Saturday, January 26, 2013

Five Months.

My husband is incredible. And I am certain that I do not let him know this enough. 

He is my constant support, my lifeline, my lover, and my true best friend. 

He is there every day, all day. ...Well unless he's busy doing something else. 

He listens to everything I talk about, even though I sure he would rather zone out.

He wipes away my tears. Holds me when I am upset. And kisses me when I need it the most.

He plans for our future and makes the best decisions he can now in order to have a stronger family in the future. 

He talks about our future kids. Our home. And our retirement.

He helps me to find the silver lining when life is full of gray clouds. 

He fills even our most difficult times with strength. 

He makes me laugh until it hurts. 

He keeps our marriage full of joy. 

He strives to let me know I am his one and only. 

His love for me is genuine and pure. 

And he makes me feel like i am the object of his school boy crush.

My heart flutters, my knees go weak, and my breath is taken away constantly by him. 

I have truly found the one whom my soul loves. 

I love you more than the sun, and the moon, and the stars in the sky, Lorran. 

You may love me more, but I will always love you most. 

Happy 5 month wedding anniversary, baby. 

Monday, January 7, 2013


One of my besties recently bought me a tasty bottle of Blue Sky Rocky Comfort Red. It's by far one of my favorite wines, and I have been saving it since before Christmas. So after a long day of being a woman, she and I decided to have a well-earned glass.

My hubs left my good corkscrew at someone's house a while ago, and all I have is a few crappy ones.

And that is where our adventure begins.

After struggling for a bit, the corkscrew snapped right off.

So we attempted to get the other corkscrew in and give it another go... 
That didn't work so well for us either. 

Two corkscrews laid down their lives... which left us asking, "What next?"
What do you think? Pliers!

We tugged, yanked, bent, and twisted until finally....

The cork snapped in half.

That didn't stop us though... We got out the knives and got to digging. 

And, after much effort, we had a breakthrough! ...Literally

And as you know, there is nothing worse than having cork chunks in your wine.... 
So we got out the strainer! 

A glass well deserved! 


Saturday, January 5, 2013

New Year, New You? The Road to Embracing My Curves

Within the past few months my Twitter usage has increased greatly. But I recently realized I was following way too many Skinny This and Skinny That accounts. It was really starting to bring me down to the point of being miserable with myself again. Thankfully, God has a way of snapping your perspective though. Through a simple comment from my husband, my mind did a 180.

He was holding me one night and whispered in my ear, "You're body is so soft." Instantly, my guard was up, and I was completely offended. I wanted to cry. I felt gross and awful. I could think of no more hideous description than to be "soft." I wanted to say, "You mean huge?"  but something stopped me. Instead I replayed his comment in my mind. It's delicate tone and endearment were laced together to not create an insult, but a compliment.

Soft? A compliment? You mean, you like this body? It struck me so deeply. Typically, the thousands of times my husband compliments me are tossed to the side, only quickly to be replaced with my own opinions of myself.

As many of you know, body image has been a major struggle in my life since junior high. I was relentlessly picked on in middle school and have forever hated every ounce of my body. And not just my weight- I permed my naturally almost straight hair three times, I wore non-persciption color contacts for three years, and I was desperate to be beautiful.

High school hit, and I lost control of everything. At some point during my sophomore year I began experimenting with bulimia. It was short-lived, and I was soon "healed." That lasted about a year, and by the end of my senior year I was consistently purging. However, God is bigger than my control, and I  was able to re-reach that point of healing. But like most people who use/do something to escape I relapsed in college. During my freshman year it was only for a short period of time, but during my sophomore year I lost control entirely. I was frantic over it, so in a desperate attempt to have God bring me through, I believed He could heal me. I started running in the evenings and began being incredibly conscious of my food intake. I strived to eat guilt-free portions and foods, and at the first sign of purging, I went running.

Compared to my high school self, I lost a tremendous amount of weight. I felt incredible. I was by no means small, but I was much, much smaller than I had been. And for the first time, bulimia was not a part of the picture, nor has it been since. Praise Jesus!

But then true love enters your life, and suddenly you are going out to eat, having dessert frequently, and not caring about your weight whatsoever because you have a man who loves, loves, loves your curves.
Now don't get me wrong, that's all fine and dandy until the scale numbers creep up and your jeans don't fit. Then what do you do? I know I need to start working out and eating healthy, but I also know that I have love myself where I am before I make improvements. Reason being, I don't want to hate myself the entire journey to my destination.

It's like going on a road trip from New York to LA. Do you really want to be thinking, "Wow. New York City is terrible. It's ugly and gross and awful. I just want to be in LA." Then as you drive down the coast, through the Smokey Mountains, up to Mt. Rushmore, and across wheat fields, painted deserts, and through the Rockies, do you really want to hate the entire view because it isn't LA? No! That's absurd! You are going to love the trip! Buy souvenirs, celebrate landmarks, take tons of pictures, go nice and slow to enjoy the ride.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is going be my perspective of myself.

I am going to love my now size 16 curves, maybe even be a little sad to leave them. I'll then stop to appreciate them as they narrow to 14, will admire when they measure at a size 12, and be look back with joy of the journey as I reach my destination, which in this case is unkown. The best part? I have a fantastic husband who will love every bit of the trip, even if it means taking a rest in-between or even going back to revisit a stop.

And as for Twitter? I ditched those Skinny gals. I searched me up some Curvy Fashionistas and am following a great blog (found here) on embracing your curves.

So take that body image, your fat butt mindset has just been booted out by my voluptuous positivity.