Marry a Man Who Can Fold Fitted Sheets (the RIGHT way)

Lately I have seen a mixture of blog posts from different authors, thanking their husband’s for being the men that they are. (Way to go, Ladies. I really believe our men deserve SO much more credit than they are often given!) I actually sent one to my husband, but in that woman’s list, I kept thinking, “That doesn’t REALLY sound like me.” Because it wasn’t, obviously. Also because she thanked hers for not complaining when she’s the first to shower and uses all the hot water, and that didn’t align to our marriage ;) He makes it well known that he prefers me to shower the night before, as to NOT use up his morning hot water—haha! Love you, Babe. But really, I think there are a lot of posts on motherhood and how ‘moms do so much,’ and that is why I want to share a blurb here, with you, and for my husband. Because my husband does a LOT, and he deserves a TON of credit for helping our house be a happy home. A little side note, have you met my husband? Maybe you have seen him on my Instagram account through stories and when we have shared ‘live’ before. And many of you do probably know him personally. But if you don’t…

He is tall, dark, and handsome. No, really. He is six foot four, has Italian genetics, and he’s INCREDIBLY good looking. Some may think I married up, and I will happily admit that.

But more than those things, my husband works his butt off in every single thing that he does. And one of the things that he does the VERY best, is being Dad to our two children. He is THE most patient person I am convinced, in the whole world. While my temper is prone to show its’ ugly face in the heat of our children’s whining and bickering, he is tried and true, and CALMLY handles the situation. Another thing that he does incredibly well, is loving ME. When I met him as a nineteen year old, I know I told him about my love for horses…but did he ever really expect me to OWN not one but TWO giant Thoroughbreds, and for me to be gone OFTEN caring for them…? No, probably not. Yet here he is, supportive, encouraging, and uplifting—loving me through ALL my neurotic horse crazed moments.

So, Dear, Sweet, Handsome Hunk of a Husband…

1 . Thank you first, for choosing me. For choosing me when I have a nasty attitude, when I am moody and hormonal, when I am insecure and doubt, and when I am simply in a funk. Thank you for choosing me when I get mad and upset, when I mess up and make poor choices, and when I can’t process well what I am feeling. Thank you for choosing me in my better, my worse, and everything in between.

2.I see in you so much determination and so much strength. You have this way about you that calms me, and that boosts our families spirits. Thank you for making us laugh, for helping us shake our stinky attitudes, and for being such a light to us and others.

3. If I didn’t have you, I would either a.) starve, because I’d eat incredibly small meals and/or skip food entirely or 2.) I would be incredibly unhealthy because my main meals would be Doritos, Mac n’ Cheese, and Cookie Crisp. Thank you for cooking for our family. For coming up with weekly menus, and doing the planning, grocery shopping, and meal prepping. Now that I type that out, I do believe all the women reading this will officially hate me for how great you are, but haters are gonna hate. Thanks for loving me even though I do NOT do those things.

4. Often I am irrational, neurotic, and don’t think the highest of myself. How many times have I pointed out my face wrinkles (or pimples) with dislike, and how many have you reassured me that you think that I am beautiful. Thank you for loving me through my insecurities. For wanting to be intimate with me, and for reminding me that you want ME. No one else. I feel comfortable and at ease with you. Maybe with other people I would feel like hiding my stomach wrinkles or be super aware of that loose skin; but not with you. Thank you for loving my mom body :)

5. You are patient and kind. Our children ADORE YOU, and you are such a hero in their (and my) eyes. The way our son looks up to you, wanting to be just like dad…there is a reason. It is because you embody the best qualities. You are showing them what it MEANS to be a father and a husband. You are showing our boy how he will someday need to care for his future wife, and how HE can be an amazing father to his own children. You show our daughter what it looks like to be loved, respected, and empowered. You verbally believe in me, and within that she sees how her future husband should believe and celebrate HER. I don’t think she will ever question if she is loved, and that quality is going to largely be because of you. Thank you. For being their role model and my dearest friend.

6. You make sure EVERYONE is taken care of, always. You plate the kids food and mine, before getting your own. You draw me bubble baths and provide space for me when I need it. You play basketball with our son even when you may be too tired. You wrestle our daughter because she LIVES for that, and you take her on dates, which mean the world to her. (“Can we go to El Nopal though?” ;)]

7. I tend to panic. You stay calm. I worry and wonder. You stay grounded and trust. I am worst case scenario when anxiety strikes. You are, ‘how can we fix this?’ I am insecure and question love. You are my favorite arms and safest hug. Thank you, for being all of this and more.

8. You fold our fitted sheets just like my mom. Which basically means you fold them perfectly. This will never cease to amaze me, and I am convinced if I didn’t have you, I would either not own fitted sheets, or they would just be wadded up when put away. Bless you for being the manly homemaker that you are. (Seriously though.)

9. You not only listen to my dreams, you ask how we can make them a reality. Because of you, the future is never scary, it is thrilling. I cannot wait to do life with you—forever.

10. Husband, you are such a help. In so many ways. And you always have been. When I needed you in the middle of the night as I nursed our babies, you were there. You were my rock during pregnancy, birth, and still to this day while they are now five and six. You help me do dishes, fold laundry, clean, sort, organize, de-clutter, take pictures, style for social media, come up with words when I seem to lose mine. Your heart is big, you love SO deeply, and I am just completely, absolutely, without a doubt in love with you.

Love,

Yours Truly
aka the girl who would be lost (and very unhealthy) without you

Let's Dance

Women with kids, I don't know about you, but come eight o'clock every night, I. am. done. 

Like, I put whoever's turn it is down for the night, turn around five seconds later to hug him or her five more times, fill that cup of water, blow their nose, put socks on their suddenly cold feet, take socks off now increasingly hot feet, and then I fall asleep outside their door. Okay, that falling asleep part doesn't happen. I usually head to the computer, turn my desk lamp on, and get to work editing photos and/or reaching out to companies/respond to e-mails. You can usually find my husband in his comfy grey chair [formerly known as Reese's rocking chair], remote in hand, kicked back and ready for a couple of hours of unwinding. Sometimes I remind myself that everything I THINK is important after being mom ALL day, just isn't. And I join him on the couch, after grabbing my favorite fuzzy blanket, ready to potentially pass out for the rest of the night. 

Parents, I don't know about in your household, but our routine pretty much looks the same, every. single. night. 

Is that just us? We have a schedule, we have the things we each enjoy doing, we kind of separate ways, and we hunker down to do whatever we want to do. Sometimes that's together, and sometimes that's apart. It's eight years of marriage and it's not BAD, it's just comfortable. Comfortable is sweet, don't get me wrong, but sometimes, you need to switch things up. 

Recently as I tucked the kids into bed, (plural, because they each need me to tuck them BOTH in AFTER Asa has done whichever one)--I was missing him. Staying at home feels SO different than being away from him teaching. Because teaching, we were doing very similar things all day long: teaching 3-5th grader emotional and behaviorally challenged children. And we were both apart from our own children, but we shared a common thread. Now that I'm taking some time off, and my conversations are almost solely with a 3 and 4-year old around the clock, I miss the heck out of him! 

I walked down the stairs, probably hunched over because I was so tired, and I KNOW I was feeling ready for bed that particular night. But I came over to my computer, searched "songs to slow dance to" on YouTube, and started playing the first one that came up. I went over to the TV, turned it off, and grabbed my husband by the hand. He looked very confused, but was already starting to smile. I stood on his feet, like I always do, and rested my head on his chest. "What motivated this?" he asked. 

"I just miss you," I replied. 

We danced through the whole song, he spun me in a few circles, and then planted a giant kiss on my forehead. We exchanged I love you's, and then instead of going to the living room to crash and watch TV, we sat at our eight foot farm-table instead. We talked and laughed for an HOUR. And I realized that what was once a typical and mundane Tuesday night, had turned into the most amazing and absolutely needed date night. This is it: 

Marriage. 

Dating. 

Love. 

Romance. 

Exhaustion. 

Sharing. 

Caring. 

Vulnerability. 

Risks.

Eight years of marriage.

We had the honor of being a part of a friend's wedding this weekend and I was the only bridesmaid who was a wife and mother. As teary eyed as all the rest of the ladies were staring at the bride and groom, I looked over at my husband who was being the epitome of SUPERDAD with our two kids in the front row; trying to keep them quiet, rested, attentive, and to help them get through however long the ceremony was going to be without a ginormous toddler melt down. Of COURSE I was SO excited for our friends who were exchanging vows and sharing in communion with each other, but tears welled in my eyes when I looked over at him and his eyes locked with mine. It hasn't been easy. There have been so many arguments, so many selfish remarks and comments and actions [mostly on my end...ALL on my end???], disagreements, forgiveness being plead, grace being begged for, and just LIFE. 

SO MUCH LIFE...

housed in these eight years. And I looked back over to this gorgeous bride and groom and thought, "May you ALWAYS dance with each other." 

And I suppose that's my recommendation to all of you. When you're tired and feeling weary, when life feels boring and more than mundane, when you've wiped a million boogers and changed thousands of poopy diapers... look to your spouse, your love, your person. Take him or her by the hand and whisper, 

"Babe, let's dance." 

If you want to hear the song that has always been our absolute favorite, the one we call "our song," click here! 

Chapter Three: Love is Enough

Before reading, I recommend that you catch up. [chapter one: here and chapter two: here]. Heck, you may be new here and have zero clue what we are writing about. So take a ten minute refresher and then c'mon in, chapter three has arrived! 

Within a matter of days, my heart was 100% Asa's. He worked early mornings at the coffee shop and between classes, I was working several random jobs. He would come over after finishing a shift and we would spend hours together doing life. I remember the long walks best of all...back before we had a rigid agenda. When we would daydream of the romantic families that lived inside those big, beautiful victorian homes--not really having a clue someday we too would be in a gorgeous and charming house of our own. I was planning a trip to Michigan pretty shortly after we met and I himmed and hawed with my mom about bringing him to meet them. Well, he came with me, (surprise, surprise), and then after that, he came to our Thanksgiving my brother was hosting in Nashville. There were a lot of moments where I fearfully tried to push Asa away. I loved him, completely and fully without a doubt, but that's what intimidated me. I wasn't trusting of men, especially after a very unfortunate work incident my freshman year; and yet, there was absolutely nothing untrustworthy about Asa. It's funny that looking back now, nine years later, I don't specifically remember the fights that I would pick with him, but I DO remember sitting outside my house in my car just stewing as he said,"If you want to break up, YOU have to end it. Because I am not going anywhere and I refuse to back out." As I write, I can so vividly see how God has used that same phrase in our marriage over these years. Remember, I choose you? Asa's been saying it from the beginning. 

The fall of 2007 will always be a magical memory for me. Something about love does that. Something about falling head over heels makes everything seem magical. We shared haunted houses, and long walks through neighborhoods dreaming of days to come. We went on romantic dates to the theater and learned how to be still with one another in coffee shops. We learned how to talk when there was nothing to say, and how sometimes the silence together said more than words ever could. October quickly became November.  It was no surprise to me that when she invited me to attend her families Thanksgiving in Nashville, that I jumped at the chance. I mean, turkey is turkey anywhere, and if I could eat alongside her, that made the turkey comma way better, right? But then, that sacred family holiday happened. Lights, and trees, and presents appearing everywhere. We found ourselves in an odd situation of wanting to celebrate together, but clinging so hard to the family we always knew. How could I skip my family Christmas…ever? I didn’t want to be away from the warm fire place, and crazy traditions that had defined the most magical of seasons my entire life. Ashley, being from Michigan set out to leave around the middle of December. We figured a break would be healthy, and that we would see each other after the holidays. We said our goodbyes, and she drove away.

Christmas was soon approaching and it was a different time in my household. There was some heartache that year amongst us and for the first time, my heart felt a piece of home was missing--even though I was there, back in Michigan. I knew that this piece was Asa, and it felt baffling that the holiday just didn't feel quite right without him. I was doing my best at home to be present; to love my parents well and laugh with my brothers. But emotionally, I was absent. I kept picturing Asa there in Kentucky, wondering what he was doing, who he was laughing with, how many hundred cups of coffee he had have. So when he called me Christmas night and told me of some huge news, I was beyond ecstatic. 

Christmas of 2007 was a good year in my family’s house. My siblings were all married, but still made a good effort to be there and to celebrate. My parent’s home was cozy and inviting. Mom is a bit of a nut for Christmas, and we had nine trees decorated all over the house. Christmas carols rang out over the home stereo, cookies and other goodies were constantly being baked or eaten. The door seemed to always be opening to friends and family. In a way, I can’t fully describe it; we were happy, healthy, blessed beyond measure, full of laughter and Christmas spirit, and yet somehow...I was sad. 

In the midst of all the family festivities, I knew Ashley was having a different experience in her home that year. And I knew that she too, needed something else for her heart to feel complete. I took a gamble that I was the missing piece, scraped what little money I had in savings, combined it with the money I got for the holiday, and I purchased a last minute, one way ticket, to Kalamazoo, Michigan for December 26th. It wasn’t Christmas, technically, but it was all I wanted. Love is interesting. I know how much money I had working at the coffee shop part time, so there is no way financially it made sense for me to buy this ticket. Not to mention once I had the ticket, I had no clue what I was going to live on once I got to Michigan, but I guess I didn’t care. Love isn’t logical. It never has been. Love requires action. It’s perhaps the strongest emotion we have, that can sustain us through so many ups and downs, because it can be so fleeting, it must be fought for and clinged too. I got on that airplane, on the 26th, and made it back to my love. That night we privately exchanged gifts in the upstairs room of her parents’ house. The same room just 7 months later I would get down on one knee and make sure forever with her would take place.

As soon as I saw Asa in the airport, I couldn't contain my joy. Walking towards me in a grey sweater and tattered jeans, I fell in love all over again. And while he spent time with me there at home, I would do that many times--fall in love with him that is. From the second he met my parents, there was something about all of them that just clicked. From the beginning, fall 2007, he just fit. He loved my brother Nathan well--reading books and making him laugh. And he and my other brother Sean also hit it off. My mom knew, my dad knew, I knew... and I realized it was only a matter of time before this guy asked me to marry him. Well, seven months later to be exact. Looking back, some things are fuzzy and others more clear, obviously bound to happen with time. But I remember SO clearly, Asa getting down on one knee in the exact same room we exchanged those Christmas gifts. I can still hear the emotional sob my dad accidentally let loose, and my mom downstairs loudly whispering, "Did you get a picture, Terry? Did you GET a picture?!" I immediately wanted to change our Facebook status (I am so lame, guys...) and I texted all of my friends. I have always been a woman who has doubted the good, and suddenly, there it was: the beautiful realization that I would never have a Christmas without this man. 

An odd thing happened the following year. December of 2008 we got married. Prior to the wedding, we set up our apartment, and as every good Glass should, our Christmas tree. I pray I never forget that ratty second hand tree from my mom, or that dark, dingy apartment which was all lit up with twinkling lights. I pray I never forget quietly watching Ashley hang the few ornaments we owned and the way she looked. I set there in awe of the blessing that was starting right there in that very moment. This was our first Christmas together, our first tree, our first everything…and I cried gigantic tears of joy because it was the first of so many more to come. The traditions we have as a family started that year, with a couple of poor kids, so in love with each other that family wasn’t enough, logic couldn’t prevail, without a clue as to what life was going to throw at them. We just knew, in that dark little apartment, among those twinkling lights, love would be enough.

One afternoon during wedding planning my mom called me. "The church can do the end of May 2009 or December 20th of this year," she said. We knew we wanted to get married before the New Year (I desperately needed in-state tuition at the University!!) and beyond that, we didn't want to 'play house' anymore. We wanted to live it. So December 20th it was. As we prepared our first apartment for the holiday and for us living in it together once married, I can still remember his eyes watching me. I was hanging old ornaments and the dogs were on the floor at my feet; in the midst of the lights around the tree I noticed that he was crying. I'll never ever forget the way he lovingly looked at me. As if his entire life, he had been waiting for this moment.

Flash forward a little and my most romantic memories live in that apartment. I reminisce with my friends often, about how we were poor and didn't care. Cheap Chinese takeout and Grey's Anatomy was our Thursday night date, and I loved every second. We laughed, we fought, we cried, we played and we loved. May we never forget the love that bound us together--the early beginnings, the simple traditions, and the legacy we long to build with our now children.