Happily Ever After...

If you haven't read Part I , Part II, or Part III, check it out before reading this post. Nobody like a spoiled ending!

When I was a little girl, I never wanted to be a doctor, banker, or ballerina.  My dream was clear.  At a very young age, I knew that I wanted to be a wife and mother (of 12 to be exact).  As crazy as it sounds, I daydreamed about driving a 15 passenger van, doing the laundry, and having dinner on the table when my husband came home from work.  I have no idea where that dream came from but it is clearly written on my heart.

When P and I met all those years ago, I had found the other piece of my puzzle.  Whether you call it a gut feeling, inspiration of the Holy Spirit, or just plain intuition, I knew he was the one.   I had fought for his heart since the day we met. I refused to settle for anything less than who I knew he was created to be and I refused to let myself by tarnished by fear, temptations, and outside pressures. 

When he proposed, it was like hitting the last mile of a marathon. We were almost there. Our forever was about to begin.  We had no idea where this life was going to take us but we knew that we were up for the adventure as long as we were together.

When our big day came, we were ready.  Besides the dress, the party, and our loved ones, we were ready to be married.  We stood in awe that this was our reality.  How is it possible for two teenagers, from opposite parts of the country, to meet, keep in touch, and then eventually get married.  It was crazy! 

We had so much fun at our wedding!  We laughed, we cried, we danced, and enjoyed the company of our family and friends.  The knowledge that the dating, the distance, the phone calls, and the traveling were over was almost surreal.  At the end of the day, I was going to get in the car with P and we were going to fly out TOGETHER. 

Our happily ever after had come true.  We had a plan.  Little did we know that in the first year of our marriage we'd have a deployment, a pregnancy, and a move to Naples, Italy...not exactly what one would call the 'honeymoon' stage.

Finding Common Ground

I'm exhausted.  My emotions are just barely under the surface just waiting to come out.  I am overwhelmed, uncomfortable, and irritable.  One would think that when your spouse comes home, life would get easier.  The physical aspect of my day has gotten easier but the emotional side has spun out of control. 

I remember the day that P left, I felt so empowered.  I felt like I was superwoman ready to conquer the world!  I was going to shatter any doubts that people had in our ability to succeed during the next 6.5 months.

What I didn't know was that I was going to have a good friend murdered, another friend pass away, and an earthquake.  P and I went to dinner the other night and for the first time, I got to tell him, face to face, about Shannon's funeral.  What it was like to receive that call.  The sucker punch that I felt that night.  I told him about watching her casket pass by my pew as I imagined my friend laying in that box.  I told him about her brother's eulogy as he so painfully stood up to tell us about his little sister and how thankful I was that my big brother was there to hold my hand.  I told him about watching one of my dearest friends carry her to her resting place and how we stood at her grave until she was covered with dirt.  He saw my tears for the first time.

What was crazy was that in that moment, his eyes showed the same pain as he told me,

"I know, Jeanne, I know." 

He lost his own friends in Afghanistan.  He watched as pure evil took the life of his friend who would soon become a father.  What do you say in that moment?  P knew the pain that would be injected upon that his family within hours and all he could was sit there with it.

As glamorous as the homecoming is, it is hard.  It is very hard.  I go back and forth between pure joy and confusion.  With confusion comes a great deal of guilt.  Why am I not over the moon and happy all the time???  I feel lost in my own world trying to grasp some sense of control.  I feel disconnected from the man who is trying so hard to live up to every possible expectation.  I am trying to figure it out but I feel like I am sinking.  I know with time, we will get back into a groove, but for now, I will just be thankful for those moments of connection between us.  Those times when we can find common ground between the independent lives that we have been leading.

A Real Love Story...

If you are joining me for your first Common Sense Wife post, make sure to read Part I and Part II of my story.  It's pretty awesome (in my humble opinion...haha).

I still remember it vividly, my mom and I were in Washington D.C. on a college visit. 

That was where I learned to always ask for a corner hotel room...they are always bigger!  :-)

We had driven 2 hours outside of the city to check out the prospective school.  Upon arrival, I immediately knew that it wasn't right.  We didn't even get out of the car.  I asked my mom to turn around and take us back to the city.  It was there, at the hotel, that I got the phone call.

He was coming.

I jumped around our corner hotel room like a 13 year old at a backstreet boys concert!  The excitement that I experienced was unlike anything I had ever felt.  This was it.  It was finally happening!!!

Although my mom and I were close, the year had been a tough one for both of us.  She knew about P but we had never really talked about how important he was to me.  She was a little standoffish at the thought of him, a 20 year old Navy Sailor, flying in to take her only daughter to prom.  It seemed odd.  I did my best to share my excitement but knew that screaming,

"I'm going to marry this boy!!!"

might not go over well.  So, I kept my excitement contained to prom.  My parents were troopers because, at 17 years old, they allowed me to explore this relationship.  Well, April came, he flew in, and the connection was IMMEDIATE.  (Keep in mind this was only the second time we'd seen each other since meeting each other at 13 years old.)  I was in heaven. 

We got dressed up, took pictures, and off we drove in my mom's Cadillac (we're cool like that) to my prom.  Honestly, I don't remember a whole lot about prom besides thinking that I wished we would have just gone out to a nice dinner alone and realizing that this boy, the love of my life, could. NOT. dance!!!

Well, the weekend came to an end and it was at the airport that we finally discussed it.  We were officially boyfriend/girlfriend!  That determination was also followed up with something along the lines of, 'and we'll get married in a couple of years.'

Over the course of the next two years, we spent our time flying back and forth between Georgia and California and getting through a 7 month deployment.  Although my parents were not against my relationship, they couldn't quite grasp it.  When asked about it, the only way I could explain our relationship was,

"My entire life I prayed to have a friend who loved me as much as I loved them.  For someone who was just as excited to have me as I was to have them.  He does and we have so much fun.  He's my best friend."

Then, in May 2006, it happened.  On California's beautiful coast, he got down on a knee and asked me to be his wife.  As much as I loved him in that moment, I had no clue that my love would grow exponentially and of the adventure that we were about to embark on...

A Budding Friendship

Make sure you've read Part I of my husband and I's story.

If you already have, lets keep going.

After P and I met on October 29th, 1999, something inside of me was forever changed.  At the young age of 13, I knew he was the one God had planned for me.  Now, I had years of figuring out how to make it work and protecting both of our hearts enough to still see that when we were of age.

It all started so simply.  His first e-mail to me was an e-card using words like 'Howdy and ya'll' and a giant picture of a cowgirl.  I guess he was intriqued by the fact that I was from Georgia?  From that day on, our friendship just grew.  We had the same sense of humor and strange draw to each other.  We e-mailed for a few months before somehow connecting on the phone.  By this time, I had found out that he had just started 'dating' a girl.  At the time, I was so disappointed but looking back now, I am so thankful for their relationship.  Their parents were so good about teaching them the proper way to approach dating.  It was the truest definition of 'courting' I have ever watched.

Over the course of the next few years, we kept talking and talking and talking.  He became my best buddy.  I remember hanging up with him one day and thinking,

"I know why I love Paul so much!  He always makes me belly laugh!" 

We had so much fun!

This is from his visit.

Then, during the summer before my 10th grade year, I decided to attend a boarding school.  Before I left, I asked my mom and dad if he could come down to Georgia and visit.  It must have been nothing short of divine intervention, because at 15 and 17 years old, both of our parents agreed.  He rode a bus...for 25 hours just to see ME.  

That week, I recieved my first kiss.

At the movie theater watching 'America's Sweetheart's during the helicopter scene.  Not that I remember or anything.

As cheesy as this sounds, I remember being so relieved that he had gotten MY first kiss.  I didn't want it to go to just anybody...

After a few days, I got kind of tired of him because he kept trying to kiss me!  Not in any weird way but I had never even kissed a boy and I just wasn't there yet.  Anyways, by the end of his visit, I was ready for him to go and so was he (I think his mom still might hold a little grudge for that one...haha). 

I left for my boarding school, calling him every so often, but because of the harbored frustration, we kind of went our seperate ways for a bit.  After a few months, I decided to come home and go back to my normal high school.  Somewhere in there, we got back in touch, and our friendship started back up where it left off...just good buddies.

At this point, he was dating a new girl...that I wasn't particularly fond of.  I knew she threatened my goal of protecting his heart and I wasn't going to stand for it.  Over the course of the next few years, while they dated, I made sure to stay as close as possible.  I wasn't going to let this girl have influence over the man that I knew he was. 

Unfortuantely, he did start making some less than ideal decisions...nothing big, but not what I could stand by and watch, so I let him go.  I remember writing him an e-mail saying, 

"If you want me, you have to work for me.  Please don't contact me anymore, your decisions are tearing me apart.  If you decide to grow up and be the man that I know you are, please let me know." 

To this day, that was one of the hardest things I have ever done.  I lost my best friend.  I thought he was gone forever.  BUT, much to my surprise, at the end of his Navy boot camp I received an phone call.

"Hi Jeanne.  It's P.  I'm calling you back."

His deep, comforting voice gave me such relief.  It was OVER.  I quickly got off the other line and we began to catch up.  Before getting off the phone, I layed it all out there for him.  I told him that I loved him and I couldn't watch him make decisions that we BOTH knew were not good.  If he wanted me as a friend, he had to be who I knew that he was.  I wasn't going to let him settle for what was comfortable.  We agreed and we were back on track.  PHEW!

At that point, I was a junior in high school.  I had dated a few boys, here and there, but nothing serious.  Nobody could make me laugh like he could.

Although he was still dating his girlfriend, he started saying things that just didn't line up.  For instance, I told him that he would be one of my future kids' Godfather.  He got VERY upset with me and told me that he 'better be the father'.  WHAT!?!?!

Prom

He had a girlfriend!  He was so upset about this conversation that he even called his mother.  Whatever.

Well, my senior year was a particularly rough year.  By the time prom came around, I really wasn't interested in going solo.  One night, I kind of dropped a hint that I wanted him to go with me but it ended there.  About a week later, he called me to say that he and girlfriend had broken up and he was coming for prom.

I can't even tell you the excitement that ran through my veins!  I knew that it was the start of something good...

How It All Began...

As most of you know, Saturday was the 12 year mark from the day I met my husband, P.  Unlike most people, we didn't meet at school, work, or through friends.  Our story is beyond unique.  It's actually kind of crazy.  I often find myself thinking about how crazy it is that we ever even met.  If it weren't for that split second on October 29, 1999, I don't think we would have ever had the opportunity again.

Thanks to my incredibly (verging on obnoxious) outgoing 13 year old personality, P and I met one weekend at the Youth and Family Encounter (a church conference) in Atlanta.  I had convinced my girlfriends to skip a talk so we could just roam (and secretly search for boys).  After walking for a while, we were about to cave in and just go into the youth track.  Thats when I spotted them.  A group of boys around our age.  Being that I was the 'outgoing' one, I had no problem walking up to them.  Instead of walking up and introducing myself like a normal human being, for some reason I thought it would be cool to walk up and say,

"Hi!  My name is Jeanne.  I'm weird and abnormal, but it a good way!"

WHAT!?!?!?

 

I've never actually admitted that I said that but there it is...on paper!  To this day, that is still one of those things I am completely embarrassed about. 

ANYWAYS, it must have worked because the boys walked over with me and met my friends.  I remember 3 boys (Ed, John, and P).  They told us that they were from New England (Mass. and New Hampshire) and that they had driven down on a bus with a boys group.  They then proceeded to tell us that, the night before, they had gotten kicked out of a Marriott for dropping a bouncy ball from the top floor into the atrium.  I guess they wanted to see how far up it would bounce.  Instead of getting moved to some crappy hotel, are you ready for this?, their group leader moved them to the RITZ CARLTON in downtown Atlanta.

Just an FYI: the cheapest room costs around $300 a night...and they were staying for 5!

For the next two days, we (or maybe just I) spent my time hanging around these boys.  We sat next to them at the talks, during Mass, and we even got permission from our parents to walk across the street for lunch!  That lunch marked the end of the weekend. 

As my friends and I were piling in the backseat of my parents car, on halloween afternoon, we exchanged e-mail addresses.  I remember looking down at the paper and seeing P's address: madlyskilled@-----.com.  REALLY?  How dumb!

Within minutes of getting home, before we dressed up as 'Army Chicks', I made sure to hop on my e-mail and shoot him an e-mail.  That night, at 13 years old, I told my best friend, Toni, that I had this weird feeling that I was going to marry that boy.  We giggled about it and then ran off to enjoy our last halloween trick-or-treating.

So, there you have it.  Embarrassing details and all.  Next week I'll continue the crazy story that somehow leads to today...

One Girl, One Boy...

On this day, 12 years ago, I met the boy who would become my husband! 

This picture was taken two years after we met.

I was a 13 year old, boy crazy, attention seeking Georgia girl and he was a 15 year old, cool, about to get his drivers license, New Hampshire boy.  We met by complete chance but that chance ended up to be the greatest life changers I've had.  When we got married, 7 years later, we had never lived in the same city, but he was my absolute best friend!

Its funny how the best things in life are the ones that are not planned or organized, rather they happen just because they are supposed to happen.

Common Sense Dad: Let Kids Be Tough - Because They Already Are

Welcome to the first Common Sense Dad Friday! 

Naturally, my first spotlighted dad is one of my favorites...my husband! 

Enjoy!

Our children are our future. It is our jobs as parents to prepare them for the life ahead of them.  From an early age, we have the opportunity to teach our children how to be tough; and it is our responsibility to ensure that they learn this invaluable trait.  The funny thing is, children are born tough,and they learn weakness and fear from their parents.  When I say “tough,” I am not suggesting that we raise all of our children to be bullies or heartless robots.  The “tough” I am referring to is found in our day to day activities. 

When I was growing up, I loved a good electric storm.  Being from New  Hampshire these storms were rarely of any great significance, but I always hoped for a bright flash and a loud crack.  My younger siblings had mixed feelings about these storms; at least one of my sisters was petrified by them.  One night I got outwardly excited about an upcoming storm, we set up pillows on a bed and waited for the storm to hit.  The positive anticipation was like that of going to the movies, and it changed the entire experience. 

Fast forward about 20 years and a storm was coming our way, Little P and Little C had no idea what electrical storms were about.  Living considerably south of NH, storms are a bit more intense.  The three of us were outside playing as the winds picked up, at this point, they knew something was going on.  I told them that there was going to be “HEAVY” (which at the time was universal for “BIG” in our house) rain, and with the rain was going to be HEAVY lights and HEAVY bangs.  Their response was: “oh wow.”  I told them we would go inside the house and watch all of the heavy lights and bangs, and watch them we did.  They enjoyed it even more than I imagined. 

A couple strikes were extremely close, the type that stir fears that have been ingrained into us over the past million years or so, but even then, they just looked to me and observed my reaction (wow!) and mimicked it from then on.  Little P and C enjoyed it so much that they didn’t want to go to bed (there is typically no push-back on bed time in our house).  I made a deal with them that I would open the blinds and they could watch the storm from Little P’s bed.  They ran up and laid down next to each other, I pulled the blanket over them.  They were so focused on waiting for the next bolt of lightning; they never noticed that I left the room.  When we checked on them that night,they were right were I left them, at the foot of Little P’s bed, facing the window, passed out.

How many ten year olds cry when they scrape their knee?  How many are scared of thunder?  Children are naturally tough; they can endure anything we throw at them so long as we show them the way to handle themselves.  Whether it is a “boo-boo”, a storm, or a parent traveling for an extended period of time, kids are born with the capacity to overcome hardship.  It is our duty as parents to instruct them in how to approach the difficulties of life, we can teach them to fall back on weakness, or rise above with strength.   

Kindness Between Sibilings

One of my favorite parts of being married is evaluating our upbringings and deciding what we want to bring to our own family.  Once our older two children got to the age where tempers could flare, my husband, P, spoke up very quickly about something he wanted to bring from his childhood.  He told me that one of the only times you could count on seeing his dad get upset was when the he and his sibilings were unkind to one another. 

Now, my brother and I used to bicker, but he was talking about something different.  He was talking about kindness.  As soon as my husband explained this to me, I started seeing exactly what he was talking about.  It's not when they arguing over the toy, but rather when their words become sharp or their intentions become hurtful.  I had noticed it before but could never put my finger on the difference.  He hit the nail on the head...they were being unkind.

When I asked P why it bothered his dad so much, he told me that his dad used to explain to them that they should love and be kind to each other because when it comes down to it, they are all each of them had.  When all of your friends have left, you will always have your brothers and sisters.

This has been a big lesson for me.  Being that my older two are 15 months apart, they have the opportunity to be the best of friends.  I definitely think that my being aware of their kindness towards one another has contributed to the bond that holds these two together.  Now, they are most commonly described as 'an old married couple'...its hysterical!