Mary, Mary, quite contrary

I'm not sure I have ever heard my mother ordered around more in my life. It was quite amusing. "Get me the teddy bear. Unlock my car. Get my purse. Bring me some lemonade." It was a real hoot, especially since I was sitting in my chair doing pretty much nothing at the time. I could see the irritation on my mother's face and it was increasing with each demand being made.

If you have read my mother's blog, motherofbridebyjan.blogspot.com, you know exactly what I'm talking about. Mary is the elderly woman who came to the garage sale we had last weekend. She is the epitome of the old lady who is set in her ways. To me Mary was, at the least, hysterical and at the most, a nudge to look for a new job. While most everyone else stood around with their jaws hanging out at the absurdity of this eccentric woman bossing my mom around, I was thoroughly enjoying myself.

Mary and I talked for quite a long time. She told me her husband died so that probably made her a widow. I said she was probably right. I asked if her husband died recently or a while back. She said he died in 1991, or 92, or 93...she couldn't quite remember. We talked about their marriage for a few minutes before moving on to how she organizes (or DOESN'T organize) her finances.

Mary made me think back to my days when I volunteered at the convalescent home. I almost always enjoyed being there. I always left feeling like I had been given more than I gave. With my current job, I feel like I give and give and give and give and never ever ever get back. With no emotional supports at the school, it is a lonely and unfulfilling job with rewards that are only found after extensive looking and a really good attitude.

During a recent meeting at work, everyone listened to the book Who Moved My Cheese. It was administrations way of trying to assist us with all of the changes going on.

I have come to a few conclusions which will only make sense if you have also read Who Moved My Cheese.

My job moved my cheese.
It took me a while to figure out my professional cheese was gone because so many other aspects of my life where my cheese hadn't been moved were great. By the time I realized my professional cheese was missing, I was close to starving. Then Mary came along. Mary took a big hunk of yummy cheese and waved it under my nose. I have put my running shoes back on and have started my way into the maze again. I am ready to find my new cheese and I know it will be bigger and better than it was before.

Bossy or not, Mary made a different that day. Thank you, Mary.

Feline friends or foes?

We have two cats, Moses and Mijo, and we love them dearly. For now, they make great substitutes for children. They need to be fed, loved, and have their litter box cleaned daily. If they fail to receive any of the following, they become irritable, crabby, and will leave unnecessary surprises on our new to us carpet. Overall they are wonderful cats. They are lap cats and enjoy nothing more than sleeping on Chris' chest when he is lying on the couch. They would sleep at the foot of our bed if we let them which we don't because I'm allergic. What was thought to be a simple request from our allergist, "Don't let the cats in the bedroom!" had turned out to be a problem that is only becoming more difficult.

As I think I have mentioned before, I sleep like a rock. Nothing bothers me. Noise? Not a problem. Lights? Never an issue. Obnoxious meowing and pawing at the door at 2:30 in the morning? Don't even notice. What makes it a problem is that Chris does not sleep like a rock. He is a lighter sleeper than my mother which I didn't think was humanly possible.

Has anyone seen the commercial for the cell phone where the kids throw a party, one piece of confetti drops on the floor and the mom hears it on the other end, knows it was confetti, and says she is headed home to break up the party? That, my dear friends, is my husband.

Going back to the cats, the meows and pawing used to start around 7:00 in the morning. Other than weekends when we like to sleep in, this was never an issue. The 7:00 quickly became 6:00 which became 5:30 etc... Last night was a new low. I didn't realize it until I woke up and saw the large sheet of tin foil on the guest bedroom. Apparently Moses had been pawing at the door at 1:30 to be let in/fed. Chris had had it. He got up, got the tin foil, spread it across the entrance to our bedroom door, and went back to bed. Cats aren't supposed to like the noise of tin foil so it makes them go away. Our cats are no different. They too hate the sound. What is different is that our cats are smarter. They moved the tin foil. They must have picked it up in their teeth or pushed it with their paws but it was no longer where Chris had placed it.

I'm not sure what happened in the remaining wee hours of the morning but Chris said that if it happens again, the cats are going in a closet. Any ideas?

Before and after shots

Here are a few before and after pictures of a few places in our house. It doesn't look like the same house.

Random thoughts on life

For the record, my husband chose this picture to post. Not exactly my first choice but there will be more to come. For the most part, I painted all the trim in the house and Chris did the roller brush. I didn't take us long to determine which of us is better at certain tasks. After 40 hours of painting, I don't think I can muster the motivation to even write about it. Moving on...

We will have been in our house for two weeks as of tomorrow. We have done little else than work on the house and work at work. I think we were getting in a rut so we decided to go on a date. It was refreshing to get out of the house at someplace other than Lowes, work, or the grocery store and have a sit down meal that neither of us cooked and neither of us had to clean up. We rented a few movies for the cold and rainy evening and settled in to watch what turned out to be a Christmas movie and drink hot chocolate. It was very funny having a perfect cold winter's night in mid-May.

As the rain continues to come down, I feel that there is so much to be thankful for. Chris and I have been married for almost 6 months and it has been the best 6 months of my life. We live in a beautiful home. My dad was able to nail down a job. We have a new niece who is cute as a button. Our families are healthy and my parents are more amazing than imaginable. I am very blessed.

Here I sit in my new house while Chris puts up shelves in the great room. The cats are tearing around the place as if they have lived here all their lives. Granted that is a bit different than the meows that emitted from their mouths for the 24 hours they were closed in a room while we moved and while they adjusted to the new house. Those meows sounded like the cats were being endlessly tortured. It was awful and woke up Chris and my parents numerous times throughout the night. Not me. You could drop a brick on my head and it wouldn't wake me up. But I digress...

It has been a whirlwind of a week. Chris and I decided to take on the task of painting the entire house. We took last Monday and Tuesday off from work and finished with the paint at 10PM Tuesday evening. We spent the next few nights packing only to finish yesterday morning about 5 minutes before our first helpers arrived. The moving began at 9:00 in the morning and didn't end until 4:00 when the last box was carried into the house. My parents graciously offered their time and drove down to help us. My mother, bless her, stepped off the plane at 5AM from a week long conference in California. My dad picked her up and they drove straight to our townhouse and starting moving boxes and furniture.

It is now late Sunday and Chris and I took off this Monday so we could spend the time unpacking our loads of boxes that filled the 26 foot truck. I never realized how much junk we have. It is amazing how much stuff two people accumulate when they get married a bit later in life. We don't even want to consider how much more challenging things must be for couples with children!!

Chris has been hanging pictures and I have been organizing what I once thought was a big closet. I have an embarrassingly huge number of shoes that somehow had to fit. I did manage to add one pair to the garage sale pile that will take place in Wheaton, IL Memorial Day weekend.

The clothes have been tucked away as well as the sheets, towels, and kitchen utensils. All that is left are the contents from the "miscellaneous" boxes and all of the candles, picture frames, pictures, and little odds and ends that need to find the perfect home. Thankfully this is the fun part and since Chris and I have similar taste in decorating, it should be relatively easy. Our house is slowly becoming our home and we are enjoying every minute of it.

Southern Hospitality

Chris and I have spent 32 hours working on the painting project known as our house. We took up the ridiculously huge project thinking it wouldn't take half the time it has already taken. We have two days left since we took Monday and Tuesday off from work and we will probably need the better half of the time. Thankfully little angels, Wayne and Kim, have descended upon us and made our job that much easier.

We were in the middle of taping the great room when I thought about when my family moved into the house in Wheaton, IL 20+ years ago. As my parents were loading our boxes in the house, the Vandermolens arrived with cookies in hand to welcome us to the neighborhood. Their daughter and I became fast friends since we were the same age and our families have stayed friends ever since. I had the thought that it would be so nice if someone were to welcome Chris and me to the neighborhood. I quickly laughed off the thought since welcoming someone to the neighborhood happens about as often as someone walking over to borrow a cup of sugar.

Then it happened. Southern hospitality in Indiana.

Not ten minutes after thinking about neighbors, Wayne and Kim came into our lives. Kim is in her mid 40's and Wayne is in his early 60's. Their backyard faces our backyard. They walked over to welcome us to the neighborhood. They were very sweet and the next day, Kim dropped off brownies straight out from the oven. She said that brownies are needed to help sustain us as we worked on painting the house. She also said that we were invited to dinner at their house the next night and they were picking up chicken from KFC. The KFC dinner was tonight and they went over the top in making sure there was enough food. They also loaned us their bright lamps to make painting at night easier and offered to loan us movies from their huge collection to watch after we move in. They are amazingly generous.

Kim keeps asking if so and so from the neighborhood has introduced themselves to us yet. When we say no, she informs us that so and so should be stopping by anytime. Apparently we already have friends who know us via Wayne and Kim.

And so the Southern Hospitality in Indiana goes. Chris and I will continue to get to know Wayne and Kim and will undoubtedly invite them over for dinner or dessert. In the mean time, we will be curious to see who else we will have the chance to meet in this wonderfully friendly neighborhood of ours.

Packing

Packing. It is quite possibly one of the most detested activities in life for me. Trips are fun but anyone who knows me prepares for the endless amount of moaning and groaning that occurs from the time I think about having to pack until the task is complete.

It isn't that packing itself is difficult. It is my own personality quirks that make packing about as appealing as poking my eye out. I am a highly organized person. My mother loves it because when I come home I frequently organize things in her house that are driving me crazy.

When I arrive at my destination during a vacation, I am usually happy because I have exactly what I need. I don't overpack although occasionally I will underpack. I choose exactly what I am going to wear for each day and place it on my bed as if there were a person lying on my bed wearing the clothes, earrings, necklace, and shoes that sit on the floor as it they were filled with feet.

Now imagine what is is like beginning the process of packing the house... Chris and I try to do a little each day so we won't be overwhelmed once moving day arrives. Of course our differences are now showing their face.

I said we shouldn't seal any of the boxes. Chris packed up the kitchen and sealed the boxes. He also packed up almost all of the food. Aren't we supposed to live here for another week and a half? Where are the pot holders? Did you pack all of the spatulas? Chris ended up opening the boxes.

This morning we spent more time packing. Chris kept working on the kitchen and I was in the living room. I walked into the kitchen and saw all of his packed boxes that were unsealed. He walked into the living room and saw all of my packed boxes sealed. I thought we weren't sealing any boxes? Well...we weren't...but you sealed some. Yes, and I unsealed them. Oops. Broke my own rule. Thankfully he is forgiving.

And now we are off to figure out what color we want to paint the living room... This should be another bloggable (is that a word?) experience.

Food, folks, and fun

I am very lucky to be married to a man who not only enjoys to cook but is wonderful at it. He also enjoys entertaining which I am horrible at. I get all tense and nervous having people over mostly because I am NOT a wonderful cook. Chris and I have come up with the perfect solution. He cooks while I talk to our guests and pour everyone wine. Side note: We think we are wine enthusiasts but confess we poured the cheap stuff this weekend because good wine wasn't in the budget.

Anyhoo, Chris and I had Hannah and Scott over for dinner. I have known Hannah for a few years as we have done multiple modeling gigs together. If Hannah is with me, I know we are going to have a good time. Last night wasn't any different. Chris cooked sun dried tomato and goat cheese stuffed chicken along with cheese and sweet onion orzo pasta. Both were out of this world. Hannah brought chocolate cake from a bakery nearby and that too was delicious.

When dinner was over we sat around and played a board game Hannah and Scott had brought with them. Imaginif needed at least three players but required the names of eight people. We brainstormed and came up with the four additional names we needed for the game. George W. Bush, the Easter bunny aka: Bunny, Helen who is our modeling agent, and Jesus were all excellent choices. The game turned out to be funny and a wonderful argument starter between the couples as we had to guess what other people would say if put in a certain situation.

Example: Imaginif Torrey were a soup. Would she be chili, french onion, won ton, chicken noodle, and a few other options I don't recall at the moment.

Me: "You said I would be french onion? I hate french onion soup."
Chris, trying to recover: "But french onion sounds sophisticated."
Me, trying to sound irritated but really laughing: "French onion soup has that soggy bread with the dump of cheese hanging limply over the side. What are you trying to tell me?"

We had a wonderful time. And Chris learned I am NOT like french onion soup.

In the beginning...

For most engaged females, the first thing they do shortly after becoming engaged is create a website for themselves on theknot.com which has great tips and is a creative way to tell others about how you and your fiance met, got engaged, etc... What follows is a little bit of what was on our webpage.

ABOUT TORREY
I remember the day I met Torrey. She walked in the orientation for our graduate program. She was the most stunning woman I have ever seen. With that said, we talked only on a surface level for most of the summer and fall semester. When we had the opporutunity to talk on my birthday, really talk, and learn about how we shared so many of our passions, activites, and most importantly our values and beliefs, something happened that I have trouble putting into words. Torrey is an example of God's grace. Her love is something that I did, do and will not deserve, yet she still does. She is, without a doubt the most amazing woman I have ever met. I can honestly say that her beauty has nothing to do with how she looks. Her heart is tremendously big and her passion she has for her calling as a social worker is humbling. Her constant awareness of her journey with God and her understanding of how our relationship will not flourish if God is not there makes my heart smile. There is never a day that goes by where she doesn't amaze me. My love for her goes far beyond what can be encapsulated by emotions, it is engraved on my heart. I only pray that God will give me the strength to reciprocate the love she has and will continue to give so freely. Thanks everybody. :) I know I am not telling anyone who knows Torrey something you don't already know, and for those of you who haven't had the opportunity, I can't wait for you to get to know her. You will fall in love with her as easily as I have. I am absolutely a blessed man.

ABOUT CHRISTOPHER
I am having difficulty putting into words how I feel about Christopher and what he means to me. How can one describe virtual perfection? When people ask me about Chris, all I can say is that he may not be a perfect man, but he is the perfect man for me. We connect on so many different levels. We can laugh and be silly and a few minutes later, be involved in a serious discussion about what it means to be a Christian in this postmodern era. He challenges me intellectually and motivates me to be a better person. His personal losses in his life have only made him stronger, more compassionate, and more loving. He is a man after God's own heart and Chris continues to keep our relationship focused on where it truly needs to be: Jesus Christ. I love Chris more today than I did yesterday and I will probably love him more tomorrow than I do today. I can't wait to be his wife and to begin our journey together as Mr. and Mrs. Ray. I hope that his parents would have been proud of us and our decision to commit ourselves to one another for the rest of our lives. I only wish they were here to share in our joy. Christopher Andrew Ray is an answer to prayer. He couldn't have come at a better time and he couldn't possibily be more amazing than he is. I love him dearly and will continue to love him for as long as I live.

HOW WE MET
Christopher and I met in our graduate program for social work. We were friends but the kind that talk during break between classes where nothing of real substance is said. December 3rd, we ran into each other at the university. It happened to be his birthday so I invited him out and said I would buy him a drink. We ended up meeting that night and had our first "real" conversation. We connected first on a spiritual level and it only got better from there. We quickly fell in love and knew we were going to get married.

HOW WE GOT ENGAGED
Christopher took me out for dinner and the entire time, I was waiting for him to propose. When we got back to his place and he hadn't proposed, I decided it wasn't going happen and I forgot about it. We started talking and he said he wished he could afford to buy me an engagement ring. I told him that the ring wasn't important. I said all I wanted was to marry him and that he didn't need a ring to propose to me. With that, he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. I said yes and only then did he pull out the most beautiful ring in the entire world.

Welcome to just a little bit more about Chris and Torrey.

From a child's perspective

One of the kids I work with is not only cute, but very challenging. He has a tough home life and it is reflected in his behavior at school. He will have to repeat the first grade because he reads and writes at a kindergarten level. It isn't that he has a learning disability or is dumb. In fact, verbally, he is beyond a first grade level. The problem lies in his behavior which has been so awful that he has missed tons of school. I now spend each morning helping him start his day off right and have managed to build a good relationship with him.

During our last session, he was being very difficult which, sadly, is not unlike him. He was finally able to verbalize that he missed his teacher and was feeling sad about it. (His teacher was the one I previously mentioned who took a few months off due to stress.) I helped him write a letter to her and he said he also wanted to draw her a picture. He said he wanted to draw a church since that is where his teacher and I see each other. He proceeded to draw a seven year old non church goers version of a church.

He drew what looked like a tepee. He drew Jesus hanging on a cross and tested multiple crayons before he decided which was the right "red" for the blood. The more he drew, the more excited he became. The church was topped off with lights, a light switch, speakers, stairs, excessive amounts of snow, and of course Santa Claus in his sleigh with reindeer and bags of toys for children. The picture is precious and I'm sad to part with it. For a kiddo who has only been to church once with his grandpa, it was quite the drawing.

I brought the letter home and showed Chris. He loved it. I can't wait to give it to the teacher. I know she will be touched.

Fried, cooked, charred, or just plain burned out

When the substitute teacher walks out and says he is never coming back to the school, you know. When a presenter from L.A. stops in the middle of the all school assembly to say he has never been disrespected by an audience like this before, you know. When a wonderful teacher has to take a leave of absence because she is grinding her teeth at night due to stress from her first grade class, you know. When the new kid you are supposed to add to your caseload gets arrested his second day of school, you know. When you haven't had a day off for 3 1/2 months, you know. You know it is time for the mental health therapist to take a mental health day when the thought of talking to another parent or another child makes you want to crawl in a deep, dark hole. So here I am at 10:40 a.m. on St. Patrick's Day. I'm sitting on my couch blogging instead of providing services to the kids who are about to put me over the edge. My cat is sitting next to me licking out the remains of my banana bread from the tupperware it was in. My other cat is taking part in an activity known as sleeping and I'm about 5 minutes away from joining him. However do I think I will opt for the bed instead of the floor. Let the 3 day weekend away from work begin!

The Dumpling 

Whirlpool and all

We did it! After much pain and agony, we have chosen a house. We have put an offer down on the house. We have haggled with the seller of the house. We have signed the papers for the house. And we have declared the house to be cute. Adorable actually. MOB is referring to it as a dumpling due to its cuteness, adorableness, smallness, and her need to give everything a name. Chris and I are just plain excited.

The house is a wee bit smaller than the townhouse we are living in now but the difference is that it is OURS!! No more dumping stupidly large amounts of money into rent. The house that will be ours on April 20th is a three bedroom, two bath...three if you prefer bathing in the whirlpool that is sitting on the huge deck out back. The kitchen is large and we have a wood burning fireplace. Those were our two big essentials. I also wanted a large walk in closet but my definition of large and other people's definition of large is completely different. Thankfully the master bedroom closet is MY definition of a large walk in closet.

The only downside to the dumpling is that the living/dining/family room isn't all that big. The current owners have one couch and one big chair along with a small dining room table. Chris and I have two couches, no chair, and a slightly larger dining room table. One of our couches is a recent purchase since previous to that, only two people could sit in the living room at a time. Needless to say we were really excited when we found a wonderfully comfortable and inexpensive couch so that at least 5 people could be gathered together without anyone having to sit on the floor.

One tiny problem...

Am I the only one who has noticed that furniture looks SIGNIFICANTLY smaller in the showroom than it does once is arrives in your house? I practically passed out when it was delivered. We have no idea how we are going to manage both couches in our new living room and we can't afford to make another purchase such as a chair so we would have the option of putting the couch in another room...the kitchen maybe so I could be comfortable when I watch Chris cook dinner. :)

Seriously though, we aren't sure what we are going to do. We are minimalists so we don't like a lot of "stuff." Collections aren't our thing. Nik-naks aren't our thing. Less is more is our thing. So how we are going to manage our more than more two couches is going to be quite the feat. Thankfully, we are up for it. We can't hardly wait to move into our new house...or dumpling if you will.

Life with social workers

I’m a social worker. So is my husband. We graduated with the same degree in undergrad and graduate school yet we have vastly different jobs. Chris works for the VA and deals with homeless veterans with addiction and mental health issues. I work on the other side of the spectrum and am employed by a mental health agency but my office is in an elementary school. I have my own caseload of kids I am required to assess, diagnose if appropriate, and provide services.

So how does this marriage of social workers play out after a hard day of social work work? Typically one of us...or just me...vents about the day and the frustrations of not having "Brat, Pain in the Butt, Liar, Bully, and a variety of other than less than complimentary but sadly accurate descriptions listed in the Diagnostic Handbook. Instead, I am stuck with ADHD, Oppositional Defiant Disorder, Anxiety, Depression, etc... How limiting!!!

And on the treatment plan I am required to create, I find it a bit binding to not be allowed to give certain thick skulled kids a swift kick in the pants on a weekly (or daily) basis. It might really help a few of these youngsters. Instead I am required to actually talk to them.

Don’t get me wrong. I absolutely love my job. It does have its challenging days and that is where Chris comes in. He understands my need to be un-politically correct for a few minutes. He gets it when I need to make less than sensitive comments since I have spent the last nine hours being sensitive to everyone I come into contact with. This is just a tiny bit of my husband that I couldn’t live without. If I didn’t have it, I am not sure I could be nearly as effective a social worker I like to think I am for the kids. Hopefully I provide the same sort of support for him in his times of un-PCness because when we need to vent, it is like the saying, when it rains, it pours…and boy can it pour in our house.

Listening skills...lost but not forgotten?

When did listening become something of the past? It seems that whenever I talk to what I assume (my mistake) is a professional, that I need to repeat myself over and over and over and over and over and…you get the picture.

For example, I recently spoke to an insurance agent who mispronounced my name. It was my maiden name for which no one can seem to pronounce. It isn’t a difficult name…Barger. That is said with a soft “g,” not a hard “g.” For sake of understanding, I will write what is the correct pronunciation as “Barjer.” What follows is my conversation with the listening impaired agent:

“Well Miss Barger I have reviewed your claim and I see you sustained some damage from the accident.”
“That is Miss Barjer and yes, I did sustain damage.”
“Oh, I apologize Miss Barjer. Would you mind taking a recorded statement?”
“Not at all.”
“Ok, it is 2:15pm and this is a recorded statement from Miss Barger. Hello Miss Barger.”
“That is Miss Barjer.”
“Oh, ok Miss Barjer…

Five minutes later…

“Thank you Miss Barger for taking the time to answer my questions.”
“That is Miss Barjer and your welcome.”

Did he not hear me the first two times I corrected him? Was there a memory loss within the 10 seconds it took to screw my name up twice? At least I was able to assist him in looking stupid on the recorded statement, not that he needed much help from me.

And then there was the lady from the promotion agency. I called to get confirmation for a promo job I am planning on doing tomorrow. I called, gave my name, and explained what I needed. She responds, “I don’t think we have any more openings tomorrow for auditions.”
“I don’t need an audition. I need to know if I am confirmed for a promotion I was called about for tomorrow.”
“Well I haven’t called the hotline yet but I’m sure we have a few more spots for an audition. Wait, are you already a client?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that. Sorry. So you need to know about when the next set of auditions are?”
”No. I need to talk to someone about the promotion tomorrow. Someone from your agency called me about a promotion for SoBe.”
“SoBe like the drink?”
“Ah, yeah. Like the drink. Is Rudy (the boss) around?”
“Noooo. It’s his day off. So this is for SoBe? Wait! Is this the promotion for SoBe? I know about that. When is it?
“Tomorrow!”
“That’s the third time you have said that isn’t it.”
“Ah, yeah.” Etc…

Who decided all of the smart people were no longer going to talk on the phone and reserved those jobs for complete morons? It isn’t terribly difficult to listen. It requires closing your mouth and opening your ears. Granted there are classes in active listening skills so something must be difficult but I’m not asking for active listening. I just want the basics. Is that too much to ask? Apparently so…

Reality Check

Home buying. Quite the daunting task for those who have never owned their own home. Thankfully, Chris and I have a good realtor and we think we have done our homework. After going house hunting first time last week and then taking a closer look at our budget Sunday night, we have had to re-evaluate what we can realistically afford. What started out as fun has become stressful and frustrating. How can we get what we want and still feed ourselves?? It isn’t like we have overly high expectations. He wants a fireplace and a decent kitchen where he can cook. (Yes, he does the cooking. More on that in another blog.) I want a garage for both of our cars and I don’t want to feel as though I am living in a box. So we ended the weekend with dashed hopes and begin to wonder how anyone can afford a house.

Reality check! That came Monday afternoon when I went to work and visited one of the kids I counsel. (I’m a therapist…aka: social worker, poor but happy.) I started talking to the child’s mom who is a single parent with three kids. She works very hard at her job at Wal-Mart but is in very poor health. But boy is she a firecracker.

I work at an elementary school in what is unofficially the inner-city. Roughly 95% of the kids at the school have free or reduced lunches and 99% of them live in bad neighborhoods. This mom lives in a beautiful neighborhood as the city recently renovated that area. Most of the old houses were torn down, the gang members were kicked out, and the crack houses were boarded up. Now the neighborhood boasts of beautiful houses with professionally landscaped yards. Most of the neighbors are new as well…most, but not all.

This mom I am working with is one of those neighbors who has lived in the same house for 10 years. She shared with me that changes are being made to the renovated neighborhood and that people who rent are no longer welcome. Apparently renters carry a certain stigma about them…poor, uneducated, dirty, and unable to maintain a nice looking house both inside and out. This mom may be poor and uneducated but her house is immaculate both inside and out.

She explained that her landlord is being bought out and the plan is to increase her rent so she can no longer afford to live there, thereby forcing her to relocate. She was upset as she talked about how she lived through the bad times where the gang members would egg her house because she wouldn’t let them park in her lawn, where she had to kick dope dealers off of her porch, and where she had to literally hit the floor when there were drive by shootings. Now that things have smoothed out, she is no longer welcome and although she is going to neighborhood meetings to advocate for herself, the future for her is bleak.

I came home from work yesterday with a different approach to house hunting. We may not have a lot of money to work with but we do have hope, we have options, and most of all, we have the ability to advocates for ourselves and we know people will listen. It is a time to count our blessings and move forward with humility, thanking God for what we have been given for so many others have been given less.

Lucky Lady

For Chris and his cohorts, it was called Operation V Day. For me, it was the holiday I detest more than any other. Valentine’s Day is equally as disgusting as Sweetest Day. Both are designed for couples to spend ridiculous amounts of money on each other and for single folks to feel absolutely rotten about themselves. I have spent far too many of these holidays on the latter end…although I do recall actually breaking up with a few gentlemen on that oh so special February 14th occasion thereby making myself part of the single crowd.

Every since last year, Valentine’s Day has had a slightly different meaning for me. Valentine’s Day 2005 was the day I started dating Chris and realized that he was the man I was going to marry. I even recall calling my mom the next day and telling her just that.

On this special day, Chris and I had decided not to do anything for one another as I had already gotten him a small gift the week prior and he had made me dinner over the weekend. The short of it: Chris changed his mind. The long of it: You are going to love this…

I walked out to my car and inside was a single red rose, a Hallmark card, and a digital recorder. I listened to the recorder and he explained why this day was special to him and that I was starting a scavenger hunt. I had to listen to each clue one by one and guess where I was supposed to go. The first clue led me to the Build-A-Bear store where Chris had prepared a Chicago Bears bear for me. (I’m a die-hard fan.) The girls at the counter couldn’t get over how much fun Chris was to work with and how excited they were with what he had planned for the evening as they had begged him to share what his other clues were.

In the next clue, I was informed to lower my visor and a coupon for a free car wash fell out. To truly understand how much I appreciated this, you need to realize that when I was recently in a car accident and was asked by my insurance company the color of my vehicle, I promptly replied, “It is the color of mud.” Sad but true. Now it is sparkly brown. :)

Next I was told to go to our favorite jewelry store. Mind you that it isn’t our favorite because of their beautiful jewelry but for their scrumptious, soft, and absolutely delicious cookies. I was told to go in and ask for someone who knew me. Not knowing anyone who might know me, I found three employees and explained what I needed. They all laughed, called to other employees, and I soon found a crowd of company employees around saying that I had finally arrived. Apparently Chris had made quite the impression here as well. They handed me a company bag with a red bow on top. I opened it and inside was a handful of their cookies wrapped in plastic wrap with a bow around it. It was creative, adorable, and had everyone laughing.

I drove home and there was Chris with my favorite meal from our favorite Chinese take out place. After eating, giving him what now looked to be quite the pathetic Valentine’s Day card I made from construction paper, we were about ready to turn in for bed. As what seemed to be an after thought, Chris pulled the drawer of the coffee table out and handed me a box from the jewelry store I had previously visited. Inside was an absolutely beautiful necklace with diamonds and a ruby, my birthstone.

Chris out did him self. He is quite possibly the most thoughtful, creative, and loving individual I have ever met. And somehow I have the privilege to be his wife.

He also made me look like an absolute schmo in the process but I will take it. Paybacks will be fun! I can’t wait to get started…

Surprises

Everyone knows that it is common for a couple to be given more than one of the same wedding gift. Some couples receive multiple crock pots. Others, like my friends Michelle and Brad, receive multiple unregistered items with their names and wedding date on it thereby making it unreturnable...which is quite possibly one of the gravest sins known to man. Chris and I were given, between actual books, books on cd, and lectures on cd, around 12 books/cd's of marital advice. Don't get me wrong. I think that everyone could use marital advice, some couples more than others. However, I also think that we have received more than our fair share.

I am in the middle of one of the books we received and many pages have been devoted to the topic of expressing love in the form of extra touches. I thought this was a relatively big no brainer because the "extra touches" are something Chris and I excel at doing. Today is a great example. Chris signed up to participate in a research study to help bring in a few extra dollars for us. This meant that he was going to be gone all day today and tomorrow. I decided I was going to surprise him and make an elaborate dinner and dessert for when he arrived home. I had just finished going through our recipes and picking out what I was going to surprise him with when he called and said he was sick to death of the study and was coming home. He then told me that he and my girlfriends' husbands had been planning on surprising all of us tonight by sending us to a salon and making us dinner. For a multitude of reasons, the scheduling made it impossible to keep it a surprise so he had to tell me. I am not the least disappointed he did as it saved me a trip to the grocery store.

What I appreciate is knowing that both of us were planning on going out of our way to express our love for the other. It is slightly humorous that we were both going to surprise each other with dinner on the same night. Great minds think alike.

Needless to say that not only do I feel very blessed to be in a relationship where we both recognize the importance of the "extra touches," but I also don't feel much of a need to make it through the other 11 books/cd's on marital advice. For the moment, I think we are doing just fine.

Weighty issues

Everyone knows about the college freshman fifteen. Not as well publicized is the Master’s make-you-lose-twenty-pounds-because-you-are-so-stressed-out. Sadly, Chris and I have been well informed about the weight gain that will surely come with marriage. From what I have heard, no one really lets you know you are gaining weight. It becomes one of those whispers between other women who comment about how matronly you are becoming. “Gee, she must really be enjoying married life but it seems to be catching up.” Come on now. Be honest and have the decency to say to my face, “Gee Torrey, you really seem to be packing on the pounds since you got hitched.”

It isn’t that I am eating that much more. It is more about the gym factor. What is it about married life that makes the gym so unappealing? I used to love (take the word love with a grain of salt) going to the gym. It was incredible emotional therapy. Shedding the calories so I could have my chocolate wasn’t bad either. Now it seems that the gym is my personal torture chamber. Chris knows me well enough to drag me there because he knows I will beat myself up if I don’t go at least a few times during the week. Even with him there it is still horrible. I try to get excited. Favorite magazine? Check. I-Pod? Check. Cool looking water bottle with the sticker from when Chris and I went white water rafting? Check. Although I don’t think I have cleaned it for a while so it smells a bit like feet. I am fully armed with toys in hand and shoes on my feet. I get to the base of the treadmill and all I can think about is how I would rather chew my arm off than get on and start running. And yet I do. I run and I run and I try to think about how much better I will feel when I am finished.

Well, I finished. I did it. I went running. Workout for tonight? Check! And somehow all I can think about is how I would still rather chew my arm off than go running again tomorrow. Post wedding pounds? Bring them on!

"You may now kiss the bride."