Chapter Two - Tattoo

I waited, and waited and waited.

I hadn't realized how much I'd really counted on the lunch guy coming back with some information about his conversation with the guy at Chevron, until the dang guy didn't show up.

There were a few days at lunch that came and went with no sign of the guy who had days earlier seemed so determined to spill the beans on my stalking secret.  I'd leave my bowling class (yes, I took bowling) and head to the Cafeteria with my friend, lightheaded and barely breathing.  Only to feel my heart sink when the new guy with the info wasn't around. 

How was I allowing this guy who'd I barely even spoken to dictate my mood for the day?

I didn't like it, and neither did my friend.

For reasons still unknown to me, my friend began filling my mind with negative stuff.  Saying things like, "Come on - like this is really going to happen. Get real."

One night, in the "not knowing any new info" period of time, my friend became really mean and told me I was being ridiculous for believing this guy was actually possibly interested.

It was not cool to say those things to me, so I walked out of the house.

But, really, he was right.

I was slowly taking off my pretty red shoes and preparing to hand them over to some guy who was working at the local gas station.

But, man...there was just something about this guy.

A few days and one weekend later, I was back at school and eating lunch with my friend.  I had gotten over the suspense of pending information, assumed the irrational hope had been shut down, and was back to rocking my heels.

Then, he showed up.

Crap.

All rational women's lib. thought processes were quickly pushed aside...and my heart began entering cardiac arrest city.

"Hey Jenny...he's going to ask you out," said with a smirky little brother-ish kind of attitude.

"No way. He doesn't even know who I am,"  I said quickly and snidely.

"Uh, ya he totally does. You go to Chevron a lot, remember?"

Busted.

"He thought you had a boyfriend because you are always with guys."

(Well, at least that part of my stalking plan had merit)

"Well, we'll see..." I said with apprehension and arrogance.

I'm positive every person in that room could see through the vague mask I was wearing in defense of my pride.

We walked to our cars in the parking lot on the opposite side of campus after lunch was over.

It may have been the cool October breeze mingled with remnants of Summer temperatures...

...but for some reason it felt as if I was walking on air...

"Jenny, by the way - he has a tattoo," said the guy with the info.

I kinda like tattoos.

Chapter One - Pretty Red Shoes.

There was this guy.

THE guy.

The guy who made my heart stop in a way that I thought I just may actually die.

The guy who I had seen just once or twice before at a few group gatherings with mutual friends. Always only partly there, preferring to sit on the sidelines and let his buddy be the center of attention.

I made sure this guy was a part of my day.

...Way before he even knew it...

Stopping to get $2 worth of gas - every.single.day.

Fountain drinks and candy stops were another easy shield, heaven knows I don't go a day without either of those.

Sometimes I took a group of my guy friends with me, on purpose.  I had to throw a little "hard to get" into the mix, especially considering that I was bordering on the verge of desperate crazy stalker with as often as I appeared around the joint. Sometimes I took my girl friends with me. They would always try to force me inside the building, you know, actually try to "talk" to this guy who had siphoned his way into my daily stream of thought processing.

I always resisted.

I never thought for one second he would be interested in me.

I was in my last year of College, recently re-enrolled at Weber State University.

My best friend had just left for Utah State, and I was on my own.

I was in a good place. 

But, man...getting to that place had involved a whole lot of barefoot walking.
And, trust me...those bare feet were walking on some pretty nasty trails.

I had been in love before; a love that fueled my co-dependant, daughter of a recovering alcoholic fire.

The coals of that love had finally simmered to a point where I allowed myself to step away, outside of the smoke, and receive insight as to the person I could actually attempt to be -all.by.myself.

Once the smoke cleared, I began to recognize that I had missed out on some pretty awesome sight-seeing.

So, I explored; explored the values that had been etched inside of me, and began a path of figuring out if they were worth keeping around.  It wasn't long before I realized they were there to stay.

I was actually dating, which really was a first for me. I had a few pretty terrible experiences my first two years in High School, and then spent the last year attached and exclusive.

I was feeling confident; making new friends in classes, giving phone numbers away to guys whom I never dreamed would ever in a million years ask. 

It was new terrain, and this time I wore shoes.
Pretty red ones.

I ate lunch on campus every day with a good friend at the time, who happened to be a guy.

We began getting to know a few others in the cafeteria and a lunch group semi-formed.

One day, during the course of lunch conversation and small talk, we began giving my friend a hard time about a girl. He always went to the same Zions Bank to see a particular teller, but never dared to ask her name, and certainly not her number.  As the conversation deepened, and I sensed my friend getting more uncomfortable, I loyally interjected,"Hey...it's not that bad. I do that too. Everyone does.  I stop and see the guy at Chevron and put $2 worth of gas in my car all the time."

Silence.

"Wait...who do you see?" 

A voice from a person who I had only recently gotten to know through this lunch group, spoke up.

Crap.

My friend told him, because he knew - I had made him take me there to see him.

(So much for loyalty.)

"Really? I know him, like really well. He is my friend's brother's best friend. I see him all the time."

Double.Crap.

"I'm going to talk to him tonight.  He has a girlfriend, but no one likes her."

(I still don't like her)
I had to make a scene and throw a pretend fit about this guy at our table saying something, but let's get real...

I really did want the guy to know.

I wanted him to know, but I was absolutely certain it was going to lead to absolutely nothing.
 "Chevron Guy" would not be interested (he did have a girlfriend) and I would have to buy gas 20 miles away for the rest of my life.

Oh ya, and the fact that I had boyfriend/missionary/guy who had just sent me pictures of rings to choose from, didn't make things any less complicated.
But, maybe...just maybe...Chevron Guy would actually care.

I was beginning to discover this new place of scenic independence could be quite interesting.

*Disclaimer: I've felt like I wanted to do this for some time...not with the intention to really share my love story with the world ...but, to share it with my kids.
One day when my girl is grown up and in love, I want her to know that I was too.  
...that amidst the meals, and moves and taking care of life...her dad and I were/are in
 love. 
Even though love grows to take different forms over the years, our love began like this.  Probably a lot like her love will, and probably a lot like many of your loves began as well.
I know that I can write this in several other formats, but I also know that doing so would most likely prevent me from sharing these thoughts with the one guy who may actually want to hear them.  The guy I married :) So, yes, this is personal...but, sharing personal stuff is kinda who I am.

When You Wish Upon a Star...

There's no way in Hell I could ever make these babies, but she can.

Amazing, right?

I know.

She is amazing and super talented.

And, super sweet to offer to make these beautiful ornaments (which she designed) and the tree topper (which is coming next).

She is especially super sweet because I basically asked her for her opinion while she was in town for five seconds with the "not so" secret hope she would offer to make them...because I knew they would turn out like a Kindergarten class project if I tried.

I have been blindsided by the generosity of my friends.

Some of you I've not even met in person.

I get packages of children's books in the mail every few days and each time my eyes well in genuine gratitude.

I am so grateful for good people in my life.

Good people who love my little people and the dream for this tree.

My heart is full.

Crazy Peace.

So, yesterday was crazy "go to church for five hours" Sunday.
Really. I did.
(I know, I know, "Watch for Lightening"...ha.ha.ha)
I went to a meeting in the morning where my Dad spoke and went to meeting in the evening to support the young women in our congregation.
Both very awesome things, and I was happy to go. I really actually wanted to.

Now, my earlier/normal self would've justifiably justified (how's that for proper adjective usage?) staying home for my actual home church three hour block.
And...really, I wanted to stay home.
I wanted to lie in my bed and watch last week's Tivo'd Greys with a nice cold can of diet coke and a handful of Deak's Halloween candy.
But, I didn't.
I went, and it wasn't out of the pure goodness of my heart.
I kinda had to or Abby would've started doing "I get to miss Church" happy dance, and those dances are strictly reserved for important stuff...like the Superbowl.

Anyway, so it happened again.
I do something I don't want to do; I do it because in theory, I know it is a good thing to do.
And, then that "good thing to do" proves to me it's actually pretty awesome.

Amidst all the church-going, lesson planning, scrubbing a shower and toilet in a dress and heels, five loads of laundry and stuffing food into Deak's face every five seconds during our Sacrament to keep him happy, I found peace.
How crazy is that?

I think that's how it works for me.
I push through days like yesterday, try my best to "do" the things that I know are good, but really don't have time for...and then...
wah.la...
Something happens.
...and I get just enough...
enough warm, tropical, beach smelling, sand toeing...Peace.
(Because that is what peace feels like to me, and I believe the Big Guy gives it to us the way we like it).
And, even though my relationship with peace is totally jacked up and bi-polar at its' best...
I think I am actually beginning to figure out that trying to do the stuff that I think is dumb sometimes, but is actually good...is worth it.
Who knew?

Simple makes me Happy.

What is it about Taylor Swift?
She is not an extraordinarily talented singer...nice...but, not amazing.
Her songs are simple and written with a sense of candor that sometimes makes me laugh, but mostly makes me smile and remember...
I think her endearing quality is her honesty; the heart she brings to her song-writing.
I don't care about the haters...
I really like people who have an honest heart.

Yes, I am 31 and yes, I did download her new CD onto my iPhone this week.
And...I listened to the whole thing with headphones while my husband watched whatever sporting event he was watching.
I loved it all.
Especially this song.
"Never Grow Up"
Listen/Read Lyrics

I'm a sucker for a song that reminds me of my Ab.
I even dedicated it to her in the car while driving her to school on Tuesday.
She looked at me like I was smoking crack...but, in the rear view mirror I saw her listening very intently with her one-eyed "I'm really trying hard to focus" squint.
I even saw her smile.

Happy songs...make for happy days.
Thanks Miss Swift.

A Geisha and a Ninja.

The Geisha was beautiful and the Ninja pretty much hated trick or treating this year.

(Who didn't?  It was pouring rain!)

Luckily we were able to celebrate with a couple parties before the big night, which allowed Deak to try out his awesome spandex outfit, and Ab to roam without the humidity wrecking her hair and makeup.

At the Howe Family Party:

Ab and Deak with Easton, Kenndell and Hager.

At our annual Pre-Trick or Treating Party:

With a neighbor...raking leaves...for the 550th time

 Taylor, Ab and her BF Em

Ninja Deak...

Hard Core donut game players...

And...hardcore apple bobbing players...

The aftermath of being dunked...(preparing to chase and spit apple on my dad - our version of family fun).

The beautiful Geisha...


We had a great October, but man...it has disappeared fast.
Bring on the turkey.

Witches and Walking.

We have gone to the Gardner Village Witch Festival every October for the past three years, and it never ever disappoints.  It is just a fantastic way to begin the Holiday season.

This year the weather was beautiful, the company was awesome...and my Deak decided to surprise us all by upping his walking game.

All in the name of a nasty petting zoo.
You See...there's this thing about having a darling little Ring Chromosome in Deak's body.
I love the ring, and would not change my experience in having had this boy with his ring for second...
but, man...the kid is getting HEAVY.
I so did not want to take him into the petting zoo.
My arm ached in the anticipation of lifting him up and down, over and over, so he could see each animal.

Ab pushed me to do it, "He will love it, Mom."
I begrudgingly obeyed.
We walked in, and I placed Deak in front of me to walk by holding onto my pinkie fingers.

I figured it would last a few seconds
Nope.
He did not want to STOP!
We did walk and touch every animal possible...
and I loved every single second.

Not so certain about the no-hands gig quite yet...but, getting there.

This is where I cried.
Happy little quiet tears of gratitude.
Thanking that awesome maker of mine for the opportunity I have to watch my little guy hold onto a fence like a big boy.
...All by himself...

(I'm serious...is she the most beautiful child ever?
I think so.
Inside and out.)
Thanks to my Ab's not-so gentle push to step out of my little "must do things that are easy with Deak" routine...
I got this...

It was stinky and nasty and required lots of hand sanitizer.
But, it was beautiful and amazing and full of joy.

...A reminder that this curly blond and blue-eyed boy is capable of not only moving his feet;
he is capable of moving that tough layer of stuff that can surround the hardest of hearts.
Mostly, my own.