Confessions

That's me, age 2! Always dressing for a special occasion.

Even as a child, I use to think about what my future family was going to look like.  When I met new families, I would reflect on which of their traits I wanted my family to have.  Later in high school and college, I thought in more depth about the kind of life I’d like to have with my husband and children.  How many we’d have.  The sports we’d play.  The vacations we could take.

I sometimes felt desperate to know how everything was going to turn out.  Sometimes, I felt doomed to live a spinster life because there was to perfect match for me.

 

#SOCsunday

And then one day, I got engaged (literally we went from friends to engaged), and I suddenly felt silly for being so …desperate.  I said to myself, “I can’t believe it’s actually here.  Now I know who that person is going to be.”  So I began fantasizing about how great our married life was going to be…

I did eventually learn my lesson that creating expectations can actually ruin an event, a relationship, or a career.  My first year of marriage was tough, because I was so busy rebuking the expectations I had wildly created.  I had to slow down and look at how my relationship with my husband was really developing, not how I assumed it would.

That’s when I learned the most important key to a good relationship:  acceptance.

Once I began accepting him for him, me for me, and us for us, our marriage flourished!  In fact, it’s turned into a better relationship full of more opportunities than I could have even fantasized on my own.

You may be feeling desperate like I did for something to happen. Or you might already be chugging along on your “plan”.  Stop and think for a minute about the relationships you have.  Are you really accepting those people?  Are you really loving your children for being their quirky selves?  Are you trying to upkeep an image you created before you had the information you do now?

Live in the moment.  Accept.  Be.

That's Milli, age 2. Fashion runs in the family.

This was my 5 minute Stream of Consciousness Sunday post. It’s five minutes of your time and a brain dump. Want to try it? Here are the rules…

  • Set a timer and write for 5 minutes only.
  • Write an intro to the post if you want but don’t edit the post. No proofreading or spellchecking. This is writing in the raw.
  • Publish it somewhere. Anywhere. The back door to your blog if you want. But make it accessible.
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  • Link up your post below.
  • Visit your fellow bloggers and show some love.

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We’ve been married for four years today!  It’s been 11.5 years since our first kiss. 14 years since we first met.

I knew I was in love when I was thirteen years old.  I knew I was in love when we had those awkward phone calls that tweens have.

I knew I was in love when you’d hang up from those awkward phone calls to walk to the nursing home to visit your Grandma Kate.

I knew I was in love when you gifted me a flower planted in an upside-down lampshade.

I knew I was in love when you dressed me in the family rags to go berry-picking at your grandma’s.

I knew I was in love when you gave me an inflatable flower inter tube for my 20th birthday knowing I’d never use it for swimming.

I knew I was in love when you tutored me for 30 minutes before throwing me into a poker tournament as a dealer, because you knew I could do it.

I knew I was in love when you agreed to marry me even though we weren’t dating [Our poor family, guess nothing surprises them by now].

I knew I was in love when you sang “Man in the Mirror” for a week after Michael Jackson died.

I knew I was in love when you laid in the recliner holding Milligan the first night she was born, and the 300 nights that followed.

I knew I was in love when you agreed to tackle our insane idea of selling everything and moving abroad.

I know I’m in love with you now, because you love me, feisty ol’ me, just the way I am.

And I know I’m in love with you right now, because every “I knew I was in love” could be exchanged with I knew you were my best friend” and still make sense.

Happy Anniversary Dumpkin, Bumpkin, Smoochy-coo (a.k.a. @ManvsDebt)!

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I have a little critter that lives with me. She eats goldfish and sings Bohemian Rhapsody.  She has charcoaled feet and frequently wears her clothes backwards.  She scales the furniture and dances all day long.

Well, when she’s not pooing, eating, or blowing bubbles.  We’ve grown pretty fond of her and call her Milligan.  Or Milli.  Or stink-butt.  And she calls us, “Honey!”

Milligan, you are my fudge on a triple decker hot fudge sundae.

And I know you can “Do it myself”, it’s just that I remember you like this:

And you couldn’t do it yourself.  And I thought you might need your mommy forever.  Well at least until you turn 25, when I scoot you out with a pat on the rump.  And no boyfriends until then.

Or ever for that matter…  I just want you to fall in love right away with the perfect man that will treat you like a princess from Day 1.  Okay?  Okay, then.

And don’t worry, we’ll get your shoes on the right feet and pants facing forward by then.

Milligan, you are the citrus of an orange.  The cinnamon of a muffin.  The salt of a freedom fry. And at this very moment, you are sitting on the couch eating fruit snacks wearing a helmet.  A gosh, darn helmet!

You are a thinker and dreamer.  You are my baby girl, and I will kiss you goodnight every night you let me.  Okay, Okay and Pooh Bear, and elephant, and Woody, and duck, and guy, and baby… they all can have kisses too!

Milligan, Milligan
I love you, and you love me
Milligan, Milligan
Product of Daddy and Me
Milligan, Milligan
Ten little toes on two feet
Milligan, Milligan
Don’t know what color your eyes will be
Milligan, Milligan
Tweety, sweety, and sweatpea
Milligan, Milligan
Pink, purple, and green
Milligan, Milligan
Now it’s time for her to sleep
Now it’s time for her to sleep

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