It's a Major Award!

It may not be a super hip lamp in the shape of a lady's leg, but it is a major award! My amazing husband won a 2007 Ava Platinum Award for one of his video training dvds. It's this beautiful little lady standing on a "piano-finish" pedestal. The thing weighs a stinkin' ton! It's all shiny and beautiful. Apparently the trophies are made by the same guy that designed the golden globe awards. Pretty ritzy stuff (you can check out http://www.avaawards.com/statuette.php for more info on it). And it came in this incredibly fancy looking box with an emblem seal thingie and a latch on the side. I'm not sure, but I think my husband may be a celebrity. Which is really exciting for me. All of a sudden I can envision myself sitting in a cafe with my children and their English nanny, enjoying my imported hot chocolate and biscotti while discussing the finer points of motherhood with other celebrity mothers, like Gwen Stefani or that little Spears girl that is pregnant (which is totally unbelievable. She's what, like 13 years old?) Anyways, I digress...I really just came on to brag about my incredible husband. I'm so proud of him and his success. Way to go Chaddy!!!

Just Shy of a Decade

Holy smokes. Tomorrow is my eight year wedding anniversary. I'm sure to a lot of you that sounds like nothing, but to me it is a huge landmark. If my marriage were a child, it would be old enough to be baptized. Okay, that's kind of weird, but you know what I mean. What I'm trying to say is, I think I've been married long enough to officially be out of the "newly wed" stage. So, according to the experts, I should have officially emerged from the honeymoon phase by now. I guess I'm not doing things right, though, because I am still completely infatuated with my husband. I was the happiest person alive when I married him, and I am only happier now. It boggles my mind. How can things possibly continue to get better and better? Shouldn't it taper off at some point? Shouldn't I settle into a routine and get bored sooner or later?

I've come into contact with many people who describe marriage with words like "confining," "restricting," "stifling." They've told me that marriage requires you to give up your dreams and discard all the things that are fundamentally "you." They consider it a sacrifice, a deal that no one can win. I've tried to listen to their point of view and understand their pain in an attempt to better sympathize with their plight. Try as I might, I just can't understand. Marriage for me has been anything but confining. Perhaps it was a result of good dating, or maybe it was just blind luck, but I landed myself the perfect marriage. It turns out that the person I admired and coveted above all others also liked me. It's been so convenient. For whatever crazy reason, my husband thinks I'm flawless. It's a delusion. I know he's wrong. I'm a decent person, but I've got more than my fair share of faults. I talk too much. I have a really weird sense of fashion. I love the styles of the 40's and 50's and am constantly trying to incorporate them into my daily wardrobe. (Just between you and me, it doesn't work) I dye my hair too much. Sometimes instead of jet black, it comes out blue. Once it was orange instead of blonde. I wear way too much eye makeup and lipstick that is much too red. I get too excited about things and too attached to people. I cry really easily and over anything---happy or sad. I have eccentric tastes in music and tv and books and foods. Sometimes I'm too clingy. I'm a huge nerd. I love trivia about Seattle and constantly bombard him with the who's, what's and where's of Washington history. I'm a lousy housewife and an even worse cook. But for whatever crazy, sadistic reason, Chad loves me and will proudly claim me as his in any social situation. As a result, marriage has been an incredible time for growth for me. For the first time in my life, I've had the confidence and the guts to try new things and really pursue the things that interest me. There's absolutely no harm in trying now. Succeed or fail, I still get to come home to my favorite person in the world and hear him tell me that he's proud of me. Chad has supported me in all my pursuits, even when they've brought our family financial or emotional stress. When I decided that I wanted to quit my job and be a full time mommy (even though I was the sole bread winner at the time), he cheerfully picked up two (sometimes three) jobs to make up for it. When I decided that I wanted to homeschool our kids, he started doing extra chores around the house to give me more time for lesson plans and science experiments. I've found myself in marriage, not lost myself.

This is where the nay sayers would point out that just because I'm happy doesn't mean Chad is happy too. Ha! You must not know Chad! Everything Chad has done for me, I've reciprocated. I supported him when he decided that he wanted to drop out of school and be a graphic design guy. I celebrated with him when he decided to quit his job and go self employed. I've encouraged him to try new things, to stretch and to grow. I don't mean to toot my own horn, but I know he's better with me than without me. There's just no way around it. We are a case study in synergy. Separately we're okay, but together we're terrific. I love my husband insanely. Words cannot describe my feelings of admiration and gratitude for him. The past eight years have been unbelievable. There is no one I would rather spend my life with and grow old with. He is my favorite, my sweet Chaddy-Beara!

Wait! No one told me I was old!

Why am I the last to discover this? What happened? I am so used to being the newly wed, the young mother. When did I become quite so established? It's frightening. I realized not long ago that 2008 marks the 10 year anniversary of my high school graduation. As if that wasn't enough, today was my baby's first day as a Sunbeam (for those who are unfamiliar with the LDS Primary organization, Sunbeams are the youngest children in Sunday School, aka primary). Both my kids have their own classes to attend during church. Both my children are potty trained. Both my children are independent and outgoing. Where does that leave me?


Chad and I have been married for eight years (well, almost. It'll be eight years on the 15th of this month, but who's counting?). It feels as if we've had a baby in the house pretty consistently since we've been married. I guess, in reality, we haven't, but it all blurs together. I remember when Michael, our first, was born. I loved being a mother and I adored my beautiful son, but I was pretty sure I would never sleep again. I relinquished myself to a life of multiple night time feedings and rising for breakfast well before the sun dared to show itself. I spent my time at church equally divided between the mother's lounge and the foyer. I didn't have a purse, but a huge backpack filled with an arsenal of mothering weapons---cheerios, diapers, spare clothes, interesting toys, binkies, bibs, bandaids, baby tylenol, wipies, blankets and many other things that had the tag "just in case" linked to their name (i.e. a single serving of formula mix, even though my children were 100% nursed, "just in case"). My life revolved around meals and naps and play dates with other mothers of young children. I'd simultaneously commiserate with other mothers about how hard it was to find a minute to myself and celebrate the joys of small milestones like teeth and steps. Our kids were young, so we were young.

How did it change so fast? Today I realized that I don't have any babies anymore. I carry a cute, tiny purse with room for a wallet and some chapstick, nothing more. My kids dress themselves, brush their own teeth, clean their own rooms, cut their own food, take care of their own "business" as far as bathroom trips go. They enjoy being with me, but prefer the company of those their own age. They've defined their own personalities, sense of humors, likes and dislikes. They are adults trapped in little kid bodies. And I'm not sure how I feel about it. Don't get me wrong. Life is amazingly wonderful. I love having conversations with my kids, or being able to whisk them away on a spur of the moment trip with nothing more than a few jackets and water bottles. They are incredible little people and I love them more than words could ever express. But, still, there is definitely something to be said for the feel of a sleeping baby, curled up snugly against your chest. That, I think, is one of the most exquisite feelings imaginable. Their perfect little bodies inhaling and exhaling repetitively through their perfect little noses. They are miracles and being around them is a reminder that God exists.

And you know what the real kicker is? All that time I thought people were crazy for telling me to hold on to my babies because "they grow up quick." I thought they were insane. How could years of diapers and sleepless night "go quick?" But you know, they were right. It did go fast. And it was incredible while it lasted. I'm hoping that time will slow down a little bit so that I can enjoy this next phase of life a little longer than the last.

Why my husband is the cutest in the world

Okay, so if you know my husband at all, than you know that he is a connoisseur of rock and roll. He's played guitar since he was six years old and has been in one band or another since high school. He's played shows with all kinds of bands, some which have even claimed semi-famous members, and put out several cds. Sure, it's all been underground, no-label, punk rock dives sort of stuff, but he has managed to earn a degree of fame within that realm. His last band sold cds on a couple different continents even. With a background as such, it makes sense that he is somewhat of a critic when it comes to music. He's got stuff that he likes, and stuff that he just cannot stand. Fodder for the masses, in his opinion. Musical theater falls into the category of things he dislikes. And by dislikes, I mean hates. Merely suggesting that he may have at some point in his life sat through a musical and found any degree of enjoyment therein produces an amazing display of contempt and disgust. Seriously, mention a famous musical in front of him--one that most of society has agreed is atleast bearable--and he'll make a face like you've just waved a week old fish carcass rolled in foul sewage and left to ferment for a month under his noise. Pure and utter disgust.

Now on to the reason why my husband is the cutest in the world. Last weekend we took the kids to see "Suessical the Musical." Notice that "musical" is in the title. I have to admit, I was afraid. I didn't know what to expect. I was surprised when he saw the name of the play and didn't have any reaction. Positive or negative. As if I said we were going to see a reenactment of the five o'clock news. "Ehh. Okay. We should leave at 5:30 if it starts at six." Nothing more, nothing less. Odd, but okay. Then we got there. And instead of slouching in his seat and counting the slow, miserable seconds until it ended, he was happy. Pleasant even. As if he wanted to be there. He commented on how nice the set was, the actors were, and ---gasp---the music was. What on earth, you ask, could cause such a change? Aww. There, my friend, is the reason my husband is amazing. Our three year old girl caused the transformation. Natalie loved the play. She clapped, she sang along, she cheered on the hero, and she cried when it was over. And her enthusiasm was enough to change the heart of my true blue, rock 'n roll to the core husband. For her, Chad sat through the entire play, talked to the actors afterwards, bought the sound track and blasted it proudly through the car's stereo system on the way to the gym the next day, singing along as if he was destined for Broadway. He did it all because it made our daughter happy. A few years ago he played a show with a guy from Green Day. Last weekend he sang along with Horton the Elephant. And that is why I love him more than anyone else in the entire world--past, present or future.