tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53276078365799069762024-03-05T05:24:48.731-08:00Just to See You SmileTwo people fell in love and decided to get married. This is our story.SunshineMThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917954014981403740noreply@blogger.comBlogger33125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5327607836579906976.post-30369593872568733232016-07-26T07:42:00.000-07:002016-07-26T07:42:45.931-07:00The Foster Mother Bird AKA Andrea's Story<div class="MsoNormal">
The beautiful post below was written by Andrea, Easton's wonderful surrogate mom. Enjoy!</div>
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A couple weeks ago, I gave birth to a baby that isn’t mine.
Next to me was my husband-it wasn’t his baby either. On the other side of the
room, though, were our friends, waiting for their baby to enter the world.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Rewind to the past year and a half. A year and a half that
started with a measly conversation, including months of preparation, praying,
hormone-taking, and an emotional rollercoaster. It ended with a new life being
born.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It has taken me a couple of weeks to put into words what the
last year and a half has been like. First off, the decision to be a surrogate
may have started with an easy offering during that dinner conversation, but it
was a decision that Matt and I didn’t take lightly. We thought about it long
and hard and prayed about it, all while watching our own daughter grow up. I
remember the day that we knew it we <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">had</i>
to do this for Mandie and Patrick. It was that day that MG giggled
uncontrollably for the first time. Matt and I had heard a laugh here and there,
but nothing to this magnitude. I remember looking at him and seeing that, he
too, had tears streaming down his face. That’s when we knew. Mandie and Patrick
deserved this same kind of moment with their own child. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The process wasn’t easy. I was cleared by my doctors,
including my OB who initially thought I was nuts. You see, I didn’t exactly
enjoy being pregnant the first time around. I wasn’t one of those people that
were meant to be pregnant, and my OB knew that. But she was supportive and was
happy to be a part of this journey. As Mandie prepared for her egg retrieval, I
prepared my uterus. I took hormones, inserted pills into lady parts, and
injected myself with more hormones. IVF is no joke, and I feel for every woman
that goes through it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Fast forward 8 months to a few weeks ago. July 18<sup>th</sup>
was my end point, my light at the end of the tunnel. I was uncomfortable and
felt awful. I struggled through every day and crashed into my bed every single
night. My blood sugars were out of control despite my efforts (try being
pregnant and not being able to eat carbs!) and my blood pressure crept up. I
was admitted to the hospital for a week before the actual delivery date because
of this. My body was exhausted and was telling us it was done. And on July 9<sup>th</sup>,
after 7 hours of labor, the baby that was once so active inside me was out. My
job was done. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Let me explain something that you may not understand. I went
into this entire process with the mentality that this was not my child. She
never was. I always acknowledged her as ‘the kid’ and not one time mentioned
her by her name. I don’t want it to sound like I neglected her…in fact I did
the opposite. I nurtured her, prayed for her, spoke to her, and sang to her. I
cared for her like she was my own baby. But in the back of my mind, she wasn’t
mine. I wasn’t attached. Since ‘the kid’, now known as Easton Kate, was born, a
lot of people have asked how I’m doing emotionally. My answer is this:
emotionally, I am so incredibly happy for Mandie and Patrick. Because I was
never attached to Easton, I wasn’t sad to see her off to Tennessee where her
life was waiting for her. Physically, I am so glad to not be pregnant. I feel
amazing and can’t believe I gave birth a couple weeks ago. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I have received so much support through this journey from
family, friends, coworkers, and even complete strangers. I can’t thank everyone
enough for this. I have also received praise. While carrying Easton was no easy
feat, in no way was ‘praise’ the reason that I did it. I simply did this
because our friends deserve to have their own child. They deserve to have what
Matt and I have. I trust them to raise the child that I grew for them and I
continue to pray for the Beeler family. Above all, I pray that Easton is
healthy, happy, and knows God. These are the same hopes I have for my daughter,
Mila Gray. Easton and I will always have a special bond and I can’t wait to
watch her grow up. She is a beautiful human being, and I am the lucky one for
getting to know her like I have.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Love, Andrea</div>
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Andrea and Matt also made this video for Easton highlighting our journey. Watching it today, 17 days after Easton joined our family, is amazing. She has changed so much in these past few weeks! This little girl is so, so loved, and we can't imagine our lives without her.</div>
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SunshineMThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917954014981403740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5327607836579906976.post-26734586535652354872016-07-07T20:45:00.000-07:002016-07-07T20:45:00.317-07:00It Takes a VillageFrom the time P and I got married, we started saving for adoption.<br />
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You see, I cannot carry a child. Gynecologically, I have all the necessary working parts, and neither of us are infertile. But for medical reasons, my body is unable to safely carry a child. So, adoption.<br />
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Adoption is a very long, very tedious, expensive, exhausting process. Especially when you have to balance all the application components with deployments and school work and jobs and life. I understand that they don't want to let just anyone adopt, but man, it's a tough process. We found an agency we liked and a lawyer we trusted. We wrote autobiographies, had physicals done, organized all of our financial records, had background checks ran, and completed hours of reading and studying for the home study. In May 2015, right after Mother's Day, we met with our caseworker for the first part of our home study. We were nervous, excited, scared, and anxious. They told us it could be two weeks or two years, there is just really no way of knowing. We embraced our faith and knew it would work out exactly how it was supposed to work out.<br />
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Two days later, we went to dinner with Matt and Andrea. We've been close couple friends since they got engaged, which was right around the same time we did. They were in town visiting with Matt's family. We always spend as much time as possible with them with they come to visit, but this visit was different. We just didn't know it yet.<br />
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Over dinner, we were happily updating them on my recent prospectus defense and P's new job, and Matt and I talked about our doctoral programs while P and Andrea talked about anything else. They told us what it was like to have a 6 month old who was growing up way too quickly. We also updated them about the adoption process since we had just met with our caseworker and finally had news to share that wasn't paperwork updates.<br />
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Then something very unexpected happened. Andrea said, "Before you go any further in the adoption process, we want to talk to you about me being your gestational surrogate." We stared in shock, looking back and forth between her, Matt, and each other. We honestly couldn't believe the words they were saying. We probably asked them "are you absolutely sure?" about a million times. They said they knew they wanted to do this when they first heard their daughter laugh. They wanted this for us, too.<br />
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Honestly, it wasn't any easy decision to make. We'd worked so hard and spent so much time in the adoption process. Did we want to hit pause to see if this would work? At the end of the adoption process, eventually, we would have a baby. But, there was always a chance surrogacy wouldn't work and our embryos wouldn't take. We couldn't afford to do both, so we had to choose. So, we prayed.<br />
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I distinctly remember the moment that I asked God to guide me and calm my heart if this was the path He wanted us to take. Instantly, and I mean INSTANTLY, I had this overwhelming sense of calm wash over me, and I knew what we needed to do.<br />
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Andrea had to be cleared by her doctors, and we had to find an IVF clinic in Tennessee that would do gestational surrogacy. Turns out, there are only about 6 in the state of Tennessee what will, and my insurance does not cover IVF at all. Tennessee Reproductive Medicine was recommended to me, and we set an appointment. This was a perfect choice for us. The doctors are wonderful, and they offered a 25% military discount, which helped with the sticker shock.<br />
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We first met with TRM in June 2015, and I had to go off birth control for several months before they could even really determine the viability of my eggs. We also had a lot of tests done, and there was almost as much paperwork as the adoption process. Finally, in mid-October, it was time to start the process. This is a very intense process. Estrogen pills, multiple shots, every-other-day trips to the doctor to do ultrasounds and check egg growth, and finally, the HCG trigger shot. This last shot is very interesting. The morning after, you get up and immediately take a pregnancy test. It reads positive, even though you aren't actually pregnant. It's the craziest thing. I'll detail the process later for those who want to know. Let's just say P had the easiest part of this whole ordeal.<br />
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On November 7, my eggs were extracted. 17 were taken out. 5 were immature and 1 was an empty shell. 8 of the remaining 11 fertilized. We flew Andrea in, who had been going through a whole process of her own, and on November 12, we had 6 blastocysts (embryos) remaining. They are all graded to determine their viability and strength. Ultimately, we decided to implant 1 that was highly graded - an ABB. (P jokes that this one was definitely my kid since the grade was so high. Ha!)<br />
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Let me tell you, implanting 1 was scary. Literally, all of our faith in 1 egg. 1 egg in the basket. We froze the remaining 5.<br />
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Well, this 1 was meant to be. It took, and 8 days later, a blood test indicated that Andrea had an HCG level of 91. For reference, they tell you they are hoping for a 50 or higher. So yeah, we were THRILLED because she was definitely pregnant. Still, we didn't say much to anyone because IVF is high-risk, and anything can happen in those first few weeks. It was so tough. We wanted so badly to share with the world.<br />
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We were finally able to share our news in February, and the support has been overwhelming in the best way possible. We've learned a lot and been able to teach people about gestational surrogacy. We are so happy to share our story, especially because we know this was definitely God's plan for our family.<br />
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Now, about 7 months later, we are almost ready to welcome our little girl to the world. There is so much more to our story, and I promise that one day soon we will share. But for now, we have to get ready to fly to Texas because our little girl is coming this weekend!<br />
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<br />SunshineMThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917954014981403740noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5327607836579906976.post-91693151642288407482012-05-31T12:26:00.001-07:002012-05-31T12:26:07.041-07:00Why be a Mean Girl?<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I've never really understood girl on girl hate. I think it starts when we're really young, and you're mad because one of your 9 second grade boyfriends is also boyfriends with some other girl in your class. Or there is the little girl in your class that dresses funny and has wild hair that is rarely clean, and since you don't understand empathy, it seems easier to make fun of her than to befriend her. Kids can be painfully honest, and sometimes it goes uncorrected and so we never realize what we're saying is rude and hurtful. And sometimes, we don't even care. We may know exactly what we're saying and know how mean it is, but we are so afraid of becoming the target of the hostility that we keep lashing it out onto others.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">We've all known (or been) a girl who blames the "other woman" when their boyfriend cheats instead of remembering that we're in the relationship with him, not her. We've also all known (or been) the girl who was that other girl who may or may not have known he was in a relationship. We've also all known (or been) the girl who stays with the cheater/starts dating the cheater while still being angry and bitter toward the other girl. The reality is - neither girl is on the "right" side of this. Plain and simple - don't place blame and anger where it doesn't belong and don't do something you know is going to hurt someone else. And when it's all said and done, love yourself a little bit more so it doesn't happen to you again no matter which side you're on.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">We've all known (or been) the girl who watches the Victoria Secret fashion show screaming "Real women don't look like that!" And, we've all known (or been) the girl who has been called "fat" her whole life and hates herself because she's not that super model. Why can't we all just love each other for whatever shape we're in!? Yes, it's ideal to be healthy, but not because of how you look but instead so we can live our lives doing the things we love to do without fear. Who says we have the right to tell anyone else what they can or cannot eat or what size they should fit into?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">We've all known (or been) that girl who is friends with guys, and nothing more, but people call her a "slut" because they don't think girls and guys can just be friends. Who are we to determine what makes someone a "slut" and even if they are by their own decree, why does it matter to us? I was once told by a dance coach (who went on to be arrested for statutory rape, but that's not the point here) that I was "promiscuous with my feelings." Huh? Because I care about people? I care about too many people? Is that actually something that can be measured?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">We've all known (or been) the girlfriend (or wife) doesn't believe that girls and guys can just be friends, so you're "not allowed" to maintain a friendship with their now boyfriend or husband. I really don't understand this one. Is it misplaced jealousy? Why can't two people of the opposite sex be friends and nothing more? Where is the trust in your relationship? I've been told "I trust him, but I don't trust her." Well, why? "Just because" is not a good answer. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">We've all known (or been) the woman who bitterly says the SAHM doesn't "work." Or, we've all known (or been) that SAHM that just doesn't understand how a woman could work outside the home when she has children to raise. Truly, what difference does it make if some of us stay home and some work and some do both? Why should we be angry or bitter? Are we jealously believing that the grass is greener on the other side? Can't we all just feel grateful that we live a time where we have the choice to stay home or work or whatever?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">These are just a few examples of girl on girl hate that all comes from some place that makes no sense to me. I say girl on girl hate because, most of the time, it seems like the anger or blame or whatever is placed on one girl by another girl for no rational or real reason. Is it that we are jealous of the other? Or scared of what is happening in our own lives? Or we feel defensive for some reason?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">There are movies and songs about mean girls. You'd think these things would help us realize that the cycle has to end, but it seems that too often, it makes it even more acceptable. There are plenty of news stories out there of teenage girls and their parents defending online or in school bullying with the give-up, "Oh, you know how girls are at this age. They'll grow out of it. It's innocent." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Is it really innocent? Do we ever really grow out of it? Or do we keep finding new ways to be mean girls because it keep us at the top of some imaginary mountain?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">I know mean girls who've been mean girls their entire lives and will always be. I know once nice girls who have chosen to become mean girls in their adult lives because they encountered mean girls in their youth and think it's their turn. And I know plenty of mean girls who've realized the error of their ways and have made active efforts to right their wrongs.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">See, I used to be a mean girl. I tried for a long time to pretend I wasn't, but now I can look back with time and hindsight on my side and clearly see times that I was downright terrible to people for absolutely no reason. Or sometimes there was a reason, but I refused to work it out in a way that would actually build bridges instead of burn them down. And there were times I was a mean girl because I was afraid that if I stood up to the others, I'd become the next target. Sometimes, that did happen, which made it more and more difficult to do the right thing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">But, I don't want to be a mean girl anymore, ever. I want to be a girl who brings others up. I want to be the girl that inspires others to love instead of hate. I want to remind others that, "While it's nice to be important, it's more important to be nice." I am by no means perfect, and I catch myself too often sliding back in the strange comfort of being mean.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Recently in a post on the <a href="http://www.curvygirlguide.com/lifestyle/30-things-every-woman-should-have-and-should-know-by-the-time-shes-30-rtp/#comment-31200">Curvy Girl Guide</a>, the author wrote "It's not a competition. There's room for more than one woman to succeed." I've thought this so many times, and it's comforting to read it in a blog that is all about us loving ourselves and embracing other women in this sisterhood of life. We can all succeed and celebrate each other's successes and be the soft place to land when we're not so successful.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">In Sugarland's Mean Girls, Jennifer Nettles sings<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> "</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">They'll hate you if you're pretty; They'll hate you if you're not. They'll hate you for what you lack, baby. Then they'll hate you for what you've got." For me, this pretty much sums up the "Mean Girls" phenomenon. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Why do we hate people for lacking something and we also hate them for succeeding? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">We make fun of people who are overweight and make angry smirks at supermodels saying they aren't "real women"?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">If we've ever been picked on, why do we feel that we are justified to bully someone else?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Why do we live in a world where we support the constant need to one-up the next person? Why do we allow that to happen and join in?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">One of my favorite quotes is, "There isn't anyone you couldn't love once you've heard their story." But even still, why do I need to hear their story to love them? Why don't I just love them because it's the right thing to do? And if they want to share their story, then we can love each other that much more.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">When I really stop to think about why I don't like someone, I can rarely point to any reason. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">We don't all have to be best friends. We don't have to hang out and have pajama parties. But, we can all be kind to each other. We can all be the positive influence to that kid we don't even know is watching us, looking to us for how they should act.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">If I was ever a mean girl to you, I am really very sorry. I hope you'll forgive me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">If you were ever a mean girl to me, I forgive you.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Let's all go forth in love and kindness and stop being mean girls. Let's stop encouraging girl on girl hate. Let's not become mean women. Let's be the role models we should be. There is room for everyone when your heart is full of love.</span><br />
<br />SunshineMThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917954014981403740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5327607836579906976.post-57785157363221343412012-04-17T12:50:00.000-07:002012-04-17T12:50:45.070-07:00One of the "Lucky" Military Wives<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I'm a military wife. My husband works full time for the TN Air National Guard. And right now, he's deployed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Luckily, he is in a "safe" place and does a job that is especially "safe." He often jokes that if he ever has to use a weapon as a means of defense, we are in far bigger trouble than we know.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I'm one of the "lucky" ones of all the folks who proudly wear the title of military spouse. We have no human children for him to be away from, and his deployments aren't usually exceptionally long. I'm lucky because I have a career that doesn't have suffer because we aren't required to move every few years. I'm lucky because we are near our families and hometown friends. I fully acknowledge this luck, and I am extremely grateful.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">But it seems sometimes that because of this "luck" or other factors people seem to feel that it's perfectly OK to say some pretty careless things to me. I use the word careless because I don't believe that the intention is to be hurtful. Many times people say things because they believe the words to be supportive or encouraging. But, the reality is that they sting, even when sugar coated with the best intentions. It's the same annoyance I feel when I hear someone start a sentence with "No offense, but...."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">And sometimes when I hear these things, I want to punch the speaker in the face. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">I've felt called to share my thoughts on these phrases people say to me. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Please, though, keep in mind that I only represent my own thoughts and feelings and certainly do not feel in any capacity that I represent any other military spouse. Every situation is a little different and all should be respected. This is a generalization that is (thankfully) not directed to any one person or group in particular. Just some thoughts I wanted to share. <em>This is my experience.</em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">With that in mind...<strong>Please don't tell me my husband isn't a "real soldier" because he's in the Guard.</strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">A few months ago, a newlywed military spouse wrote a blog post about how those serving in the National Guard <em>were not soldiers</em> and their spouses <em>were not military wives</em>. She ended up getting so much negative response that she blocked all comments. She also got eaten alive in other blogs. Generally, she holds the widely-held belief that to be in the Guard only means one weekend a month and two weekends a year. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">That may have at one point been true, but I can assure you that it is no longer. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">My husband has served in the guard for 9 years and is on his 7th deployment. Every single deployment lasted longer than 2 weeks. He's been to Turkey, Iraq, Ecuador, Guam, and other places. Not all dangerous places, but all places that required him to be away from his family for an extended period of time while serving our country. He is a soldier. A proud one.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"><strong>Please don't tell me that 70 days (or any other amount of time he is away) "isn't that long."</strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">This is the comment I hear most often, and I truly do believe people mean it as a way to encourage me. However, deep down, it hurts. A lot. In the grand scheme of life, 70ish days isn't that long. But <em>one single day away from my husband hurts me.</em> I hope that all married people feel that way. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">And, 70 days is a long time. Consider a baby born 10 weeks early. It would weigh less than 3 pounds and the brain is still in a crucial development stage. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">I would feel sorry for your if your spouse went on a 70 day business trip. It's tough to be away from your best friend and the person you love most in the world.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Similarly...<strong>Please don't tell me that you know how it feels because your spouse travels all the time.</strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Again, I know people say this to me to be encouraging and to show sympathy. I have friends whose husbands travel for weeks and months at a time and only get to spend a few days home here and there. <u>I have no idea how they do it</u>. I would be a big ball of sad all the time if that was our situation.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">The biggest difference I see is that <em>I cannot pick up the phone and call my husband unless it's a true emergency</em>. And even that would still take numerous phone calls and several hours. While sometimes he is somewhere he can call every day, the current base he is on only allows three 15 minute "comfort calls" home a month. Luckily this one has wi-fi in some public places so we can FaceTime about once a week, if the signal is strong enough and if we somehow get our schedules to match. Then the conversations last 10 minutes. But, that doesn't always happen.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">The bottom line, it's just not the same. Can't we all just agree that it's tough to have a spouse away?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"><strong>Please don't say "at least he's somewhere safe" because <em>nowhere</em> will ever be as safe as home with me.</strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Of course there are levels of "safe" with deployments. Sometimes they go to Hawaii. Sometimes they go to Afghanistan. Usually they go somewhere in between. And while a lot of bases are "safe," the reality that we have to have troops there at all is cause for a little bit of concern. Being a military wife has taught me one lesson very well - there is always something going on somewhere that we have absolutely no idea about. The government doesn't send troops overseas to play Draw Something or Apples to Apples all day, so there is obviously a mission that someone thinks is important enough to take my husband away. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"><strong>Please don't tell me I knew what I was getting into when I married someone in the military.</strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">A fellow military wife sent me piece from <a href="http://baseguide.com/blogs/post.aspx?blog=MagazineArticles&slug=How-to-Talk-to-Civilians-Without-Going-Crazy">this article</a> with the perfect response to this statement we get all the time. It's the perfect response, so I'll just let her words speak.</span><br />
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<div style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><em><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">“Why do military spouses complain ALL the time? They knew what they were getting into when they got married!” A civilian asked me that question recently. And for the first time in my entire life, I came up with the perfect response.</span></span></em></div><br />
<div style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><em><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">“Women complain about childbirth all the time, too. They get pregnant and they know it’s going to be tough. But a woman doesn’t comprehend the pain until she goes through it. So she screams and moans and recaps that moment years later. But would she rather be childless? No. And that’s just the beginning of the challenges of parenthood. No one tells a mother, ‘You knew motherhood was going to be tough. So shut up about it already.’ But they do that to military spouses all the time.”</span></span></em><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span style="font-family: Arial; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Finally - </span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong>Please don't tell me you're sorry.</strong></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">I married my best friend. He is my perfect match in every way. I am proud of him, not sorry about our situation in this moment. Even when I'm sad, I'm not sorry. Tell me you're proud of him. Say you appreciate his service. </span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Then take me out for a glass of wine.</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span>SunshineMThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917954014981403740noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5327607836579906976.post-43608203284310760582012-02-06T13:35:00.000-08:002012-02-06T13:35:38.720-08:00An Unforgettable Voice<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">When P and I started dating in August of 2008, we took things slow. We didn't meet each other's families at first and instead took the time to really get to know each other outside of the college setting in which we first met. If you <a href="http://sunshinemt.blogspot.com/2011/01/yellow-couches-road-trips-and-i-love.html">remember</a>, P never took girlfriends home to meet his parents before me. Ever. And, I'd only introduced a select few boyfriends to mine. It never crossed my mind that my Granny wouldn't meet my future husband.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">At the end of October, my mom called me and told me I needed to come home to say goodbye to my Granny. She'd been ill for years but always fought back. Fought back through breast cancer, diabetes, congestive heart failure, a triple bypass, regular dialysis treatments, and even moments of dementia. She was a strong lady. So, it just never really occurred to me that she might not be around to meet my husband and dance at my wedding. So when my mom called, I came straight </span><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">back to Tennessee and to my Granny. As she laid in a bed at the hospice care center, I knew I needed to tell her that I'd be ok. Every time she'd been sick before, she told me she was staying alive to watch her granddaughters get married. She wanted to know that each of us was taken care of the way Grampa had taken care of her. <span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">They were married for 55 years when she passed away. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">So, I sat there with her and told her about P. I told her that he was a kind, warm, thoughtful man who really loved me. I promised her that he would take care of me and always watch over me, so she didn't need to worry about me. I also told her not to worry about the rest of the grand kids because I knew we'd all find love and that she could always watch our weddings from the best seats Heaven has to offer.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">I also told my Granny that I loved P. At this point, I hadn't actually told him yet. And, even though I had no idea where our future was leading, I knew in that moment that I was not telling even the smallest of white lies to my Granny. P would take care of me, and I'd take care of him.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">During the next few days, I spent all my time with family. P asked if I wanted him to come, and even though I wanted him by my side, I didn't him to meet my family in those circumstances. He fully respected that and always offered a soft place to land when I came home exhausted from the day. That week, I told P that I loved him - 5 days after I'd told my Granny.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Fast forward 3 years, and the world looks really different. P and I are married, my cousin Hannah is married, and another cousin, Ashley, is tying the knot on our 1 year anniversary. The other 2 girls are in long-term relationships, and the boys, well, they're not quiet ready. We've found people to watch over us and love us. And, I know Granny has been watching our lives unfold from her vantage point in the clouds.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">This past week, our family made the tough decision to move my Grampa into an assisted living home. It's really the best option for him so he can socialize, get help quickly when he needs it, and be taken care of in a way that family just can't. They cook him meals, have happy hour, and even allowed his dog to move in with him. So now the family is trying to go through his condo so we can take him all the things he needs from home. We're also sorting through the 80 years of life he's led, which is quite a daunting task! Let's just say that he and Granny saved everything.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">While cleaning off the end table by his recliner, we found a little voice recorder you can use to remind yourself of an errand or a grocery list. We hit play and my Granny's voice filled the room. It was a message to herself to ask her doctor something during the next dialysis appointment. He'd kept it for all this time, we assume just to hear her voice. Her voice is also still on the answering machine greeting. Just little reminders of the woman he's loved his whole life. The woman he snuck off to Georgia to marry. The woman who he would be celebrating 58 years of marriage with today. Such amazing, powerful love.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">It's amazing to think about such love in our time. In a time when so many marriages don't make it. In a time where we have become so selfish that the thought of considering another person equal to or more important than ourselves is unthinkable. Yet, there it is. Right in front of us.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">So, P never got to meet my Granny. But this weekend, he got to hear her voice. He gets to visit with my Grampa, and he gets to know through Grampa's stories about how they played a huge part in raising me. Sharing this time I have left with my Grampa with P lets him see a side of me he's never seen before. A vulnerable little girl who just wants to land in the arms of someone who loves her.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Here's hoping and wishing and praying for 55+ years with P. Here's hoping we never forget the power of each other's voices, even when separated by death.</span>SunshineMThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917954014981403740noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5327607836579906976.post-33623115961001240022012-01-20T10:28:00.000-08:002012-01-20T11:09:51.169-08:00On Being Friends with Ex's<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I have always been the girl who has a lot of guy friends. I'm also the girl who has stayed friends with ex-boyfriends after a break up. Just a couple of Sundays ago I posted something on Facebook about my church being pretty full of New Year's resolutioners, and two of the three serious boyfriends I had before P came into my life commented on it. Last October, I had a conference in St. Louis, which is also home to my "first love", and I made it a point to visit him and his family while I was in town. I don't see anything wrong or inappropriate with any of this. Neither does P.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">So many people find this strange. I have plenty of friends and have read plenty of articles that say "Staying friends with your ex is dangerous!" or "I would never stay friends with anyone who's seen me the slightest bit naked before!" Well, unless your ex is <em>actually</em> a dangerous person, you should be safe. And, if I wasn't friends with anyone who has seen me at least partially naked then my parents wouldn't speak to me, half my girlfriends would've disowned me, and I'd have to find a new massage therapist every month. Way too exhausting.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">This is the truth: I've dated some pretty decent guys. I've been serious about 4. They are <u>all</u> kind, educated, and thoughtful gentleman. Just because it didn't work out between us doesn't make them (or me) a bad person. And even though the romance ended, they are still the wonderful guys I'd become friends with when I first met them. I call them every year on their birthdays. I will probably continue to do this for a long time. Maybe (hopefully) forever.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">P also happens to be friends with girls he used to date. Heck, I'm friends with girls P has dated in the past.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">I'm writing this because I've noticed that this is a huge issue with several of my friends in their relationships, and I've always found it interesting how people can have such drastically different experiences. I know people who've been seriously hurt and found a way to forgive. I also know people who don't remain friends with an ex on the principal of the matter. Whatever works for you - I support you completely! This works for me.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">I also get told how "weird" I am because I'm friends with exes. Maybe I am, but I'm probably a bit weird for many, many different reasons.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">I've also been the girl-friend (not even an ex-girlfriend, just a friend who happens to be a girl) of a guy whose wife forbids him to talk to me or any other girl beyond her friends and his guy friend's wives. I do not understand the hatred or annoyance. But, that's a whole different blog post.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"><br />
<br />
Of course there are reasons for folks not to remain friends with an ex:<br />
1 - Mental or physical abuse.<br />
2 - Drug or extreme alcohol problems. <br />
3 - They are a source of drama in your life.<br />
4 - You can't get over them emotionally. Or vice versa.<br />
5 - They kicked your dog.<br />
6 - More that I can't name because it has just never happened to me.<br />
<br />
Maybe I'm lucky. The only hurt I've been is the normal break-up pain. I realize that this probably doesn't happen for everyone, but I consider myself lucky to have known good guys and still know them in our post-relationship life. One of them is married with two beautiful children. My heart could not be happier for him. Another has found the girl he will likely marry someday. I get so excited when I hear about their happiness. Just like when I hear about pretty much everyone's happiness.<br />
<br />
The reality is that P and I chose each other. We had other opportunities and potential life partners and knew each other through many, many relationships. But, we chose each other. We wouldn't have chosen each other if either were insanely jealous or harbored crazy amounts of resentment. It's just the way we fit. <br />
<br />
I hope that when we have children and they date people, they have the opportunity to meet nice men and women. I hope that if it doesn't work out with those men and women, they don't place more blame or anger on the ex or themselves that is truly unwarranted. I hope that they can remain friends - if they want to. There is no one-size fits all experience. <br />
<br />
Maybe it's just because I like being friends with pretty much everyone, and that includes people who've hurt me and people I've hurt. We're human. We make mistakes in friendships and romantic relationships. I hope we just don't let it scar us too much.</span>SunshineMThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917954014981403740noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5327607836579906976.post-1624229287443808542012-01-10T13:03:00.000-08:002012-01-10T13:39:36.473-08:00New Year, More Blog Commitment<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">We just celebrated our first holiday season as a married couple. It was wonderful to start new traditions and find a balance that worked for our newly formed family!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"><br />
Speaking of balance - I'm trying to find a better balance. Part of this balance will be a renewed commitment to blogging. I'll still be talking about the happenings of me and P, but I'll also be rambling about random issues that are important to me.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Topics may:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- Why everyone should do service</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- How teaching makes me a better student</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- What it's like to be a military wife</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- P's deployment to Qatar this year</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- Girl on girl hate and why it needs to chill already</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- On being friends with ex's</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- Being comfortable in your own skin</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- Other blogs I love</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- Weddings and babies of dear friends</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- My office's health challenge</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- My 10 year high school reunion</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- Whatever pops into my random brain</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Got anything you want to see me ramble about?</span>SunshineMThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917954014981403740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5327607836579906976.post-72755284016244941432011-10-10T12:24:00.000-07:002011-10-11T06:36:55.553-07:00My husband has a mistress.<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">And I cannot compete with her. He has his hands all over her all the time. She's slim, sleek, and fashionable. Seriously, everything looks good on her. She never talks back or nags at him to help out around the house. She always goes where he wants, says what he wants to hear, and pretty much follows his every command. He absolutely controls her every move. She's also into playing different characters, so she keeps him interested. She virtually never says no. She's available to him whenever he has time, and she waits patiently if he is busy for a bit before he can come back to her. And he does go back to her, time after time. He reaches out to her first thing in the morning, first thing when he gets home from work, and he stays up with her all hours of the night. She will even hook up with him and a friend without even blushing to play her "games." I cannot compete.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">And neither can most women. The television is taking over my marriage. And with football season in full swing, my attempts at keeping that b*tch outta my life are fruitless. The tv in our living room didn't leave ESPN for at least 48 hours this past weekend.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">It's not even just tvs. It's all sources of electronic stimulation. I remember when I was a teenager and so many of my guy friends were obsessed with their video games. One of my friend's moms said, "I wonder what will happen when they grow up and get married?" Well, I have the answer right in front of me. Late twenties/early thirties men who are attached to their television sets with gaming systems all wired up or on their computers incessantly playing World of Warcraft or something else stupid.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Seriously - what is with this virtual reality lifestyle we've got going on? Is <em>actual</em> reality not good enough?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I read in Parade this Sunday about how being constantly connected to our tvs/video games/iPads/laptops/smart phones/etc. is actually rewiring our brains. I, too, am guilty of keeping my smart phone on me at all times. I get my work email and my personal email to my phone. I play Words With Friends all day every day. I have the Twitter app, the Facebook app, and the GChat app. I am always plugged in. Seriously, I annoy myself.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Just yesterday, P and I went out to eat after church. When our appetizer came out the server actually said, "You know you're sitting right across from each other, you can talk, you don't have to text." Part of me wanted to tell him to mind his own business, but 90% of me was embarrassed. We weren't texting, but we weren't talking. I responded to the WWF moves that were made while we were in church, and P checked his fantasy football standings and watched the tv above my head that was on - SHOCKING NEWS HERE - football on ESPN. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">When we bought our house, we agreed (OK, he was volun-told) that we wouldn't have a tv in our master bedroom. I'd been told by several friends and read in numerous wedding planning mags that having a tv in the bedroom seriously diminished the lovin' feeling.* I'm pretty certain that a tv anywhere within a mile diminishes that lovin' feeling.** This is either because A) the husband is attached to his electronic mistress and doesn't notice their wife in smokin' hot lingerie or B) the wife is so pissed off that she just did three loads of laundry, unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher, cleaned the bathroom, and cooked dinner all while husband was fooling around with the previously aforementioned mistress. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Anyway, back to that b*tch of a black box - if I could live without reruns of The Secret Life of the American Teenager, I'd seriously consider cancelling our cable service and hiding the Wii remotes.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">*Maybe this is why our grandparent's generation had so many babies. They usually only had one tv in the house and none of this other electronic junk we can't live without today.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">**Ok - not in <em>all</em> cases because several of my friends are procreating, so obviously some of that lovin' feelin' is happening somewhere. I'm sure it's someplace far away from electronic media.</span>SunshineMThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917954014981403740noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5327607836579906976.post-4587239870370069292011-07-11T12:04:00.000-07:002011-07-11T12:04:40.066-07:00What's in a Name?<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">It's been a month since we said "I do" and partied all night long with 150+ of our closest, most amazing friends and families. A month of wedded bliss. I can't believe how quickly it's gone by since the month leading up to the wedding seemed to crawl.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">We had a day between the wedding and departing on our honeymoon to sleep and finish packing. When we went home from the hotel on Saturday, it just seemed that we were pretending. Like we were just coming home from a party where we got all dressed up and danced all night long. Maybe like prom, except we're old enough to drink and there was a carousel. It didn't feel like anything had really changed. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Our dogs were already gone to his parents, and we were really too tired to even talk to each other. My mom came by to drop off my dress, the presents, and some other left over things from the Zoo. We ate lunch with her in pretty much silence. All I wanted to do was go crawl in bed and sleep, but I knew had to finish packing and not sleep through our 3 AM alarm clock for the airport. Seriously, the day between was so smart. We didn't waste any of our honeymoon resting up from the wedding! But, man, that day was rough.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">But still, even our honeymoon felt mostly like we were just taking vacation. We've never been on vacation together, but it didn't really feel like anything had changed. Maybe it's because we lived together for a year before we got married. Please try to contain your shock that we lived in sin for a whole year. It made financial sense, and we were already engaged, so it was totally OK with our church. At least, I think I was, I never asked, and now I think it'd just be silly to open that door up.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">So in the year of our engagement I started a new job, we bought a new house, we adopted a new puppy, we fought for about three months straight, we had major family drama happen, we combined our bank accounts, and our lives pretty much stayed in a perpetual state of change. So maybe that's why the day after the wedding seemed pretty normal but not "real." </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">I'm still waiting for the "difference" to set in, but for now, the only change that is really awkward for me is the name change.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Most of you know my real name is Amanda, not Mandie. I don't really answer to Amanda unless it comes from a familiar voice, like my mom, dad, or immediate family. I answer to Mandie, MT, Thacker, Mands, and Diamond (to Lea, anyway). So since I can't even seem to answer to my real first name, it should come as no surprise that I cannot for the life of me remember to answer to Mrs. Beeler. Or introduce myself as Mandie Beeler. Seriously, it's a super awkward situation every time where I said, "Hi, I'm Mandie Thacker...(long pause, awkward side glances)....Beeler." It doesn't help that schools apparently stopped teaching kids the difference in Miss, Mrs., and Ms. so my former TWC 101/102 students think I'm now Mrs. Thacker. Really? I'm pretty sure people rarely marry someone with the same last name, and when they do it, it's a super common last name like Smith, Moore, Davis, Clark, or Williams.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Anyway, my new license, social security card, staff ID, insurance cards, etc. all now say Amanda T Beeler, and I feel like I'm stuck in this weird place of lost identity. It's not that I don't love my new last name. Hearing P's fraternity brothers yell, "Mrs. Beeeeelerrrr" is definitely a highlight of my life. It's just that I've been Thacker for 27 years. I'll be 54 by the time I've been a Beeler as long as a Thacker. That is a long freakin' time people. Everyone seems to think the strangeness will pass and I will start to identify with my new name, so hopefully that will come soon so my poor husband doesn't give up on me.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">This is exactly why I tried to get him to let me hyphenate or to combine our names and make a new one. Theeler or Backer would've TOTALLY worked, and we'd get to be confused together.</span>SunshineMThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917954014981403740noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5327607836579906976.post-38312262862139427182011-07-07T08:40:00.000-07:002011-07-07T08:40:25.663-07:00So it's Been a While!<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Wow, I realize it's been almost a month since I blogged. I've thought about blogging but actually getting words onto virtual paper has been difficult. Sorry about the long delay folks! I've been a little busy soaking up the awesomeness that is newlywed bliss!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I promise to analyze and go over every amazing detail of our (almost) perfect day and share my ramblings with you. I have to say immediately that hands down we had the most amazing bridal party ever assembled. The men and women who stood with us and all the folks in the background who ran the show were absolutely amazing. Surrounding myself with positive people who love me no matter what and don't hate me instantly when I have a bitchy moment is pretty much the most amazing gift I could've asked for on my wedding day. Suffice it to say, I did have a few Bridezilla moments over wedding week. Thank goodness my friends are forgiving. :)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Everything didn't go exactly as planned, but some of the bloopers were the moments we'll remember and laugh about forever. The heat wave was insane and completely uncharacteristic of Tennessee in June. We ran out of beer, lemonade, and water. The ice cream was a hit! The carousel was jamming all night! Oh, and my FIL dropped his pants leaving the ceremony. From what I've been told, the reception was a blast. Unfortunately, I have very little recollection of most of it. Former brides were not kidding when they said don't even both trying to remember because you won't!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">For now, if you'd like some sneak peek photos, visit Christy Foreman Photography's <a href="http://www.christyforemanblog.com/?p=606">blog</a>. You can also see our photobooth pictures <a href="http://www.opalescentphotocart.com/">here</a> then click on Patrick and Mandie's wedding.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Also, I'll soon be blogging about married life and our new adventures. I'm sure it will be entertaining, as our life almost never sees a dull moment. Talk soon!</span>SunshineMThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917954014981403740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5327607836579906976.post-31120775012682459062011-05-27T08:57:00.000-07:002011-05-27T08:57:26.144-07:00Bachelorette Shindig<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Last weekend was my "Last Fling Before the Ring Bachelorette Mountain Weekend" hosted by the amazing RevDocJLa and MaidOH. For the male readers out there, we all hung out in lingerie all weekend drinking lots of wine and having pillow fights. For the ladies, read on.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">From the very beginning I told MaidOH that I wanted something very low-key where we could sleep, lay around, drink some fun drinks, and not do much. I'm not really into the whole "getting trashed in a bar then having a male stripper" thing. I don't like taking shots, and I get embarrassed very easily, so I don't like all the attention. I haven't actually been to very many Bachelorette parties because of work or grad school or other conflicting events, so I really didn't even know what to do.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">MaidOH and RevDocJLa booked a cute little cabin called "A Precious Place" and brought up a TON of wine, beer, and snacks. Let me tell you, this place sure was precious. It's like everything in your grandparents house that you felt guilty about throwing it away - may I suggest putting it in a cabin and calling it cute? DeHart and I had a "Gone with the Wind" themed bed room, Pearls and Meg has a million mirrors, RevDocJLa and MaidOH had lots of lace things, and all the bathrooms had French hotel signs from Hobby Lobby. It was strange, but precious! The porch downstairs was the perfect spot for us to relax, chat, laugh a lot, and tell stories.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Four of us arrived early on Friday and went to dinner at Hard Rock. I haven't eaten there in a long time, and my new found meat eating ways led me to the most magical turkey burger of my life. I wore the Bachelorette sash, and we drank out of inappropriately designed straws. We got back and hung out in the hot tub for a while. Pearls and Meg arrived later, and we all went to bed at a decent hour. It was great! </span><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Saturday morning we went outlet mall shopping. Sevierville has the best outlet malls, and we found some awesome deals! I stocked up on honeymoon and general summer stuff. Other sweet girls came up to join us, including my sweet K, and shop with us before we headed back to cabin. The lingerie shower was definitely fun, and luckily I wasn't as embarrassed as I was worried I'd be! P is going to be a very happy married man thanks to my sweet (and naughtier than expected) girlfriends! Then we just relaxed all evening. We thought about going out but ordered pizza instead. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">After a delicious brunch Sunday morning at the Pancake Pantry, we parted ways. It was PERFECT.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">I think there is a lot of pressure on Bachelorette parties to be wild "one last time" before you get married. The thing is, I'm not wild. I'm honestly sort of boring. A wild night usually lasts until midnight and might have involved a bottle of wine at most. And, if I ever do get "wild" I want P to be there. So, I didn't really want to have something that would leave me feeling sick the next day just for the sake of saying I did it. Male strippers gross me out, and I don't care if a random stranger hits on me in a bar. I know some girls want that, and that's great for them. I know this year I'll go to DeHart's Bachelorette party, and we will be absolutely wild! It just isn't for me. And, it's OK to do what I'd prefer for my last "fling." I only hope the other girls weren't bored! :)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">One of my favorite moments of the weekend was DeHart trying on the lacey thing in the RevDocJLa and MaidOH's room. Enjoy! </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0orfwM7TB5ekipVhMP39MR5Nl2JsW1zejSKsI77kHBqjBL7EjVQC-SutEWeqXcYguc_ts8BmYOfqZ56lsICWUy9P_jeTYvAEms4eguJh-mznm1qO2it3JaZzsYfWjj5vPhVNOZIFn7k0z/s1600/mail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0orfwM7TB5ekipVhMP39MR5Nl2JsW1zejSKsI77kHBqjBL7EjVQC-SutEWeqXcYguc_ts8BmYOfqZ56lsICWUy9P_jeTYvAEms4eguJh-mznm1qO2it3JaZzsYfWjj5vPhVNOZIFn7k0z/s320/mail.jpg" t8="true" width="191px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I hope Grandma isn't mad that we borrowed her wedding dress for a photo-op!</span></div>SunshineMThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917954014981403740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5327607836579906976.post-47414477654600802052011-05-20T08:39:00.000-07:002011-05-20T08:59:16.548-07:00Something Old, Something New<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed, Something Blue, and a Six-Pence in Her Shoe"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I'm not entirely sure where this trend started, but it's something I think we all learn as little girls. Some research tells me that it comes from Victorian Times, whichis also where the tradition of wearing a white wedding dress comes from. Maybe it's just the catchy rhyme of the words that keeps it going? Either way, I've thought about what each of these items will mean to me on my wedding day. I've kept things from my youth just to fufill some of these areas while others have been taken care of by friends I've met in my adult years. Each item represents so much to me - the strength of friendships, the love of family, the faith of those around you that your marriage will succeed. It's a nice time to honor those who've passed and celebrate those who stand beside you on this special day. So, let me tell you about my "somethings." They are each so, so meaningful to me!</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzq-c9qg024N04JQGDrFKOF_A0ETxYEerEj92433phh6KqXAQG4Iz9mZNvPk3KelNU3ueP3BGYEpim0jDW5LNv8Wi7j52Lf4emk3iBCURUx7Sq7dZBcBDwZQvEHNGT1Qtmu0tMeWMAsxW_/s1600/mail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191px" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzq-c9qg024N04JQGDrFKOF_A0ETxYEerEj92433phh6KqXAQG4Iz9mZNvPk3KelNU3ueP3BGYEpim0jDW5LNv8Wi7j52Lf4emk3iBCURUx7Sq7dZBcBDwZQvEHNGT1Qtmu0tMeWMAsxW_/s320/mail.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><br />
<h3 class="dynamic" style="background-color: transparent; border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; color: black; overflow: hidden; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><u>Something Old</u></span></h3><div style="background-color: transparent; border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; color: black; overflow: hidden; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"Something old symbolizes the bride’s connection with her family and her past as a single woman."</span></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I have two something old's that I'm carrying. One is my great-grandmother Grace's handkerchief. It's white with yellow flowers, and I love it. My grandmother gave it to me after Mamaw Grace passed in 2003. Our florist is wrapping it around my bouquet. The other "something old" is my Granny, Jamia's, "grandchildren" ring. She had a ring made with all of our birthstones in it. I loved my Granny more than probably anyone I've ever known, and I'm so glad to be able to honor her on our wedding day. I hope my cousins will also want to wear this sweet ring on their wedding days.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><strong><u>Something New</u></strong></span><br />
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<div style="background-color: transparent; border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; color: black; overflow: hidden; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;"><div style="background-color: transparent; border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; color: black; overflow: hidden; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><div style="background-color: transparent; border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; color: black; overflow: hidden; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;">"A new item in the bride’s attire represents the new life she will soon begin."<br />
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I guess my something new is probably my dress and shoes. Or the ring P gave me that started this whole journey? This one is tricky!</div></span><div style="background-color: transparent; border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; color: black; overflow: hidden; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;"><h3 class="dynamic"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><u>Something Borrowed</u></span></h3><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"Borrowing an item to carry or wear on her wedding day reminds a bride that her friends and family are there for her should she ever need their help."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">I also have two something borrowed's. One is my veil. My sweet friend Napolean is lending me her veil for our wedding. It's so beautiful and matches my gown perfectly! The other is a pearl necklace that Pearls is allowing me to borrow. Knowing both of these beautiful women are standing beside me on this day makes them even more special!</span><br />
<div style="background-color: transparent; border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; color: black; overflow: hidden; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;"><h3 class="dynamic"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><u>Something Blue</u></span></h3><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"In many cultures, blue symbolizes faithfulness and loyalty."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Appropriately, my something blue does symbolize faith and loyalty - in many ways! I have a fabulous MTSU garter that my sweet friend Em brought me from Murfreesboro! P and I met at MTSU, and it will always be our favorite place. "For the one true Pride of the Blue, MTSU Raiders Ride!" I also have an azure blue ribbon that was given to me on the day of my ADPi initiation that I'll have tied to something on the day of the wedding.</span><br />
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<div style="background-color: transparent; border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; color: black; overflow: hidden; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;"><h3 class="dynamic"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><u>A Silver Sixpence</u></span></h3><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"A sixpence was a silver coin worth six pennies in England between 1551 and 1967. It was placed in the bride’s shoe to attract wealth to her new marriage."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Technically, my Sixpence is also a "something borrowed" from my sweet friend Disney Princess. She wore it on her wedding day, and I'm so grateful that she's lending it to me for mine.</span><br />
</div></div></div></div></div>SunshineMThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917954014981403740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5327607836579906976.post-16507444142746728472011-05-18T08:32:00.000-07:002011-05-18T08:32:22.737-07:00Fabulousness in an Envelope<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I've never had a lot of "custom" made things. Since I spell my name with an "ie" instead of a "y" I never got the water bottles, key chains, etc. that people get with their names on it because they really jack up the prices when they have to do a "custom job." But, it was never a big deal to me. I had a few very pretty "M" things, and that was always enough. I never expected to have custom wedding invitations made. I'm VERY thrifty and frugal. When I started looking at wedding invitations, my heart dropped. I was thinking there was no way I was going to be able to afford the amount of invitations we needed! Seriously, have you looked at those things!?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">While still at GSU, my old boss had an invitation she'd kept from another girl on campus. The invitation was beautiful and unique. I asked the girl for the details, and she told me how she'd ordered her paper online and had them printed at the print shop on campus. Fantastic news! Except that I was about to move to TN and didn't know where the nearest print shop was. Nor did I have any clue what to print ON the invitation.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">In the meantime, I was chatting with my gloriously talented graphic designer friend, Shauhn. <a href="http://sunshinemt.blogspot.com/2011/02/it-is-by-chance-that-we-met-by-choice.html">Napolean</a></span><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"> was looking for someone to help her design invitations for her little boy's first birthday party. I knew Shauhn had her own little painting and artsy business on the side of her full-time job, so I passed on the information. After seeing the outcome, it dawned on me that she might be able to do the same for me! So, I'd asked her if she would help me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Boy, oh boy, is <a href="http://www.shauhncaughron.com/">Shauhn Caughron Designs</a> talented! I gave broad thoughts about what I liked, and she made it into reality. I'd seen a picture on ETSY, and Shauhn recreated it in 15 minutes. I'd google the wording I wanted to get it just right, and she'd quickly lay out beautiful formats and romantic fonts. I gave very basic requests like "I want a pretty B" and she'd find one that was perfect and change the color to complement my wedding. She did it all - photo altering our "Save the Dates," making a logo for our photo booth and address labels, the invitation and information pieces, and the program for the ceremony.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Many of you have seen the outcome of this design process. It's perfect. It's personal. It's different. It's classy. It's unique yet timeless. It's the perfect invitation for me. And, P loves it, too. I couldn't have imagined anything more beautiful. And, she did it all. If you haven't seen it, or want to look again, see below! :)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">And now, others can have the same kind of custom design for any event for the same price (or less in many cases) than big time invitations companies. I'm so glad Shauhn, and our dear friend Tasha, have decided to go into this business together. I'm also so glad that I'll never have to buy ho-hum invitations again! Email <a href="mailto:shauhn@theinkboutique.biz">shauhn@theinkboutique.biz</a> to get more information. I promise, it's worth it!</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYUtKvTJbRO00fWyv5AOkUbXpBWjOc-TY8cVf3V67Dvme2g84hZAXGzWOXln9QDWWdNQiOTxEMPBSRct_9vN4_ne8F-EN_VwjKtqPqiSkR2O7B_asymmabawwJ0CsWcpzj_xZ-v4JPf-bt/s1600/mail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191px" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYUtKvTJbRO00fWyv5AOkUbXpBWjOc-TY8cVf3V67Dvme2g84hZAXGzWOXln9QDWWdNQiOTxEMPBSRct_9vN4_ne8F-EN_VwjKtqPqiSkR2O7B_asymmabawwJ0CsWcpzj_xZ-v4JPf-bt/s320/mail.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div>SunshineMThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917954014981403740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5327607836579906976.post-30765771301238101692011-05-11T18:04:00.000-07:002011-05-13T13:28:19.959-07:00It's the best feeling in the world...<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">...when you meet new friends that you can't stand to be without. [Unknown]</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">When I first met Pearls, I was terrified. There are very few people in the world that P holds in such high regard. Prior to the weekend at the lake, P warned me that I needed to pass the "{Pearls} Test." This is apparently a test that most folks don't pass on their second and third attempts, let alone the first</span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">. And, well, P really, really cares about Pearls, and he wanted us to not just get along but actually be friends. God love my sweet P.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">What I've come to learn since that first weekend at the lake is that is she is worth every bit of that anxiety I felt at first. I've learned why girls are scared of her, and I've learned that she is so easy to love just the way she is. She can be brutally honest, blunt in her choice of words, and isn't so much a "hugger." I think the reason most women are scared of this is because deep down, we sometimes wish we could be like that. It's hard to always be sweet and candy-coat negative feelings, and it's considered strange if we're not touchy-feely. And, I've already expressed my love for friends who aren't afraid to hurt your feelings because your friendship is stronger than that.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">But the reason I've come to love Pearls on my own is that her core traits are worth the work of getting into her heart. Pearls is <strong>incredibly</strong> loyal. Once she's decided you're worth it, you've got a friend for life. This applies not only to her friendships, but her fanfare. Her addiction to the Nashville Predators is comical to an outsider. She is fierce and cut-throat as a fan. This is probably due to her natural tendency to go all-out when she care about something. She doesn't do anything half-way. Once she's in - she's in for keeps.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">She has the best memory of anyone I've ever met. She remembers those small details that make you feel truly listened to and appreciated. In the same vein, she is unbelievably thoughtful. She's inclusive in sharing and creating memories, and she tailors each opportunity or experience to the person. She is generous with her time, knowledge, and home. No matter what she has going on (and between her job and her business, she has A LOT going on!), she finds time and energy to be there. And not just be there in mere existence but to actually be present and involved in the conversation 100%.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">When Pearls gets excited, there is no hiding it. She is excited with her ENTIRE being. Picture a little kid on their birthday and times it by at least 100. This is also exaggerated by the fact that very few things get Pearls truly excited. Sometimes this excitement is about a Halloween costume and sometimes it's because she's just come up with the perfect idea to make things more unique or special for a friend. Pearls is very creative. Her craftiness is enviable, and I get so excited when she's been crafty in my favor. I think she's so good at this because she has the ability to see both the big picture and the fine details.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I mentioned that I had to pass her test but don't let that fool you into thinking she's some kind of "mean girl." That's actually quite far from the truth. Pearls has a very small, tight group. She doesn't waste energy on having multiple, unimportant acquaintances just for the sake of it. She is very decisive in her relationships, and sometime in college, P won favor in her eyes. Pearls is married to one of P's best friends who is also a groomsmen. Pearls met her match in high school, knowing very early on in their relationship that he was "the one." Again, loyalty to the max.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Over the past two years, I've gotten to know Pearls as my own friend and not just an addition from P's life. She's the primary innkeeper of Hotel Kennedy and graciously hosts me anytime I visit Middle Tennessee. Sometimes we just lay on an air mattress in the living room watching Rocky Horror Picture Show. Pearls is the kind of friend that you're so lucky to make, especially in your adult life, because friends like her are few and far between once your enter "adulthood." Pearls is rare, beautiful, and classy, just like her nickname implies.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIByrVpiARJ7eh2mWYuu9y0yvVSC3bEbmTnQjmWH6v-ltSXHzjDsZlacFeRuANRp_lFEkdRG0XBssj-JBYCexBoxCJYlPxIzBOvLEnwIRew9h8sL9L1zDxeytBMciXuRjxvitiCcw0X31H/s1600/wives.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213px" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIByrVpiARJ7eh2mWYuu9y0yvVSC3bEbmTnQjmWH6v-ltSXHzjDsZlacFeRuANRp_lFEkdRG0XBssj-JBYCexBoxCJYlPxIzBOvLEnwIRew9h8sL9L1zDxeytBMciXuRjxvitiCcw0X31H/s320/wives.bmp" width="320px" /></a></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Leah, me, Andrea, Emily (Pearls), and Megan</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">"Sigma Nu Wives Club"</span></span></div>SunshineMThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917954014981403740noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5327607836579906976.post-27609811423766139272011-05-10T06:03:00.000-07:002011-05-10T06:03:41.533-07:00If you want to hear God laugh...<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">...just tell Him your plans.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Sometimes things change. It's not really 'good' or 'bad' as much as it is 'different.' But, all things change. We change as we grow older, hopefully into better versions of ourselves. Our places change, because of new jobs or a growing family. Our relationships with families change, as we grow from child to adult. Our friendships change, because sometimes all the other life changes land you in some place where common ground is more difficult to find. Sometimes we have to step away and let things air out. There is no anger, no regret, it just is what it is. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">So, we grow, evolve and change. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Because of some of these life changes, our wedding party has changed slightly. Luckily, we have a closing pitcher who has graciously stepped in for the home stretch. (Did I just use baseball terms sort of correctly? Score!) Come back soon to meet our newest wedding party member. I would have it up sooner, but I need time to come up with a creative but adequate nickname.</span>SunshineMThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917954014981403740noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5327607836579906976.post-18411383107321263592011-05-09T13:38:00.000-07:002011-05-09T13:38:47.497-07:00April Showers Bring....<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">A lot of road trips. A guest room full of gifts. Many, many new memories.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">In the month of April, P and I each had our own showers. Mine was beautiful - filled with yellow and flowers and yummy snacks! The ladies in our families and local girl friends came together for some funny games and a lot of fellowship. We had all of our favorite snacks - chex mix, cheese and pineapple bites, fresh fruits and veggies, and the most beautiful cake ever made! Spending time with several older friends mixed with some new fabulous ladies in my life was so fun. It was super relaxing, too, to see our families get along so well. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5_GnG-piBOQeH6Y_dAxt3u5m-rkrXsmqDO-HMv83X_yrRtylTU_x7yXGDMGyDsuWXorYIdzoDWHXzG5-7PBN0yff5U24qt1TGEkkhEGYCEZbLth1KN8Sgmdh9Ly7t45hIFxsudagvJY_i/s1600/blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5_GnG-piBOQeH6Y_dAxt3u5m-rkrXsmqDO-HMv83X_yrRtylTU_x7yXGDMGyDsuWXorYIdzoDWHXzG5-7PBN0yff5U24qt1TGEkkhEGYCEZbLth1KN8Sgmdh9Ly7t45hIFxsudagvJY_i/s320/blog.jpg" width="240px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">White cake with raspberry filling - and almost too pretty to cut!</span></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">P had a "Handyman Shower" where several of his college buddies came together to get his tool collection started. They spent most of the weekend just palling around, and I know it was very refreshing for him to see his friends. I was shocked to hear that he was the first to call it a night when they went out on the Nashville scene. Also, when you get the chance, ask him or his Best Man about "Pat Thacker."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">We traveled to Murfreesboro for a "Chef's Shower" with some of our fabulous college friends. <a href="http://kennedyoccasions.com/">Kennedy Occasions</a> hosted lunch at <a href="http://thechefplace.net/">this</a> delicious little restaurant in Murfreesboro. We each got a new apron (mine says Mrs. Beeler - yay!) and fun kitchen related gifts. The favors were adorable branded wooden kitchen utensils. We were lucky enough to get one of each, and they are so perfect! I don't know if I want to use them or save them! Staying at Hotel Kennedy is always a wonderful experience, and this visit made us miss Murfreesboro badly!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Finally, we traveled to Statesboro for a "Toast the Host" party. The best part of this trip was seeing our Statesboro family! We got to pick Pretty up from the Atlanta airport and spend three hours catching up before we had to share her with anyone else. Hot Librarian has a bun in the oven - and is an early shower, which I adore! It was so sweet to see her during this exciting time in her and Beer Man's life. We stayed at the Greenstein Manor with FutureDrKG and Disney Princess, and it was so much fun to catch up. During the shower, we played bridal party trivia and Battle of the Sexes. It felt like I never left Statesboro - man I missed those folks!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">During all this, it reminds me that even though we have so much going on in our lives, we still have to make it a point to see our friends both near and far. It's easy to say "distance makes the heart grow fonder" until your heart is exploding with joy when you hug them again after almost a year and you think it might really beat right out of your chest. So, once all this wedding fun is behind us, we (me) hope to be blogging far more about road trips, weekends with friends, and nights spend around a kitchen or coffee table playing games. Those are the best parts of any party - the people you're surrounded by! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Afterall, it's all about what makes you smile. (hint: it's not the gifts, even though we're grateful for them!)</span>SunshineMThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917954014981403740noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5327607836579906976.post-79113006948766127182011-04-21T10:35:00.000-07:002011-04-21T10:35:14.661-07:00What do you need? What do you want?<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">With three showers behind us and three left to go (four if you count the lingerie shower at the bachelorette party), we get asked these questions a lot. I've had my girls-only bridal shower and he's had his manly tool's shower, so it's been really fun so far for both of us. But these questions: What do you <em>really want</em> off your registry? What do you <em>need</em>? I have a very difficult time answering. Luckily, almost all of our showers have some sort of theme attached to it - tools, chef's, toast the host, things appropriate for a Christian college parlor room shower, etc. From each of those lists, I can pretty much choose a few things to give options. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">But, most of the time, I respond with "whatever you'd prefer to give us" or "well, we want or need everything on our registry, so you can't lose!" because, honestly, there really is no good answer. On any given day I really want a particular (mostly random) thing. Just the other day I was telling MaidOH that I hate playing the "where's the paper towel roll?" game because P has moved it somewhere in the house, so I really wanted our paper towel roll holder. Apparently I believe it's magic and will somehow keep the paper towel roll locked in it's specific spot in the kitchen. Sometimes we run out of silverware particularly quickly, and I get excited knowing that relief is coming soon. Also, depending on if you ask me or P, you're going to get very different answers. He wants a juicer. I want place settings. Or any other combination of desires. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Next weekend my campus is having a yard sale, as a service project developed by one of our first-year courses, to raise scholarship funds. Faculty, staff, students, community members, etc. have been asked to donate items they'd otherwise give to Goodwill or another charity. In preparation, I've been sorting through our belongings, trying to determine what we really can live without. (Side note: I also did this back in December, taking a huge car load to Goodwill. P doesn't like parting with his belongings, so having to do this twice in one year might push this sweet man over his limit). Since we're not using any of our gifts prior to the wedding, following the rules of etiquette, there are many older, mismatched things we use that we're holding on to for the next 50 days. This presents even more problems - when we clean it out, do I hold it for next year's yard sale or do I go ahead and donate it to Goodwill? Luckily, I have a lot of storage room in my office "house," so the former will likely be the chosen option.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">We've both lived alone or with roommates, so we've gathered a lot of "things" over the years. Mostly hand-me-downs, yard sale buys, or cheap dollar store finds, the stuff we've acquired of the years holds a lot of memories. I've been combating my pack rat tendencies almost to the point of being a minimalist. P still has more clothes than me, even though he wears a (sexy) uniform everyday. Oh well. We're excited to fill our home with things that are <strong>ours</strong>, rather than <em>his or mine</em>. We didn't register for many "frivolous" things that we'll never use, like fine china or crystal platters. I don't have room to store dust collectors! We do have some "it'd be nice to have" things on the registry because, let's be honest, Bed, Bath, and Beyond will suck you in with it's beyond-ness. And, I love kitchen gadgets.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">But, through this whole process, I've been thinking about those two questions. What do I <em>really need</em> or <em>really want</em>? Well, I want to be married to P. I want to go to sleep every night possible beside the man I love. I want to have a family with him. I want to go on new adventures with him. I want to know that I can talk his head off or say nothing at all and that we've still enjoyed the time spent together. I want to grow old with him. I want to retire with him. I want to have enough saved so that we'll be OK should we ever lose a job or get sick or if we ever have a friend in need, we'll be able to help. I need him in my life. None of these items on my "want or need list" require things, really. In 10 years, will we still be using the beautiful place settings? Well, I hope so, but there really is no telling. Will we still use the towels? Unlikely. Will we have bought new pots and pans? Probably. Will we still be going to sleep beside each other as many nights as possible? Abso-freakin-lutely. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">The best part about all these showers? We get to spend time with those we love in small groups. This is especially been the best thing about the out-of-town showers, like the one we have coming up this weekend. Do we appreciate the amazing kindness of our friends and adore the gifts? Of course! But, the best gift I'm getting? P. And, I don't care how dingy, dented, or worn he gets, he's the only one I want, so there will never be a replacement purchase.</span>SunshineMThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917954014981403740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5327607836579906976.post-77427818874786041372011-03-21T07:54:00.000-07:002011-03-21T07:54:38.747-07:00Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you.<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Most of you have read </span><a href="http://sunshinemt.blogspot.com/2011/01/really-big-question.html"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">A Really Big Question</span></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"> and know all about our love story. If you're a details oriented person, you might realize that this really big question happened exactly one year ago today! It was the happiest day of my life to date. In 81 days, I will become Mrs. Patrick Beeler. I saw my name as Mrs. Amanda Beeler on a reservation for our honeymoon, and it hit me like a ton of very nice, pillowy bricks. I've imagined it, I've doodled it, and I've had Beeler inspired monogrammed items since we announced our engagement. But seeing it there, written on a reservation for our honeymoon, made it all seem really, really real. And I cannot wait!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">In 81 days I will get to marry the kindest, funniest, sweetest, and most stubborn man I know. So it is quite serendipitous that our invitations are being mailed out today. OK, maybe not serendipitous <em>exactly</em>, but whatever word means "a happy something-on-purpose." I didn't know a year ago that the timing would work out quite so perfectly. So, maybe it is serendipity.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Either way, invitations are in the mail. <strong>Today.</strong> They will be arriving in the mailboxes of our loved ones over the next week or so. I cannot wait to start getting those YES! responses in the mailbox. And on a side note - Did you know the only postcard stamps they make display polar bears? Don't people on beach vacations usually mail postcards? Polar bears just seem silly to me, but oh, well.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">For those of you who would like to go ahead and start your travel plans, or if you just want to know more about our wedding plans, visit our very cute <a href="http://weddings.theknot.com/pwp/pwp2/view/MemberPage.aspx?coupleId=7271048627472588">wedding webpage</a>. </span>SunshineMThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917954014981403740noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5327607836579906976.post-60714538948842093832011-03-14T09:43:00.000-07:002011-03-14T09:43:22.176-07:00A Special Week<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">This exact week last year changed my life in many, many ways. On Thursday, March 18, 2010, Dr. Suzanne Hine from Tennessee Wesleyan College called to ask me if I was ready to move back to East Tennessee and start a new job developing a service-learning/servant leadership program.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I was at LeaderShape that week, and our location was, to put it mildly, out in the sticks. My phone never rang, just got voice mails. It rarely got text messages, and the internet service was hit or miss. And, I have a good network! It's just when they say you're staying at a rural, country, hunting lodge, they are not kidding. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">So I was driving around <a href="http://flatcreeklodge.com/">Flat Creek Lodge</a> in my golf cart, probably getting chased by crazed geese, when I got a notification that I had a voicemail. I'd assumed I'd missed a call from my On-Site Coordinator or one of the facilitators. But, when I listened to my voicemail, I heard the voice of a soft-spoken Tennessean asking me to call her back. Just the night before, during Guest Leader night, my Director had informed me that TWC had called to check my references. He said it sounded pretty likely that they'd be stealing me away soon, but as everyone in higher ed knows, you have to wait (somewhat patiently) for that official phone call no matter how promising the situation seems. At this point, I'd prayed about it, talked to P about it, and mentioned to a select few friends that there was a possibility that I'd be moving back to Tennessee soon. It's been over three weeks since my interview, and I had been very busy to keep me distracted. God had put a sense of calm over my heart, so I was surprisingly calm when I got a chance to talk to Dr. Hine.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">After I'd accepted, I was in a state of shock. I was about to move back to a place I hadn't lived in 8 years, to solidify a relationship that I hoped was headed toward marriage (and it was being planned, completely unbeknownst to me), and to have the opportunity to be a key piece in a creative process to start a new program. God had truly blessed me! I called P and my parents. This was the time my dad asked, "So when are you getting married?" and almost spilled the beans about upcoming events!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">But, then I had to go to the dining hall with a group of students I adored knowing it was one of the last events I'd get to be a part of with them. I love these students, and I'd gotten to be very close with several of them during my two years at GSU. It was a bittersweet time, since LeaderShape was my favorite GSU event to plan. I smiled and enjoyed my time, and I told the people who needed to know while keeping it from the rest until the right moment. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">I went home from that week exhausted, excited, anxious, nervous, and eager. There were so many questions and so many plans, and I just wanted to sleep. So Saturday when I finally got back to Statesboro, I crashed. I had no idea that the excitement of the week was about to get turned all the way up just 24 hours later!</span>SunshineMThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917954014981403740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5327607836579906976.post-5720365621317133392011-03-07T12:56:00.000-08:002011-03-07T12:56:27.365-08:00Beware of the Guestzillas<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">From the very moment planning begins, people tell you to "make it your own" and choose things that "the two of you love." Yeah, right. You see, I'm a pleaser. I like to make sure everyone is considered and taken care of. Even on "our day." So, from the second I started planning, I've considered what people will think of:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- My dress</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- My bridesmaids dresses </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- Our flowers</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- Our church </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- Our reception venue</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- Our reception food</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- Our lack of wedding cake</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- Our bar selection</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- Our choice of music</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- Our reception decorations</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">and the list goes on.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">It's easy to say, "Don't worry about it! It'll be wonderful!" But, I know there will be Guestzillas.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">You know those people I'm talking about. There are always people that go to a wedding and snicker, "Can you believe she choose as _____(fill in the blank with strapless, halter, material, etc.)_____ dress?" Or those people who judge the food, the drinks, the dessert, the decorations, etc. and try to blow it off as "Well, it's not what <em>I</em> would've done." Well, of course not, since it's not actually your wedding, so you didn't get consulted.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">It's so easy to say you don't care what people think of your wedding, but the truth is, your wedding is one of the most personal experiences you can share with people. You invite people you care about and hope they are as excited to share your day as you are to have them there. But, I've noticed that weddings tend to bring out the worst in the people you think love you unconditionally. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Since I've started planning, I've had people complain/make snide comments about:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- Our date being on a Friday</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- Our date being in the middle of Bonnaroo</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- The time of our wedding (seriously, it's 7:00 PM, it's not midnight.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- My bridesmaids not wearing the same dresses</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- The location of our reception (because it's a whopping 4 miles from the church)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- The fact that we're not serving a traditional wedding cake</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- Our dinner menu selection</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- Having a DJ instead of a band</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- Our wedding colors</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- Where we choose to register</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">among many, many others.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">I know I've not loved every single detail about every single wedding I've been to. But, you know what, <em>it wasn't <u>my</u> wedding</em>, so why did I need to love every single thing about it? I have worn dresses I hated because I loved the bride. I've not been able to eat at the reception because there was no vegetarian option (during my 3 year stint as a veggie). I've gotten lost driving to the reception site because they forgot to include directions. But you know what - I loved those people. Those people loved me, which is obvious by the fact that they invited me. I wouldn't have traded any of those experiences for anything in the world because seeing those people I loved in one of the happiest moments in their lives made me happy beyond words.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Planning this wedding is one of the most stressful, exhausting, scary, exhilerating, and anxiety inducing things I've ever done. On this day, I do not care if I have fancy table linens or huge flower centerpieces or a five-tier cake. As stated in my last blog, <strong>I just want to marry Patrick</strong>. And, those things are just not important to me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">And, for the record:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- I LOVE my dress. As my MatronOH stated, "There was never another dress."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- My bridesmaids look BEAUTIFUL in their unique dresses that fit their personalities.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- Icecream trumps cake. End of discussion.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- Yellow is my favorite color and P is colorblind. If he doesn't care, neither should you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- Sunflowers have always been my favorite.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- Church Street is the most beautiful church in Knoxville.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- The Knoxville Zoo rocks.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- Our food is delicious and filling. You can make the choice on whether or not you enjoy it. I'll be sure to enjoy my plate enough for the both of us.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">- If you'd rather be at Bonnaroo, then just go.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">We can't wait for everyone to celebrate with us. I hope you enjoy the special time with us, the different choices we've made, and if you get a chance to hop on the carousel with RevDocJLa, I promise she'll be entertaining. Just bring her a class of wine when you come.</span>SunshineMThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917954014981403740noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5327607836579906976.post-50838858319531589922011-03-03T11:27:00.000-08:002011-03-03T11:27:10.729-08:00On (not really) Being a Bridezilla<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Towards the end of the series, I got into watching the show <a href="http://www.eonline.com/on/shows/bridalplasty/index.html">Bridalplasty</a>. Brides are competing in various challenges to win plastic surgery, and the winner gets this big, fab, expensive wedding and all her "wishlist" surgery done. At the end of each episode, other brides choose to RSVP to someone's table, and the bride with the least RSVPs goes home. The host tells the losing bride, "Your wedding will still go on; it just won't be perfect."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Hold. The. Phone. Stop. It. Right. Now. Are. You. Serious?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Let's be clear about something - I am a control freak. I live by my color-coded planner and closet, and I have a difficult time believing that my way is not the absolute most efficient and well-planned way of accomplishing whatever task is at hand. I thought I'd be a bridezilla. Some of my bridesmaids thought I'd be a bridezilla. I'm sure all of you thought at least once that I would be a bridezilla. But, by the grace of God, I've actually be pretty chill. In fact, I've had several people say, "This is your ONE chance to let it be all about you! You realize you're being TOO lax, right?" Well, maybe. Maybe not. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Here's the thing: On June 10, 2011 at (around) 7:00 PM I will be walking down the aisle to marry the man of my dreams and become Mrs. Beeler and spend the rest of my life with the funniest, kindest, most handsome, charming, and overall best person for me I could've ever imagined. I will be surrounded by six of the most amazing women to grace this earth. I will have my family, my friends, my co-workers, and the random church janitor there to oohh and awh and whatnot. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Yes, something will go wrong. Events ALWAYS have glitches. It might rain. The florist might show up with pink and purple flowers instead of my beloved sunflowers. I might break a heel on my amazing yellow shoes. Heck, I might fall down the aisle. My dear friend might slip up on the words to the verse she's reading. The organist might play the wrong song. I might run out of programs or birdseed or napkins. Someone might forget the rings. Marble Slab might bring the wrong flavor of icecream. Someone might have a severe nut allergy I'm unaware of. The table linens may be off-center. My grandmother might flip out that we're serving alcohol. RevDocJLa might not ever get off the carousel until the end, so her legs might not work properly. People will choose Bonnaroo over our wedding. Who knows? Something will go wrong. As with everything else in my life, I've made the best plans I can, and it will be what it will be.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">But one thing that will absolutely not be affected by anything that might go wrong: Me becoming Mrs. Patrick Beeler.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">For this to happen, my bridemaids don't need to have matching dresses or shoes. I don't have to serve traditional wedding cake. I don't have to have gigantic centerpieces or fancy linens on my reception tables. I don't have to be getting married on a Saturday. I'm still going to be marrying the man of my dreams.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Before you former or future Bridezillas lash out at me, I know there are many women out there who've dreamed of this big, "perfect" wedding with matchy-matchy maids and the perfect food at the perfectly set tables. The wedding industry makes big, big, big bucks off these dreams. There is absolutely nothing wrong with women or men who have these dreams. Everyone deserves to have their version of a perfect wedding. <u>This is ours</u>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">We're getting married at the church I've wanted to be a member of and get married in since I was a little girl. We're having our reception at a place that brings out our childish side. We're serving food we love. We're being surrounded by people we love. We could not be happier. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Something will go wrong. But, unless he decides not to show up, the only thing that really must go right, will.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">This past week I got some really great advice. A woman I look up to a lot told me to step back two days before the wedding and remember that it's all been planned, it's all being taken care of. If I'm worried about something, I'll pass it off to my mom or his mom or those wonderful bridemaids and girlfriends of mine. She told me to remember that this is our party. <strong>Our party.</strong> Not anyone elses. I sure don't want to miss it. I will enjoy our wedding day - with all it's beauty and wonder and quirks. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Disclaimer: I hope each and every one of you holds me to this.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT7USyHGHFLraVCpNE9J4eL_SdOH5qZ9HCTKnEhbMaocjMVzT1S0OCGbmsR6w6YwL7EO31uRD6OyECTh6sgQG-JqD5-7zDYBzisBcMfzoOFok9-TqcaAoSOkZ8BnGSfpzucnCRQRm7z4kY/s1600/blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" l6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT7USyHGHFLraVCpNE9J4eL_SdOH5qZ9HCTKnEhbMaocjMVzT1S0OCGbmsR6w6YwL7EO31uRD6OyECTh6sgQG-JqD5-7zDYBzisBcMfzoOFok9-TqcaAoSOkZ8BnGSfpzucnCRQRm7z4kY/s320/blog.jpg" width="221" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">If you want to hear God laugh, just tell him your plans.</span></div>SunshineMThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917954014981403740noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5327607836579906976.post-56087486276287112322011-02-23T11:45:00.000-08:002011-02-23T13:24:26.912-08:00(Little) Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">When I first met Diamond, I never imagined in a million years she would become my "little sister" the following year. I was taking an Honors Theater Appreciation class during my first semester at MTSU. Since recruitment occurred in the first couple of weeks, I was super proud to don my newly acquired Greek letters to every class, every meeting, everything. Diamond was the super smart girl who sat in the front row, had an opinion about everything, and knew something about everything. One of her opinions was that sorority girls were dumb. She has said before that she doesn't remember thinking this, but I remember it to be true! ;) Thank goodness K and I were in that class to show her (and everyone else) that the assumption was completely untrue! In fact, I'd like to think we changed some opinions!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Anyway, suffice it to say I was completely shocked with Diamond walked through the doors during recruitment in 2003. I had no doubts she would get a bid - she's incredibly intelligent, completely beautiful, involved in a million different things, held leadership positions on campus, and can talk to a brick wall. When she joined ADPi, we immediately reconnected. When she became my "little sister" aka "Little Diamond," we were bonded for life. The day she became my little Diamond wasn't the best day for me personally. We happened to be getting little sisters on the same day I found out my parents were separated/ing. But, I was determined to make it a wonderful day for Diamond, and I like to think our struggles brought us closer.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Over the next three years, we spent a ridiculous amount of time together. We cried over boys who broke our hearts, laughed together through the late nights of Homecoming, danced our way through formals, and spring-breaked together when we needed a break from the world. Diamond was one of my best friends throughout college and has since remained one of my closest confidants. We continue to support each other through numerous struggles, joyfully reunite whenever possible, and catch up as often and as best we can even though our schedules are incredibly different. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Today I still tell Diamond pretty much every single thing. She is still one of the most beautiful people I've ever met - inside and out. She is still making the world a better place through her heart and her work. We've been through a lot together since we met over eight years ago. But the beautiful part about friendship like ours? It just keeps getting better. I am so blessed to have someone I love literally like a sister stand beside me on my wedding day. She's the only little sister I've ever had, and she's the only one I'll ever want. In June we'll have five generations of my Diamond family standing together for a picture! Just one of MANY reasons to be excited!</span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><> OBIC <></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVYoaRVfiQV5W5M6POSkAvQwVhbdKAwIgMKquSgV-ZpPGfp2IefHE_r3SjgOh9pKs8aSbuykMJEq2qSpSwTUjl4xxGrXGlAZxwsnlsnSfg6rdw6Dt9Qbj2oqp2XDrxmPF4Jr3J92MfFTL3/s1600/diamond.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="215" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVYoaRVfiQV5W5M6POSkAvQwVhbdKAwIgMKquSgV-ZpPGfp2IefHE_r3SjgOh9pKs8aSbuykMJEq2qSpSwTUjl4xxGrXGlAZxwsnlsnSfg6rdw6Dt9Qbj2oqp2XDrxmPF4Jr3J92MfFTL3/s320/diamond.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">2004 - Kristin, 2003 - Lea, 2002 - Mandie, 2000 - Andrea</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Joining us in June for a reunion picture - 2005 - Alison</span></div>SunshineMThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917954014981403740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5327607836579906976.post-8404166329662094042011-02-16T13:14:00.000-08:002011-02-16T13:14:38.001-08:00A friend is someone who understands your past, believes in your future, and accepts you just the way you are.<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">It all started when my overly poofy 80's era hyper color dress smacked her in the face while she was leaning down to reach her cubby hole in second grade. Seymour Cuban and I become instant friends, and we've stayed that way through Beta club, boy drama, religious conversions, graduations, and a whole lot more in between. She's the bridesmaid I've known the longest, and our history is filled with more crazy stories than I have time to write about on this blog.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">In middle school, when I decided to attempt a sport, she didn't laugh at me too hard when I was a terrible soccer player. In high school, she helped me get on the yearbook staff when there really weren't any spots open. In college when my parents divorced, Seymour Cuban opened up her guest room to me anytime I came home for a holiday and didn't want to have to choose between the parents. When I gradauted college and was about to move to South Carolina for grad school, she threw a "Mandie's Going Away Again" party complete with yellow solo cups. She's been to every graduation, no matter how far she's had to drive. She celebrates with me with every up and mourns with me when I'm upset. She knows when to take me swimming in a margarita and opens up her life when I just need a safe place to hide out for a while. No matter what, I can without hesitation say she has always been there for me. Even at our worst teenage drama, I've always known she and I would always be friends. I know I can always count on her, and I think she knows she can always count on me, too.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Seymour Cuban loves the people she loves without any pretense or expectations. She'll go out of her way without a second thought and never expects anything in return. She has supported me with every decision I've ever made, even if she's told me it probably wasn't the best idea. She's unassuming, incredibly thoughtful, and always has my best interests at heart. She is that friend you can call in the middle of the night no matter what it is, and she'll be right there. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I've known for years that I wanted Seymour Cuban to stand with me on my wedding day. She's stood by me through so much, it just wouldn't be the same without her there on such an important day. P and I were lucky enough to watch her say "I do" to her sweetheart in a small, private ceremony. We were the only "friends" in attendance. That's because she is more than my friend - Seymour Cuban is part of my family. The family you choose for yourself. The family you build over many years. It's been 19 years since I met Seymour Cuban. It's been an incredible ride, and I can't wait to see where we're going next. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB4BYs9THUUf1l3mOaoR4mci7OD7mrltcUQ7gIfYUix9dt_MoA-tab6Vurlo84eRFbB-EafjvIorJVciLjTAdD5m5ANGECCvkeSntNSh59I0lu1HGYoBgZA1Dm-bHkwuFZbk8BYp27Tupd/s1600/jr+year.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB4BYs9THUUf1l3mOaoR4mci7OD7mrltcUQ7gIfYUix9dt_MoA-tab6Vurlo84eRFbB-EafjvIorJVciLjTAdD5m5ANGECCvkeSntNSh59I0lu1HGYoBgZA1Dm-bHkwuFZbk8BYp27Tupd/s320/jr+year.bmp" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Seymour High School 2000-2001</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"Somebody's gonna drop everything, run out and crank up their car, hit the gas, get there fast. Never stop to think 'what's in it for me' or 'it's way too far." They just show on up with their big old heart. You find out who you're friends are." - Tracy Lawrence</span></div>SunshineMThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917954014981403740noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5327607836579906976.post-79064350305283678702011-02-01T12:00:00.000-08:002011-02-01T12:00:52.039-08:00It is by chance that we met, by choice that we became friends.<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Napoleon and I were not exactly "friends at first sight." The first time we really talked to each other was at our graduate program's annual Rock Your Undergrad Welcome Back Cookout. I tried to tell her that we should get our dogs together to play, and she tried to tell me to get lost. Napoleon thought I was a dumb sorority girl. And I thought Napoleon had, well, a slight Napoleon complex. I don't remember the exact moment we actually became friends, but I remember being in the same group for our theory class project. Nothing will bring you together like analyzing personality and learning theories. Sometime during that semester we realized we actually liked each other. By Halloween we were half of the Best-Costume-Winning Golden Girls. The next year we decided to live together. Our dogs did, as it turns out, love playing together, even though Sam could drag Pongo around with a rope toy. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Napoleon doesn't let people in easily. That actually makes me feel pretty darn special. She is picky, and I love that about her, even though it made living with her challenging sometimes. I like to think it was good practice for living with routine-driven P. When she chooses to let you in her life, she will love you harder than anyone else ever has. She is brutally honest but also very kind with her words. She <em>feels</em> with you, just like she is experiencing the exact same emotion. She is very practical, except when it comes to shoes. She is introverted and needs her time alone, but she didn't kill me when I blasted music early in the morning and wanted to talk through everything. She is that friend I call when I need a reality check. She is incredibly thoughtful and surprises you with it because she's not mushy at all. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Some of my favorite memories of Napoleon are sitting on the couch, eating whole pickles, watching Hannah Montana, and cuddling with our pups. She is that friend you can just <em>be</em> with. Silence isn't awkward, and you always walk away feeling refreshed. And, she isn't afraid to hurt your feelings. That's probably my very favorite thing about Napoleon. She doesn't aim to hurt your feelings, but she would rather bruise your ego a little bit than watch you get yourself into a bad situation that you might get stuck in. I firmly believe that's what makes someone a true friend.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">I was blessed to be able to stand by Napoleon on the day she said "I do." I love her and Marky Pooh so very much. Now I get to love on her little boy, too. After P proposed, I immediately started talking plans with her. Funny story though, I actually forgot to ask her to be in the wedding. I'd assumed it was just understood. Good thing she feels the same way, otherwise this blog post would be super awkward.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglpKDiijMy4GtmUHdLo3UAN6DsD8a_t4hOa8TgOZ6MQ-j8zimqL27OKUtqJARmpRFwo5ZzKk5U35KY9wWwCAjFTrfZxdS6GB9KNYp-nUvXF6SXNwBDSpn_k6KCDnigV8X7zZ5kx447mh5U/s1600/Heather.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglpKDiijMy4GtmUHdLo3UAN6DsD8a_t4hOa8TgOZ6MQ-j8zimqL27OKUtqJARmpRFwo5ZzKk5U35KY9wWwCAjFTrfZxdS6GB9KNYp-nUvXF6SXNwBDSpn_k6KCDnigV8X7zZ5kx447mh5U/s320/Heather.JPG" width="215" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="body"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">The real test of friendship is: can you literally do nothing with the other person? Can you enjoy those moments of life that are utterly simple?</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> [Eugene Kennedy]</span></span></div>SunshineMThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917954014981403740noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5327607836579906976.post-45808671665046757912011-01-27T13:28:00.000-08:002011-01-27T13:48:05.563-08:00If I paid for my friends, I surely didn't pay enough.<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">In the fall of 2002, I met an amazing woman. I moved to Murfreesboro to start college with two of my friends from high school, and we decided we would go through sorority recruitment together. When all was said and done, I was the only one who joined a sorority at MTSU. I was thrown into a group of 39 women from all over the place, with all kinds of talents, each just as unique as they were beautiful. We all had a common bond - the Alpha Class of 2002 for Alpha Delta Pi.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Sometime during our freshman year, K and I decided we would live together during sophomore year. With another ADPi sister and a Zeta friend, we chose an apartment and made plans. K and I shared one end of the hallway, and the four of us shared a year of changes. That was the year K met her now husband. It was the year my parents got divorced and my great-grandmother passed away. It was the year one of our roommates got serious about pageants and another quit being serious about school. We had many ups and plenty of downs. Come on, four girls in 1,000 square feet is bound to bring the drama. But, I knew even then that K and I would always be friends, no matter what happened in our lives. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">K and I have, in fact, always remained close. She is also from Knoxville, and after she married, her and the Mr. settled in Knoxville. We always got together when I was home for the holidays, and we've always had the kind of friendship that you just pick up where you left off. No matter how long it's been since we've chatted or seen each other, we are just right back. I love those kinds of friendship, don't you? When I moved back to East Tennessee, we got together and celebrated that we were living close together again. Sometimes our plans follow through, sometimes they have to change, but we always reunite just like we saw each other yesterday.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">After P and I got engaged, I knew I'd want K to be a bridesmaid. She is so unbelievably kind, with the biggest heart I've ever known. She has a way about her that makes you spill every secret you've ever had and is completely non-judgemental. She has a sweet relationship with the Lord that makes you want to find that for yourself if you haven't already. She is the kind of person who makes you strive to be a better person. She is so very smart and is always working to better the world by being a better nurse. K really is one of those people that you couldn't find something negative to say if you tried forever. She has stood with me when I needed someone on my side, stood behind me when I needed someone to hold me up, and I couldn't imagine not having her stand beside me on my wedding day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Watching K and the Mr. marry was one of the best memories I have a of K. She was the most beautiful, glowing bride I'd ever seen. I am beyond blessed that this crazy busy wife/mom/student/nurse will take some time away from saving the world to stand by me on one of the most important days of my life.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnH1oSVaOodkmYZJn47gupfiSaSjl9qudHTqKcJM-t4bSeMD9Blw0wX6DRlC33FAvUWYQLmUz6IeRiDYpI5TJDrrH7HSBbKgBoFbyJzpWnop5nGOZ5MFoGb84YP8Eybtp0r-jYlW8XPLSL/s1600/blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnH1oSVaOodkmYZJn47gupfiSaSjl9qudHTqKcJM-t4bSeMD9Blw0wX6DRlC33FAvUWYQLmUz6IeRiDYpI5TJDrrH7HSBbKgBoFbyJzpWnop5nGOZ5MFoGb84YP8Eybtp0r-jYlW8XPLSL/s320/blog.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">The ladies of 305: Myranda, Katelyn, Erin, & Mandie</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="color: black;">Sisters function as safety nets in a chaotic world simply by being there for each other. [Carol Saline]</span></span></span></div>SunshineMThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17917954014981403740noreply@blogger.com1