What being married has taught me about love.

Thursday, June 20, 2013
    I grew up in a society that taught me that one day I would fall in love. And as a little girl, the word love, and its association with princesses, castles, and princes, couldn't be more appealing. Growing up was full of acting out love as I knew it. What started as doll weddings, progressed to anticipated dates and dances, which led to writing my name in front of someone else's last, with the idea that "this feeling" I got around a guy must be what love feels like. I was convinced that butterflies, nerves, and a date I was especially excited to go on, meant that I was at last "falling in love."

    I soon found myself in the teenage cycle of "falling in love"... getting my "heart broken"... falling "out of love..." only to find myself "falling back in love" again. All these emotions did not make sense.

    The movies and stories had always painted a picture that when you "fell in love" it was for always and forever...  So then why, everywhere I looked, did I see families falling apart, people claiming they "fell out of love," or their mate, "didn't treat them right."

    The movies and stories taught me that there was no monster so large, or fight so strenuous that could not be won for love...  but if that was true, how was it possible that the only fights I saw were couples fighting, not for each other, but against.

    The movies and stories taught me the magical phrase "happily ever after..." however half the happily "just married"s became "fortunately done forever"s, another percentage point on the growing divorce statistic board.

    It took me getting married to realize that society taught me a lie.

    You don't fall in love.

    Love is a choice you make every day, it is not a state of being suddenly thrust upon you when you meet someones gaze. That is attraction. And while I am a firm believer that attraction can lead to love, it is not the same thing as love. Because while attraction can be sudden, love cannot, it must be built. While attraction can suddenly end when someone no longer meets the "eyes" expectation, love will never end, we just decide to stop loving.

    There are many different ways people have described true love. But in my opinion, and through my experience, I think there is no better description of love than the one we find in 1st Corinthians, Chapter 13.  

    Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; 
charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up.
Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil;
Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth;
Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things
Charity Never Faileth.
    Love was never meant to be easy, its not easy because its worth it, and things that are worth it are never made easy. But one thing I know is that nothing can get in the way of true love. I know I have only been married a year, but in that year I have learned in very hard, but worthwhile ways, what it means to love someone. People always comment on how perfect me and Ash are together, and I couldn't agree more. I attribute this to more than our just chemistry. I attribute it to love.

    That love that leads him to get up with me in the middle of the night, with no complaint, because I am scared. The love that makes it easy to get up early every morning to make him breakfast, so he can get 15 more minutes of sleep. The love that says "when you mess up, I will help you, not condemn you."  The love that sees the best in someone, when society would tell you they did you wrong. The love that makes every day a chance to serve each other, not asking anything for ourselves.

    Love is selflessness. It is the ability to do good to someone, no matter how they treat you. I think the goal in a marriage is for both people to develop complete selflessness for each other. Which is hard, but I believe it is harder to live selfishly, because their is no joy in that life, and there is only pain in those types of marriages. To love you have to see beyond yourself.

      I believe I have a long way to go before I can say I love perfectly. But each day I sure do try. I am completely in love with Ash. But I didn't just fall there. I made a choice the day I married him to love him no matter what, unconditionally, and forever. And that choice has made my life more wonderful and beautiful than anything I could have imagined, despite any bad that life has thrown our direction. True love, while not easy, is possible, and worth it.

    Society taught me wrong, yes. Happily Ever After doesn't just get handed to you, but it is possible because whether or not you get a happily ever after isn't determined by fate, it is determined by you.

Click this link for a video that does a better job describing what I'm trying to say in 4 minutes, then I have done in a thousand words...           

I Think I'm Loosing My Mind

Wednesday, June 19, 2013
    I have had an onslaught of brain cell death these last few weeks. Okay let's be honest, I am becoming a little... sssslllllooooow . I am not kidding. I am going to apologize for blaming everything wacky that's happening to my body on being prego because I am about to add another "prego problem" to my growing list. And, considering I apologized, now I don't feel as bad for blaming this new found brain damage on being prego as well.

    That being said...

    Today was cray cray. I got up at 3 am, helped get Ash out the door to work, went back to sleep for an hour or so, wake up to my phone going off, it was Ash, he got a modeling job and needed sweet potatoes so he could carb load... and he wanted them for lunch which meant I had to get up quick because to get sweet potatoes I needed to cash his check, and I needed gas because the car was running on I-am-way-past-low-you-should-have-filled-me-up-10-miles-ago. Etc. Etc. Etc. You probably don't care about all these little details, but needless to say, I had a lot to do before Ash got home, hungry for lunch.

    I get to the gas station with 16 bucks. A 10, 5, and 1. I sat in the car way to long decided if I was going to put in 10 bucks... or 15... but then if I did 15 then I would have a 1 dollar bill left over, and who wants a 1 dollar bill just chillin their in its nothingness? So I decide to just put all 16 in. After that 30 minute debate at the gas pump (told you I'm slow), I head into the station and give them the 16 bucks. Then I go out and start filling up my tank...

    For some reason as soon as I start filling up the tank, my turtle brain all of a sudden is convinced that I gave the cashier 13 dollars. So when the pump didn't stop at 13 dollars I panic and quickly stopped it myself. I was so mad because I didn't want to break a 20 to pay the $1.58 cents I went over with. I walk inside reluctantly with my 20, and when I get to the desk, the girl opens the register and hands me $1.58. I look at her and say, "Aren't I supposed to pay you?" She goes, "I'm pretty sure I pay you actually... you stopped your pump early." And I said, "No no! I didn't stop it soon enough. I went over the 13!" She then proceeds to tell me that I gave her 16 bucks with a confused face. It was then that it all came back to me... I was humiliated, and she just laughed and laughed and all I could say was "I am sorry, I am losing my mind!"


    What was I thinking? Yeah, I know I wasn't. Just like I wasn't thinking when I was making Ash scrambled eggs and ended up pouring the milk in the warming frying pan, instead of with the eggs I was beating. Or the time I made Ash cookies and put the vanilla extract in the flour instead of with the wet ingredients. I know these are all little mistakes, but when you have a billion little mistakes all day, every day, it gets old. So I hope this goes away after I have the baby, that's for sure.


Would You Like Flies With That?

Wednesday, June 12, 2013
    My message today is: do not spare the life of a fly that is flying in your home.

    I did and it backfired on me big time.

    Something you might not know about me is I call all flies "Stewart." (I also call all bees Fredric and all spiders Stanley). I started doing it a little while ago to make Ash laugh, but then it kind of stuck around. The problem with naming any type of animal, is that you grow attached to it. Yes even with flies... Just kidding, I'm not THAT attached, and no I do not want to raise a pet fly, I just feel bad about killing them now!

    Yesterday I was in the kitchen making lunch for Ash. As I mixed the salad I heard buzzing above my head. I looked up and sure enough there was Stewart sitting on the wall above my head. My first thought was to swat him, but that plan was soon set aside when I remembered that I don't own a fly swatter (young and married problems). I could always use a shoe, or paper, or some other object, but that seemed pretty graphic to me, because I would probably miss over and over again, slowly deforming the poor thing. So, I figured that if I opened the window Stewart would eventually fly out and all would be well. Ash got home soon after and we started eating lunch. I soon forgot about Stewart because I had not heard buzzing for quite some time now, I figured that he had flown out the window.


    As I was eating my salad, I breathed in through my nose and felt like I had inhaled a cotton fuzzy that must have been in the air. I quickly exhaled out of my nose and thought, "That was weird." But since I didn't feel like anything was in my nose anymore, I figured I had gotten rid of the cotton/whatever was in my nose.

    NBD right?


    I continued to eat my salad. As I put my fork in the bowl to get another piece of lettuce...

    I saw Stewart...

            .....laying in my dressing.....
                                     ...DEAD with a leg twitching!!

    It was then that I realized that it was NOT a cotton fuzzy in my nose earlier, it was STEWART! And I had killed him by blowing him out of my nose, into my salad dressing. That is not only disgusting, but that had to be the worst way to die. I seriously cannot stop itching my nose and blowing it. I think I am scarred for life.

    RIP Stewart, I know my plan was to spare your life, but obviously that did not happen. I will now proceed to blow my nose again.

    Just another day in the life.


Death By Potato Peelers

Friday, June 7, 2013
I have to start off by saying that last night, I had possibly the scariest dream of my life.

All those stalker dreams, husband not liking me dreams, war dreams, end of world dreams... Yeah this tops it. 

Okay I'm kidding. I've had worse dreams. But this one was pretty bad... 

When you are going to have a baby, many magical somethings suddenly start happening to your body. Morning sickness, no appetite one second, huge appetite the next. Every leisure moment of my life, I had to spend going the bathroom because the waters never stop flowing (I even made a game... How many times can Natasha go 10 minutes without peeing? .... I never win). 
Fun happy mornings with a delicious breakfast, leads to the sudden erge to hang out a bit with the porcelain friend down the hall. Oh and tears, we can't forget tears, I cry all the time.

At everything. 

My husband buys me ice cream... I cry.
My husband doesn't buy me ice cream... I cry. 
I watch a movie... I cry. 
I don't watch a movie... I cry.
I can't get the stain off the plate I'm scrubbing... I cry. 
I finally get the stain off the plate... I cry. 

It's awesome guys. 

But, you want to know something that effects me the most?? 


I have like 80 every night I swear! And they are always the worse! Like the other night when I stayed up watching Dancing With The Stars only to have the dream that all the contestants climbed into an elevator, turned on laughing gas, got high, got too high, then died. 

How did I come up with that one? 

I told you they are the worse. 

Well... Last night was no exception. I'm getting chills just thinking about it. I had a dream that I woke up in the morning with long, thick, pokey, black, hairs growing out of the top of my nose. Every pour in my nose had one of these nasty hairs growing out of it. As soon as I went to the bathroom and saw the hairs, I flipped out. But come on, you can't blame me! Anyone would! So obviously, my first thought was that I needed to find a razor. This is where is gets awful. ALL my razors had DISAPPEARED. Completely. So what did my prego mind decide to do? Grab a POTATO PEELER. What. In. The. World. And to make it worse, in my dream I actually used this potato peeler to shave my nose. IT HURT SO BAD! I spent the whole morning (in my dream) shaving my nose with a potato peeler, only to watch the nasty hairs grow back over and over again... I was literally peeling my nose off out of frustration when I finally woke up.

The only thing I can really tell you girls (and guys I guess), is if you start growing nasty hairs out of the top of your nose... DO NOT USE A POTATO PEELER. Save yourself the pain, and suck it up enough to go to the store and buy yourself a razor. IT WILL BE WORTH IT. Besides, chances are, despite people looking at you, and the embarrassment, you will probably never have to see those people again, and you will not have a flayed nose.