The story about this photo is that I forgot the piece that connects my camera to my tripod. Okay, I didn't technically forget it because I brought it. But it was the wrong tripod piece. So, we found ourselves on top of a windy mountain, in the middle of a field of wildflowers without a tripod. So, Evan rigged up a tripod with my camera bag and a giant bush and we made it work. We had a fussy two-year-old who was all about lunch and not about pictures. It's what happens when you rush out of the house and grab three water bottles but zero snacks. Everyone was hangry at this point and it was windy and my dress was short. Bad combo if you ask me slash the thirty cars I probably flashed. But Montana. This is an hour and a half from our house. I could not possibly ask for a better state to live in. A lake plus wildflowers plus mountains all in one day. Thanks, Montana. We love you.
Friday, June 26, 2015
Thursday, June 25, 2015
happiest
Evan woke me up with breakfast and fresh brewed coffee this morning. And I was prepared to spend most of my day editing pictures after he left for work but then he said, "Maddox, should we ask mom if she wants to go to Red Lodge?" And that my friends is how you show someone you love them. You surprise your significant other with a day off of work (for me, too, because I edited ZERO pictures today, minus my own. Praise.) and a roadtrip out of town. And good music and feet in fresh, COLD water and pictures and delicious burritos and favorite breweries. I want every day to be today but that would take away some of the magic I suppose.
I remember pre-Maddox and even while I was pregnant, being so, so afraid of not having enough one-on-one time with Evan after a baby was in our midst. I was so worried that our marriage would crumble because we would be so enamored and focused on this little life that we would forget about each other. And that is not the case at all. Evan and I make it out of the house for a date every once and a while. We grab dinner just us or catch a movie or go to coffee or make a target run. And I like it. It's fun to get away and hold his hand and not have the cutest baby screaming, "BAH!" in my face every four seconds. But he is part of us now. And even though this date doesn't really look like a date, it is a date for us. There is no where I would rather be than with my two guys. Anywhere on this planet, if they're with me, I'm undoubtedly the happiest.
I remember pre-Maddox and even while I was pregnant, being so, so afraid of not having enough one-on-one time with Evan after a baby was in our midst. I was so worried that our marriage would crumble because we would be so enamored and focused on this little life that we would forget about each other. And that is not the case at all. Evan and I make it out of the house for a date every once and a while. We grab dinner just us or catch a movie or go to coffee or make a target run. And I like it. It's fun to get away and hold his hand and not have the cutest baby screaming, "BAH!" in my face every four seconds. But he is part of us now. And even though this date doesn't really look like a date, it is a date for us. There is no where I would rather be than with my two guys. Anywhere on this planet, if they're with me, I'm undoubtedly the happiest.
Tuesday, June 23, 2015
ten things
Ten things that are my favorite about him right now.
1. "Bless you, mama."
2. "Otay."
3. When he asks, "Daddy here?' when he wakes up in the morning or from his nap.
4. Before we went to Guatemala we sat outside on our patio and ate dinner and I said, "Maddox, isn't it so nice outside?" He responded, "Windy? Nope."
5. His curls.
6. "Yuv yoo, mama. Yuv yoo, daddy."
7. "Maddox, can you tell me your ABC's?" "A, B, C, G, H, F!"
8. "Let's water the flowers. The flowers are thirsty." "I thirsty, too."
9. How he says, "tanks," after everything.
10. The way he loves to be "held like a baby" after his bath.
Thursday, June 11, 2015
ten-years
I didn't think that I would meet my husband on a random summer's night at a putt-putt golf course. I didn't think that because the real reason I was even there was for a guy that I liked. Like, really, really liked. So, I wasn't thinking about my future, even a minute into the future, but especially not into the future that held life with another, different guy. Not having a second thought about the future is probably why I was wearing a blue crop top over an orange t shirt. But he was there, unbeknownst to me. I said exactly zero words to him that night but I did an awful lot of judging his blue and red Adidas Superstars.
I think about that Evan. The one with the crazy mop of curly hair and the goatee and the unfortunate shoes. I think about the Evan who told me every single part of his life, only for me to respond with, "What?! Me too!" and to be struck with utter disbelief that our paths had never crossed before that moment on the putt-putt course. And I wonder if that Evan knew me when he saw me. If I was just another girl his friend was dating. Or if he felt something when he looked at me. It wasn't immediate or love at first sight. It wasn't anything probably because it took several days for me to even say one word to him because I was seventeen and full of attitude.
It was ten-years-ago that I met him. Ten-years of knowing him all because I fell for the wrong guy who pointed my heart in the right direction. Ten-years of buying him shoes and clothes and making him get rid of those Adidas and all the other shoes that filled his closet. Ten-years of looking at him and noticing him. Ten-years of friendship turned love, which is the best kind of love. Ten-years of him, which is almost a third of my life. Ten-years is a lifetime but we've lived several lifetimes in these ten-years together. We've dealt with tragedy and joy and walked uphill both ways blindfolded to get to the top of mountains we never thought we'd climb. But he's my person. I always wanted to marry my high school sweetheart. And I did.
I think about that Evan. The one with the crazy mop of curly hair and the goatee and the unfortunate shoes. I think about the Evan who told me every single part of his life, only for me to respond with, "What?! Me too!" and to be struck with utter disbelief that our paths had never crossed before that moment on the putt-putt course. And I wonder if that Evan knew me when he saw me. If I was just another girl his friend was dating. Or if he felt something when he looked at me. It wasn't immediate or love at first sight. It wasn't anything probably because it took several days for me to even say one word to him because I was seventeen and full of attitude.
It was ten-years-ago that I met him. Ten-years of knowing him all because I fell for the wrong guy who pointed my heart in the right direction. Ten-years of buying him shoes and clothes and making him get rid of those Adidas and all the other shoes that filled his closet. Ten-years of looking at him and noticing him. Ten-years of friendship turned love, which is the best kind of love. Ten-years of him, which is almost a third of my life. Ten-years is a lifetime but we've lived several lifetimes in these ten-years together. We've dealt with tragedy and joy and walked uphill both ways blindfolded to get to the top of mountains we never thought we'd climb. But he's my person. I always wanted to marry my high school sweetheart. And I did.
Monday, June 8, 2015
The goodness (5)
My sweetest photographer-in-training snapped this picture of Evan and I on our last family photog outing. Admittedly, it's not the best idea to let my two-year-old handle my very expensive and heavy camera baby. But the joy it brings him is mostly worth it. And so we neck strap him in and let him go to town. We jumped into what we assumed was his line of vision, no telling really since he can't even lift the thing to his face, and this is what we got. If you're wondering if I framed it and hung it on my wall, the answer is a resounding yes. I'm not even mad that it's blurry. It's probably my favorite picture ever.
Friday, June 5, 2015
S E N T
Tomorrow morning I'm getting on a plane at 10 am to fly to Guatemala. No, Maddox isn't coming along but that's only because he's now two and plane tickets are outrageous.
My plane was always, always to move to Africa. I've tried about three hundred times. I've come thisclose to submitting my application to teach English in some remote village because you don't need things like Praxis tests and related college degrees in Africa. And one time a friend asked if I wanted to run a daycare (not offering me a job, just generally asking) and I was like, "Heck no." She's like, "You're right. You're supposed to run an orphanage." And that pretty much stopped me cold in my tracks because out of all my current dreams, which I have sort of directed back to stateside because grandparents get a little cranky when you even dream about moving to the other side of the world, I had never thought about running an orphanage. But I was like, "Yes. Add that to my list. I'll do it."
But that is not my point.
My point is that for almost four-years I have been stateside. I have sat in my comfortable little house with clean running water and flushable toilet paper and my neighbors give me bags of radishes and don't try to kill me or steal my animals. My house has heating (semi third world because we don't have a/c, JUST KIDDING) and I spend money frivolously on things like candles and potato chips and home decor. And it's too much. I'm all about living in a third world country where there are probably bed bugs and no salad and hardly any English and my showers are cut down to exactly 30-seconds. I'm okay with all of that. So. When I get a little too comfortable. When I'm spending money because I have it and I suddenly have the mindset that if I don't purchase that rug, those shoes, dye my hair right this very instant, it's been too long. I need to get out. Realign. Adjust. I will come home. Give away half my possessions. Beg Evan to move me there probably. Tell everyone about it until I have no friends. And it will be good.
So. I will leave my baby with our parents for ten days. I will have my phone to look at all of his pictures and to watch all of his videos a hundred thousand times, but I still stuck a favorite 4x6 picture of him into my bible for safe keeping. I will miss him like crazy and facetime him every night. But I will have Evan there to miss him with me and we will find some babies who don't have mamas to fiercely miss them with ever fiber of their being. I can't wait to love on some people and to hug some babies and to build a fence because I know everything there is to know about fence building and to brush up on my Spanish.
I bought this necklace to support a friend who went to Haiti. She stamped it with "SENT" so that I would wear it and remember her calling to G O. I bought it and a few weeks later said yes to this trip. (It was a big deal, guys. Maddox was not even 18-months and my mama heart could barely handle it.) I'm sent, too, and I'm so grateful that I am.
My plane was always, always to move to Africa. I've tried about three hundred times. I've come thisclose to submitting my application to teach English in some remote village because you don't need things like Praxis tests and related college degrees in Africa. And one time a friend asked if I wanted to run a daycare (not offering me a job, just generally asking) and I was like, "Heck no." She's like, "You're right. You're supposed to run an orphanage." And that pretty much stopped me cold in my tracks because out of all my current dreams, which I have sort of directed back to stateside because grandparents get a little cranky when you even dream about moving to the other side of the world, I had never thought about running an orphanage. But I was like, "Yes. Add that to my list. I'll do it."
But that is not my point.
My point is that for almost four-years I have been stateside. I have sat in my comfortable little house with clean running water and flushable toilet paper and my neighbors give me bags of radishes and don't try to kill me or steal my animals. My house has heating (semi third world because we don't have a/c, JUST KIDDING) and I spend money frivolously on things like candles and potato chips and home decor. And it's too much. I'm all about living in a third world country where there are probably bed bugs and no salad and hardly any English and my showers are cut down to exactly 30-seconds. I'm okay with all of that. So. When I get a little too comfortable. When I'm spending money because I have it and I suddenly have the mindset that if I don't purchase that rug, those shoes, dye my hair right this very instant, it's been too long. I need to get out. Realign. Adjust. I will come home. Give away half my possessions. Beg Evan to move me there probably. Tell everyone about it until I have no friends. And it will be good.
So. I will leave my baby with our parents for ten days. I will have my phone to look at all of his pictures and to watch all of his videos a hundred thousand times, but I still stuck a favorite 4x6 picture of him into my bible for safe keeping. I will miss him like crazy and facetime him every night. But I will have Evan there to miss him with me and we will find some babies who don't have mamas to fiercely miss them with ever fiber of their being. I can't wait to love on some people and to hug some babies and to build a fence because I know everything there is to know about fence building and to brush up on my Spanish.
I bought this necklace to support a friend who went to Haiti. She stamped it with "SENT" so that I would wear it and remember her calling to G O. I bought it and a few weeks later said yes to this trip. (It was a big deal, guys. Maddox was not even 18-months and my mama heart could barely handle it.) I'm sent, too, and I'm so grateful that I am.
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