the parade

The last time we went, we were pushing a strollers. Yes... it has been that long. Once upon a time, the Christmas parade downtown was an annual event for us... but as the kids get older, we seem to be busier. (And living another 20 minutes away doesn't make it any easier) And then there are the crowds... Eric doesn't much care for them. But this year... I really wanted to go. He is such a good man...and just to make me happy, he arranged his schedule so that it would work. I must have said thank you at least ten times... because I really wanted him to know that it meant a lot to me. Especially after we had to fight traffic to get into the downtown area. And especially when he didn't turn around and head for home once he argued over a parking space with the valet guy. We did find a spot to park... only a brisk walk, not too far away. And we even had a great place to stand (wish we had grabbed a couple chairs!)
The parade? Well, I said thank you again... when there was a ten minute lull in the action. But eventually it started moving again... and the entertainment grew increasingly more enjoyable. Sometimes it doesn't matter what the entertainment is... as long as you are together with the ones you love. And it is not necessarily the amount of candy you take home... the enjoyment is often in the scrambling, and the sharing. And the very best part of the night? Always... the smiling faces and the reflection of colored lights in dancing in their eyes...

dear eric...

I want you to know…

…that this made me laugh out loud.

I want you to know...
that I know my food doesn’t magically appear in the refrigerator.
And I realize it is not elves lending their hands when I fall behind.

And that I was really thankful for the simmering pot of spaghetti sauce on the stove.

I want you to know…
…that I know I am the lucky one.
Because you show me everyday that you are the better half of us.
And that I am thankful for the Dad you are…
and that we share a Savior.

I want you to know…
…that it touches me my heart when you say I am the best wife ever…
but that I know, in reality, you’d like your clothes ironed and put away once in a while.
(but I makes cupcakes… and really, isn’t that more important?)

I want you to know…
…that when you send me a message, it is my pleasure to listen…
because I love you.

Sorry they were out of your favorite kind...

a most beautiful gift

It is Wednesday, and I am almost regretting taking Monday off. Almost... but not quite... because it was too much fun mixing up cheese balls with my Mom and my kids. But the week is looking long. Any other week I would be rejoicing that tomorrow is Thursday... but now I am just hoping for the energy to get through a few more days.
It is Wednesday. And Wednesday is piano day. I love it dearly... but in the getting there I start to droop. Leave work. Drive half-way home. Pick up Camden in the Super Target parking lot, where either Eric or Gran meets up with me. Drive back within two miles of work. Enjoy Camden's 30 minute lesson. Drive home. Make dinner... fall in a heap on the couch and cringe at the view. But all the while, I know there is only one more work day and I can make amends for the housework that has been left to itself and multiplied in my absence. But not this week. Monday off... work Friday. To prepare for our big fundraising event on Saturday.
After work today... as I was heading down five flights of stairs, my phone rang. Eric. Please don't tell me you have already left for Target. But I push aside the thought and answer with, I'm sure, a less than pleasant hello. His voice, twenty miles away, had a big idea. How about I drive into town with Cam so you don't have to drive all the way out here? I almost cried. But instead I breathed a thank you... and smiled. Honestly... the gift he gave me in that moment was more beautiful than if he had presented me with a dozen roses. And in his thoughtfullness, I am blessed with that extra bit of energy I need to get through the week.

his birthday

My husband isn't one to let you surprise him. About eleven months before his fortieth birthday he started asking if we were going to have a party. And not in the nonchalant Do you think we could have a party? way... it was more in the Are we having a party? Huh? Huh? Are we having a party? way. It is one of the things that makes me laugh... one of things I love about him. His excitement his joy... his little boy ways. Perhaps it is something about us that we love... the silliness that we invite and accept into our life on a daily basis. But for a special day... there was especially more. And so... there was a party. Delicious food in abundance, with a Honey baked Ham (his absolute favorite!) as a centerpiece, desserts and a scavenger hunt that resulted in hearty laughter and friendly debate. (Yes, it does count that my team retrieved shopping bags from out of the recycle bin in front of Staples! And a mustard packet does count as a free sample if you slurp the entire amount from the package!)
Yes, it was an evening overflowing with fun... but it was more than just that. It was a celebration of life and friendships and love. Because there is no man on this earth that I would rather laugh with... no other man I would dream of sharing a life with. And at forty, I believe the fun has only just begun...