The time has come...

After a year of pooping on the floor, peeing on the carpet, and loads of kitty litter, Chris and I are ready. Commence kitty potty training.

I'll keep you posted...

A different sort of Christmas

For the first time in 25 years I was not in Chicago for the holidays. Chris and I decided to take turns spending Christmas with our families and this year was his turn where the plan was to go to his sister's house who lives in Indianapolis. His other sister who lives in OH was already going to be there with her husband and daughter. We spent Christmas Eve hanging out, playing darts, and eating. Both of his sisters are incredible cooks and they made a fajita bar. It was delicious.

Chris and I left to get ready for church since the entire family was going to meet up and attend the Christmas Eve service at our church. We arrived at the church 20 minutes early so we could find good seats for everyone. We were really surprised to find so many cars already there. We were even more surprised to discover church had started 45 minutes ago. This isn't the first time this has happened to us. We have a history of receiving bad or delayed information regarding our church services and since we frequently spend our weekends in Chicago, we miss announcements that are made about service times. Chris and I sat in for the final ten minutes of the service. We sang one song but I was so disappointed I couldn't even sing.

We decided to go to my old church and attend their Christmas Eve service. I was determined to hear one good sermon and since more than one Christmas carol. The problem was that we had an hour to kill. We decided to go to Starbucks only to discover it was closed. We opted for TGI Fridays to get a cup of coffee with Bailey's Irish Cream. We sat down and the place smelled of stale ciggarrette smoke and old greasy food. It was absoutely disgusting. We were sitting there for almost ten minutes before anyone acknowledged our presence. The drinks were good but the service was terrible. Thankfully this was the low of the evening.

The church service was good and when it was over we went home, popped pop corn, and watched the black and white version of Miracle on 34th Street. The evening was rescued!

Then came Christmas morning.

I woke up and started feeling queasy about thirty minutes later. I spent the rest of the morning on the couch before telling Chris I needed to go home. Chris drove me home and was wonderful spending a few hours with me before I encouraged him to go back to his sister's for dinner. The rest of Christmas has been spent making the difficult decision of which end to put on the potty. It has been a rough happy holiday for me. I'm hoping it is a 24 hour bug and I will be feeling like new tomorrow morning.

Merry Christmas!

Happy birthday and 1 year anniverary

December 3rd was Chris' birthday and our one year anniversary. I can't believe it has been one year!!! Too late to change the title to this blog. It will have to stay. Maybe I should have made it Years of the MC. Anyhoo, this is a brief account of our weekend together:

To celebrate Chris' birthday and our first year anniversary, we joined friends in Chicago for a fun filled weekend. Chris and I drove up Friday after work and went to Second City which is an improv club in Old Town. It is famous for being the club where many Saturday Night Live comedians got their start. I was there many years ago with my sister and brother in law and it was just as funny as I remembered it. Chris laughed uncontrollably which made it all the funnier. We are still mimicking some of the better lines given during the night.

The next morning we laughed when we realized the one of the sets of friends we were meeting up with was directly across the hall from us in the hotel. The four of us hit the magnificant mile for shopping, people watching, and enjoying the Christmas lights. I was able to show off the Marshall Field/Macy's Christmas windows to Chris who has never been downtown during the holidays.

As the sun was going down, I insisted we go to the Signature Lounge on the 96th floor of the John Hancock building. Joe, one of the friends we were with, found $40 on the ground in Crate and Barrel so we treated ourselves to a cocktail.





After returning to the hotel from our shopping excursion, we linked up with another couple from Indianapolis who drove up for the occasion along with a third couple who were friends with Jeff and Joe and live in Chicago. We walked to a friend of mine's apartment to begin the evening. This is a picture of the guys as we headed out of the hotel. It was freezing cold and we all laughed when we realized they were all wearing their manly earmuffs.



Here is Chris cheesing it to the camera with Joe who decided to try on Hannah's fluffy hat.



Gary, my friend and hairstylist whose apartment we went to, has a friend who is well connected in the city. With two hours notice, she was able to get the ten of us a reservation to an incredible Italian restaurant. The food was amazing, the service was excellent, and bottles of wine were abundant. Gary, who is from Italy and has only lived in the states for a few years, ordered the appetizers and the wine. We let him run the show. I think when all was done as said, we had sung Chris happy birthday two or three times. He was given a shirt from the restaurant with a picture of a gigantic mouse on the front and back, a wine cork which we all signed, and a b-day card from me which had the game hangman on the inside. It became a table wide game and everyone pitched in to help him figure out his birthday gift...a subscription to Cooking Light and a date to a movie.





The night took us to a few other places downtown Chicago before we turned in for the evening and drove back home the next morning. Chris decided the weekend was one of his favorite weekends of the year. Gary decided we should do this every year. I decided Chicago is one of the best cities on earth.

Happy Birthday and Happy Anniverary. May this coming year be as wonderful as the last.

Cats

And we thought our cats had problems...

http://www.glumbert.com/media/cattoilet

Photos

It has taken 356 days for Chris and me to print off the pictures saved on our digital camera...beginning with photos from our honeymoon. Sad but true. We have always had great intentions but the number of pictures stored on the camera continued to grow as our albums continued to sit empty. Tonight I spent time filling the albums while Chris put a few pictures in empty frames that have been hanging on our walls. We are excited to announce our camera is finally empty and our frames are now filled with faces we recognize. Yahoo!

The man store

Also known as Lowes. And it is a wonderful store for Christmas shopping for my husband. It is even better when my husband gives me a list of Christmas gifts that he wrote word for word off of the man store website. He makes my life so easy!! Thank you Christopher. And because you have been such a good boy, Mrs Santa just may get you what you want this year. :)

Apple picking

Chris and I went apple picking this fall. After pulling a few choice apples off of the trees, we enjoyed some of the apples. The apples were so good we returned the following week to get more apples and we brought a few friends along with us.

Food diary

My mom and I have started to keep one another accountable for the food we consume. We tried it before but gave up after about two weeks. It is helpful because I know I will have to tell her what I eat and also because it is a great way to stay connected.

I just finished e-mailing my mom and before I hit send, I read to Chris what I had written because...well, because I was sort of proud. Self control isn't my strong suit. In fact, it is probably what I struggle with the most. But tonight, I was successful. No overeating. This is what I was thinking about when I read my food list to Chris. Apparently it wasn't what he was thinking about. His comment to my list: "Not exactly a prime example of the food pyramid." I couldn't help but laugh as I reviewed what I had eaten before the world wide web whisked away my e-mail to Chicago for my mom to read.

Breakfast: oatmeal (Pretty good start I would say. Heart healthy.)
Snack: almonds, cashews, cranberries (Lots of good protein in those almonds.)
Lunch: worked through lunch (Those darn mentally ill children always having a crisis at lunch time.)
Snack: jello with apple sauce (Sugar free jello, unsweetened applesauce. Very tasty. Will give recipe if interested)
Snack: peanuts with a few candy corn (Tastes like a candy bar and not too unhealthy if eaten in small amounts.)
Dinner: heart healthy pancakes with no butter and sugar free syrup (Chris makes the best pancakes.)
Snack: 90 calorie granola bar (I had oatmeal raisin so I worked in more fruit for the day.)
Dessert: 300 calorie white chocolate hot cocoa
small slice of chocolate cake (No redeeming qualities in my dessert other than portion control.)

Admittedly my list wouldn't win any awards from FDA but it is a small victory in terms of self control. I wonder how my mom did...?

Time off

For the first time in history, I have taken time off of work for no reason. I am not traveling home to Chicago. I am not attending a wedding for extended family out of town and it isn't a holiday. For once, I am taking time off just for me. I realized this last night as I was e-mailing my mom. I shared with recent discovery with Chris and he responded by informing me that I am nuts and a work a holic. He also forbid me to do housework since he knows I could fill my entire two days off finding some sort of cleaning to do around the house. He told me to sleep in and enjoy myself. I was very excited.

Of course I woke up at 5:45 AM this morning, the morning of my first of two days free from mentally ill children, mentally ill parents, and in my opinion, a large number of mentally unstable teachers. I tried falling back asleep. I tried pretending it was a Saturday where I normally sleep in a few extra hours. I closed my eyes, put the sheet over my head, and imagined it was only 2AM and I would regret if I didn't go back to sleep. It didn't work. What is the fun of sleeping in when I can't snuggle up to my husband in bed?

So here I am at 6:30 AM having given up on sleeping. I had to wait to get up until Chris left for work because I knew he would have given me a hard time. He already noted I was too awake for my first day off when he kissed me goodbye. I have already created a list of things I want to do today. I need to go to the library and return my book on tape and perhaps check out another one. I need to schedule a doctor's appointment and get a quick blood draw for which I am 4 months overdue. Let's check my list...change the sheets for my guest coming Saturday night, bake muffins for the bridal shower tonight, wrap my gift, check to see if the favors I ordered for the shower will be here by this afternoon, go to the gym, run to the grocery store, etc... Ah yes, a relaxing day indeed.

Suburbia

Early evening this past Sunday was the epitome of suburbia perfection. Not that I'm saying this can't happen any place other than in the suburbs or that the suburbs are perfect. Goodness knows I'm a city girl. However, I was at my house when this happened and being that my house, The Dumpling, as named by my mom, is where this occurred, it is henceforth suburbia perfection.

Chris and I had just finished a run/walk (more walk than run) when we saw our neighbor, Wayne, putting together his new light post. Chris decided to help out so after realizing I was more of an annoyance than assistance, I went home and relaxed on the hammock. I was lying there thinking how blessed I was to be in my hammock. I was on my big deck outside of my beautiful house. Not only that but I had the luxury of relaxing. My job doesn't bleed over into my weekends and if I can stay focused on God, I can usually leave my thoughts of work at work. That day the sky was blue with just a few clouds in the sky. The breeze was blowing and the temperature was perfect. I closed my eyes and listened. I could hear the neighborhood kids playing. In the distance I heard the ice cream truck playing its music. The kids shrieked in delight and took off running toward the sound of the music. I leaned over in my hammock and watched the kids run, ride their bike, and roller skate to the corner as the ice cream truck pulled up. Little boys a few streets over trickled into the line that had formed next to the ice cream truck. As each child surrendered their money and received their treat, they slowly walked towards their house with a smile on their face.

I turned back in my hammock and closed my eyes. Ah, suburbia perfection.

In sickness and in health

Being sick is never fun. I don't care how much complaining I am allowed to do or how much I am babied by my husband, I would still rather be healthy. Since school is back in session, I have had my fair share of less than healthy days recently. About a week into school I woke up during one of my precious Saturday mornings with a fever. The fever lasted only a day but the sore throat/cold lasted a full week. My cough lasted two and a half weeks. By the time I gave the virus to Chris and he was getting over it, my cough was just about over.

Now that school has been in session for just over a month, I am sick again. No fever this time but the cold/head and chest congestion is so awful that I would almost rather have the fever. The cough has returned but not as bad as last time so maybe it will be gone before I give this new virus strain to Chris.

So this is what it means when they say, "in sickness and in health." The "until death due us part" must also have encompassed when I hocked up a luggie while on a walk during brief moments when I didn't want to exchange my body for someone else earlier this afternoon. Poor Chris saw me bend over towards the side walk and I'm sure was concerned I was going to throw up or something equally revolting when I spit out what felt like a golf ball sized wad of phlem. It was nasty but boy I felt better.

I'm hoping that I will be cured in a few days and that maybe, just maybe Chris won't get sick although he has already started sneezing.

Ah, wedded bliss.

Chicago Bears

Tomorrow is a very exciting day for me. It marks the official start to the Chicago Bears football season. The game is at 3:15 against the Green Bay Packers, our nemesis. Chris and I will have to get our Sunday errands done quickly so we can make it to a sports bar to watch the game. FOX is not one of the four television channels we get at our house hence the need for the sports bar.

The sports bar also comes in handy when the one lowly Chicago Bears fan wants to watch the game at the same time the rest of the city wants to watch the Indianapolis Colts game.

The excitement of the football season increased when Chris surprised me by buying a Chicago Bears flag for our house. We had been looking for one but had yet to purchase anything. I couldn't contain myself and had to put the flag up last Sunday as a little taster to the season. I walked down the hall in our house singing what I think was the wedding march while holding up the Bears flag. We took the ceremonial hanging of the flag to the next level by finding the Bears song on the internet. It was quite a moment being able to hang the flag on the house. I added the finishing touch to the house by bringing the Build-A-Bear, donning Chicago Bears garb including a helmet and football, to sit on the couch.

Let the Bears season begin!

Honeymoon Memories

I think I want another honeymoon. Sandals at St. Lucia here we come!

Weight loss

Weight loss is an interesting topic. It is on the cover of People magazine about every two months. It seems to be in every issue at least somewhere every week. It is frequently a story on msn.com, my news source, not to mention the main page of aol.com. And that doesn't even begin to touch the ads on TV and in magazines.

The subject is weight is one that Americans are obsessed. We want to lose weight but we don't want to have to actually work to lose weight. We want to, as my mom saw a magazine as we walked through the check out isle, melt off the fat. We want the quick fix. Even if it took us 6 months to put it on, we want to lose it in 6 weeks. We want instant gratification. Welcome to America!

Surprisingly, the topic of how to lose weight isn't want I want to write about. I'm clearly not an expert. I want to write about the attitudes I have come across as I have started my journey to lose weight. It has been very interesting.

I have come to realize that as Americans have gotten fatter, losing weight has no longer become a matter of feeling better about ourselves as much as it has become being thinner than THAT person, whomever THAT person might be at the moment.

Since marrying Chris, I have gained approximately 10 pounds. Since meeting Chris, I am up about 20 pounds. Granted when we met I was doing a lot of modeling, stressed out with graduate school, and probably weighed too little. Alright, go ahead and sling the tomatoes or snarl at me. That is what this post is about...other people's attitudes. After having to buy larger clothes and then having those become so uncomfortable that I had to unbutton, I knew it was time to do something.

I have always eaten relatively healthy but knew my portion control was over the top. I decided two weeks ago to start counting calories. I'm not talking about guesstimating my calories. I keep a little notepad with me and write down everything I eat along with the calories that are in it. The calorie counter on the internet has become my newest bookmark. It isn't easy and it is darn right impossible when guests are in town and we go out to eat. I typically do my best for breakfast and lunch and then try to order something relatively healthy for dinner knowing they are probably serving me 1000 calories more than I actually need.

My frustration comes when others see me writing my calories down and they harass me for being on a diet. Am I fifty pounds overweight? No. Could I be? Sure. That is why I am doing something about it now. Other people get upset that to them, I look relatively thin. It doesn't matter that I feel badly about myself and don't fit in my clothes. I am thinner than them so hence, I shouldn't be dieting and deserve abuse. I had a guy ask me today, "Are you on a diet?" I could tell in his tone of voice that I was in for some chastising words if I said yes so I simply ignored the question...which of course brought about chastising words anyway. It seems that people feeling good about themselves isn't as important. We see what we want to see and if that means we see someone who might not look too overweight on a diet, we look down on them with irritation.

The crux is this: It is socially unacceptable to be on a diet unless we are morbidly obese (a slight exaggeration but I'm allowed since this is my blog). It isn't fair. It isn't right. And it certainly makes counting calories much harder when I would rather eat a dump of cookie dough, have half a gallon of Spouse Like a House ice cream, or eat frosting, cake, or pie until I die.

THE WEEK OF TORREY

Chris had a celebration a few weeks ago. It was called THE WEEK OF TORREY. Chris invented it and Chris celebrated it. Of course he brought me along for the ride. It was my birthday on July 19th. It was a Wednesday. It wasn't any big deal...or to me it wasn't. However, Chris has a different spin on birthdays. To him, birthdays are HUGE. Hence the week long celebration.

The celebration began with my mom taking Chris and me out the week before since she was in town and would be back home by the time my birthDAY rolled around. It was then, in the restaurant parking lot at the top of his voice, that Chris declared THE WEEK OF TORREY having begun.

The following Monday Chris surprised me by setting up appointments for my best girlfriend and me to have a facial and a head massage at a spa in town. It was incredible. What guy thinks of setting up an appointment and then think of inviting your best friend along? That's right. No one...except my amazing husband.

On Tuesday Chris took me out for sushi which is one of my favorite foods next to chocolate, pizza, and my mom's oyster sauce chicken wings. After dinner he took me to the mall so I could go shopping and buy a dress of my choice. Again, what guy does that?

Wednesday was the real deal. It was my official birthday. If you were to ask me, a great birthday celebration consists of going out to eat and having the people close to you call and tell you Happy Birthday. A card of two also helps. :) My mom and sister called. My dad's call is encompassed in my mom's call. My brother's card and gift arrived on my actual b-day and two co-workers remembered it was my birthday. Not half bad if you ask me. For Chris, not good enough. He made me blueberry pancakes for breakfast and stashed a card in the dash of my car for me to find. He also took me to the Melting Pot which is an amazing way to ingest 5000 calories and walk out feeling like your skin won't stretch over your organs. It was a great day. It was a great birthday. But sadly, it was over. Or was it?

The following day Chris dropped my car off at the paint shop as my final surprise to my birthday. He had the hood of my car painted. I was in a car accident about 6+ months ago and had my hood replaced with a spare part. The spare hood had never been painted so was black. I liked to describe my car as a two toned ghetto machine. Chris had decided it was time for his wife to stop driving a ghetto machine. It was extremely thoughtful and was very exciting when I was able to pick up my one toned car and drive it home.

Yes, I think I have the best husband in the world. The only problem is, what the heck am I going to do for his birthday?

Indy Hash House Harriers

Everyone has different roles they play. For example, I am a daughter, wife, sister, niece, aunt, social worker, Christian, friend, etc... Chris and I can now add to that list of roles. As of last night, we are now Hashers.

Hash House Harriers (hhh) is a group of adults who get together for a game of hide and seek of sorts. Two "hares" get a 15 minute head start from the "hounds" or "hashers." The two hares bring with them chalk and flour. They create a trail through woods, water, construction sites, or anything they deem appropriate. The rule is that the trail must stay on public property. Being a veteran cross country runner, I figured I had this thing down since in cross country we spend our lives following a line that has been painted on the ground. That is what I expected: a solid line. WRONG! What fun is following a line?

While the hares were out creating the trail, the chalk talk commenced. It was here that I learned the trail might not be as easy as expected. The hares throw down a bit of flour letting the hashers know they are on the right trail but there are also symbols indicating the hashers have reached a intersection and need to search the area to determine the correct direction. The hares also put down marks that can be an incorrect trail. Chris and I ran into one of these last night. After going a quarter of a mile out of our way, we reached a marker that stated we had to count back twelve marks before we would be on the correct trail.

Oh, there is one more thing the hares do to slow down the hashers. The hares put beer on the trail. Amazingly enough, it works! The hares write "BN" in flour which means beer is near and the hashers must search for it. Once found, the socializing that started before the chalk talk begins again. When the beer is gone or the hashers start to get the itch to continue, whistles are blown and everyone picks up where the trail left off.

Last night's trail was an arduous one that weaved through a heavily wooded area and across streams. I managed to roll my ankle which the seasoned harrier behind me saw. He yelled "ankle traps" and the message was passed via yelling to all the runners and walkers that were behind us.

Hashers have their own language as well. When a trail is found, "on-on" is shouted which is then shouted by all those within hearing distance and carried on so every following behind knows. There is also the "on-in", "on-after", "down-down, " etc...

When the trail, which is anywhere from 3-5 miles long, ends, the runners wait for the walkers to arrive and more festivities begin. Virgin hashers are given a ceremony for making it through their first hash. There is much bawdy singing as violations that have occurred while on the trail are given out. Violations are handed down in the form of having to "down-down" a small amount of beer. One virgin hasher wore new shoes. Two others wore shirts with another race logo. Competition in any form is a huge violation so apparently the breast cancer run is competitive enough that wearing the shirt is a violation. Also, the first person to complete the trail commits a violation because for them to have come in first, surely they were running competitively. Chris and I were violated for being too passionate but being that we showed no affection at all (until we were given the violation and I planted a sloppy kiss on him) I think the hasher meant we were too in love. I liked that violation. :) I was also made to "down-down" for having a July birthday. The "down-down" is put into a plastic cup which equals the amount of beer inside of a small dixie cup. When the hashers have finished singing "down-down" and the cup is empty, you indicate that by placing the empty cup on your head...

I could write so much more about this incredibly fun experience but I will have to save some for later. Chris and I will be in Boston next weekend so we will miss the next hash and after last night, we are very sorry to miss any.

As I end this lengthy blog, imagine 30 grown adults running around blowing whistles, shouting to one another, getting lost, drinking beer, and laughing all for any passer buyer to see. Who wouldn't want to do it again?

2006 Formula One race in Indianapolis, Indiana. This is my part time job. It has gotten much more part time the last few years. I used to do a lot of modeling when I had a job that was very flexible. It is impossible to live in Indiana and be a full time model so all models are part time which means squeezing it into the already busy daily routine. Modeling means the phone rings and if I want a job, I need to be available during the work day usually one or two days later. It is almost impossible to plan around with a full time job and evening or weekend jobs are almost non-existent.

The only modeling I will do this year took place this past weekend. I am one of fifty girls who represent the United Sates at the Formula One, aka: United States Grand Prix. It is always a fun and exciting time. We are known as the grid girls and participate in the opening ceremonies at the race track. We help create the grids that each driver starts the race from. There are two girls at each grid. One of us hold the actual grid sign for the driver. The other girl holds the flag of the country the driver is from. I never said it was a hard job but it is a very fun job. The Formula One race is unlike any other race in the country. The elite, frequently the most wealthy from around the world, come to this race. Huge amounts of money are spent and if I am lucky, one of my wealthy friends takes Chris and me out. This year Chris already had plans so another girlfriend and I spent the race in a very nice suite. It was a great view to see the race plus they had free food and drinks. Poor social workers are always up for free food and drinks.

The other fun part to the weekend are the parties we are invited to. Red Bull is usually the sponsor and being one of the grid girls, we get an invite to each private party that Red Bull throws. Last year Chris and I got to rub shoulders with one of the Ferrari drivers...no not Schumacher. The other perk to the parties is people watching which truly should be a sport in and of itself. The outfits, the hair, the jewelry...all is great fun to watch.

But the event for this year has come to a close. I will wait eagerly for my check from my modeling agency so I can go on a wild spending spree for something exotic like a water softener or towel rods for the bathroom. The possibilities are endless.

Addendum to previous post

I want to clarify the final sentences in my previous post. Christopher and my family have been nothing but supportive throughout my job hunting and feet dragging. It is a blessing knowing I have them to turn to when I need encouragement. I will continue to write as I go on my journey of finding a new job.

self disclosure I

I'm dragging my feet.

I don't need anyone to tell me because I already know. My job search has been much discussion but little action.

I'm dragging my feet.

I know my job is not the best fit for me. I like short term relationships with my clients and not the long term "I must come up with something new every week and eventually fix them" relationships. I know, I know...no one who understands my job expects me to "fix" them but yet everyone expects me to fix them. I'm not sure I can make it off of the rewards of having a kid suspended only three times in a week instead of four times after six months of therapy. It isn't enough to keep me going. That isn't even considering the immense amount of pressure that comes with the title of "therapist." I like to refer out to therapists...Not BE a therapist.

So why am I dragging my feet?

After my last job where I was treated so poorly and every day was miserable, I vowed I would be in my new job for years. In fact, I told multiple people that I was here to stay. Initially I loved my job. Burnout wasn't on the horizon and I hadn't begun to feel the pressures of the job. Granted I was also getting married a month and a half after I started so that may have been part of my bliss. Even now, I still love many aspects of my job. My boss is amazing. My co-workers are incredible people. I truly love the children with whom I work.

My biggest problem now: I feel like a failure.

I feel like I went back on my word. I was considering telling my boss I am looking for a new job when a little bird decided to tell my boss first. I have a good enough relationship with my boss where I know she will be understanding and might even assist me in finding a better fit within the social work field. The hard part is that I also know I am disappointing her. Sure, I didn't make a promise that I would stay but I think I made a promise to myself and now I'm feeling the ramifications of that broken promise...to me, to her, to the people on my team.

I made my first phone call today to set up an informational interview. I am nervous because I'm not sure I know my niche yet. I know it isn't therapy but social work is an abyss of options. I'm not sure I can stomach starting all over AGAIN only to discover I was wrong AGAIN. Changing jobs is a frightening endeavor that is full of emotions that aren't easy to articulate.

I don't want to hear, "But you're such a good therapist." I need to hear, "I will support you in whatever you choose, this time and next time if that is what happens."

I will go at my pace and no one else's...not because I don't want to find a job faster but because I need to take care of my emotions as well as my career.

Thoughts on marriage...and Chris' hammock.

For Chris' half birthday, my parents, brother, and I all pitched in and bought Chris a hammock. My parents have one at their house and he absolutely loves it so we knew it would be a perfect gift. Chris' real birthday is the day of our wedding anniversay. Since I can already buy him winter clothes during Christmas, celebrating his birthday is the summer is much more fun. It also means he doesn't have to compete with any other event. Knowing Chris, he would bypass his birthday all together to make sure we focused on our anniversary. Birthdays are important to me which is why my family will continue to celebrate his birthday on June 3rd.

Yesterday I found out a friend of mine got married March 1st of this year. I was absolutely thrilled for him and couldn't wait to hear how much he liked married life. His response: I hate it. Hate it? How can anyone hate marriage. I know it can be rough. I've heard enough of the horror stories but the marriages that ended after only a few months typically happen in Hollywood, don't they? I'm not an expert after only 6 months but having been married twice as long as my friend, I feel that at least I know what it is like to be in the beginning stages.

I spoke with a previous roommate of mine yesterday afternoon after hearing from my friend about his marriage. My former roommate asked how married life was going. My response: It's perfect. Don't get me wrong. That doesn't mean we never argue, have hard feelings, or occasionally go to bed irritated with one another. If that were the case, I would have said our marriage was an anomaly. Our marriage, in my eyes, is perfect because we go through all of the trials of married couples but we continually strive to work through our differences. We hate those awkward moments of frustration enough to talk about it and get things resolved as soon as possible. We took great care in preparing ourselves for marriage by processing through hurdles other couples frequently run into after making the life long commitment.

Chris and I say please and thank you when one of us does the laundry, dishes, feeds the cats, takes out the trash, etc... Nothing is assumed or taken for granted. We appreciate each another. We help each other. And we completely adore each other. I know tough times with come but with Jesus as our focus, our families and friends as support, and a great marriage as a goal, we will make it through.

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." 

The MC 

After many requests...

Welcome to the blog of the MC!! Chances are that if you have never been to my mother's website, www.motherofbridebyjan.blogspot.com, you have no idea what this blog is about or why on earth it is named, "Year of the MC." The bad news is that I refuse to give you the history which will prove to be important in understanding some of what will be written so you will have to check out her blog. The good news is that she is one of the most talented writers I have seen so be prepared to roll off your seat laughing.

This blog was created after multiple requests were made for there to be an off-shoot of my mom's blog. The requests were considered and after much deliberation, sweat, and tears, here we are...

My name is Torrey and I have been lucky enough to enjoy two months and one day of wedded bliss with my new husband Christopher, aka: The Beamer. This blog will most likely range from its original intention, what it is like to be a married couple (hence the "MC" title) all the way to cat poop and miraculous ways to fix it...the cat poop, not the MC.

Chris is having some male bonding for the first time since we got married on December 3rd, 2005 so I figured there was no better time to start a blog about the inner workings of our marriage then now. And now is the time for you to check out my mom's website so you will have a head start to what this is all about. Happy Laughing!