Happy Fifth Anniversary!!! (a little late)

Sixteen year old Brian and eighteen year old me!!! (It's not the best pic but it's the oldest of us together.)

December 27th, 2003

Brian and I now... five years of marriage... god willing many more to come!!!

How it all started:

We met during high school in the fall of 2000 when we had fourth period earth science together. At first I didn't like Brian at all. He was loud and obnoxious. A trouble-maker and a class clown. Secretly I thought he was a pothead!!! (If only you could have seen him then you would understand. He had spiky hair with blond tips and probably every other day or so wore this grateful dead tye-dye shirt with cut-off camouflage shorts and shoes with grinding plates on the bottom!!!)One of the first things I think he ever said to me was to sniff me, laugh and say that I smelled like fish. What an endearing compliment. But what can I say, you do and say the strangest things when you're a sixteen year old boy.Yet somehow this strange little creature began to grow on me. I looked forward to going to class and seeing his bright blue eyes shining and hearing his constant laughter and jokes. Our teacher and Brian made this silly bet about him making a hundred on the next test. (For Brian in those days 100's were few and far between) So on my eighteenth birthday he called me and I helped him study for the test. I made a 102 and my loud, obnoxious, smiling, funny Brian made a 103. Of course he found this beyond hilarious and nearly eight years later I still here about that test. After the test in true high school kid fashion we began writing notes back and forth and I wrote this absolutely silly little note to him on December 6th telling him that I liked him. That night he called me up and asked me to be his girlfriend. How cute and innocent our story began. Somehow I doubt that teenagers today have quite the same stories. So since December 6th , 2000 we've been Brian and Elizabeth. Elizabeth and Brian. Hardly ever one without the other. We did have a few on again off again times during our dating days but we're not counting those : ) After eight years together and five years of marriage I couldn't imagine my life without him. And if I were being honest sometimes whenever he wears his favorite camouflage shorts I wish he'd throw on a tye-dye shirt, grinding shoes, spike his hair, and sniff me just for old times sake!

Apart for X-mas :(

Leave it to the Navy to screw up my holiday plans!! Brian didn't put in to take leave over the holiday weekend so now as a result he gets to have duty the week of Christmas and the following weekend. Port and Starboard duty- which means he's on duty every other night. "Duty" only means he has to call in that morning and check in but he could possibly get called to come in which means he's not allowed but so many miles from base and since North Carolina is just over 400 miles away... looks like, for Brian atleast, North Carolina is a no go. I however am still planning on going to the good old NC for Christmas. Considering that my dad's mom just passed away a few months ago and my two remaining grandparents aren't in the best of health I just feel like I need to be there for Christmas. I've never had a Christmas outside of North Carolina... it just wouldn't seem like Christmas if I wasn't there. In 2005 Brian got home 5 days before Christmas. In 2006 he was on the USS Mason in the Persian Gulf. Last year he was home and we actually got to spend Christmas in North Carolina together. But it looks like this year we'll be spending the holiday apart again. I'll be chilling with my family in the lovely little town of Salisbury and Brian will be here in Jax having lunch with his bike club and going to the movies with his friend Stu. Sounds like his Christmas is going to be a blast. So thanks again to the USN- they sure know how to make the holiday season fantastic.

Pics from our last Christmas spent apart. The first pic is Brian helping decorate the shop he worked in on the ship. The second is when he called me and I opened his presents for him and told him what they were. It was Christmas eve for me but already Christmas in the Persian Gulf where he was at. The third picture I took to send him on Christmas day. (Wow. Just ignore the crazy red eyes I'm sporting. )

It's Beginning to Look alot Like Christmas

Sid Vicious- Only the coolest, most awesome dog ever!!

Good? Bad? Definately Cheap.

I managed to drag the hubby out Christmas shopping with me today. (Which was quite a feat in itself.) So while buying presents for others I decided to treat myself with a little present too! Tis the season for giving and all but what's wrong with just a little "getting" amongst all of that giving? Right? Anyway. Back on topic. I wanted a new pair of pajama pants from Old Navy. Just the other week Old Navy had all pajama bottoms on sale for $10, so I want in there planning on spending only $10. Problem was they weren't on sale anymore for ten but rather were full price at fifteen. Yeah, yeah that's only a five dollar difference but hey five dollars is five dollars. Well I quickly realized that the pajama pants in the girls section were still on sale for ten. And yes I do mean the little girls section. So here was my dilemma- pay fifteen dollars and walk out with my dignity?. (What 26 year old woman shops for clothes in the little girls section?) Or do I save the five extra dollars, tell the clerk they're a present for my younger cousin, then secretly take the home and wear them myself?

Needless to say I am now the proud owner of some very cute size XL GIRLS pajama pants and my bank account balance is $5 higher because of my cheapness. Dignity be damned!!!

HSL 40 Christmas Party

Full circle

My life has come full circle. Today makes the 365th day since I was pregnant. A full year seperates Brian and I from our baby. Or in more exact terms the loss of our baby. It seems like it should be years that seperate us from that moment, thousands and thousands of days not just 365 short ones. A year ago I never thought I would get over that moment. The moment when our child appeared in grainy black and white on the ultrasound screen. Perfect in every way except that his/her tiny little heart was no longer beating. I never thought I'd get over the anger. The hurt. Frustration. Tears. Of being forced to let go. Never knowing what our little one would have looked like, sounded like, smelled like... I could go on and on about how 365 days ago I didn't see how I was ever going to move on from that moment.

Yet here I am and moved on I did. Whether from choice or because life simply carries you forward inspite of yourself who's to say. But 365 days later I'm here and I'm whole and I'm okay. I no longer feel angry when I look back on what Brian and I lost... I no longer want for what could have been. I'm grateful for the fourteen weeks that I carried our child. I'm grateful that for atleast a little while our baby existed inside of me, in our hearts and minds and in our dreams. And oh what big dreams we had for that little one. I still get weekly emails from some babysite that tells me what my six month old would be doing now. I might not have a six month old but I like the simple reminder of what might have been. I like to remember... sometimes I'm afraid I don't remember enough. Remembering is all I have left and I feel blessed by the fact that I can recall our baby's image to mind and have it bring a smile to my face and not a frown.

If not for Bad Luck we'd have no luck at all!!!

~My grandmother died

~The jeep breaks down on the way to NC and her funeral, turns a six hour trip into an eleven hour trip

~I get a kidney infection

~Brian's wallet and cell phone flies out of his backpack when his riding his motorcycle home from work

~Brian's jeep gets towed after he unknowingly parks it in a no parking zone

~On the way to pick up the jeep from the tow company my car breaks down on the side of the interstate and now we have to my car towed

Talk about a bad week! I'm almost afraid of what's going to happen next.

One less Elizabeth...

In 2003 the world lost an Elizabeth Readling. I got married, and become a Matthews. Today the world lost another Elizabeth Readling. My grandmother and namesake past away. I'm not exactly sure how I feel right now. I'm sad and upset but at the same time relieved that atleast now her fight is over, she's at peace now. No one can ever say that my grandmother didn't "fight the good fight." She was one tough cookie, the original Elizabeth Readling. She survived cancer, numerous heart attacks and a stroke. And through it all she always kept her faith. I remember every friday when I'd spend the night with her she would always say the Lord's Prayer before she went to sleep... every friday with no fail it would always be the same thing... so this one's for you grandma...

"Our Father who art in heaven,

hallowed be thy name,

to kingdom come,

thy will be done

on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread

and forgive us our trespasses

as we forgive those who trespass against us.

Lead us not into temptation and deliver us from evil,

for thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory forever and ever.

Amen."

Random quotes

"This is fish number six hundred and forty-one in a lifetime of goldfish. My parents bought me the first one to teach me about loving and caring for another living breathing creature of God. Six hundred and forty fish later the only thing I know is that everything you love will die."

"I've met God across his long walnut desk with all his diplomas hanging on the wall behind him, and God asks me, "Why?" Why did I cause so much pain? Didn't I realize that each of us is a sacred, unique snowflake of special unique specialness? Can't I see how we're all manifestations of love? I look at God behind his desk, taking notes on a pad, but God's got this all wrong. We are not special. We are not crap or trash either. We just are. We just are and what happens just happens. and God says, "No that's not right." Yeah. Well. Whatever. You can't teach God anything."

My grandmother is dying.

My grandmother is dying.
I shared a name with her for 21 years. Spent almost every friday night over her house from the time I was two til she entered a nursing home my senior year of highschool. She taught me how to cook pancakes and bacon and egg sandwiches. Bought me my first pet. Cheered faithfully and whole-heartedly for me at various soccer, basketball, and softball games. Showed me how to play the piano... so many memories of so many things. And now she's dying. And I'm mostly reminded of all the time I haven't spent with her in the past few years. All the times I've been to North Carolina to visit and haven't stopped by to see her. I was so selfish. It was hard to see her because for the past five years or so it really wasn't the "her" I remember that I would be seeing. She had a stroke ten years back or so and over time her personality changed, she changed. She was physically weak, usually either mad or crying, not always mentally there. So I slowly pulled away. Away from this woman who had loved me so deeply and had done so much for me. It was easier for me that way...damn selfish me!!! Now she's dying and I can't get back any of the time I missed. I think I'll always hate a part of myself for not being the grandaughter that she deserved to have. Regardless of what I have or haven't done...of how I feel or don't feel the facts still remain...
I am selfish.
and
My grandmother is dying.

My own answers.

For as long as I can remember my faith has always seemed to be in this constant state of tug-of-war. Always push. Pull. Love. Hate. Acceptance. Defiance. I never seem to find a constant way of being. Of believing. Am I wrong to think there should be some kind of constant, some order to my beliefs? Why can I be so sure of God for a few minutes and yet so doubtful during all the other long hours of the day. Organized religion baffles me. How can so many people of different religions be so confident that their faith isn't misplaced. Obviously someones is. Everyone cannot possible be right. In the same token everyone can't possible be wrong. I guess I worry because I have never known anything other than Christianity. Do I blindly follow simply because I haven't been taught anything else? I think faith like that is weak. If we accepted everything we have been taught at face value where would that leave us. If you believe in God simply because Christianity has been drilled into your head from infancy on what good is it? How would you ever know if God was real or just some idea you've had force fed to you since you could talk? If I'd been born into a Buddist family those ideas and values are all I would have been exposed to. To simply accept what you've been raised to believe, would seem to me, a great disservice to yourself and to your God. If I'd been taught from elementary school on that there where fifteen planets in our solar system and that three others were exactly like earth that's what I would have believed from then on. I would never have any way of ever knowing that what I had learned was false. I want my belief to be built on my own foundation not that of my mother's or my grandmother's. I want to learn and discover on my own who and what God is to me. A personal relationship with God... that's what I'm after. Not a belief that waffles and threatens to leave me stranded when I need it the most. That is why I question. If you don't ever question God you'll never get any answers. And that's what I want most. My own answers. Not everyone elses. Simply my own.

Moving mountains?

There's this well known verse in the bible that reads, "He replied, It's because you have so little faith. I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, "Move from here to there" and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you." (Matthew 17: 20)
Well I'm definately not moving mountains so I must be sorely lacking in the faith department... (not that I see to many other people moving mountians at all really.) I know that the failing is in me and not God... but really... to have faith that could move mountains!!! That just seems to be out of everyone's grasp. I suppose it's possible, well to be truthful I see it as pretty damn near impossible. It's hard to have faith that strong when you're talking to God, praying for something and you feel as though you might as well just be beating your head up against a brick wall. It always seems that whenever I actually take the time to stop and actually pray for something whole heartedly and consistently God gives me the exact opposite of what I'm praying for. I remember being at the hospital after having our first ultrasound that said there was no heartbeat and praying and praying that they were wrong and this next ultrasound would show a heartbeat. Praying to God to just let my baby live... needless to say it wasn't to be nor was it to be recently when I prayed so hard for a close friend's baby boy to make it. I know, I know that's not how it's supposed to work... people will say that it was God's will for the babies to die. I don't buy that BS for a second though. It wasn't his will or his plan... he just chose to not intervene and somehow I've got to learn not to take his lack of action personal. You can't always get the answer you want. God isn't going to swoop in like some superhero and save you from every bad situation you encounter here on earth. That doesn't mean he's not with you and doesn't care about you... it just means that I've got to accept that since my faith is lacking God isn't going to grant me the power to move mountains or even anthills for that matter. It isn't God's fault that my prayers don't get answered, it's mine because I go in believing they won't be answered in the first place. So if anyone knows where I could pick up a little extra faith so I could start working on that mountain just let me know. I have the feeling though that God intended for me to move my mountain one shovel full of dirt at a time!

Praying for Babies

WOW! So I haven't written/blogged anything in forever. I think maybe that was part of me trying to put the past behind me. Just living in the moment, taking life day by day. Writing makes me disect things to much. I ask to many questions of myself, others, events in general. It felt good to just live on the surface for awhile... to take things at face value... to just be...
But something had to bring me back. Back to thinking and writing and wanting to remember. I have two really good friends who are currently in the hospital, currently about to deliver. Two friends, two different situations, two people who you would say are in need of prayer. I don't hold much stock in prayer. Not in it's ability to change situations but I do perhaps believe in it's abilty to hold people up and carry them through tough times. Two friends. One who believes in the power of prayer. One who absolutely does not. One who has spent everyday and every night of the past month praying for her baby. The other, I highly doubt has sent even one single prayer heavenward for her babies. The one who has yet to pray is 32 weeks and expecting twins. Her babies will very likely survive and after some time spent in the NICU will more than likely thrive. Yet the friend who has done nothing but pray, who so many people (including me, Mrs. Doubting Thomas herself) have prayed for... at only 22 weeks her baby is up against almost impossible odds. What does that say for the power of prayer. What fairness is there in that. Why is one friend given two and the other most likely isn't even allowed to keep her one? They both are equally deserving. Both would be amazing moms for these babies. Why do some people get to keep their babies while others are forced to return theirs to heaven? Obviously it isn't based on prayer. So why do we pray? What purpose is there in it? How can I believe in God but not believe he answers our prayers? This whole prayer question is one that continues to baffle me... so until I understand why I feel the need to pray even though I lack the belief in it, I guess I'll just keep sending my requests and hopes heavenward and see if HE ever gives me the answers I'm looking for.

empty rooms

So I find myself yet again in the "baby's room"... the now completely cleaned and organized baby's room.

Baby's room but no baby?

But thankfully, gratefully atleast for this moment, right here and right now... I am okay with that. It feels good to be in this now empty room... a room that is completely unfilled... a room that is open to and waiting for what the future has to fill it with. I'm not ready to begin that journey yet... one day soon I might... or maybe it will be months and months before we are ready to start down that path again... but the "baby's room" is ready and waiting for whatever miracles life has in store for it!

Finding happiness

I promise not to be sad or gloomy today... but I am going to talk about babies... and how we are deciding to not try again atleast for the moment (which for us means some form of birth control because as we have already found out we seem to be very fertile considering I got knocked up last time the second month of trying) I know this is making no sense. Wasn't I the sad little girl on here last night crying over how much I desperetly wanted a baby? I was and maybe that is the problem. I feel like I need to learn how to be happy with how things are right now. Find happiness in my family as it is. And oh there is happiness... I've just been so blinded by wanting and missing to enjoy Brian or even my parents or friends. So atleast for a few months we are going to keep the Matthews family at just the two of us. We are planning alot of date nights and weekend trips (all things that become difficult after you have a baby). I feel like I've been neglecting my husband and putting him on the back burner so to speak and that's never a good thing. So that's where I'm at right now... trying to find peace in my life as it is before we move forward to the next chapter.

moving on?

This evening Brian went to bike night and I got the bright idea to clean or more specifically to clean/organize our throw-everything-into-it-and-shut-the-door-room, aka the room that we refer to as the baby's room or the nursury. Stupid me, again. I thought that I could handle it... had put all of those stupid wasted tears behind me... but after coming across what were to be the baby's things and hearing that damn George Strait song (I saw God today) on my random playlist... needless to say I lost it... so here I am surronding by trashbags filled with things to throw away and give away, boxes, and an almost empty closet with a few lonely 0-3 months onesies and baby clothes... yep here I am in the same place I was December 12th... empty, sad, bitter, wanting... wanting something so much and so badly... yet not knowing if I will ever have it... not sure if I could hold it together if we conceived and lost another one... so where does that leave me? (other than on the floor typing and crying over things lost but never forgotten?)

Blue's Festival Pics

Dad went to listen to "the blues" while mom and I soaked up some sun on the beach. After an hour and a half or so a storm was rolling in and we didn't want to get soaking wet or struck by lightning, so we kept trying to call dad to see if he was ready to go... but he couldn't hear us over the music! Luckily we made it back to the car right before it started pouring



My lovely parents - 27 years of marriage and counting.



Father and daughter. We look alot alike... how scary is that!!!

Motorcycle chick

Didn't have to be into work today until noon which was a treat considering I 'm usually there at 7. (Although it wasn't a treat to have to close today, which meant me getting off at six thirty instead of four.) Getting back on track... I slept in (my favorite activity) and then left for work. I got about five mintutes from the house when my husband calls me and wants to know where I'm at.
"I'm heading to work," I say.
"Yes. I know," he says. "But where are you at?"
"Only about five minutes from the house."
"Great. Turn around."
"What?" Now I'm really confused.
"Turn around and come back home, I want to take you to work on my motorcycle."
And you know what I said? "Okay."
He had got off work early after PT and he wanted to take me so we could spend more time together. I'm always quick to complain about us not getting enough time together but this wasn't exactly what I had in mind. Nevertheless I turned around and let him strap that silly helmet with the mohawk on top on my head, climbed on the back of that deathtrap and let him take me to work. And you know what?!? It was fun. After I got over the initial fear of falling and hitting the pavement with every turn I actually enjoyed myself. I even let him pick me up from work on that silly thing. I guess the motorcycle is growing on me... just don't ever let Brian know I said that.

ER visit

Today was pretty much completely unproductive and for poor Brian, a waste of a day off. We spent all morning and afternoon (8-3) at the Navy Hospital because I had a cyst on my ovary that burst. Before today I was unware that I even had any cyst and god willing will never have any again. Last night my stomach started to hurt pretty severely and by this morning I was pretty sure I was dying! (I'm only half joking but hey I am a wimp and have zero pain tolerance.) So Brian took me to the ER and many hours of waiting and getting poked and prodded in places it's never fun to be poked and prodded in (atleast by doctors- hehe) I was prescribed some vicodin, a no "activity" for a week order, and an appointment in a couple of weeks to go back to get poked and prodded in those fun places once again. So now here I am at 11:30 at night and while I should be sleeping I'm being stubborn and trying not to take my pain pills again... I should probably just break down and take them but I have zero tolerance and just a few hours ago I was completely out of it due to those lovely little white pills... guess I'm going to give in and take them so I can get some sleep before work tomorrow... if there happens to be any weird post on here tonight or early tomorrow I cannot be held responsible... it's just the vicodin blooging.

Memories of Brian's time @ HSL 46

Make an on-line slideshow at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Brian is checking out of HSL 46 this week. He's been with 46 since we first got orders to Mayport, four years ago next month. (For those of you who are not Navy inclined Brian is in the avaiation department and instead of being assigned to a ship he was assigned to a helicopter squadron where he's worked as an aviation electician on 60's/seahawks) He'll go to school for the next two months @ NAS JAX, take a months leave and then start (just a few helo hangers down) at HSL 40 for TWO years of shore duty!!! Three cheers for shore duty!!! He has made some great friends while working at 46, went up two ranks, been to Autec in the Bahamas, been on two and a half deployments, three different ships (the Klakring, the Monteray, and the Mason) and got to visit some pretty amazing places... Italy, Spain, Greece, Portugal, Dubai, Germany, England, Scotland, the Netherlands, Estonia, Poland, St. Kits, Cuba, Belgium...I'm sure I'm missing some... mainly places in the Persian Gulf I can't pronounce much less spell and several islands in the Carribbean.
As cheesy as it may be I am sooo proud of him for all of the days, weeks, and months that he spent out at sea doing his job and serving his country. Job well done Brian! Cherish your memories and let's move on forward to HSL 40 and your TWO years of shore duty.

"One of the Best Days of His Life."

Yesterday was as said by Brian "One of the best days of his life!!!" He traded in his little-practice- learn how to ride- Enduro motorcyle and "FINALLY" (his words again not mine) bought the bike of his dreams. And while he was beyond excited, I was pretty much beyond scared. Days like these make me even more aware of what exact opposites my husband and I are. Motorcycles scare me to death which made for an interesting trip around the block when he talked me into riding on the back. I held on to him for dear life and screamed with every turn!! If we could have just rode straight on never having to turn, go through any curves, or switch lanes I might have been fine... because every time the bike went any way but straight forward I could have sworn we were going to fall over. And he thinks I'm going to get a little matching helmet and ride around town with him. HA! I'm not so sure about that.

trying again

Journey into parenthood- take two.

Brian and I have decided to TRY for baby number two.

(Yes, I do think of it as baby number two. Though our first child never took his or her first breath, never made it out of the womb and into the world, I will always love and remember them the same as if I had held them, named them, or had the chance to see them face to face.) We are EXCITED

WORRIED

SCARED

HOPEFUL

OPTIMISTIC

HAPPY

lot's of emotions rolled into one.

What if this time I don't even get pregnant?

What if we do, but lose this baby as well?

I hesitate to become to hopeful or pray specifically for a healthy baby. I simply pray that Brian and I have the strength to handle whatever cards life decides to deal us. I hope that anyone else sending a prayer heavenward would pray the same. I want a child but yet refuse to ask for a baby. I'm just thankful for the chance to try again. In life you can't always recieve what you want... I just want to be able to be at peace with whatever we are given (or not given).

Hopefully God doesn't think that is to much to ask.

Doubting Thomas

I made this music player at MyFlashFetish.com.

God and reasons?

"Everything happens for a reason!"
The catch all phrase to explain the unexplainable. People love to say that God has plans that us mere humans cannot even begin to understand. And that God never gives you more than you can handle. As if God perches upon the edge of some golden throne in heaven and imposes his wishes at will... "that one I will allow to lose a child, no worries she can handle it"... "oh and that young man can battle cancer, sure he'll have a tough go at it for awhile but he will come out of the whole ordeal with a new lease on life"... "perhaps this one can lose her job, house, and family all in one day, in ten years she'll understand why"
Oh ye of little faith. (Me of little faith.) Maybe it's just me but I have a hard time believing in a God who ALLOWS horrible things to happen to his followers. Or even perhaps causes them to happen. I believe in a higher power I'm just trying to come to my own conclusion of what God is to me. I feel like for the past 25 years my view of God has been dead wrong. For the longest time I thought, wished, or hoped that if I believed enough, prayed enough, worshipped enough that God would somehow ease this or that, give me this or that, so on and so forth. Yet if God did do all those things who wouldn't believe in him? You could pray yourself to a new car or worship your way out of any illness. As depressing and as sad as it may be I don't think that God (generally, I'm open to exceptions) has his hand in our lives on earth. Here he doesn't impose his will, rather it's our will or the will of the world that we live by. I'm not by any means saying that God isn't present... just that he isn't governing events or placing things in our paths for us to learn from. I don't think that a loving God would do that. (Why would he give me hope of a child only to take it back fourteen weeks later) I think that life is just life...that things happen for no rhyme or reason... and to keep from becoming too terrified of the uncertain of it all we invent and create reasons. Is it so bad of a thought to say that it is just because it is? Maybe I'm completely off base and two weeks from now I could be writing pages and pages on what God has personally done for me in my daily life but for now I'm not convinced that their is any devine reasoning behind earthly events. The trick here is believing in GOD despite, or should I say in spite, of the lack of rhyme or reason. And I do. Somehow in someway I do believe in GOD. I just need to sort out who my GOD is and what he means to me.

Jogging in the Rain

I hate to say this but, jogging is actually beginning to grow on me. I know, I know, I'm even shocked to be writing it myself. There's just something satisfying about running, channeling all of your energy into moving forward, step after step. It's nice to feel my daily sidewalk journey getting easier and easier the more I travel it. To be able to run the same distance with less effort than the day before. It's also nice to have my husband as my running partner. We talk more jogging and walking then we do sitting on the couch. It's great getting to spend that extra time doing something together since we spend most of the day apart at work. Tonight's jog should have been a disaster, the only reason it wasn't was Brian. I had horrible cramps and once we were a mile and a half away from the house it began to rain! So here I am PMSing, crampy, and jogging in the rain. I'm complaining and Brian is smiling. He is laughing and singing every song he can think of that is about rain. It's Februaury, we're running in the rain and he thinks it's great fun!! He gave me his hoody to wear so I'd stay warm and grabbing my hands tries to dance around with me saying how romantic it is to be stuck together out in the rain. Somehow with cold rain pouring down on me and a combination of snot and water running down my face from my nose, romance is the farthest thing from my mind. Yet here he is having a grand old time... so I can't help but to laugh along with him. He's funny and cute and soaking wet. He makes me shiver a little less. Forget the water sloshing around in my running shoes. Makes me so grateful that I have him to "run" through life with! Even if sometimes it is in the pouring rain!

Happy Birthday Ciara!!

Ciara decorating her birthday cake.

New shoes.

"Hook Em Horns" Madison!!!

She has absolutely no fear, she'd climb to the top of everything if we let her.

Sliding down the fireman's pole.

Spinning round and round!!!

To Madison that is NOT the "Rock On" symbol, she's a Texas girl so it's "Hook 'Em Horns."



Today Brian and I stole Madison (our good friends Dallas and Megan's daughter) and headed over to Ciara's eighth birthday party. Afterwards we went to the park and let Madison run off some of that birthday cake energy before we returned her home!

Icyhot

Ah, the smell of icyhot!!! For the past week or so that seems to be all I smell. I smell like icyhot. My husband smells like icyhot. Our bedroom smells like icyhot. Even our cats smell like icyhot. (Don't even ask about that one? Brian thought it would be an interested experiment to put it on Gangsta Whitie and Cameron and watch for their reaction.) Why does everything in my world smell like icyhot?? The culprit of that would be "the muffin top." Brian and I have continued to go jogging around the neighborhood most days after work. Even though I come away with sore and achy muscles I'm actually making progress. Today we ran just over a half mile without me dropping dead onto the sidewalk. It may not seem like much of a distance but when you take into effect that I have got to be the worst jogger ever... well lets just say the distance is a virtual marathon for me. (Thank God Florida doesn't have hills- though the 80 plus degree weather in February isn't helping!) I'm starting to be able to push myself a few more blocks than my body wants to go. That's a small milestone, being able to talk myself out of giving up. Whether I learn to like it or not I'm going to keep running. It's been good for me. And as small a thing as it seems it feels good to acomplish the small goals that I set for myself. Brian makes me run one lightpost farther everyday. So here's to conquering "the muffin top" one lightpost at a time!

Waiting on billboards

Still no billboards.
In a way I think that God conceals from us his exact wants and needs. Us having free will and all he probably has to. He can't tell us what to do- that would defeat the purpose. Answers being concealed as they are and all I think that maybe foster care is an easy out for me. Don't get me wrong, it's a wonderful thing and I think that I'm meant to do it one day but right now for me it's like a cop out. With foster care you know that the child will eventually be taken away. With foster care their is certainty. You are aware of the outcome before you enter in to it. With trying to have another baby their is no certainty, no guarenteed outcome. I'm scared of losing another child. Scared of trying. I'm afraid of not knowing how things will turn out. Does that knowledge give me my answer. I'm not sure. I really want Brian and I to have a baby of our own but do I have the guts to try? Can I handle it if something goes wrong again? Let me try this one more time...come on God...
Where is my billboard?

Choices

"If you limit choices only to what seems possible or reasonable, you diconnect yourself from what you truly want, and all that is left is compromise."

Forever it seemed that I was one track minded. I wanted to try for a baby so bad... wanted pregnancy and our own biological child... couldn't wait until Brian was ready to try. And then it happened. We tried. Two months later I was pregnant. And fourteen weeks later it was over. We were devasted. It was a horrible moment in our lives but we survived. Afterwards all I could think of was trying again. The doctor gave us the go ahead to try in two months and encouragement that the next pregnancy would most likely be normal.
So now we start trying again, right?
I keep having second thoughts. That maybe having our own child isn't what is right for us now... isn't what God has planned for us... isn't what he is wanting out of us. (Now I'll be the first to admit that me and God aren't exactly on a first named basis at the moment. I struggle with my faith. I waffle and wonder @ times. I believe in him, well I'm pretty sure I do. I've been or have tried to be a loyal follower at times. All I can say is that it's like on myspace or facebook where you define your relationship status- I'd say that between me and God it's complicated) Anyway.?! Whether it's divine intervention or not, I keep having this nagging feeling that Brian and I should pursue being foster parents. Though this might seem like an idea straight out of left field I've thought of being a foster parent before. Brian and I even discussed it a few years ago. My calling in life is defiantely working with children. And Brian himself had a childhood straight out of HELL. The thought of being able to help a child out that could have just as easily been my husband 23 years ago is wonderful. But what to do. Which choice to make. If only I had a clear cut answer. Some sign to point me in the right direction. I think that's one reason that it's complicated between me and God right now. I always ask him what he wants of me but I never recieve an answer. (Or maybe I am just to blind in my faith to see his answer?) I don't need some subtle answer. Why can't God just give me a billboard or a flashing neon sign that says, "Elizabeth do this or that." Until I get my billboard I guess I'll just keep pondering the choices. Waiting and wondering and hoping that God's going to shove Brian and I in the right direction.

Battle of the "muffin top."

Day two in the battle of the muffin top!
Let's be honest. I'm not even sure if you could call what I have a "muffin top." Afterall it's just my curves rebelling against my size two jeans... but I refuse to go up a size... I will win this battle and tame my little muffin belly back into submission. Realistically can I expect to be the same size and shape I was when I was eighteen? Probably not but I can try!!! Yesterday my husband and I went on over a three mile walk and today we did a walk/jog, well mostly walk (thanks to me) of two and a half miles. I am most defiantly not a natural runner. I've always envyed those people who seem to get joy and relaxation out of a nice jog. Try as I might I fear that will probably never be me! I huffed and puffed. My legs burned and my sides ached and I felt like I was about to hurl every few minutes or so. And when then going gets tough, the tough get going right? No. I stop and suck for air like I'm drowning and double over in pain. I don't seem to have that motivation, that extra push, that ability to block out the pain and continue. I give up way to easily and I don't really like that about myself. Maybe this whole jogging thing will turn into more than just a weapon against the muffin top. Maybe it will turn into a tool of self improvement. Eventually maybe I'll learn how to push myself. How to keep going and moving ahead when I'm dead sure that it'll kill me to take another step. To be a person of persistance. And if all of that is to lofty of a goal atleast a person without "muffin top."

The Day the Xbox Died.

"And in the streets; the children screamed,

The lovers cried and the poets dreamed.

But not a word was spoken;

The church bells all were broken.

And the three men I admire most;

The father, son, and the holy ghost,

They caught the last train for the coast.

The day the "!!!xbox!!!" died."

Oh what a sad, and yet joyful occasion. Brian's beloved xbox is broken. It's under warranty so he has to send it in but the whole process could take up to a month. One whole month without his xbox 360!!! You'd think that he had just lost his best friend. I on the other hand will enjoy my month without the sounds of gunfire ringing through the house as he plays "call of duty". Or not having to watch the lovely almost pornograffic animated girls parading across the screen in some racing game. And whatever will I do not to wake up at night to hear him talking smack to some fouled mouthed 12 year old that is destoying him at Halo on xbox live. Oh such peace and quiet I will enjoy. Does this mean that we will actually get to watch tv? What a novel idea!

On a side note if you don't own a garden tub or the likes, trying to take a bath with your significant other is not likely to turn out quite as romantic as you invisioned. So I'm thinking oh what a great idea, it'll be a nice change of pace from showers together where he likes to pee on my feet. Seriously how many times can a man pee on your feet and still think it's the most hilarious thing ever? Anyway I lit candles and filled the tub with bubbles but... with both me and my 6ft. tall 180 pound husband in the tub there was little room for water. We completely soaked the bathroom floor, it was almost impossible to wash my hair and the faucet kept poking me in the back... totally worth the experiece though. There's something to be said for flopping around all slippery and wet with your husband in very confined spaces! Not romantic but a hilariously good time. Hey he even shaved my legs for me and that's enough to make any bathing experience worthwhile!!!

Migraines

Migraines! Oh how I hate having migraines! Today was the first day I've had one in a long time so I guess I should be thankful for that... but it's hard to be thankful for anything when your head feels like it's splitting open. Called into work this morning, ending up having to take two of my migraine pills, and slept all day until Brian came home. Not a very productive day at all. Brian was really sweet though. When he got home he climbed into bed and snuggled with me. Even took a nap with me and he hates naps. Then he grilled out hamburgers for us to eat for supper because he knew I wouldn't feel like cooking. Now it's not hard to be thankful for that. I don't tell him enough how thankful I am. So if you're reading this baby- Thank you, you are a totally awesome husband and I couldn't have wished for more.

boring days

Gotta love long lazy Sundays. Brian and I stayed in bed half of the day... if only we could everyday. We joked around and talked. Goofed off and wrestled. Made out for about forty five minutes or so. Which of course eventually led into...well you know. Anyway. Eventually, after we got... um... unintangled we went picture frame shopping, then to Home Depot to look at storage options for the garage, and then we ate at Cracker Barrel. Overall a nice boring uneventful Sunday spent with my husband. Can't really ask for better than that.

Reluctant Sailor

Today was Brian's duty day. He hates duty days! Mainly because he hates wearing his uniform, or to be more specific he hates his dress blues and his dress whites. I don't know why... I think he looks cute in his uniform... but he thinks he looks geeky. So of course I had to harrass him for a picture!!! At first he demanded that I not take his picture. When that didn't work, he ran away. When even that didn't work he gave in and let me take one!!!!

Welcome to the World Faye Lynn!

Today I went with some friends from work to visit Nikki and her brand new baby girl- Faye Lynn. She was born yesterday, which just so happened to also be my daddy's birthday. Nikki was up and moving around... I was suprised. I mean she just gave birth last night, but she seemed to be doing and feeling remarkable well. Her new daughter was really cute, not all red and wrinkling like some newborns. It's an amazing thing to hold a baby that you know was inside of their mother's belly less than 24 hours ago. But that's the miracle of life. It felt good to be there, with Nikki and her new baby, and to feel genuinally happy for her. I look forward to when Brian and I start "trying" again and for all of the joy and excitment a new pregnancy and a new baby will bring. I feel hopeful for the future. Hopeful that this next time we will have a healthy baby. Part of me feels bad for wanting to move forward. Almost like if I heal and put the miscarriage behind me, I'll be putting the baby that we lost behind me. So I'm still trying to work all of that out in my head. To convince whatever part of me that is holding onto the sadness that moving on doesn't mean forgetting. I'll never forget. The baby that we lost will always be our first child in my eyes. Yet I know that I need to move on. Knowing and being able to, well now that's two different things. For now though I'm just going to find hope in the fact that today the sight of a mother and her child didn't feel be with sadness and bitterness. And hey, that's got to be a step in the right direction.

Missing our baby.

"Be not the slave of your own past. Plunge into the sublime seas, dive deep and swim far, so you shall come back with self respest, with new power, with an advanced experience that shall explain and overlook the old."

To our baby that never got to be...
I never thought to pray for you. Not for your safety or your well being. I just thought... guess I just thought that everything would be fine. Stupid me, huh? Everything wasn't fine. And that makes me mad. It makes me bitter. To know there are people out there who didn't want children, don't want them, yet still have them. I'm sure it's wrong to look at people and think that you deserve a baby more than them, but that is what I find myself doing. It makes me feel badly about myself to even think that and to judge others worth as parents that way, but if I'm being honest that is how I feel.. I think to myself... I'm twenty five. Brian and I have been married for over four years. We own a home. I don't drink or party. I've worked in childcare for over five years now. What gives? Why take you away, but give babies to others.. I wanted you. Planned for you. Your daddy wanted you. God knows your grandmother wanted you. Wanted but taken away. You were never here but you have things. A toy aquarium. Bibs. Books. Halloween and Christmas outfits you were supposed to wear. There all here. Packed away in a box. Placed in a closet. Your stuff is here. But you're not. You'll never get to use it. I save it. Save it for the baby we still hope to have. Yet that baby won't be you. Will I find it weird that they're using your things. I can't bring myself to get rid of it. And why keep it if I'm not going to use it. It's just that I wanted you to use it. That's my problem I still want for what can't be. Will I ever move out and away from the past. I want for you to be here... still inside of me... growing... waiting...and finally arriving. All of that just can't be. It just won't be.