I have been playing the mental mindset game the last two days. You know what I mean. The one where you really really want to just shout at the top of your lungs “I HATE IT HERE!“ but you rely on the old mantra, “I love my job! I love my job! I love my job!” and just keep repeating it over and over so, hopefully, you will start to believe. It’s just been one of those weeks. But hey, I have a job and I should be thankful so I am. I think today is one of those days I need to post a smile list.

1. Good movies.
2. Good food.
3. Good friends.
4. GREAT weekends.
5. Hope.

So, I know. Short but sweet. I don’t have much time, I’m very busy at work so I’ll have to post more later. It’s not a goodbye, just a ‘til then sendoff. In the meantime…I love my job, I love my job, I love my job, I love my job….

My good friend Elizabeth is/was posting her “Our Story” so when her children get older, they will know the true story and unabridged version of how their parents met. I wish I had great stories and photos of when I met Robbie. I don’t have a lot of photo’s of us since I hate HATE having my picture taken and I don't remember most of the details since I don't keep a journal but I decided to do my version of “The Story of Us”

My best friend lives in Springfield and in 2002 rented in a small apartment complex. Jerri was a neighbor that I got to know through Chris and she and I became fast friends. Jerri met Rob (nope, not my Rob(bie)) and they fell in love and then planned their wedding for May 18, 2002. Jerri’s Rob had a son, David, from a previous relationship who was just a bit younger than Lizzie. David and Lizzie were best buddies and since David was to be the ring bearer in the wedding, Jerri asked Lizzie to be the flower girl. At that time, I was in a relationship with a great guy named Steve but deep down knew I didn’t love him. The relationship was headed nowhere fast and I so desperately did not want yet another failure in that department that I was hanging on to it with every shred of dignity and pride I could muster. Steve had decided he did not want to travel to Springfield that weekend for wedding festivities and I was, as usual, disappointed. One of many disappointments in a well-hidden line. But this was probably God throwing in His wisdom.

So Sam, Lizzie and I headed off to Springfield during a torrential downpour on Friday, May 17th and it took forever to get there. By the time I made it through Chris’ front door, I was frazzled and soaked and ready to tear out my hair. I’m sure I looked quite the sight. As we came to the door, Jerri and Chris were there to take our bags, give us towels and welcome us. Jerri then introduced me to her brother that had flown in from Arizona to be an usher in the wedding. His name was Robbie. He was very handsome and very tall. He shook my hand, said “Hi nice to meet you, I don’t feel good, I’m going back to Jerri’s apartment.” Wala. He left. And I thought, ‘well that’s a fine how do you do’. (He apparently had eaten bad Taco Bell and was very sick from it but I didn’t know it at the time and to this day he won’t eat Taco Bell)

I’m sure I have great stories about that time period. Oh - probably like how I threw-up all over him the night after I met him. Or how I was sincerely impressed with the fact that his hand from tip of middle finger to the base of his palm is longer than a long-neck Miller Lite and then I, trying to be funny, asked him if it was true what they say? And he said, "What do they say?" (with an all knowing smirk, of course) and I, realizing what I'd said to an almost stranger, said "Men with big hands have big....gloves." Or how we ran out of alcohol in the middle of the Bachelorette Party and while on the Beerrun I also picked up a Playgirl magazine and he came back from the Bachelor Party just in time to catch three of us girls gawking unabashedly at the Centerfold. Yep, those are great tales to reminisce with the grandkids.

But in all honesty, there were also those moments when I wasn’t being lewd and lascivious that are forever etched in my memory. Like during the rehearsal when I looked up over the tops of the heads of the people in front of me and caught him looking at me and I couldn’t for the life of me look away. Or how during the rehearsal dinner I got stuck in the back between a bunch of people and he offered to get Sam and Lizzie refills on their soda since I couldn’t easily get out. Or how I was mortally embarrassed because I elbowed him in the ribs and nearly knocked him out of his chair after he made a joke about the soda refills and I realized he was in the middle of a prayer before he ate his dinner. And how he danced with me at the reception and I found out he was a phenomenal dancer and made me look like I almost knew what I was doing. How he kept giggling at me because I’d bitten my tongue and I kept saying ‘my tongue hurth’. And how he talked about his boys and how much he loved them and missed them. That part impressed me most of all, I think. The look he got when he talked about his kids. And how very much I wished I could stay in Springfield and get to know him better but had decided I needed to go home and work out the relationship I was in. And I truly tried. About a week after I got home, I wanted to talk about my misgivings and see if there was chance to work this thing out and when I said, “I’m not happy”, Steve packed his stuff up and moved out. Nothing about ‘what can we do’ or ‘I’m ready to do whatever it takes’. That was it. He moved out. End of that chapter.

I talked to Robbie a few times on the phone after that but not seriously until that July. He had decided to stay in Springfield for a while since he had accumulated a lot of vacation time on his job in Phoenix and then eventually, he officially moved to Springfield. We started talking on the phone. A LOT. He made a few trips up to see me and I went to Springfield to visit him. He told me he was falling in love with me and I think I freaked out. Then gained enough sense to tell him I was falling in love right back but that was after several weeks of the freaking out part.

He was having a hard time finding a good job in Springfield so in October, he moved back to Phoenix. I was more depressed about that than I let on. I knew the statistics of long distance relationships and I knew, too, that I usually ended up in with the statistic side of the crowd so while I was hopeful, I was also realistic.

We continued to talk on the phone even more. It worked out well. He was working at the Arizona Public School systems and could only work after school let out and because it was 2 hours earlier in Phoenix, my nights-free started at 7pm his time so we would sometimes talk until probably 2am. Of course, he was working the entire time but it was a lot of those deep conversations that you can really only get when your only means of communication is on the phone, not face to face and you feel more comfortable telling all your secrets. Probably something like this blog. I keep reading and editing it remembering other people will actually read it.

In March of 2003 he asked if I would come visit him in Arizona. Of course, my initial reaction was no. NO! What would I do with the kids? What would my parents say? And then, it just sort of unfolded. Bebe took the kids for the week, I just said I’m going to Phoenix and then he bought me a plane ticket and on March 27th, 2003 - I went. After several dilemmas, including losing my wallet which included my drivers license that I knew I couldn’t get on the plane without, I boarded from St. Louis International Airport and I headed off in my cute little black knock-em-dead dress. He picked me up and after 6 months, it was like we had never been apart.

He was working about 2 hours out of Phoenix so we had quite a drive and of course, talked the whole way. We got to his hotel in Show Low, Arizona and he was the epitome of a gentleman. He’d had his car brought up from Phoenix even though he had a company truck so I would have a way to get around, he had everything I could want or need right there and I was ready to have a fabulous time. That very first night he told me he had a poem that he had written for me and he wanted to read it to me. It was his story of us, condensed into a poem and it was very funny. At the very end of the poem, his face got red and he said, “I can’t finish it.” My reaction “Hell-O! FINISH IT ALREADY” And after a few hems and haws, he did. It was not at all what I expected. The last line was “Would you do me the honor of being my wife?” I think I choked. I’m sure my jaw hit the floor and for a full one tension filled minute, I just stared owl-eyed. He was the first to recover and explained that was not the reaction he was hoping for. I was still choking, I think. I look back now and think “DUDE – NO BRAINER!” But I was scared. I’d been down that road before and I had been seriously hurt, almost to the point of no recovery. And I’d come back, better than before and vowed to myself I’d never let another human being put me in the position of being so vulnerable, so defenseless and so beaten down that I couldn’t find myself anymore. And as much as I loved Robbie, I didn’t want to go back to that.

It took me two days to realize I wouldn’t be going “back to that”. It took me two days to realize I was staring at the best thing (besides my kids) that could ever happen to me. It took me two days to realize he was my soulmate and he wanted to share his life with me. So while he was 15 feet up on a ladder in a school in Show Low Arizona, I looked up at him, said “By the way.....YES!” and the rest, as they say, is history. We got married 3 months later.

There you have it. I'm sure there are more details and I'm sure I left some out but that's the 'Story of Us'.

Private Eye Babe here, reporting on the growing popularity of a previously mentioned phenomenon hitting Blogworld called…The Meme. My initial investigation has turned up some pretty interesting findings. Apparently blogging and meme’s go together like peas and carrots, or Forrest and Jen-nay. From the American Heritage Dictionary: meme (mēm) n. A unit of cultural information, such as a cultural practice or idea, that is transmitted verbally or by repeated action from one mind to another. To this point, I, too, am asking what the heck does that have to do with blogging. Let me explain further, friends. That definition apparently does not pertain to the blogging type of meme’s. In Blogworld, a meme is an idea or question that is passed among blogs. Say I post a question/statement regarding how you feel about something. An example would be to refer to my AHA blog below and then ask for any personal experiences, etc. You then share your take on it with others by talking about it on your blog, linking to mine and commenting on my post. I could name it something like ‘Tuesday’s Take’. I think even something like Wordless Wednesday would also be considered somewhat of a meme since I’ve seen it repeated on many other blogs. Not that I started that one, I copied it from someone’s blog, probably Elizabeth’s. So there you have it, folks. The meme has been explained. Private Eye Babe, at your service. I need more to investigate. Gimme ideas.

I would also like to do a little plug here for Jillian Michael’s ‘The 30 Day Shred’. It’s a relatively new workout DVD and HOLY COW is it awesome. I am loving it. Thank you, Sabrina, for suggesting it! I am on my second week and already I feel stronger and healthier. Sam and Lizzie are doing it with me, too. We’ll all be toned and firmed up and tight in no time. I have 2 girls at work that I’ve started on it. They like it as much as I do!


Ahhh…it’s Friday. What would be a good Friday Meme. Maybe I should look up what other folks are Memeing about on Friday. I think I saw one a long time ago so I’ll just do this Friday Four. Four things you cannot live without. Or Four things you think you cannot live without. Mine are as follows:

1. My God
2. My Family
3. My books
4. Mashed potatoes

There you have it. My essentials. Have a wonderful weekend and give me your Friday Four.

Did you know that there is a whole big bloggy world out there? You can do give-aways, you can get paid to blog about stuff (Fish Oil People – I want my money!), you can do these meme things ( I don’t know, I’m still researching and will make a full report once my covert mission is accomplished). I was traipsing around the blogworld and came across all these cool blogs where women do crafty things, moms do extraordinary things with their kids or husbands and then they all blog about and comment on each others crafty extraordinary family things. Is this one of those clicky things like high school? You know. OHMYGAWD Beth, look at Jenna’s new parachute pants! Lets go buy some in every color. LIKE, totally. OR is this just another way for women to reach out to other women to cope/deal/manage/empower their daily lives? I have a few blogs I read daily, or when they are updated and I don’t put them on my blogroll because I’m not sure if they would want me to link to them. I guess I could ask. I haven’t asked yet because I would feel like a cyberstalker. Although with my bloggy blinders coming off, I am thinking this would actually be acceptable behavior for me to comment a random blogger with “Hey, love your blog, can I add you to my blogroll?” Maybe I should. I’ll let you know how that one goes too.

I started thinking I might actually like to get into this click. I was never really a click kind of girl. Ok, fine. I had ONE pair of parachute pants. But I’m not sure my blog is what they are looking for. I mean, mine is for my own personal triumphs, failures, struggles. My own personal stuff. I write about whatever is going through my mind that particular day, or I use it as a soapbox to get out my views on things or just to tell the happenstance viewer about my family. I don’t do crafty, I don’t take my kids to every single opportunity thing happening, I’m not in a mom’s club, never caught the scrapbook bug, not really a big social network kind of gal. So I don’t think I am what they are looking for, let alone my blog. Not that I mind. At all. I’ve never been a conformist and I do NOT intend to start now. I do my own thing and if it’s considered IN, then well, fine. If not, well then fine too. I’m not easily swayed by fads or whatever is vogue.

I’m just amazed, though, by this blogworld that I’ve unknowingly been a part of for four years. Was this hype all going on four years ago? I have no idea. Do I want to delve myself into this all consuming world of network-come-self-journalism? I don’t think so. I will continue to post things about my life or my views or my family or the occasional goose or two. I will continue to read the blogs that interest me. I may be so inclined to add an advertisement or two, please reference the blogaholics anonymous icon in the left margin. But I don’t think I’m that ‘in’ to the rest of it. And it’s ok if you are. I thought Jenna looked awesome in her rainbow suite of parachute pants. I really did. But the swish-swish of conformity clamor just wasn’t my style then and it still isn’t.

I'm tired today and do not feel like posting much of a blog. It's been a very long week. Between Asthma, Allergies and broken arms, our little family has donated it's fair share of time to Doctors Offices, Emergency Rooms and Pharmacies since Saturday. SO - 'Wordless Wednesday' has been postponed until today - these are from our weekend at the Valley. Enjoy!