I should have divorced my husband a long time ago.

Sunday, August 24, 2014
I should have divorced my husband a long time ago.

The odds were never in my favor really. I am a high risk case for early divorce, and bad marital satisfaction.

The moment I said "I do" at the age of 19 I was asking for it. I read I should wait until I was 25 if I wanted this love of mine to last. Well I didn't, I shaved 6 years off 25 without a second thought because I was in love. I was pretty much doomed the moment I put that wedding dress on my teenage body.

Neither of us had much money. He spent what he had on a ring, and all I owned went towards an old car to help us get around. We were pretty much broke before we even started our life together. I heard that will cause you to fail pretty fast too.

We didn't attend any premarital classes like the therapists would recommend, we just dove into this thing head on. We heard it was hard but we were not worried because we were crazy about each other.

We married 6 months after meeting. This is what some experts would call "marriage suicide." Because there is no way you can know someone well enough to commit your life to them in a year... let alone 6 months.

9/10 of the things statistics would say will raise, double, triple... or pretty much ensure your chances of divorce... we did.

Technically our divorce papers should have been signed *at least* a year ago.

I should have divorced my husband a long time ago.

I'm serious.

I really should have.

I could come up with a pretty good list of reasons why, and honestly, I don't think anyone would blame me. Most would see me as just another percentage point on the divorce statistical board.

I think its fair to say I was slightly naive when I got married. Naive in the sense that I thought since I had found the right person, someone that I got along with, and who made me laugh, that marriage would be easy... Even when it was hard. Meaning that if we ever struggled the struggle would be easy to combat and we would tackle it together and be happy because when you are in love, everything is easy.

I was wrong.

Being in love does not automatically make things easy.

Just because you tied the knot does not ensure you will be happy all the time.

Having someone love you does not mean you will be treated like gold all the time.

The person you love can hurt you pretty bad at times, in ways you didn't expect, and they did not necessarily intend.

Because the fact is that marriage is as much (if not more) of a roller coaster as dating.

It is tough.

I never expected to be faced with many of the trials, pain and heartache I have been faced with.

I never expected that sometimes I would cry myself to sleep.

I never expected that love would push me to my very limits sometimes.

I never expected to go through things that I truly didn't deserve.

But all these things have happened. Sometimes more than once, because guess what?

He makes mistakes.

Lots of them.

But so do I.

The truth is, neither of us is perfect. We are both pretty far from perfect and our relationship is still growing. It is a process, and it always will be a process.

Happily ever after isn't instantaneous.

Its something that takes time, effort and endless work and dedication.

But it does happen.

I should have divorced my husband a long time ago, but I didn't. It's a good thing because I have grown so much more than I ever thought was possible.

WE have grown.

Both of us.

And we are better for it.

If I threw in the towel the moment we hit our first bump in the road I would have missed out on all the beauty and hope we have experienced together.

If I quit when it got hard and I felt like I deserved so much more, I would never have learned how much I truly did have, the love you don't get until you learn to love someone for all their strengths and for their weaknesses as well.

If I opted out when I was hurt, I would have not learned how wonderful it is to forgive, and then have the favor returned to me when I fell short of what he deserved.

If I let myself believe that it wasn't a good marriage unless it was perfect, I would have never developed the gift of finding perfect satisfaction in my relationship despite all my reasons to not be satisfied.

I have learned that a happy marriage is made up of two imperfect people who realize that despite their struggles and mistakes, they are perfect for each other.

When we hit 50 years I have no doubt that we will be in more love than ever despite all the grief we have put each other through, the trials we have endured, the pain we have dealt each other, and all the countless reasons that we really should not have made it so long.

True love defies all the odds and then some. I am learning that a little more each day. I will continue to learn it in the future. And the truth is, I look forward to learning it over and over again with the imperfectly wonderful man who I "should" have divorced a long time ago... that I am forever and eternally glad I didn't.

Winner Winner Chicken Dinner... Oh Wait.

Friday, August 15, 2014
So last night was fun.

This is going to sound pretty strange to some, but I have a very real fear of raw chicken. It is probably more of a paranoia. I am down right TERRIFIED of raw chicken. When I cook it, I have to use a knife and fork to remove it from its package, straight into the boiling water, or frying pan. Then I use plastic grocery bags to pick up the slime covered packaging when I throw it away. It is ridiculous, I know. But, I can't help it. I really can't. 

Yesterday I removed a large package of chicken breasts from the freezer so I could use it later. The package was too big to defrost in the microwave, so I put it on the kitchen counter so it would thaw throughout the day. 

That was that. I didn't really think about it again... 

Till 11:00 freaking p.m. when I was sitting in bed about to go to sleep! 


I ran out to the kitchen to put the now thawed chicken in the fridge. When I picked it up, I was alarmed to find that it was completely wet. When the ice had thawed it left water all over the counter and plastic packaging.


But at least it was water right? I could handle water. I started walking over to the fridge. I put the chicken in my other hand so I could open the fridge when I felt a cold goop slide down my fingers. I stopped mid step and froze. 

It took me about 5 minutes to muster up the courage to look at my hand. 

I finally looked down. Pink... sticky... gooey... nasty... gross... germ filled... chicken breast juice covered my fingers. 

Then I saw the floor. 

I had left a thick trail of juice from the counter to the fridge. 

The fact that it was on my fingers was bad enough, but covering my KITCHEN! I walked on this floor every day, my daughter CRAWLED all over this floor, I cooked on the counter, I practically spend half my day in this room! WHY OH WHY OH WHY!!

I composed myself and began the long and heart wrenching process of cleaning up the toxic slime. I put the dripping package of chicken in a garbage bag so it couldn't drip anymore and put it in the fridge to deal with in the morning. Then I wiped up all the nasty juice with paper towels. It took me a whole roll to clean it up if that gives you any idea of how much juice was in my kitchen. I then washed my hands 3 times and sprayed all the affected areas with bleach... then I used another roll of paper towels to wipe that up. I then washed my hands another 3 times. 

It was 12:30 am by now. 

Feeling like I was covered in bacteria, I stood in the kitchen and contemplated life. 

I was still alive, I was not showing signs of acute salmonella, I was breathing, and the kitchen looked pretty clean. 

"I think I will survive this," I thought to myself. 

When I woke this morning I cleaned the whole kitchen again, and mopped the floor with bleach again, and I am feeling pretty safe finally. 

Oh sweet paranoia, what would we do without it. 

For some people its spiders. For me, its raw chicken. 

Making Our House A Home

Saturday, August 9, 2014
I have been working on decorating our new home. It is a lot harder to decorate while taking care of a baby than I originally anticipated. I wish I could say I feel like I have finally made this house my home, but there are still pictures to be hung, books to unpack, and clothes to sort.

Lately my typical decorating thought process goes something like this:

I look at a room.

"Hmm... I don't like the couch there... I should move it.

"It looks really heavy. Where is Ash when I need him?"

"I bet I am strong enough!"

I put Harper down with some toys and I try to move the couch.

"Okay this is heavier than I thought."

I put my back against the arm of the couch.


"My face is on fire. I am going to pass out."

"Why did I do this?"

"Why oh why did I do this."

"I really rather not do this!"

"I must finish what I started"

More grunting.

I create a beat in my head.

"You can do it! You can do it! If you put your back into it!"

My music tune fades as I pause.

"That was a really lame song."



One final push.

"I did it!"

I rearrange the tables/lamps/bookshelves/etc. Then I look at the room again.


"Do I even like how this looks?"

It looked better before"

"Why exactly did I move the couch again?"

As I ponder, I feel little hands on my calves.

"Hi Harper!" I say.

"Dadadadada!" She says as she looks at me.

"When will she learn to say my name!"

"Say mama!" I say.



I pick up my daddy obsessed offspring and look at the room again.

"I'm too tired to move the couch again. This will do for now."

"Oh well... At least it was good exercise."

I move to the next room and repeat.

Well I don't repeat that exactly... it just feels like it sometimes!

The good news is I worked on Harpers "big girl" room over the weekend and I finished it! (Besides  a few pictures of her I have to print and hang, and her personalized name wall decor).

Me and the hubby both agree that her room feels like home. "I feel good when I'm in there," Ash told me. Ditto Ash, Ditto.

So I have one room down and 1...2...3..4ish to go!

It might be a slow process but I'm one room closer to making this little starter home of ours quite comfy!

Harpers Room

Dear Daughter: I was a bad mom today.

Saturday, August 2, 2014
Dear Daughter,

You were picture perfect this morning. I woke up and saw you laying there, your chubby cheeks looked extra chubby, your little mouth with its full pink lips seemed especially kissable, and those long dark eyelashes lay gently on your lower eyelids, covering those big blue captivating eyes of yours. While you dreamed, I watched my picture perfect baby, in a moment that I could never revisit unless I captured it, but I was a bad mom and I didn't take a picture.

I didn't take a picture... nope, not even one. So, unlike me, you'll never see yourself the way I did on Aug 2nd, 2014. Unlike me, you'll never know just how long your eyelashes looked, or how rosy those scrumptious cheeks were in the early morning light.

When you grow up, I will not be able to show you how many people liked your photo on Instagram, or how many commented on the image of a sleeping angel they saw on Facebook, because there wasn't one. I didn't post a thing, because there was nothing to post.

Instead I just sat there and watched you sleep. I looked at each perfect little feature on your perfect little body. I watched your little tummy rise and fall with each breathe you breathed. I watched your eyes dance under their lids as you dreamed dreams I will never hear about, but that I can only imagine were as beautiful as you.

Did you know you smile in your sleep? Those full pink lips dimple your cheeks suddenly with each sleeping grin and I can't help but smile back. I wonder what made you smile, did you dream of me? Or of your daddy? I bet you were dreaming of milk. You sure love your milk, so I wouldn't be surprised if it is what occupies your dreams. I hope you love me and daddy more than milk though...sometimes I wonder.

You looked so soft and gentle in that moment. Last night you were a bundle of energy, a BIG bundle of energy, you wore me out! All you wanted to do was crawl, and play with toys and eat cheerios and climb all over me. But this morning, you just looked soft, like a soft, perfect, cherub princess.

You are gorgeous Harper. I know you grew in my belly, but there is no doubt in my mind that you were designed by God. Only he could make something so intricately perfect, I really had very little to do with it.

I should have taken a picture of you, I really should have. Then everyone could enjoy seeing you the way I saw you. But I decided to be selfish today and keep that moment all to myself. I hope one day you will forgive me. I know one day you will understand. Because there are some moments that are too remarkable--too divine even--too be captured by earthly technology. Some moments can only fully be captured by the soul. You sleeping in all your innocence was one of those moments.

So please don't be upset when you get bigger and I tell you how special today was too me but that I have no picture to give you; no way of showing you what I saw. Please please don't be angry. I know it probably won't make sense to you how I could love how you looked so much, but not lock that image in time.

Harper, I will never regret not taking a picture. A picture is priceless, but my moment with you this morning, uninterrupted by getting the right angle or finding the right lighting, was even more priceless. It is now more than some fleeting image that will fade with time. Now it is a vibrant, undying memory etched in my heart and will stay with me forever.

So my sweet daughter, if I ever am a "bad mom" in the future and neglect to get that perfect picture of you opening your birthday present. Or I forget to capture you trying your first sour lemon or ice cream cone. If I somehow forget to film your first steps or the way your hair blows in the wind as you ride your bike with two wheels for the first time. If for some reason there are pictures missing from your scrapbook that according to the "perfect mothers scrap-booking guide" should be there, please know that they are not there because I was there; there with you fully and completely, taking in every single moment with you, and not just behind a camera screen.

Please remember that I was taking each and every one of those pictures with my heart.

Love Forever & Ever,

Your Mommy