony and officiate their marriage. I won't lie, it made me emotional and I laid there with tears, blown away by how strongly she felt that way about me. 

Being a divorced, single momma, married just shy of ten years... I will not lie and say I had not had a few moments where I questioned whether or not I was the right person for the job. My marriage did not last. How could I possibly be a good fit for helping someone begin a new one? It took being told that I was not bad at marriage to help me reframe my view. When I thought about it with a fresh perspective, I started to see where my little sister was possibly coming from when she thought of me as the perfect fit for her wedding. I was not bad at marriage, even though it failed. And, honestly, because it failed, I have a perspective I did not have prior, as to some integral parts of what helps a marriage be strong. I laid in bed last night, unsure of myself in this role, but woke up this morning filled with joyous anticipation of the wedding to come. 

The wedding was wonderful. I was slightly nervous speaking in front of the dear family and friends who were able to attend, but as soon as I saw my brother-in-law begin escorting his mother in, my nerves were met with pure happiness. I could not stop smiling. It was a privilege to officiate alongside his grandpa, who helped with a few components of the ceremony, making it truly a special fit for both the bride and groom. When the rings were exchanged and I said they could give a great big high five (yes, that really happened, but they got to kiss after it), I had a rush of pure exhilaration, and I proclaimed them Mr. & Mrs. It was such a beautiful evening. 

My dad held on to my sister's bridesmaid dress from my wedding all those years ago. As I look at this photo of her today, holding the dress from my wedding, wearing my grandmother's dress for her own wedding, I have so many emotions. I feel slight sadness that the years go by so quickly, because even though I was 16 when she was born, I loved spending time with her (and our other sister who is a few years older than the bride) growing up. I had them visit me so many times and created some magnificent memories. I find myself in awe of the fact that not only is she my sister but one of my best friends, and that I have had the chance of seeing her as a newborn and grow into a wonderful young woman. I've been blessed by our relationship in so many unexplainable ways. There's something indescribably beautiful about having your baby sister grow into an adult best friend. To top all that off with being involved in each other's weddings, and those weddings being on the same date, and I feel overwhelmingly blessed by the gifts God has given us in this journey. 

I am so grateful that we have been key figures in each other's life stories, and our love is so deep that we can't imagine our most important days without the other. 

I wish nothing but the absolute best, and am praying a lifetime of blessings for the new husband and wife. 

It still feels surreal to say that. 

Ripping Bandaids

I've had some heartbreaks in my life.  I say this not to be dramatic, or for sympathy.  It's just fact.  Now, these heartbreaks, in some ways, define who I am as an individual.  They help develop the capacity for love and loss in my heart.  While many times, I wish that they had never happened, I know that they are my testimony.

This weekend is another milestone or anniversary-filled weekend.  I look back, and five years ago, I was losing my second baby, early on in pregnancy.  Two years ago, I was a bit terrified, knowing my then-husband was driving to my hometown to bring my children and I back to our current town, after I had fled for a few days in fear and confusion, spending them largely trying to decode mysteries and lies in our lives.  

The memories of these dates came rushing back to me this evening, as I made the drive home from taking my children to see their grandparents.

This weekend, this year, was filled with my former husband's family.  It nearly completes the first visits with each of his siblings or parents in over year (or more in some cases).  

A month and a half ago, I spent a few hours at his mother's house.  His mom has been a second mom to me for about 15 years now, but I hadn't been to her house since before he disappeared from our lives.  I hadn't been to the house I spent countless hours, days, weekends, and weeks at in over two years.  Her house was where he first told me that he wanted me to be his wife some day, that he wanted to have children with me, grow old together, and hopefully die together at the same time in a poetic Romeo & Juliet-esque finale (meaning simply at the same time or minutes apart).  We spent many holidays there together.  The house itself is jam-packed with memories that shaped who I was individually, but also who we were as a couple.  

As I drove there that day, I prayed repeatedly that God would give me strength, peace, and grace, and that I wouldn't be reduced to a blubbering ball of tears.  He answered my prayers and I didn't cry at all until the drive home.

Fast forward to this weekend, where his youngest brother, who I met when he wasn't even a teenager, who became one of my dearest friends very early on, his wife, and their infant son came to visit.  I hadn't seen them in over a year at all, since a family gathering I felt completely out of place at the summer before.  I was excited and anxious at the prospect of the three of them here, in our new home, for the first time.  I didn't want it to be awkward or silent or feel like there was a giant chasm in our relationship.  

We had a good time over lunch, watching our children laugh and play, and reminiscing some and talking about life now.  We exchanged multiple hugs, and when they left, I didn't cry at all.  I felt at peace, and I was so relieved.  

His twin brother is married to one of my dearest friends, and they live nearby.  (He was at our place also when the youngest brother was here.)  They've been around before, during, and after my life crumbled, and they've never wavered.  We see them regularly and my children adore them, as do I.  We were blessed to be able to have an afternoon adventure with them at the science center, which the children talked about the rest of the evening.  The science center and their baby cousin.  It was a good day.

Today, the children and I were journeying to my former-husband's father and step-mother's house about an hour away.  Up until today, I hadn't been there in nearly two years.  The last time we went was Thanksgiving in 2014.  He had shown up late, angry, and bitter, and the drive there was wretched, as was the drive home.  Knowing this and feeling some of the residual emotions still lingering, the prospect of going back there today, without him, was uneasy.  But, in my heart, I felt I needed to.

As I was preparing myself for the adventure today, I told a friend that it's sort of like ripping another band-aid off my heart.

The wounds that were left when our marriage crumbled were deep, intense, gaping holes.  I remembered him vividly telling me that no matter what happened, I would always be a part of his family, not only because of the kids, but because they loved me.  I tried to believe him, but always was weary of the truth, because so many of the things that he had told me in that period were blatant lies.    

While I have been in contact with the majority of his family this entire time, I hadn't gone back to his parents homes, and I hadn't seen most of them much at all, because, for all of us, it was painful.  We may not have spoken it, but it was true.  He ripped all our hearts up a bit, and seeing each other was a vivid reminder of that- the life and lives he helped create and then abandoned.  There are always questions, but most of the time they are unspoken, because we know we do not understand or have the answers.  

I have ripped nearly all of the band-aids off, in regard to his family, the other half of my family.  

Some of it remained constant, and some things have changed.

I think the changed have helped me, honestly.

There were slight differences at his mom's house.  New photos of my kids on the fridge, the basement looking completely different from it was the years I spent hanging out in it.

His youngest brother and his wife have a son.  They visited us here, our new apartment where he has never set foot.

His dad and step-mom have new furniture.  I know that sounds trivial and silly, but it wasn't like walking into a big time machine, and the newness of it helped me ease back into the walls.

I mustered up the courage to see these people all again, without him, in new circumstances, a year or more later from the times that were very meaningful in this journey.  I am so glad I did.

Because I realized, for once, he was right.  He didn't lie when he said his family would embrace me as their own, and that they wouldn't shut me out.  I haven't been replaced, and my children and I are loved and welcomed.  They still hug me and tell me they love me, and of course they do the same for my children.  Yes, there's still pain and awkward pauses, but they don't sever us like they could.  Yes, we still wonder, and yes, I still cry.  I may cry each and every time.  I don't know that it will ever be a completely pain-free experience, though I pray that it will.

 I cried today when I left his dad's house.  I realized in the moment they were hugging me that he was right about his family.  

I ripped the band-aids, and the wounds have healed.  Yes, they've scarred over some, but they're no longer gaping.   Things are definitely not the same, but they're not terrible.  In the pain we all feel, we still feel joy and blessings.  Each of the times I ripped the band-aid off, I have been told that his family hopes to see us again soon, and that they are proud of me and my children.  

I think... I think I am proud of us, too.

Transitioning

The past few nights, Spencer has been fighting sleep pretty badly.  Even for Jake the other night, he cried and screamed a few times before finally giving in to sleep.  My sister, Samantha, and I discussed it briefly tonight, as I was mentioning how it stresses me out, though I try not to let it.

After talking for a few minutes, we both concluded that it's probably a reaction to all of the transitions that have been going on the past few months, as well as those that he may be able to "sense" that are coming up over the next few months.

Now, I know I've mentioned some of these transitions and changes in blogs prior (though I truthfully haven't been keeping up with blogging as much as I would normally do, partially because Spencer's taking more and more of my attention and focus, and also I've been spending time with people when they're around and available), but tonight, I was thinking about them all over again.

I realized I'm more stressed out about things than I let myself show.  I guess that's okay, because I'm probably more pleasant to be around that way, but internally, it might be wearing me down a bit.  So, here I am, blogging again, finally.

As I've said, Jake has started a new job with Washington National. He loves it, and he's doing well, which is a huge blessing, because it's meaning I'm still able to stay home with Spencer and grow baby Bo.  But, of course, the three nights away/four days away in a row (most weeks) takes a toll on all of us.  We're still adjusting, I think.  It's hard sometimes to be the soul parent in the house for that many days, only to have everything thrown for a loop when Jake finally comes home.  Schedules differ, though I try to keep things consistent, and Spencer doesn't understand really, though he seems to be doing pretty well being flexible.

Jake and I have been trying to adjust, still, too, the two of us, and our marriage, to the new stresses and changes of his job.  Sometimes, it seems a lot harder and more stressful than I imagined, but other times, it seems like nothing's changed really.  But, it's hard, and I've been really emotional about it.  And he's been really busy, so it's not always worked out the easiest to sit down and talk things through or have one-on-one time.

Then, we've been a one-vehicle family for about two months now while our other vehicle has issues.  We haven't put the money into fixing it yet, because we've been saving up to move.

Yup, we're moving.  More on that shortly.

Two weeks ago, or so, my sisters both came to stay.  Allison, who is 13 now, stayed for two full weeks, and then on Sunday, left with my dad and brothers who came to visit.  Spencer loved having her here, and was really actually distraught when they all left us on Sunday.  He threw quite a little tantrum as soon as they walked out the door, actually.  Fortunately for him (and for me) Samantha, who is 17, is still here and is staying the duration of the summer (give or take a few days or weeks).  She's been an amazing help, I must say, in not only caring for Spencer (especially during these 100°F or hotter days when I still try to get him outside for at least a short period here and there), but also keeping me, miss hormonal-eight-month-pregnant-stressed-out-mommy in a somewhat stable emotional state.  Gosh, I'm so lucky to have her.  Seriously.

Allison is coming back in a few weeks, with my dad, who is going to help us move.  Yes, back to moving.  When Spencer and I went to visit my family in my hometown in June, we all came home to new neighbors.  Now, friends of mine on Facebook especially can vouch that I complain about our neighbors pretty consistently, and have since we moved in, basically.  I think we've gone through five different neighbors or sets of neighbors since we moved in, and only one of them (borderline two) were what I call "good" neighbors, who didn't party, stomp, slam doors, yell, etc. at various hours of the day and night.  The new neighbors are just as loud, if not louder, than ones in the past, and when we got home and found them (heard them) living above us in the middle of the night, Jake declared we were going to move.

So, I spent the better part of two or three weeks trying to track down a rental place (because we're still not in a position to really buy a home) that would have enough space, in our current budget (with Jake still acclimating to his job), and allow our dog.

Sadly, as we drew closer to our "deadline" for securing a place so we could move within our time-frame, we realized we weren't going to be able to keep Wendell with us this time.

We're blessed again, in that my dad (and siblings who live with him) offered to keep Wendell for the duration of our lease, until we can/will move again and can have him back.  Now, I will admit, our dog has the knack for driving me completely up a wall, but I love him very much.   We've had him since we were first married (minus a month and a half), and as I joked with Jake "I've spend more time with him than my actual husband" (because Wendell is always home with me, or at least 99% of the time).   Not only do I love him, but Spencer does.  Wendell is his puppy, his dog, his pal.  He talks about him and gets excited and calls all dogs "Wen-doh!" now, even though he knows that they're dogs/puppies and can say and identify them as such.

To picture the next six to twelve months without Wendell by Spencer's side makes me cry.  I'm not even kidding.  I've cried many times since realizing we couldn't have him this next move.  But, knowing that my dad will have him, and we can still see Wendell, and can and will have him back again helps.  Thank goodness!

We finally did sign a lease for a 3 bedroom, single family home.  It's a pretty nice, older place. It's got its perks and it's downfalls, but it will work for us.  We were really feeling stressed and rushed to find a place and move before our next child is born... sometime in the next 5-9 weeks, most likely.  It's less than 7 weeks until my official due date!  We knew it'd be easier on us all to move and get settled into the "new" place before we brought home a new baby, so finding one, signing the lease, and getting over there has become a main focus of our days.

Well, now it's to the packing part.  We signed to move in on July 14.  We did this last Friday, giving us approximately two weeks to go through and pack all of our stuff again. Fortunately, we're moving about a mile (maybe two?) from where we live now, so it's not a huge move, but it's still stressful.  I find it especially stressful, because, much like last time we moved, I'm nearly full-term in a pregnancy, and I'm not allowed to do what I would normally do while moving, lifting and hauling stuff.  Yes, I can fill a box, but after that, chances are I'm not supposed to be carrying it around.  And this time, we have a "helpful" toddler around who is making it pretty challenging to get much of anything done on a daily basis.

Then, we'll be moved... and transitioning to a new home.  Do we transition Spencer to his toddler bed before we move?  Right when we move?  A while after?  Originally, my reasoning for wanting him in the toddler bed was that it was physically straining me to lean over his crib railing to pat him to sleep over and over every night.  But then, we did the sleep training thing and for the most part, he is fine on his own (except the past few aforementioned nights).  So, is the necessity still there? I don't know. I don't know what would be easier on him and easier on us.  I know when we stayed at my mom's for four nights, he was trying to sleep in a new room, in a different bed (his pack and play) and he did NOT do well.  So, part of me is afraid to switch him to a toddler bed at the same time that we move, and wait it out, or do it now.  I just don't know.

And then... we'll have our second child.   We won't have our dog.  My sister may or may not be here for a bit after the new baby is born, I don't know, she hasn't really decided (either way is fine, I don't want to pressure her).  Jake will be home for two weeks or so to help me and Spencer (and himself) adjust, but then he'll be gone.. and it will be me, and Spencer, and baby Bo.  Will Spencer like having Bo around?  Will he hate it?  Will he act out?  Will I be able to handle it?  Will I be able to find help if I can't?  Will I ever sleep again?  Will we... will I... be okay?!

There's just SO MUCH going on!

Gah!

Okay, that was long.  I commend you, and thank you graciously, if you managed to read the entire thing, and have any input, advice, commiseration, or... anything... to say afterward.

Bless you.

Gosh, I love my sisters.

I must say, before I start, I have been reflecting a lot upon relationships that are meaningful in my life lately. My husband, my son, my sisters... to name a few. Fortunately, Spencer is taking a short nap again (because our loud neighbor woke us earlier), so I have a few minutes to express my thoughts again.

My sisters are AMAZING.

I'm fortunate to have my sisters not only be sisters, but also be two of my closest, dearest friends and confidants. Yes, indeed.

I am currently 28.

Samantha (or Sam) is 17.

Allison will be 13 this year.

Those are some pretty big age differences from me, obviously. But, despite that, and despite the fact that we live a few hours away, and despite the fact that I did not live with either one of them for all that long before I grew up, went to college, and got married... we're close. We're tight. We're three peas in a pod, some might say.

My sisters and I have a lot in common. We all love to read. We all love to create art. We all love music. We all love taking and editing photographs. We do that one a lot when we're together. We all love LAUGHING. We do that one even more than taking photographs when we're together. Gosh, we laugh so much. Sometimes, Jake gets to laughing just listening to us laugh. I've been known to laugh so hard I couldn't breathe. Or I'd tear up. Or I'd almost pee my pants. Or, when I was pregnant with Spencer, laugh so hard I'd gag and throw up. Yes. We love to laugh. About the strangest, smallest, most random things sometimes that no one else would really understand or think funny, but hey, they're hilarious to us!

I'm blessed to have these two lovely ladies in my life, and I love that our interests and passions are fairly similar. Especially when we are able to spend weeks together at a time and are able to capture so many moments and memories on camera. I was looking through photos of the three of us and our adventures earlier. I won't lie, I teared up. It's so easy to relive those cherished times when we take turns being behind the lens. We capture our smiles and so many other facial expressions that when I look through the photos, it's almost as if I can hear my sister's laughter and voices in the room with me. Gosh! That's SO FREAKING WONDERFUL.

In this entry, I have included a few photos from one of my favorite "shoots" together, just a few days before I found out I was pregnant with Spencer in February 2010. We were having a blast in the snow in the backyard. I've also included an older one from 2009, just because I like it.

When I moved on to college, I was very, very sad to leave my sisters behind. I felt like I was going to miss out on the majority of their childhoods. The majority of their lives. Somehow, we made it work, and while I miss random every-day things, I feel like the important stuff I'm able to be a part of, whether it's by phone, online, or in person. I'm thankful for that!

When I moved to Sioux Falls with Jake in 2009, I felt like I was abandoning them. Leaving them so far behind that I would barely ever see them, and that they'd lose touch with me. I felt like they'd hate me for not staying. I almost refused to move, actually. It was one of the hardest decisions I've ever faced. But, I had a heart-to-heart with them, and they assured me I was crazy (in nicer terms) and it wouldn't hurt our relationship. It'd probably strengthen it. Even as "little" as they are compared to me (though they'll BOTH be taller than me next week probably, Sam already is), they're so wise when it comes to matters like that.

They're so helpful, too. When they're around, they help out with Spencer, now that he's here. And, recently, over Christmas break, they pretty much cared for him non-stop, as well as helped with the majority of the housework, and helped quell my sadness and frustration with basically being bedridden with sciatica. My little sisters did! I was beyond blessed to have them here when they were!

I like to think I'm some sort of inspiration (haha, maybe that's one big high hope) and role model for them, in at least some way. I hope to be. I hope to be leading a good example for them.

I can't wait until I can see them again. Today, especially, for some unknown reason (most likely, I guess, the photographs I was looking through), I miss them, and I want them here right now. But, I know that's not possible. I'm hoping to see them in a few weeks, if possible.

For now, I think this shall be all.

In summary, I love my sisters.

Please, don't take them!

Tomorrow, my dad is coming to Sioux Falls to visit. When he leaves, he'll be taking my younger sisters back home.

They've been visiting since I picked them up on July 29th. We've been having an amazingly fun, laughter-filled time together. While, I'm sure they're probably ready to be away from a baby crying in the middle of the night, I hope they're a little hesitant to leave at least.

We've had a lot of fun adventures since they arrived. We've gone shopping, swimming at pools, playing at the spray park, going to the water park, volunteering at the humane society, taking a trip to the butterfly house and aquariums, watching a movie in a park, enjoying the falls, relaxing at Barnes and Noble, playing at various playgrounds, renting movies and eating popcorn, going to a Go Fish concert, writing with glow sticks in the dark, going to the Sioux Empire Fair wandering around downtown, eating cupcakes, and laughing our butts off until we could barely breathe. Many activities involved other people, too, like Jake, Jesse, Samantha, Tarah, Rena, and Kayla and her family (of course, Spencer, too).

I think we've acquired at least 3 new punchline-inside jokes that keep coming up in our daily conversations, causing us to giggle like freaks.

We've taken over a hundred photos of Spencer!

It's been amazing. I wish they lived closer. Even though they're 12 and 16 years younger than me, we're close, and we have such wonderful times when we're together. I HATE seeing them leave.

Tomorrow, like I said, my dad will come, we'll go to the zoo, and then they'll be gone.

I wish we could pause tonight, just for a little while. Next week, the house will seem so quiet, and lonely.

For the Sake of Happiness.

I tell you what, this past week has been one of the most stressful weeks I've endured in quite some time.. if not ever. I am not going to go into any details right now, but when it is all said and done with, I will explain. For now, you'll have to deal with online ambiguity of it all, and just know that things are extremely stressful with our rental home.

Because of this, I haven't been feeling well, sleeping well, and have been trying really hard not to be negative all the time. I feel like I'm doing a pretty good job, but the stress is taking its toll on me, I can tell.

I'm trying to remain positive, though, because I don't really want the "prolonged maternal stress" to cause premature labor.

So, happy time.

My sisters (Samantha, 15, and Allison, 11) have both been at my house for the last week. While tomorrow is their last day here as my dad is taking them both home to Minnesota when he leaves town, we have, in my opinion, had a pretty good time together.

Sam and I went to MN to get Allie on Saturday, and came back to Sioux Falls after a brief visit with my mom and brother at their work-place. We had supper with Jake, and then that night, went out to see "Vampires Suck" together at the theater. Now, I didn't really care for it at all, actually, but I did enjoy how much my sisters and husband laughed through the whole thing.

On Sunday, we went to Wild Water West, the local waterpark. It was incredibly hot outside, but we had a great time! We started out with mini-golf, but after getting overheated and exhausted by it, we hit up the wave pool. That was by far, my favorite! We were in there for quite some time before getting out for a break. Jake used the waterslides (I was not allowed), and then he and Allison went on the lazy river. Samantha and I went back to the wave pool, and then Jake and Allie joined us again, and we had a great time, until I announced I was getting really hungry and we came home. After supper, Samantha and Jake went back and rode go-karts. I'm not sure if they did anything else.

The week was a little less eventful, but we spent time together every day anyway. We had dinner together every night, which is fun for me, because after they leave, I'll be eating alone most nights. We watched a bunch of movies too, and had popcorn! I love popcorn.

Wednesday, Jake was home, and so we all took Wendell (and Bud, my cousin's wife's dog) to the dog park, because it's finally open again. They had a great time, as did we!

We've visited Barnes and Noble a few times. Last night, we were there for over three hours, writing letters to family members in the military, and laughing our butts off.

We have also been working on fleece tie-blankets for children in Haiti, as a comfort project that is going on at my workplace.

Today, after we finish our showers (I'm already clean, woohoo!) we are going to Oh My Cupcakes downtown, to enjoy a delectable baked good. Not sure what we'll do after. I'm sure we'll have fun, though!