I Do.

The first time Mark asked me to marry him, I was 16 years old. We were both in high school, and I was pretty sure he was joking.

Three years later, he asked again. This time, with a ring that I’d picked out and a spaghetti dinner he was so proud of.

I said yes both times.

Mark and I began as an unlikely couple, way back in 1994. As one classmate so delicately put it, what was a goody two shoes (that would be me) doing with such a troublemaker (yes, that was Mark)?

She was right. Rude, but right. And yet, somehow, it did work. We worked.

Today is the 10th anniversary of our wedding. That stressful, exciting, exhausting, wonderful, emotional day seems so long ago. But at the same time, I’m quite positive it happened just last year.

(Because I cannot possibly be old enough to have been married for a decade. Right?)

Mark and I went to the same high school in a small town. We were only two years apart, but we didn’t exactly run in the same crowd. (Although, it turns out, he was neighbors with my best friend, Smitty, and another best friend, David. And cousins with one of my best girlfriends, Kimi. I said it was a Small Town.)

We met at a football game, where I learned that Mark had a crush on one of my friends. Three of us sophomores talked to this senior, hinting that we wanted a ride to the big party taking place after the game. My friend Mindy and I chickened out in the end, because, well, you remember the goody two shoes remark from earlier, right?

But it seems I made an impression on young Mark anyway. I’d like to think it was my beauty and wit (I remember liking him most of all because he laughed at my jokes. Because I’m funny, people!) . . . but I have a feeling it might have been the annoying way I kept singing the song that was stuck in my head that night. It was 1994, so it could have been worse. I could have sung Sheryl Crow or [shudder] Crash Test Dummies. But instead, I sang – over and over and over – What’s Going On by 4 Non Blondes.

Anyway, our first date was the Homecoming Dance. It was also my first date. And . . . as my mother dragged out of me the next morning, my first kiss.

[Cue the “awwww.”]

We dated all through high school and through my first two years of college. Unless you count the time I tried to break up with him. Or the time he tried to break up with me. Oh, the drama, the angst, the tears. The beauty of a long-distance relationship.

Since we didn’t deal so well with the long-distance (while I was in college, and he was working at home), we decided the only logical thing to do was get married.

I was 19 when we made that decision. A freshman in college. You can just imagine how excited my mom was.

But get married we did. And I finished college. And we moved. And changed jobs. And fought – a lot. And figured out how to live with each other. And remembered how to laugh together. And learned how to cry together.

Just being honest here.

In the last ten years, we’ve lived in three apartments, two duplexes and one house. We’ve gone to more funerals than I want to remember, including his mom’s. I graduated from college, started graduate school, quit graduate school. Mark started and stopped college a handful of times. We’ve both lost jobs. We shared dreams, wishes, ideas, plans and prayers. We adopted two cats. We had a beautiful baby girl. We traveled to Seattle, Colorado, Branson, Florida, Virginia and Tennessee. And, oh yeah, more than a few road trips to Kansas, Des Moines and St. Louis.

We’ve racked up credit card debt – and paid it off. We’ve planted a church – and left several churches. We’ve made friends and lost friends. We’ve said things we regret, left things unsaid that should have been spoken, thrown things across the room and stormed out of the house in anger. And we’ve taken classes and gone to seminars and sat through counseling and read books – and learned how to live and love better than we ever thought possible.

Mark is an amazing man – a loving, accepting and forgiving, helpful, funny man. He has supported me through all sorts of ups and downs, and he’s helped me grow into a better person. He’s an incredible father, and the best husband I could want.

And he’s still making me spaghetti dinners to be proud of.

Happy anniversary, Mark. I love you – a lot.

It's kind of like an anniversary video. But not.

If I were just a little more tech savvy, I'd put together a great slide show to commemorate this occasion. One set to music. Yeah, that's what I'd do.

But since I'm not, I won't.

Instead, I give you a link to Dan Seals' One Friend, one of the songs we had sung at our wedding and a sentiment that's even more true today than it was then.

And, of course, a whole bunch of pictures.

As you can see, I was quite excited for my mother
to take a picture on my first date. Soooo embarassing at the time!
(And yes, of course I love the fact that I have it now!)

Mark's senior prom, 1995. Yes, all of that hair is mine.

It was quite the trend at our high school to get professional couple photos taken.
And by "professional," of course, I mean Sears. This was the fall of 1995.

My junior prom, 1996. My hair is pulled back in a banana clip,
because I just could not handle another prom night of bobby pins and hairspray.

My senior prom, 1997. Yes, I am quite pale, thank you.

My cousin Sarah's wedding, October 1996.
Because everyone looks beautiful in sleeves like that.

My dorm had a formal dance. Spring 1998.
My roommate decided to lay on the floor to take this flattering photo.

The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society black tie ball,
one of many work functions Mark has attended with me in the last decade.

Fall 2005. Or maybe 2004. After you've been married this long, it all blurs together.

Taking a nap during our fishing trip to Canada. I don't remember feeling happier than normal, but when I look at the pictures from that trip, I can see it. I see how happy Mark and I were to just be together.

The Three Amigos: Mark, Smitty and me at the Coors brewery in Colorado.

Honest, we don't drink that much beer. But apparently we document each occasion when we do!
Smitty, Mark and me at a concert a few years ago.

The Three Amigos (and a few others) partying like it's 1999 . . . in 2008.

And a family was born. October 8, 2007.

Another hospital photo. Because we were there for a long time.

Christmas 2007. We still weren't sleeping much then.

Summer 2008. Life was getting fun right around this time.

Christmas 2008. Mom and Dad had a great time figuring out the new tripod. Annalyn was not amused.

Thanks for taking this walk down memory lane with me. Have a great weekend!

Where's Glamour Shots when you need them?

I've had the same profile picture for several months now. I realize that using the same pic helps me create a brand and all that. But I'm kind of getting tired of the same pic!

So last night I decided to take a new one. Aside from the spots I saw for about half an hour after my little photo session, I don't think I did too bad. Check it out:

All right, maybe these pictures are pretty silly. So help me out. A lot of us don't like pictures of ourselves, so how do you deal with it? How do you get a good picture of yourself?

Mister Manager, Daytime Dilemmas and a Day at the Park

After yesterday’s crazy long and whiny post, I believe I owe you some brevity and cheer. So, in no particular order, here it is, short and sweet.

***

Last summer I watched The Starter Wife (the miniseries) after the regular TV season was over. This summer, I’m choosing more wisely and going with Arrested Development. I’ve watched the first three episodes, and I’m happy to say I’m hooked.

***

Annalyn has had a fever, off and on, for the past three days. I ended up staying home with her yesterday afternoon, and aside from the crying jags and burning forehead, she was perfectly adorable. She’s starting to speak in two-word sentences, and they’re just so sweet: “Bye-bye, Daddy.” “Thank you, Mommy.”

***

Staying home with Annalyn reminded me of the dilemma that is daytime television, in particular, the 3:00 hour. How can one possibly choose between Ellen and What I Like About You?

***

I went to the grocery store to buy some chicken. My whole purpose for going out, to the store, was to get a bag of chicken. I came home with pudding, refried beans, bananas and bagels, making this the second week in a row that I won’t be able to participate in Jessie’s Friday Family Recipes carnival. Because I need chicken for my recipe. And I want to take pictures.

This blogging life is so complicated.

***

I forgot to include in yesterday's post (the one I should have named, "The weekend was long. This post is longer.") that we went to the park on Sunday afternoon and had a great time. Of course, you know by "had a great time," I mean that I got some great pictures. So now, because you’ve been so kind to read this random rambling mess, I present to you pictures from last weekend:

A long post about my long weekend.

Three-day weekends can be tricky.

They don’t come around often, so when one arrives, we’re determined to make the most of them. To live life to the fullest. To participate in every activity with the inane hope of getting caught up on rest at the same time. There are parties to attend, children to entertain, expectations to manage and weather to work around.

Or is that just my family?

My long weekend started out great. As promised, I finished Annalyn’s first-year scrapbook. It’s not perfect, but I sure do love it. It’s 30 pages, front and back, of cuteness – and I even got the whole thing extended and posted and screwed together (thank you, Mark). Granted, I did buy the wrong size page protectors for the last 10 pages, but I did not let that stop me. Nope, I just let that project illustrate my dedication to giving up on perfect.

And Mark and my mom thought it was great anyway.

On Saturday, we had quite a schedule lined up. And we started with a bang, thanks to a less-than-full night’s sleep. I’m not sure what was up with Annalyn, but she didn’t sleep well all weekend.

For those of you not ruled by naps, let me explain what that means for our tightly scheduled Saturday. First, she slept late (9 a.m.), which was awesome. It meant that Mark and I got to sleep later, making up (kind of) for the hours we were up with her during the night. However, that meant Annalyn’s morning nap came much later than normal. And as a matter of fact, she sat in her crib fussing for an HOUR before FINALLY falling asleep. By that time, we were close to running late, so her nap got cut short, and we hit the road to a birthday party.

Because there's no better plan than to start an afternoon and evening with a tired kid.

The good news is that the chicken nuggets I nuked in our microwave took on magical characteristics just by being in the car. Annalyn gobbled them up like they came from the golden arches, something she hasn’t been interested in doing while sitting at the dining room table.

After the birthday party, we split up. Mark and my dad went to watch Angels and Demons. Mom, Annalyn and I headed to a kids’ music festival. Annalyn loves her CD and DVD by They Might Be Giants, and they were performing. Perfect, right?

Uh, no. As we sat, sweating, waiting for the band to set up, I’m pretty sure my mom was wondering why on earth I thought this was a good idea. Why wouldn’t it be a good idea to take a wiggly, squirming toddler who doesn’t toddle and make her stay within a 3-foot radius of our seats?

The highlight of the evening is a toss-up. I’m not sure what Annalyn enjoyed more: dumping half a bottle of water on her head and mine, cleaning the cement floor with a used baby wipe, ignoring the Grammy Award-winning band playing in front of her, or dancing her little heart out IN THE CAR ON THE WAY HOME.

As we like to say in my family, a good time was had by all.

Sunday was actually a day of rest, if you don’t count the torturous delightful hour and a half I spent in the church nursery. Sweating. Wiping noses with toilet paper, because apparently we can’t keep Kleenex in stock. And holding a darling little girl who cried for 40 MINUTES STRAIGHT.

And oh yeah, telling Annalyn to suck it up, because she needs to share Mommy. Yes, I’m your Mommy. No, Mommy can’t hold you. Mommy loves you. Eat your Goldfish.

And then there was a nap involved. For everyone.

No stress on Sunday night, because Monday was a day OFF. A FREE DAY! A day to do nothing! Or everything! Or . . .

My idea was to go to the zoo. But Mark watched The Weather Channel (because that’s what you do when you get old), and rain was a-coming. Instead we headed to The Legends, an outdoor shopping center about half an hour away. After spending that 30-minute drive arguing debating where we should eat lunch, Mark remembered that a new Mexican restaurant had just opened.

And since Mexican restaurant = chips and salsa = happy baby, it was an easy decision.

By the time we got there, it was after 1 p.m., so I was surprised to see several families waiting in the lobby. But our wait was just long enough for me to change a verrry dirty diaper in the restroom (where Annalyn freaked out on the changing table, apparently afraid she was going to fall off. I don’t know. This has never happened before. It was fun.), and then we were seated.

And we waited. And waited. And waited. Not patiently, either. Because it was way past Annalyn’s lunchtime. And there were no chips on our table. (And, oh yeah, she’s recently decided that she hates sitting in high chairs.)

To make a long story slightly shorter, we got up to leave, told the manager why, got promised a speedy and FREE lunch, sat back down, ate a decent lunch that still took way too long, and finally left.

We walked down to the water fountains, where a band was performing. After letting Annalyn cruise around the fountains and listening to a pretty good cover of Bohemian Rhapsody, I suggested we visit Carter’s, my very favorite baby clothing store. (Affordable + not-bad quality = happy mom) Unfortunately, it was starting to spit at that point, and since we have been caught in the rain at The Legends before, I let Mark convince me that a better option was to head over to Cabela’s.

Because what says Mom’s Got a Day Off better than many large stuffed wild animals?

In an attempt to redeem this less-than-perfect day, Mark decided we would go to a Chevy dealership and test-drive a Traverse. Our area dealers are participating in Mommy Madness, a blogger promotion in which you can test-drive a Traverse and get a gift certificate for a massage in return, so this sounded like a good plan. Even though at least two of us were realllly tired and ready to go home at this point.

But, in the spirit of the weekend, it was not to be. We walked around the lot (in the drizzling spit rain), checking out several Traverses. We even walked up to the door of the office and tried to walk in.

Only to find it locked. At ten till five.

Because in today’s economic climate, car salesmen really have too many customers to worry about the ones literally trying to WALK IN THE DOOR.

After glaring at the salesman sitting just inside that LOCKED DOOR, we got back in the car and went home.

It was quite a weekend. We also rented Valkyrie, caught up on The Office, ate pizza more than once, bought a video camera and had lots of family snuggle time. So overall? Not too shabby.

How was your long weekend?

A Day of Remembering

"May you never forget what is worth remembering,
nor ever remember what is best forgotten.”
~ Irish blessing

Memorial Day brings a lot of memories to mind for me. I graduated from high school on Memorial Day weekend. I got married on Memorial Day weekend. And Mark's mom died shortly after Memorial Day weekend.

It's a strange combination of memories.

What are you remembering today?

Saturday Review: Season Finale Week 2

Last week I discussed the week’s season finales, and I’m happy to say that this week brings us to the end of season finale season. Happy, because that means So You Think You Can Dance is on . . . and we get a break from other shows. Summer, here we come!

But before we can truly begin summer, I think we need to debrief the last of the season-enders. Let’s get started.

SPOILER ALERT: Stop here if you haven’t watched these shows yet. Because then you’ll find out what happens and you’ll be bummed out, and it will be Up Close & Personal with Smitty in high school all over again. (I said I’m sorry, Smitty. I didn’t mean to tell you about the ending!)

Monday was the day we’ve been waiting for, the day we’ve been teased about for a season and a half, the day that we find out why there was a goat in Ted’s apartment on his 31st birthday. And, because we’d been teased for so long, I have to say that the season finale of How I Met Your Mother was a bit of a letdown. The goat, the birthday party, even the big change in Ted’s career path – it had been built up so much that the payoff just wasn’t that spectacular. The best part, I think, was the scene where Robin and Barney finally start to address their feelings for each other. It didn’t get too mushy and they didn’t act out of character, but it was still a sweet moment.

Tuesday’s finale was much better. As you know, I’m a big fan of NCIS. I even read the show’s message board some weeks. (Don’t judge me.) And even though I’d read some interviews and spoilers about the NCIS finale, I was still surprised. You might even say stunned. Because even though none of the team members died (despite CBS’s insistence on saying, “And only one will return.” in the commercials), the team is definitely not together. And I’m really not sure how they’ll resolve the situation next season. This was a good one.

And now . . . the finale of all finales . . . American Idol. Even though I sing – and secretly believe that I could make it on the show if only I weren’t so old – this season was the first one I’ve watched from beginning to end. And let me tell you, I was ready for it to be over! But it was good. I think the last several contestants were extremely talented, and I imagine we’ll see, or hear, a lot of them in the coming months. I liked Danny, but I was glad he got cut. I didn’t think he was nearly as talented as Kris. And, of course, Adam was in a league of his own. That being said, I was happy with the finale results. I mean, imagine if poor Adam would have been forced to record that wretched song!

As for the finale itself, there were some good performances, some lame performances and some that I missed entirely. (Sorry, American Idol, laundry doesn’t stop, even for you.) I thought Fergie looked terrible and it’s ridiculous that she used language that needed to be bleeped. I thought Rod Stewart danced like the old man he is, but yes, he’s still good. I really enjoyed the group number of Pink’s “Still a Rock Star.” I thought it was pretty appropriate for the situation.

Except maybe where they said, “You’re a tool.” Not so appropriate to sing to the bajillions of fans who voted for them.

I was not surprised to see Tatiana return, but I guess she’s a good sport to act so foolish. Bikini girl, I could have done without. As another blogger mentioned, so much for this being a family show.

I really liked the Kiss performance, and looooved Kris Allen and Keith Urban.

And in the end, I was happy that Kris won. I think both Kris and Adam are extremely talented and genuinely nice guys. And I think they’ll both be successful. And now, thankfully, it’s over.

One more thing, though. Here are two great links about Kris Allen. First one is from Give Me My Remote, showing his interview with Jay Leno - adorable! Second one is from Kelly's Korner, talking about his faith - awesome!

What did you think? Are you glad that TV season is over and summer is here? Did you think Adam should have won? Do you watch NCIS?

And do you think I’ll ever catch up on The Office?

It’s a bit like watching your great-grandmother do a strip tease.

Sarah at The Mom Chronicles does a great post every week called Thursday Ten. Since I’m a fan of putting my thoughts into important-looking bullets – you hush, it helps me think! – I thought I’d give this a try.

Except it’s Friday. And “Friday Ten” doesn’t have quite the same ring to it. So I give you the very wordy Friday Five. As Nigel says, “And . . . cue music!”

• Last night was the big night. Yes, it was my mom’s birthday (helloooo, spice cake!). But it was also the night my beloved So You Think You Can Dance returned. And it did not disappoint. From Cat Deeley and her furry white vest to Nigel’s crazy British insults (Exhibit A: the title of this post), all my favorite folks were back in my living room, where they belong. Although . . . the six-time men’s baton twirling champion, Crazy Kate, creepy “joint-tortionists” and the same-sex ballroom dancers don’t actually belong in my living room.
• I have given in to peer pressure and started doing the 30-Day Shred. Day 1 (also known as Monday) was wretched. I thought I was going to die, and I was okay with that. Day 2 (yes, I am a glutton for punishment) was also torture, but in a different way. Working out didn’t make me feel like puking, but my muscles made it very clear how unhappy they were to be woken after years of inactivity. Day 3 actually took place on Day 4, because I had an allergy attack that wouldn’t be stopped. But by last night (Thursday, or Day 4), I almost felt normal again. Unfortunately, Annalyn woke up an hour early this morning, so I wasn’t able to shred myself. Thankfully, I’m quite sure Jillian will still be there come 6:00 tomorrow morning.
• Annalyn has a new game, and it’s adorable. It’s called “Night Night,” and it has two versions. In version one, she grabs a pillow and/or a blanket, lays down and says, “Night, night!” Then she pretends to sleep. Because when it’s not actually bedtime, this apparently is a fun thing to do. The other version involves Mommy and Daddy pretending to sleep (and snore), then waking up. For some reason, that makes the kiddo giggle her head off. Which, you know, makes us laugh, too.
• Tonight I’m going to scrapbook with my friend Christelle. I said I was finished with Annalyn’s one-year album last month, but really, I’ll finish it tonight. I still have to journal and embellish and generally polish it up. I still won’t be completely finished, though. (Will this project ever end??) I need to make a trip to the scrapbooking store sometime this weekend to buy extra page protectors and album extenders . . . because I had a LOT of pictures to deal with! And while I’m there, I think I’ll find someone to help me put the whole album together. I have a feeling it will involve screwdrivers, and I’m not so good with the tools.
• Jessie has started a fun carnival over at her blog, The Vanderbilt Wife. She’s asking everyone to share their favorite family recipes – and already, I’m seeing a lot of yummy food! I had hoped to post about the Cheesy Chicken I make, based on a recipe from Mark’s mom. But thanks to a little chicken misunderstanding in our house, it just didn’t happen this week. Go check it out anyway! After all, you probably need a good dish to take to a potluck or BBQ this weekend, and I bet you’ll find something there!

All right, that’s all the randomness I can manage for now. It’s your turn – what’s your week been like? Do you have plans for the holiday weekend? Am I the only one who wishes Mary Murphy and her annoying-as-all-get-out scream would get booted off of SYTYCD?

Stay cool. Stay you.

Last Sunday at church, all the graduating seniors stood up front. The youth pastor presented them to the congregation; we clapped and prayed. And I thought, "Wow, this is weird."

See, I would swear it was just last year that I graduated from high school. Just last year that my biggest concerns were beating Wes at the class rank contest and figuring out how to wear my hair for prom, wondering if I'd like my roommate at Truman and worrying that my boyfriend might not wait for me to come home for a visit.

On the other hand, I know - even if I don't want to admit it, even to myself - that in the blink of an eye, Annalyn is going to be the one standing at the front of a church on Senior Sunday.

I feel like I'm in an odd place - halfway between my teen years and hers. Stuck in the middle between my memories of my childhood and awareness of how fast hers will fly.

And as I've been thinking about this, I planned to dig up my graduation speech and share it with you all. I thought you might get a kick out of it. But tonight, when I opened my file cabinet and peeked into the folder where I saw it last . . . it wasn't there.

My speech is missing!

And no, before you ask, of course I didn't save it on a disk. Are you kidding? This was way back in 1997 - I didn't have a computer then, believe it or not! I wrote my speech - the day before graduation - on a piece of paper, one that I color coded, carried through the ceremony and put it away for safekeeping.

And now it's missing!

Also missing? My high school yearbooks. Now, you might be thinking, "Oh, they'll turn up somewhere. After all, you probably haven't even seen them in 12 years. Right?"

Wrong. Until a few months ago, my high school yearbooks sat on my bookshelf in my living room. I kept them handy, so every time Smitty or I would run into or randomly think of someone from the ol' days, we'd look them up in the yearbook.

But when I moved the bookshelf to Annalyn's room and put away all my books, I forgot to put my yearbooks in a handy location. I'm not actually sure what location they are in.

So now I'm missing my speech and my yearbooks. And all I have for you is this photo of a pasty white Mary on graduation day. (Go ahead, chuckle at my pale face. But just so you know, I was sick. Now don't you feel bad?)

Happy Graduation Season, friends. Stay cool.

What's your favorite graduation memory? And do you know where my yearbooks are?

There is nothing ironic about show choir.

Ahhh, that was glorious! I knew I would love GLEE. And I did. I loved it. I want more of it. I need more GLEE.

For those of you who have (somehow) missed it, GLEE is a new show on Fox. It debuted after last night’s American Idol, but won’t resume until this fall. The hour-long comedy is about a high school show choir in Ohio. It’s a little bit dark, a lot funny, and I am in love with it.

In the final scene, as the choir performs the Journey song that has been stuck in my head since these previews began, the teacher who has been working with them walks in. And as his eyes teared up, I’m not even kidding – so did mine. It was beautiful.

The end.

Just kidding. You knew I had more to say, right?

First, I have my favorite quotes from last night’s premiere, excluding most of the ones that have been run into the ground in the previews.

• I’m on my feet four hours a day, three days a week here! Do you see what I have to deal with?
• My long-distance girlfriend in Cleveland almost broke up with me.
• Last month they held down a guy and shaved off one of his eyebrows just because he watched Grey’s Anatomy.
• Look, if it was up to me, we wouldn’t have mandatory bi-weekly locker checks.
• Every Wednesday we’re going to have a puzzle night, because I know how important it is for you to have a creative outlet.
• Dr. Phil said that people can change!
• High school’s over. For both of us. It’s time to move on.
• She used to be filled with so much joy.
• You broke the rules. And for that, you must be punished.
• Don’t you get it, man? We’re all losers.
• These steps are not hard! I’ve been doing them since preschool.
• Do you think you could recruit the jazz band? . . I’ve got some pull.
• And what are you bringing to the table, Justin Timberlake?
• Being a part of that, in that moment, I knew who I was in the world.

Yes, you guessed it. I was in my high school’s glee club. Of course, we didn’t call it glee club. I didn’t know anyone actually called it that. Maybe it’s an Ohio thing?

Anyway, I was in my school’s show choir. For half the year, we were called Select Chorus and wore tuxedo shirts, cummerbunds and suspenders. I sang in that half of the year.

For the other half, we were called Swing Choir, and we danced. While singing. I accompanied the choir on the piano for that part of the year.

In the spring of my senior year, I did finally dance with the swing choir. And while I wouldn’t call it the best moment of my life (like Will did in GLEE), I will say I enjoyed it. Even though I was so embarrassed to be seen dancing in public. To a Beach Boys song. With jazz hands.

As they say, there is nothing ironic about show choir.

If you missed it, you can watch GLEE on Fox.com. And until it’s up, here’s a preview.

(And if there was ever any doubt this show was made for me, the Fancast page says next to the preview, “You might also like . . .” and guess what’s listed first? Gilmore Girls. And next, Veronica Mars. Apparently, Fancast knows me well.)

Did you watch it? What did you think?