18 years later...

On this day in history: 

1804 - Napolean Bonaparte was proclaimed Emperor of France

1860 - The Republican Party nominated Abraham Lincoln for President

1927 - The Ritz Hotel opened in Boston

1986 - "Singin' in the Rain" closed at Gershwin Theater NYC after 367 performances

and

1996 - Chris and I stood before our friends and family and were proclaimed husband and wife.

We both had to do a double-take when we realized that today marks18 years of us being married.  That's a really, really long time.  We've been together longer than it took us to graduate high school.  Longer than we waited to drive. Longer than Judge Judy has been on TV.

I love those couples where it just "works" - those #stillmadlyinlove #moreinloveafteralltheseyears couples, where marriage is effortless and the time flies because they are having so much fun. I am in awe of those couples.  I think we use to be one of those couples, but somewhere along the way marriage got hard.  There have been moments in the past 18 years where we did not like each other and moments where we didn't like ourselves.  There have been disagreements.  There have been nights where we went to bed mad and really just needed a good night of sleep before we could speak to each other.  There have been fights about money and mornings where we woke up on the wrong side of the bed. There have been misunderstandings and there have been mistakes.

It has not been 18 fabulous years of constant bliss or 18 years where I've loved every moment. It's been 18 years of learning to communicate and work together as a unit, raising kids who aren't always easy to raise, and committing to love another person who isn't always easy to love. 

So I don't celebrate our anniversary today because of the fairytale it has been.  I celebrate today because even though it hasn't been easy, we're still together, still committed, and still determined to love each other and figure out what that looks like in this ever-changing world and in our ever-changing lives.  I celebrate because we're still here, when it would have been easier at times to walk away.  I celebrate because it's actually been the storms and the strong winds that have made us grab a hold of this life together and grow our roots stronger.  It has been the hard moments that have made us consciously look at each other and say, "I still choose to love you, and I'm not going anywhere." 

Happy Anniversary, Chris.  18 on the 18th.  Thanks for navigating this life with me -- sometimes knowing where we are going and sometimes just being lost with me.  I'm glad you're here by my side -- I wouldn't want it any other way. 

xoxo

Sister

A sister is someone you share life with
Share memories with
Share parents with
Share late-night-under-the-covers-with-the-flashlight-on moments with
Secrets
"I-got-your-back"
"Don't-worry-your-hair-will-grow-back"
"I hate you"
"I love you"
"He didn't deserve you anyway"
"I'm proud of you"
And everything in between.

My sister has taught me that no matter what, I will never live life alone, because she will always be first in line to grab my hand and say, "Come, let's walk this road together."

Happy birthday, sis. Wishing you an amazing year ahead of being loved the way you love.

xoxo

Where I'm From

I’m from Tinker Toys and rotary phones, from The Carpenters coming to life in my basement and discovering the Sound of Music for the first time.

I’m from dogwood and honeysuckle and endless summer days in a backyard of mighty oaks.

I’m from chores and Sunday drives. I’m from homemade sweet rolls and formal dinners with cloth napkins.

I’m from God’s grace and forgiveness and don’t judge lest ye be judged.

I’m from secret clubs and roller skating on the driveway and Are You there God, It’s Me Margaret.

I’m from Goodbyes and Hellos and new homes every 2 years. I’m from Texas - DC - Hawaii - Tokyo and home is where your heart is, along with a well-stamped passport.

I’m from family dinners around the table and meals that begin with prayer.

I’m from the Tuckers and Hennebergers who could not be more different and a discovery that I’m a little bit of both.

I’m from ‘it’s best to conform’ and a growing determination to be my own me that’s just a little different from anyone else.

I’m from stubborn and perfection and loving and laughter and fighting and always making up before the sun goes down.

I’m from stories that were told over and over but never written down and old black and white photos stored in a cardboard box. I’m from never forgetting who I am, whose I am, and where I come from. And being satisfied with all three.

That Face!

I love having a long weekend to spend time loving on this girl







And this girl







How blessed we are!

A Tale of Two Dads

Picture a young man -- some would say still a kid -- marrying his bride and getting commissioned into the Air Force. And just when they thought they'd figured out marriage and Air Force life, along came a baby girl. And then 16 months later, another baby girl came along. Not that the guy was disappointed, he just thought he'd have 4 boys, not two girls. Being Dad to two girls can be tough, especially when you didn't really have a Dad around to show you what being a Father is all about.

But he prayed a lot. And talked to the Mom a lot. And apologized a lot.

And that's how he became a really amazing Dad.

My older sister was a lot easier to parent than I was. I liked to do the exact opposite of what I was told. I liked to push the boundaries. I liked to make up my own mind. I liked to do things my own way. My poor Dad. But you know what? He stuck with me. It was frustrating, no doubt, but he believed in me. Actually, he believed in God and believed that God could do something good in my life.

Now picture another guy. Two years out of college, marrying his best friend. He was happy in his career and enjoyed traveling and being spontaneous. And then after 5 years of just the two of them, a baby girl came along. Exactly what he wished for in his most private prayers. And she stole his heart. She screamed a lot those first few months, but all he could do was hold her and love her and realize that the amount of time she would spend screaming would pale in comparison to the amount of time she would spend growing up and learning new things and becoming her own little self. Being Dad to a strong-spirited girl can be tough, even when you had a great Dad to show you what being a Father is all about.

But he prayed a lot. And talked to the Mom a lot. And apologized a lot.

And that's how he became a really amazing Dad.

Today I celebrate the two men I love more than the most eloquent of words could ever describe -- my Dad and my Husband. Two men who are great Fathers, not because they always know what to do or never mess up, but because they LOVE. They love God and they love their girls with that real love, that never-give-up-on-you, see-your-potential, want-the-best-for-you, be-available-to-you-at-all-times, trust-God-with-you, ask-for-forgiveness kind of love.

And that is an amazing way to be loved.

Home Alone

Since ChellBell is on Spring Break, she and Chris ventured to Misery Missouri to see Chris' Grandma and cousins for a few days. Chris' sister, Marci, made the long road trip with them, along with her puppy, who no doubt was entertainment in the car and at Grandma's house. (Grandma asked if Marci would leave her dog there. Not sure if Grandma thinks it's customary to leave a parting gift, but I'm thinking that dogs are not on the list of appropriate things to give or to ask for.)

So while the house was quiet -- well, not so quiet, because I had the Big Dog and Little Dog with me, barking at every blowing leaf, squirrel, and passing neighbor -- I got a few things done. The major one being that I cleaned out our garage refrigerator, which now tops my list of least-favorite-things-to-do-while-my-family-is-out-of-town. I also got to hang out with my friend Michelle and do a little shoe shopping, Cheesecake Factory eating, and St. Patty's Day party attending. (Thank goodness she's pregnant, so I had someone to help me stick to my decision to give up alcohol for Lent!)

No offense to Michelle, or even the fridge in the garage, but the funnest thing I did during my time at home alone was this:



I can't wait for ChellBell to get home tonight and see it! Eeeks!

403 Clermont

When my Dad was 6 years old, his parents packed up him, his sister, and their relatively few belongings and moved from the thriving metropolis of Arkadelphia to Big D -- Dallas, that is. They planted themselves in a 2-bedroom/1-bath and made 403 Clermont their home.

I counted this morning that I have had 22 addresses in my 39 years of life. That's a lot of moving around, thanks primarily to the military (oh, and that bad roommate situation in college, which helped up that number). I've had so many house numbers, APO boxes and apartments over the years, that I honestly can't remember more than about 3 of them.

But I can tell you my Grandma's address, because it has never, ever changed.

To most people, it would look like not much about my Grandma's house has changed in the 60-ish years that she has lived there, except for the addition of orange shag carpet in the 70's, which is still there, covering up the original hard woods, and the added-on family room that now connects the house to the once-detached garage. Pictures have made their way to walls and shelves, and the music box collection in the front room has grown over the years. But the back room is still blue, the kitchen still has no dishwasher, and the old gas radiators are still used in full force. The old oak tree is still in the back, and the kitchen stool where my Dad sat to have his meals is still in the corner waiting to be climbed on by the Great Grandkids. The house still has the distinct, oddly-comforting smell that it has always had, resembling a mix of Old Spice and room deodorizers.

But 403 Clermont knows change. And if that house could tell us all it has seen over the years, it would tell the stories of a woman who endured change. A woman whose husband loved his job more than his family. A woman who was left behind after someone else caught her husband's eye. A woman who struggled to teach her children respect, when she barely knew what it felt like to be respected. A woman who was uneducated, trying to understand why her son would go to college. A woman who searched for love and finally found it in her 50's. A woman who faced her fear of flying and went to Hawaii. A woman who coped with the issues of life by laughing and watching Wheel of Fortune. A woman who has watched friend after friend pass. A woman who went to church, and no matter what chaos swirled around her in life, knew that God was on her side.

Today we will bury my Grandma. But for anyone passing by 403 Clermont, it looks like just another Wednesday. The DINKs who now own the surrounding tudors with their stainless appliances and BMWs in the driveway will go to Starbucks this morning and then head to the office. The nearby golf course will be busy. School buses will pass, holding kids who dread the day. But for a handful of us, the world will actually come to a halt. We will gather as a family one more time in that 2 bedroom/1 bath home, as we have done over the years, and we will say goodbye to our Mother/Grandma/"GiGi".

And 403 Clermont will change once again.

Extraordinary-ness of Sept. 9

Sometimes the small things in life make for the extraordinary. Tonight, it was belly-laughing with Chris and ChellBell. Being silly and crazy at bedtime, laughing so hard that we had to hold our stomachs from the pain, no sound coming out, just tears pouring down.

Moments like that are too few and far between, but worth the wait.

And ChellBell will sleep well tonight.

What was extraordinary in your world today?

Extraordinary-ness of Sept. 8

What is extraordinary about today?

For the 66th time, my Dad will celebrate another year of life today. And those of us who are lucky enough to know him, celebrate alongside of him. Let me tell you about him…

My Dad always has a good joke to tell.
He sets his DVR to record shows that he thinks I will like.
He is a gifted writer.
He has beautiful handwriting.
He taught me to dream big.
If he can see it in his head, he can build it, sculpt it, draw it, paint it.
He is the fix-it guy with cars and leaky pipes and gadgets.
He retired as the Director of Advertising for the Air Force.
He grew up in a family that mocked education, but he worked his way through college and then completed a Masters degree.
He has been married and faithful to my mother for 42 years.
He still gets emotional when he talks about how much he loves “his girls” – my Mom, my sister, and me.
He has a keen sense of right and wrong, and he chooses to do what is right.
He tells my husband that he loves him and is proud to call him “son”.
The only thing more important to my Dad than his family is his faith in Christ.
Daddy sees things in analogies. He looks around and sees how daily, routine things can help us understand bigger truths.
He is humble.
He is an engaging speaker.
People like to follow him.
He has a passion for showing people who God is.

I respect him as a man, not just as my Dad. To me, he is a drum in the band, keeping time, keeping everyone on course. If he were to stop or get off-beat, we would all be lost. He is one of the rare people who can look back on life and know that he made a difference. Not just to one person, but to hundreds. I doubt he’d ever do that, because he keeps looking ahead, looking to see what comes next. And if anyone is grateful for the impact he’s had, he would attribute it all to God.

Extraordinary, indeed.

Happy Birthday, Daddy.

We're Baaaaaaaaaaaack!

It has been like missing a hand or an eye. Our internet has been down.

I'm still not sure what the issue was, but Verizon sent several parts before they got the right one to us. Fortunately (sigh) we are back up and running, and I am now running like a mad women to catch up on all the posts, Facebook statuses (stati?), and emails that I have missed.

And now kind of remembering how nice it was the last week to just sit and read books with ChellBell in the evenings.

Nah, just kidding. I'd rather be with you all, finding out what cool things you're up to this summer.

Since there was no internet this weekend, we decided to go out of town. We ventured 194 miles south to see a sweet new Darling that I've been dying to get my hands on. Unfortunately, the "distractions" of the past month have kept me from getting to love all over this little one, but I tried to make up for it by holding him as absolutely much as I could this weekend. I did have a little competition -- no surprise, just look at this face!

It was a fantastic weekend of just hanging out and catching up with dear friends!

Can't you imagine these two at camp together this summer?!

As we headed back home on Sunday, we stopped in Waco at Chris' and my Alma Mater -- Baylor University. More importantly, though, we stopped at Health Camp, the greasiest dive in the South, for a legendary Peanut-Butter-Chocolate Milkshake. (These are amazing shakes -- I have been known to put my family in the car and make the almost-2-hour-drive to Waco just for a shake. Actually 2, because I will drink one while we are there and get another for the trip back to Dallas!)

We hung out on campus for a little bit while finishing our shakes, telling ChellBell stories about our younger days (gulp -- I realized that it was 21 years ago that I entered as a Freshman!). Baylor Tidbit: Legend has it that the first boy you swing with at Baylor is the boy you are going to marry. I'm certain that Chris wasn't the first boy I swung with, but I am certain that he is my favorite...

We finally reached home sweet home, and our perfect weekend ended with the first-ever family Oven Mitt Thumb War, which is not as easy as it looks.

My Dad's better than your Dad

HA! Just kidding (maybe...). My Dad is pretty cool, and I'm crazy about him. Crazy enough that I wanted to marry someone who would be as amazing of a husband as my Dad is to my Mom and as great of a Dad as mine has always been to me.

Mission Accomplished.

Happy Fathers Day to the 2 men I love the most in life, and who have, in so many ways, influenced who I am and who I strive to be every day.

(chellbell took this picture!)

Just what the doctor ordered...

My Doctor told me to take it easy this week and avoid stress. I am back at work, so I am clearly not following Doctor's orders. Poor Chris was sweet and supportive during my out-of-nowhere break down last night, and then my parents "swooped in" and rescued us, as they always do in such a timely way.

Mom and Dad got tickets for tonight's RoughRiders game (our minor league baseball team) and invited me, ChellBell, Chris, and my nephew Nathaniel to be their guests for an all-fun, no-stress evening. The tickets were "Founders Club," so we had wrist bands that gave us all-you-can-eat-and-drink access to 3 different restaurants and great seats right behind home plate. Take a look:

Nathaniel and ChellBell

Sadly, someone in my family ate this as part of their dinner. (Not telling who, but it was definitely NOT one of the girls!) This was just the "first course" before we found the BBQ restaurant...

My sweet friend, my Mom (she just started a new blog, by the way -- you can find it in my sidebar under Lessons Learned in the Garden...)

The Cha-Cha-Slide

The guys, clearly NOT participating in the Cha-Cha-Slide

ChellBell and Daisy

Fun times, exactly what I needed. Thanks, Mom and Daddy, for always knowing how to make things better. You are unwavering sounding boards, genuine cheerleaders, my pier and beam. Thanks for walking hand and hand with me through life. One day, I promise, I'll "get it" and be able to respond to you the way you respond to me -- bearing all things, believing all things, hoping all things, enduring all things.