BIG day....

Today marks an anniversary.

A special little moment in my history.

On this day - June 21st - in 2003...the man of my dreams asked me to be his wife.

As usual, there's a story.

We were up at my parent's house in Western North Carolina (where - so the story goes - it is a local call to God.) I was positive this man was the man for me. And I thought I knew that he knew I was the girl for him.

AND I was absolutely annoyed because it was taking him for-ev-er to get on the ball and just ask me to marry him.

May 2003 - My 21st birthday

(Apparently in love-struck-Whitney-land, "forever" is defined as 4 months and one week from the night we met. Clearly, patience is not my strongest trait.)

Little story detour...that whole "love at first sight" business?  

The stuff I used to mock and think was a bunch of ridiculous baloney Hollywood feeds us?

 Yeah, well, that is almost how fast I fell for My Love. 

2 weeks after meeting him, I said "I love you."  

Promptly followed with, 

"You don't have to say it back. But if I didn't tell you - right now - I would explode. And I just love you! I can't keep it in. I don't care about dumb rules. I LOVE YOU!!! And you are going to realize you love me too, I know it."

He responded in rather stunned silence. 

(He waited TWO MORE WEEKS before he was ready to say it back.)

I knew I was right. :)

So back to June 2003....

We were at my parent's house....on top of a mountain...swinging on a porch swing....watching the stars come out.
It was FREEZING. We were even huddled under a sleeping bag!

We were talking about everything and nothing. Then we went over to the balcony rail and looked up at the stars...and I would NOT stop talking.

I'm told I don't shut-up when I'm nervous.

Finally, My Love put his hand on my arm and said kindly, "Please let me talk."

So I got quiet. I had no idea of what he wanted to say...but I really, really, REALLY, hoped he wasn't going to break up with me.

He started saying wonderful things about how much he loved me. What a complete relief!

Then he dropped to one knee....I thought his knee had gone out and so I started fussing over him.

That is when he said, "Whitney, shut up."

And suddenly, it clicked.  He was proposing. So I listened. And I wished I could burn the things he said into my mind.  Out came a box - but I just hugged him and said "YES!! Yes!!"

After a few moments of me blubbering, he asked if I wanted to see the ring. (It was night, and we were outside.)

We went inside and I checked out the ring. It was lovely. Then I made him come into my parent's room with me and wake up my parents to tell them the great news!

Apparently, that was not extremely normal. But I couldn't wait until morning! 

I told you patience wasn't my strongest thing.

My Love, thank you for being such a great man. 
A man better than any piece of jewelry. 
Thank you for wanting to adventure together. 
Thank you being the daddy to our babies. 
For being my best friend. 
For taking care of us. 
For changing diapers.
For laughing at my jokes.
For calling and writing when you are away.
For making time for your brood.
For following the Lord's leading for our family. 
Really, I can sum it up like this:

My Love, thank you for telling me to 'shut up' 9 years ago.

I love you.

~Whitney
 Copyright 2012

A Study in Stupidity....

So, for some reason, I had not thought having 4 kids five and under would be that hard.

One kid isn't that hard - how much worse can 4 be?

I mean, I had seen parents with 4 young children rush by me in a harried-sleep-deprived-daze dashing off to help the poop-explosion-melt-down-nursing needs of a child. 

I had even wondered why they were so harried-sleep-deprived.  

Oh the naivete of pride and youth.

I guess 4 little people isn't that hard if you've actually slept through the night once a year.  But I wouldn't know about that.

I must have the kind of face that says 
"Please, please comment on everything about my life and tell me why I'm doing it wrong." 
Lucky me. 

I've been reminded recently - by numerous random strangers - that I MUST be crazy to have SO MANY children and be a mama-who-doesn't-work-for-financial-pay. 

I get paid - very well - just not in anything that I can contribute to a retirement fund. Unless you count - hopefully - raising kids that like you enough to take care of you when you are old. 

Apparently, mild-insanity runs in my family. 

My paternal Grandmother - who was a brilliant, genius of a woman - was crazy enough to have 4 children in 4 years.

Actually, her oldest TURNED 4, THREE days AFTER #4 - my dad - was born.

While married to the Air Force. 

And moved twice during the SAME period. One move from Arizona to Idaho after Baby #2, and one between Babies #3 and #4.   

According to family lore, she resorted to creating an intriguing tonic labeled "Tiger's Milk" which helped her handle the crazy her beans shelled out. 

My maternal Grandmother - who was also a brilliant woman - was crazy enough to have 4 children in 4 1/2 years. 

While married to the Merchant Marines.

Perhaps insanity skips a generation. Because none of their children attempted to pull off a repeat. For the record, we really weren't seeking to repeat anybody's anything. We just.....well, this really isn't the place to explain all that.

Or maybe I just am the wrong fit for this generation. 

Who knows.

Unfortunately, I'm a slow learner.

A really, REALLY slow learner.

So, I am now walking in the shoes of those people I used to look down on from my high horse.  And while the walk is challenging, it is exhaustingly wonderful.

As I face the future with our Beans, I'm trying desperately to judge less, and understand more. 

So if you see me with my hair shoved in a hat, wearing the same clothes as the last time we saw each other,  rushing by you clutching one to three children in various awkward positions, with a diaper bag flying behind me.....

Feel free to point and laugh.

Because, apparently, the more I rail against it - 

the more likely it will become one of my life experiences.

~Whitney

Copyright 2011