All About MEme: Period

EMMETT UPDATES:

HERE and HERE (with photo)

I cannot thank you enough for the positive thougths, well wishes and prayers sent to my best friend and her little boy!  The surgery went as well as could be expected. He still has a lot of recovery ahead of him, but he is no longer sedated and Missy got to hold him today!

Now, on with the show ...

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Aunt Flo, cousin Red, Sally, ... 

whatever you call her ...

tell us a funny, embarrassing, interesting story 

about your monthly visitor ... 

perhaps your "first" was memorable,

maybe you've got a white pants tale to share,
difficulties with feminine products? (who can relate?)

or if you just need to vent about the severity of your PMS,

that's okay, too ... I guess ... 

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I, my friends, am what's known as a late bloomer. I was sixteen  when I got my period for the first time.  Yes, I had a driver's license before I began menstruating.  How crazy is that?!  

In the fifth grade, my mom took me to some program hosted by the local hospital ... where I learned about ovaries and fallopian tubes and uterial lining ... gross!  I can remember the girls were all made to sit on the floor (huddled together in our embarrassment) while the moms sat in chairs at the back of the room.  The lights were dimmed - ambiance created for two reasons: 1. so we could see the strange images projected on the screen and 2. to provide some camouflage for our flushed cheeks and wide eyes.  It was quite an experience, but at least I left with some idea of what would happen to my body ... one day.  Seems to me this is a conversation a mom could have with her daughter ... not sure why we attended a "class."

In the sixth grade, just about every girl in my class started their period.  (At least that's how it seemed to me.)  It was always so obvious when another of them joined the "club."  Suddenly she would be carrying a little purse ... like a freakin' badge of honor, I tell ya!  By the end of the school year, I was feeling so left out that I, too, began carrying a purse - one that I found in the bottom of my mom's closet.  Yeah, it wasn't cute or small ... but it was a purse and it got noticed and my friends assumed I was having my period ... mission accomplished!  I even went so far as to carry and wear panty liners.  I rustled those little papers like crazy in the stall of the girls restroom!

For the next 4 years, I didn't really think about my period very much.  I finally got to the point of being happy not to have my period ... my friends were all bitching about cramps and tampons and what-not.  And I was like ... huh, that does not sound delightful.  At around age 15, I started thinking something was wrong with me.  But again, it seemed better than having to deal with all that crap once each month.

And then ... it happened ... my first encounter with Aunt Flo was not all that memorable.  Nothing like my friend Missy, who was shoveling snow when she got her first period.  Her mom gave her a pad and sent her right back outside to finish the job ... oh, that story cracks me up!  I remember my "stomach" hurt a little before I went to bed and then she arrived in the morning - not while I was still in bed, thankfully!  What I do remember more than anything else ... later that evening, after spending the day being a big baby about the whole situation, I was ironing a pile of clothes (don't ask - I did a lot of ironing in high school) in my room when my dad got home from work.  I could here a hushed conversation between my parents, and then my dad knocked and came in with this goofy look on his face.  He said something like, "I heard what happened today.  And I just want you to know that I love you."  My cheeks were burning red and I was humiliated and felt so angry at my mom for telling him!  How dare he acknowledge that I "became a woman" today!  When I think back on that now, it seems ridiculous.  I actually wish my parents had been more open about the topic.  Hopefully, Chad and I will do better (or differently) with our girls.  I cannot even think about how traumatized I will be when my daughters go through this!

Not only did I start my period later than any other girl I know, but I also refused to use a tampon until I was about 20 years old.  I had to ask Missy and another friend of ours, Amy, to help me figure out HOW to get that thing in there.  It seemed like such an enigma to me.  I could NOT imagine putting something in my body ... and the thought of retrieving it just about put me over the edge!  But they were both so patient with me, and we laughed ... a lot!  They even did a demonstration of how it "works" using water and the bathroom sink!  When I got home - after several hours had passed - I had to call Amy to have her talk me through getting it out ... and I flipped out when I saw it!  Somehow - after several months of trying -  I managed to get that whole tampon thing figured out ... but I still think about Missy and Amy most every time I use one ;)

Okay, that's enough of my period.  Can't wait to read about yours ... hope I am not the only weirdo!

All About EMMETT

So this All About MEme Monday is not about ME or YOU ...

Instead, I am dedicating this week's meme to a little boy 

who means a lot to me  and he needs your positive thoughts
and prayers this week.

This is my buddy Emmett ... affectionately known as Big E :)

He is the son of my best friend Missy.

He's about a month shy of two and a half years old.

He will melt your heart with deep brown eyes and enviable lashes!

He loves his li-li (a gift from me) and milk from a sippy cup.

He adores dinosaurs and fish and cars and schn-acks!

He is all boy but also sweet as pie.

Today he boarded a plane with his mommy and daddy.
That plane is headed to California, but he is not going on vacation.

 Emmett is going to the Lucile Packard Children's Hospital at Stanford. 

That little - adorable - boy is preparing for his THIRD
open heart surgery on Wednesday of this week.

Hopefully this is the final surgery to correct a heart condition he was born with; it is a rare condition known as Congenitally Corrected Transposition of the Great Arteries (ccTGA or LTGA) and an ebstenoid tricuspid valve. 

I wrote about his first surgery here.

And his second surgery here.

You can read more about Emmett and his heart condition 

at my friend's blog: Rocky Mountain Big Boy

I cannot stop thinking about Emmett and his parents ...
wishing I could be there to support my friend and her little guy,
wishing I could do something to ease their worry, ...
and this is what I came up with ...

I want to wrap this family in love from around the blogosphere.
I've seen it done before and I know it works (dare I say, miracles).
The support of many - even people you don't know - is very powerful.
That's what I want for Emmett and his mommy and daddy right now.

For this week's meme, 

please post this button 
on your blog and link up.

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Please come back here and LINK UP so Missy will know how much LOVE there is for Emmett!

All About MEme: By the Numbers

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By the Numbers

This week use NUMBERS to tell us about yourself ...

I have a "thing" for numbers.  When I look at the clock I think, "Oh, all those numbers are multiples of 12."  Or, "If you add the minutes it equals the hour."  When NHV was born, I was sad that she was born just after midnight ... I went into labor on 7/14/07, which is a great date because 7 x 2 = 14 ... but had her on 7/ 15.  When I rock CJV, I don't stop until the minutes are a multiple of the hour; during the 9 o'clock hour that usually buys me quite a few extra minutes of snuggling.

Most important numbers: 1/10 ... my date-of-birth minus the year because I am already feeling old today.

I am the oldest of 4, which means I have 3 siblings: 2 brothers and 1 sister.  

My parents had decided on 2 children and took precautions to make that "official" ... think snip, snip.  

So it was me and my brother - just 2.5 years apart - and then snip, snip.  And then my sister was born.  Another snip, snip.  And then 12 years (almost to the day) after I was born, my baby brother was born.  Following their 4th child, a snip and a tie took place.

I am Aunt D to 8 nuggets: 4 (soon-to-be 5) on my side and 4 on Chad's side.  My mom has 6 grandchildren plus 1 on the way ... the order is a very definite pattern: boy, girl, boy, girl (NHV), boy, girl (CJV), boy (on the way) ... if my mom has an 8th grandchild, I hypothesize it will be a girl!  My MIL has just 1 boy and 5 girls.  (I find gender and numbers to be so interesting!)

I was married on 7/4/98 - coolest day to have a wedding!  I have been married for ... it will be 12 years!  I have known my husband for more than 1/2 of my life.  We met in high school and dated all through college.

I have lived in 4 states: IL, FL, VA, and WA.

I have lived in 11 different "homes" - 2 different houses with my parents, 2 different dorm rooms and 1 apartment with my BFF (and others),  an apartment in FL, an honest-to-goodness (needed to be condemned) BEACH HOUSE with future husband and 3 other guys, cute little house, another apartment, our first home (purchase), and the house we live in now ... that's 11, right?

I am mommy of 2 girls.

I've owned 4 cars.  

We currently have 1 television in our house.

We have 1 cat.

blog posts you've written: 497 (just 3 shy of 500!)

email messages in your inbox: 116 (ridiculous, I know)

friends on Facebook: 291 (had to go look - had no idea)

photos stored on your computer: 16,000 (just guessing because I am not on my laptop)

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Okay, I've been writing for 21 minutes ... and CJV is up from her nap ... already!

Can't wait to visit you later today and find out YOUR NUMBERS!

All About MEme: What's in your bag?

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All About MEme is our weekly chance to ...

A) think about the ME in the world

B) reveal parts of our personality, past, and passions

C) get to know each other, meet new bloggers, share some comment love

D) all of the above

If you answered D, you are one smart cookie!

Please join me and my friends for All About MEme Monday!

Literally.  Quite simply.

Spill the contents of your purse.  

Take a photo.  

Make a list of what's inside.

Explain if you want or let the evidence speak for itself.

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My bag is actually a  little lighter than usual because I made a trip to Target sans kiddos during naptime today ... and ditched the changing pad and extra outfits.

Speaking of Target, that cute bag down there - bright blue, big handles, one big section in the middle with two long sections behind each handle and small pockets on each end - came from Target ... and it only set me back $24.99.  I decided the second time around I didn't want to carry a traditional "diaper bag," and I love this bag - it's working great for me and my two girls!

• There's my cute little "owl" change purse full of credit cards, a few gift cards, and very little cash.  
• My keys with library card attached.
• Shopping list and receipt from today's Costco trip.
• Zippered pouch with extra contacts, eye drops, hand sanitizer, lip gloss, lotion, bandaids, ...
• My Hooter Hider - I love this thing!  It gives me some privacy while breastfeeding, works as a sun shade on the stroller or carrier, and can be used as a blanket if need be.
• Totally random orange Matchbox car.
• Deck of Sesame Street cards for reviewing colors and shapes
• Pink plastic bag dispenser - for those really stinky diapers
• Large Ziploc with diapers and wipes.
• Former baby food container - now binky holder ... but it's empty - never good to be without an emergency Soothie!
• Small Snapware container with snacks inside: fruit leather, yogurt bites, and a granola bar

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Sidenote: I will be traveling with the girls next week - we'll be busy visiting 
lots of family and friends, so I anticipate being off the grid to some extent.

  
I am looking for an All About MEme host for next week.  

Yes, all this ... can be yours!

Let me know if you're interested :)
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All About MEme: Teacher Tribute

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I spent more than half my life in school ... as a student.

And another 10 years as a classroom teacher.

It only seems fitting that I make some effort to celebrate

Teacher Appreciation Week (May 3 - 7).

What better way to celebrate than assigning some homework?

Take a little stroll down memory lane ...

all the way back to the hollowed halls ...

of your school years - the days of raising your hand, 

taking tests, and making the grade ;)

Tell us about the teacher(s) who made a difference in your life.

Make it a list or a story - your choice!

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As a teacher myself, I have mad love for this noblest of professions.  I know how hard teachers work - the extra hours, the concern for students, the dealings with parents, ... it is not an easy job.  I have been so fortunate to have many fantastic teachers ...

The dream begins with a teacher who believes in you, who tugs and pushes and leads you to the next plateau, sometimes poking you with a sharp stick called "truth."  ~Dan Rather

Kindergarten - Mrs. P - I have a very vivid memory of you tracing my profile for an art project.  I'm pretty sure my mom still has that black paper / chalk outline tucked in a box somewhere.  I also remember that you wore a wig; I saw the tag and asked my mom about it.  
1st Grade - Mrs. F - You didn't make me feel ashamed when I had an accident ... sitting right in my desk ... just after the entire class had returned from a bathroom break.  I didn't go during that break because Jenny S. never went, which meant she was always first in line on the walk back.  I so desperately wanted to be first!  What did it get me?  Wet pants and some embarrassment ... so not worth it!  Lesson learned.
2nd Grade - Mrs. B - You told the best stories!  Didn't even need a book to read from; you just wove this fantastic tales right from your own imagination, and told them with a whole cast of voices.
3rd Grade - Mrs. Mc - Oh, the devastation of failing.  Those darn times tables provided my first experience with that getting a "D" on a paper.  I was crushed.  I cried - a lot.  You took me to the hall, and with such caring and kindness, made me own my mistake ... which somehow made it better.  I also remember your fiery - always just a little disheveled - red hair.
4th Grade - Mrs. S - You were the epitome of calmness.  I knew I could come to you with any problem - large or small (Who am I kidding?  They were all small in 4th grade!) - and you would listen and understand and help me find a solution.
5th Grade - Ms. B - We called you Mrs. Battleship behind your back.  I always wondered if you knew that?  You were a first-class grouch.  You prided yourself on making students feel lousy.  You inspired me to be the kind of teacher you were not.  And, let me tell you, I was an awesome 5th grade teacher!
6th Grade - Mrs. L - I really, really wanted YOU to be my mom.  No offense to my own mom, but I just adored Mrs. L.  You had a contagious smile and a love for science!  This was one of my best years in school.

Up to this point, I went to school at a small Catholic School.  My parents made the decision to transfer my brother and I to public school, and I was not happy about it.

7th Grade - Mr. C - You were my first experience with a male teacher ... and you were cute.  I was so confused!  This was also the first year that math became interesting.  I remember the time I had an awful case of the hiccups during class (probably had something to do with sitting in the front room so near a cute male teacher) and you - playfully - slammed your hand on the desk and said, "Stop hiccuping!"  I was mortified but then you filled the room with your great laugh and the whole class joined in.
8th Grade - Mr. A - Another male teacher; this one not good-looking, but unbelievable GOOD at teaching science.  I learned so much.  I was challenged.  I looked forward to his class everyday.

From middle school onto high school ... where I met my husband ... and worried more about my friends than my teachers ...

HS - Mrs. A - I took three years of you Spanish class.  But I learned so much more than another language from you.  You had such high expectations for your students, which earned you the reputation of being a really tough  teacher.  I worked really hard for your class and  respected you for holding us to your standards ... but most importantly, for helping us to achieve our potential.  You made time for every student and you built a community of learners in your classroom.  If I had to choose just one - please don't make me - the prestigious award of all-time favorite teacher would go to you, Mrs. A.  (which strikes me as kind of funny because my husband did not like this teacher - at all!)

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All About ME: Jealous Much?

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Jealousy is not a pretty emotion.  

But I think it's fair to say that we all succumb 

to its power every now-and-then.  

We're only human, right?

Are you ... jealous much?

What makes you green with envy?

What makes your green-eyed monster break free 

and bare its teeth for all to see?

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What better way to start a post about jealousy
than with a little PCD's Don't Cha?

Don't cha wish your baby was bald like mine?

Don't cha wish your butt was flat like mine?

Don't cha?  Don't cha?

Don't cha wish your family lived in another state?

Don't cha wish your cooking skills were not-so-great?

Don't cha?  Don't cha?

I was bald as a baby. My babies are bald.  I simple adore babies with a big head of hair.  I go absolutely ga-ga over a baby 'fro, sweet blond curls, or a wild and spiky dark 'do.  If you're under one and have enough hair to style, I am jealous of you and your lucky mama, too!  If you ever see me standing near a baby with tons of hair, check my hands.  I have to clasp them together to keep from running my fingers through those  luscious locks - an action most new mamas are not real keen on, btw ;)

My butt is darn near non-existent.  Again, this is genetic.  My mom's rear end IS non-existent (love you, Mom!).  The only time I've come close to having a little junk in my trunk ... I took ice skating lessons ... as an adult ... for like three years.  Even now - with a little meat on my post-baby bones - the booty still lacks shape.  There's just no ooooomph!  I dream of the day I can fill out a pair of AppleBottom Jeans ... either that or I need to convince my boy Nelly to start a new line called BottomsFlattened.  To those of you who are booty-licious, I hate you ... just a little.

I live more than 2,000 miles from my parents and family.  If you have parents living within driving distance, you better count your lucky stars, feel blessed, not take them for granted.  I miss my family just about every single day.  I haven't been "home" since December 2008 - mainly because of my complicated pregnancy.  My dad doesn't fly, but he's driven 4,400 miles round-trip twice since we moved here.  My mom overcame her fear of traveling alone and visits a few times each year.  CPV and I haven't had a date night - in a very long time - but if I knew a grandparent could come watch the girls, that would be much different.  When I hear friends talk about holiday plans and birthday celebrations with family, I might as well be the witched witch of the West ... that's how green I feel!

Cooking is really not my thing.  I can follow a recipe, but it rarely looks like the photo.  I find it to be a waste of time ... prep, cook, serve, devour, clean, ... it's such an inefficient process.  Those of you who enjoy cooking and make it look easy, I envy you ... A LOT.  Not enough to learn how to be a better cook.  But enough to befriend you and make sure I get invited to all your delightful dinner parties ;)

And I'll leave you with this ... just look at all that hair!

What makes you green with envy?

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My apologies for the late link-up, especially for those of you on the east coast. CJV had other plans for me tonight ... those of you with babies who fell right to sleep tonight, yeah, I am jealous!

All About MEme: Wine Me, Dine Me, ...

Oh, goodness, that title has me *blushing* ...
and it really has only a little to do with my story ...
but hopefully it grabbed your attention and has you ...
scrollin' for more ... oh, yeah, baby, you know you want it!

with MommyBrain and SupahMommy

 

GUESS who's coming to dinner????

We are!

SORT OF  ... kind of... 

We want to sit down, have some wine ... or several bottles 

and listen to you whine or gloat about your :

WORST DINNER EXPERIENCE

or 

YOUR BEST DINNER EXPERIENCE

or  maybe even

WHAT you would make us for dinner if we came to your house? 

We don't care.  Just feed us while you talk. 

I know, how about this?

For all of you creative souls out there: Write us a story!  

We get to be the main characters of course:  did you not notice our big heads?    

 Supah and MB came to visit:  and this is how it went down. 

 You pick the dinner prompt that works for you ! 

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Imagine a quaint little Italian restaurant.  Dim lighting.  The smell of garlic wafting through the air. Red-and-white checkered tablecloth covering the table.  The table for two.  I'm meeting a friend.  A seriously funny, ridiculously kind friend.  A friend I met - while teaching elementary school - something like 10 years ago.  That's right, Supah - I know her as Debby (yes, with a y) - invited me to a little sit-down.  I could tell from her tweet that something was up (just like Supah to extend an invitation over Twitter, huh?).  I wasn't about to pass up the chance to share a meal with her.  Who am I kidding, she doesn't really like to share, but I needed a night out like a fish needs water.  

Giddy with anticipation, I waved off the annoying hostess and made my way to the table where Supah was already waiting for me.  Her face lit up when she saw me, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes.  I could tell something was weighing heavily on her mind.  There was an awkwardness to our conversation that I had not expected.  I sipped my wine (it was probably more like a guzzle) and wondered why Supah had invited me to such a fancy dinner.  As I reached for a piece of bread from the basket sitting between us (oh, how I love my carbs), Debby's eyes met mine ... the look said everything.  The news would be bad.  

Supah broke the silence and said, "Dana dear, I'm breaking up with you I'm going to be handing over Monday MEme to you."  She said more, but devastation was ringing in my ears.  I heard only bits and pieces, "streamlining, making moolah, sending my peeps."  None of it made sense.  None of it mattered. 

In my head, thoughts were swirling ... Supah was my first.  We lost our meme-hosting virginity together.  I thought that meant something.

I needed to clear my head.  To regain my composure.  What better way to do that than finishing off this glass of wine.  And then I played back all the good times ... our first meme, the dingo references, the stories we've told, how we made each other LOL with our silly PhotoShopping skillz, all the fantastic bloggers we've met on Mondays, ...

I was crushed, no doubt about it.  But I also realized that  big-hearted Supah  didn't make this decision lightly.  She is one of the hardest working mamas I know, and if she's lightening her load, it's with good reason. I also figured no sense ruin the evening , I told her not to worry about it, ordered another glass of wine, and looked for the most expensive entree on the menu.  I made sure I was in the restroom when the bill came and left Supah to pay for our meal. (Who's laughin' now, sucka?)

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Certain details of the above story are pure fiction.  Like the part about Supah and I sitting down in the same restaurant - how I wish that were true, but we live on opposite coasts.  And me drinking multiple glasses of wine - I'd be fall down drunk and I loathe pumping and dumping.  But the overall message is quite true.  

All About MEme Monday is now a MommyBrain exclusive (which is a really positive spin on the fact that Supah dumped us).  But that's okay; a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.  All About MEme Mondays will continue ... as long as YOU want it.

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All About MEme Prompt - Dinner Time!

with MommyBrain and SupahMommy

 

GUESS who's coming to dinner????

We are!

SORT OF  ... kind of... 

We want to sit down, have some wine ... or several bottles 

and listen to you whine or gloat about your :

WORST DINNER EXPERIENCE

or 

YOUR BEST DINNER EXPERIENCE

or  maybe even

WHAT you would make us for dinner if we came to your house? 

We don't care.  Just feed us while you talk. 

I know, how about this?

For all of you creative souls out there: Write us a story!  

We get to be the main characters of course:  did you not notice our big heads?    

 Supah and MB came to visit:  and this is how it went down. 

 You pick the dinner prompt that works for you ! 

You know how this works? Write a post. 

Come back on Monday and Link up with us!

All About MEme: WORD!

with MommyBrain and SupahMommy

 

inspired by our friend Shell

and a funny story that MommyBrain can't wait to tell :)

What is YOUR WORD?

a WORD or CATCH PHRASE that you made up 

or stole borrowed 

or adapted or whatever

a WORD or CATCH PHRASE that you say all the time, 

use in an unusual way, 

makes you laugh  or feel clever.

a WORD or CATCH PHRASE that you've redefined

or that has come to mean something different 

because of your kids or your job

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You've arrived at the "C" section of the MommyBrain New Word Dictionary ...

Chottie - [cha-tee] - noun - origin: dorm room, the college years

1. female body part; area covered by your danties
2. roommate, friend

My chotties took me out to a local bar for my first PCCC (Post Chottie Check Celebration).  *Chottie Check refers to an exam in which a doctor (or nurse practitioner) takes a peek under the hood.

La-tee-da-tee, we likes to party.  Leave a message for your favorite chottie. *True story --> We recorded that as our answering machine message!

After giving birth, my chottie was all yottie-yottie. *If you gave birth naturally, you know what I'm saying!

I have no idea how this got started.  Nor do I know why it can be used in such a varied way.  But I do know that my college friends (my chotties) and I still use it today.

Crack-ccess - [krak-ses′] - noun - origin: bathroom while bathing toddler

1. the privilege of gaining access to a butt crack for cleaning purposes

While changing a poopy diaper, momma needs a little crack-ccess to make sure there aren't any stinky remnants.

During bath time, I have to ask my daughter for crack-ccess, and use the wash cloth to clean those stinky creases!

CUD - [kud] - abbr. Clean Up Duty - origin: early married life

1. responsibility for cleaning up the kitchen after dinner has been prepared and eaten.


If I make dinner, my husband does CUD.  *That's how we roll up in har!

This has been a sampling of words I've made up or used for a new purpose.  Making up words is a habit of mine, and I am so looking forward to gaining a few new ones during this week's MEme!

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All About MEme - Love Language

with MommyBrain and SupahMommy

 

What's your LOVE LANGUAGE? 
suggested by our friend ...




THANK YOU

"What if you could say or do just the right thing guaranteed to make that special someone feel loved? The secret is learning the right love language! Millions of couples have learned the simple way to express their feelings and bring joy back into marriage: The Five Love Languages, Dr. Gary Chapman’s New York Times bestseller! Words of Affirmation—Actions don’t always speak louder than words. If this is your love language, unsolicited compliments mean the world to you. Hearing the words, “I love you,” are important—hearing the reasons behind that love sends your spirits skyward. Insults can leave you shattered and are not easily forgotten."  from 5lovelanguages.com

Make a guess.  Which do you think is your Love Language?

Words of Affirmation

Quality Time

Receiving Gifts

Acts of Service

Physical Touch

Find out if your guess is right. 

Take this assessment quiz and tell us the results!
http://www.5lovelanguages.com/assessments/
There are two to choose from.
One takes 30 seconds,  one takes about 3 minutes.

See what they tell you about yourself! Then TELL US!
Was it different than you expected?
Did you test your mate? Let us know!

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Prepare to be a tiny bit envious ...

I've been in love for half my life.  With the same man.

A man who vacuums once a week,
cleans the toilets when I ask,
empties the (ridiculously foul) litter box,
folds laundry on occasion (but doesn't hang up my shirts),
never leaves his dirty clothes on the floor,
cleans the kitchen - we have an "I cook, You clean" policy,
changes poopy diapers (he's good at weaseling out of this one),
gives baths and read bedtime stories,
let's me sleep in on the weekends,
spends five hours detailing my car as a Mother's Day gift,
makes breakfast for dinner (his speciality), ...

Now, that's my kind of man!  
I know that I am lucky.  I also know that I am loved.


That list proves that my husband best communicates his love through
Acts of Service, which happens to be my primary love language, too.

From The 5 Love Languages website: Can vacuuming the floors really be an expression of love? Absolutely! Anything you do to ease the burden of responsibilities weighing on an “Acts of Service” person will speak volumes. The words he or she most want to hear: “Let me do that for you.” Laziness, broken commitments, and making more work for them tell speakers of this language their feelings don’t matter.

I guess I am in the mindset that actions definitely speak louder than words.  Considering the fact that CPV is a man of very few words, it seems that's a very good thing.  I love being taken care of and I love taking care of him, in return.  We both need tidiness and organization in our lives in order to function. Chores - done well  - make me feel loved.  He takes the time to do what needs to be done, and he does it right. More than anything, I love knowing that we're a team.  I know I can count on him to help when I need it - and to offer even when I don't.  

Now, does this translate to passion in other arenas of our relationship (*wink*wink*)?  Not so much.  Are chores sexy?  Not likely.  But that's where other languages, Words of Affirmation and Personal Touch, come into play.  I love being pulled into a hug or having his arms wrapped around from behind as I am cooking at the stove or holding his hand while riding in the car or on a walk or curling up next to him (with my cold feet) in bed at night.  

We also have hundreds of letters that we've written through the course of our courtship (love that old fashioned word) and marriage.  We aren't as good about writing them anymore, but we have gone back and read them. The written word (from a man who tends to be pretty quiet) is quite affirming :)  Both of us are much better at giving compliments than receiving them.

Interestingly, but not surprisingly, CPV took the quiz, too, and found that his love language preference ranks pretty much the same as mine!

So, what's your Love Language?  What did you learn about your relationship?

Sidenote:  The book is worth reading.  I've read it a few times and each time I learn something new and gain an appreciation for the way love is communicated.

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Friday Follow & All About MEme Prompt

I hear all the cool kids are doing it, and well, I've always wanted to be cool kid. The word on the street is that Friday Follow is a great way to find blogs you can't believe you ever lived without and, in the process, gain a few more followers yourself. All that and the fact that there are three $100 prizes up for grabs.

Yep, that's enough motivation for me!



Sponsored by:

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As long as you're here ... check out our All About MEme prompt for Monday!
 

with MommyBrain and SupahMommy

 

What's your most favorite part of your home?  

Is it a special reading nook?

Is it the broom closet you hide in ?

Is it your drawer pulls in the kitchen that took 34 years to re-do? 

Is it your deck on a summer night? 

Show us in a picture and tell us in words.

What's your most favorite part of your home. 

What makes you smile. 

Come back on Monday and Link up with us!

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I'm a Publishing Mom!

You can do it, too. Just ask me how! 

Don't miss this great work-from-home opportunity!

All About MEme: a jelly tragedy

with MommyBrain and SupahMommy

THIS ONE is inspired by a conversation between Kmama and Supah!
 

We're calling this one ... 

I MUST Have It Monday. 

Today's All About MEme is not actually about ME. (Well, I do provide a few bits of commentary ... because I can't help it, and it is MY blog, after all!)

It's about her ... (younger, hotter, sassier, ... related to me)

This week - after seeing Supah's delightful prompt - I quickly contacted my my little sister (via Facebook - that's a guaranteed way to get a response) and coerced her into guest blogging because ...

• she's awesome and adorable and agreeable - I just know you all would love her!
• she's too busy with three kiddos - including two boys who might as well be Irish Twins - to have a blog of her own, although it would be the fantastic!
• she's a good writer but doesn't often make the time to write (without a little prodding from me)
• and most importantly, 

she has a great story about ...

Jelly Shoes

 (in case you don't know the jelly shoe)

I was all of 3 years old. Actually, "I used to be 3 but now I'm 2," or so I told everyone at Disney so proudly.  My parents - being the money savvy couple that they are - saw a golden opportunity not to have to pay admission for me. Go, mom and dad! A decision that led to much confusion about my age for several years after ;)  (I remember feeling guilty about lying to the nice Disney people; I was sure we were going to get into trouble for that little white lie ... Mickey was going to track us down and boot us out with his unnaturally large feet!)

So back to the jelly shoes. All I wanted was a pair of jelly shoes. I begged, I pleaded for those plastic shoes.

I mean who wouldn't want jelly shoes? They were like walking on little clouds of gel yet they weren't restrictive to your feet due to their clever sandal design. (She really just wanted them because they were pink and sparkly ... as any three year old would.)

After wanted those jellies for what seemed like forever (it was probably a few days, but to a three year old - that's an eternity), my mom decided I needed a new pair of shoes for our family trip.  We were headed to Disney World and our first time seeing the ocean ... aka 16 hours both ways in a car with 2 parents and 3 kids.. (Yeah, and we were traveling in a MacDaddy motor home from Illinois to Florida!)  Anyway, there they were on the shelf (at Dollar General?*) in their perfect jelly molded splendiferous-ness (nice word, sis!). I slid my foot into them and it was a perfect match from then on out. (Did it remind you of Cinderella?)

The story takes a dark turn after this...please bare with me as this is an emotionally scarring childhood memory. (and this is why I wanted her to tell this story!)

Fast forward the hours of driving ... we arrive at the beach. My first time at the beach ever. We excitedly hop out of the car and dash toward the water. The warm sand squished between my toes and through my beloved jelly shoes. My older sister (Hey, that's me!) and brother got to the water and splash around. I was a little scared so I stayed back...inching my way closer and closer to the water.

At last I got close enough for the waves to splash onto my feet. Ahhhh! I must be the luckiest kid in the world right now I thought to myself! (Mainly because her big sister was/is the bomb diggety!)

Feeling a little braver, I ventured out a bit further into the waves. Maybe just a foot too far because the next wave crashed into me knocking me fall flat on my hiney (What a cute hiney it was/is!). The next wave rushed on top of me and as I stood up and retreated toward safer ground, I felt something wasn't right.

I looked down at my feet. NO! NO! NO! This couldn't be happening to me.

One of my jellies - the ones I had begged and pleaded for my mom to buy for me - GONE. Sucked off of my little foot by the undertow. Forever lost to the sea. It was a jelly tragedy.  (followed by a huge freakin' tantrum, if memory serves me correctly!)

But I cherish what short time that I had with my jellies (and seeing the ocean was pretty cool, too, right?).  And I must say that since they are coming back in style now I may just have to get my daughter a pair.  (There's nothing quite like living vicariously through your own offspring!)

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Thank you, little sis, for agreeing to share your story ... and for allowing me the liberty of adding my own personal thoughts on your childhood memories.  I love you, Laura!

* as a sidenote and a shout-out to my younger brother, Randy ... don't want to start sibling rivalry up in here ... we once made up a song about the cheap shoes my mom bought for us, and it went a little something like this ... the creativity is almost as astounding as the fact that I still remember this stupid song ...

Those shoe.  Those shoes

Those Dollah General shoes.

They scream.  They hollah!

They only cost one dollah!

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Now it's time to provide us with hours of reading and commenting enjoyment ... link up!