sedan love

Last week Shea called me while driving a minivan.

"It's beautiful. So ridiculously cool! It has a center console where you can set things."

Then he came home two days later, still swooning about this beautiful ride while I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they'd fall out.

The minivan turned 30 this year.  I'll admit, the van-car style come along away since the 1984 Dodge Caravan (half car half van, get it?) with its boxy design and and fake wood paneling.

It's not that I don't want a van. I mean, I guess the leg room would be nice. Changing diapers without hunching over would definitely be an improvement. A door that opened on its own would probably change my grocery store with toddler stress mess.

But, then I look at my backseat and see the chaos of cracker crumbs and trains. Imagine when we actually had more room to spread out and get comfortable. Do car detailing shops have monthly memberships?

Plus it's just so big. I can barely fit my car in the garage now between all the storage, sand toys, lawn mower and Christmas decorations. And the horrid gas mileage.

We fit in our cars. Henry is still in his infant carrier seat at 2 years old. We're small, mighty and suited for sedans.

And guess what? They even have consoles where we can set things with built-in cup holders!

two years with you

Ginn,

Last year, I wrote about how everything had changed in our first year of marriage. I think it's safe to say even more has changed in our second year.

You supported me as I spent weekends running crazy miles to prepare for the half marathon.

I supported you through a job search and the eventually landing of a great new career! We did grad school together. We dressed up like gnomes.

We went to Belize where we climbed pyramids, drank coconut water, biked along the ocean and swam through caves.

This year we found out we were pregnant, and then went through nine months of physical and emotional changes as we prepared to welcome our son into the world. And then just two and a half weeks ago, he arrived in dramatic fashion. In the few hours of intense pain, I learned to put my trust in you in a way that I never had. Trusting you to be my advocate, to take care of me, to carry me through.

Postpartum, I laugh thinking of the barriers childbirth and recovery breaks down. Discussions I never thought we'd have or supplies I never thought I'd ask for you to pick up at Walgreens. But you've done it all with such ease, humor and kindness making me proud we are this close, even in the weirdest, most vulnerable moments.

Since Henry's arrival we've had moments of awe at what our love created and moments of tears wondering how we will make this all work and still have time for our marriage. Right now we're drowning in diapers, laundry, sleep deprivation and meals from boxes. And it's all a bit overwhelming. But as you tell me daily, we'll get through it together.

The reward is watching you with Henry. They way you obsessively take his picture, smile at his every expression, willingly get up for all the diaper changes at 3 a.m., 4 a.m., 5 a.m... Thinking about you teaching Henry how to be a man just makes me love you more.

I love us and the life we've created. One that we're proud of.

Happy two years Ginny.

Love you forever,
Ricee

never the same again

 
One of my favorite things is coming home to Shea, making a dinner of random leftovers (first step, check for mold) and watching four episodes of whatever show from two years ago we're watching through Netflix until we fall asleep on the couch.

Or the days we carpool to work, and on the way home we eat dinner at whatever restaurant we drive by that looks appealing.

Or when we get up early to run at the gym together. You know, before the pregnant.

Or Saturday mornings when we sleep in, he brings me pancakes in bed, and we leisurely run errands the rest of the day - just enjoying the Target aisles.

Or when we take trips because we saved up enough points or found a good airline deal, and find the most random, local things to do. Like cave tubing in Belize, pizza-eating in Breckenridge, mountain biking in Arkansas, presidential estate touring in Nashville or sushi-eating in San Francisco.

It was reflecting on the awesomeness of marriage that led to the biggest pregnancy meltdown thus far. Because folks, I really love my marriage. My non-baby, just-us marriage.

This whole baby thing is on purpose, and this boy is going to be loved to the moon and back. And I feel overwhelmingly blessed and lucky to have this little baby coming our way. But his coming also means the closing of yet another chapter. When we got married, I had that knot in my stomach and frequently teared up about the transition from daughter to wife. I read a book about not only the craziness and joy of weddings but the side feelings of grief as a woman transitions into her new identity. 

Transitioning to motherhood has got to be an even bigger switch. They say 80 percent of new mothers experience "baby blues" with 15 percent of those actually diagnosed with postpartum depression. So it's not a transition that just comes easily to all women.

I know that in a few weeks it will seem like we've always been parents. And we won't want to be watching Netflix on the couch but will be staring into a crib in awe of what we created. And I know that I'll love Shea even more because he's the father of my child.

But for at least tonight, I'm going to fall asleep on the couch with my head on Shea's chest. And no matter how many days we have as just the two of us, I'll cherish every single one of them.

to my favorite fathers

To my father, 

You helped me become the woman I am today. You've taught me many things - things I am still discovering today. As I face the job of parent in the next two months, I realize more and more the thought and immense love that went into shaping my life. The sacrifices, the anxiety and the joy. 

I'm excited to see you with your grandson. To help shape his life - teach him how to identify crops in the field, how to paint the house and properly mow a lawn. I hope he looks to you for advice when Shea and I don't have the answers. I hope he experiences the passion of a K-State/KU basketball game with his fanatical grandpa. I hope he learns the stories from your travels, understands the importance of climate change and gets it when he sees the awards hanging in your office.

Thank you for loving my mom, and loving her more as her belly grew. Thank you for rubbing her back and bringing home special treats when she was hot, tired or grouchy. Thank you for the moments before and after my birth when you spent time thinking about what makes the best kind of father. You did good, if I do say so my self.

Love, 

Your daughter

To Shea, the father-to-be,

I hope that the love you feel the first time you see your son's face is so great it feels as if your heart will explode. That everything they say is true - you never realized you could love this much.

I hope the sleepless nights, the hormonal wife, the poopy diapers and the exasperating cries feel more like a privilege than a chore.

I hope our little boy grows up to be a man like you. One that loves God. Respects, cherishes and honors his wife. Works hard. Has joy for baseball or chemistry or whatever he loves most.

I hope you stick to your convictions in the hard moments when being a dad is just plain hard. Even when he screams that he hates us or we realize the other parents are letting their kids do that.

I hope we're always a team. That the love between us makes us even better parents. And that when we're done being full-time parents, we realize our marriage is even stronger than before.

I hope that being a father is one of the biggest blessings in your life. I hope you develop a father-son bond you're proud of.

Our little guy is the luckiest. You'll do great.

Love, 

Your partner-in-crime

the day we don't celebrate

We don't do Valentines Day usually. It's so predictable. The crowded restaurants, the prix fixe menus, the mediocre-tasting chocolate hearts, the cheesy stuffed animals holding satin hearts.

We were at Hallmark buying cards this weekend (because cards are always acceptable) and witnessed a poor boyfriend desperately trying to buy some charms and connectors for a bracelet. As we walked out, I reminded Shea how awesome of a wife I am for expecting nothing especially jewelry.

We're very big into celebrating the overwhelming love of our marriage. We have fun traditions. There are notes on the mirror. Fun costumes. Random trips. Anniversary celebrations. But we celebrate it everyday. Not just on a manufactured holiday in February.

Today I'm working at my desk and look up to see my extremely handsome husband walking down the hall with this.

This weekend I was whining a lot about how I feel fat. And I've developed love handles that were never there before. And my pants don't always button. And I'm breaking out. And my hair is oily. And I burp like a high school boy. I know it's good for me and for the little baby. But right now it's not glowing or cute, it's just icky fat feeling.

So the card attached to this pretty plant showed a husband waiting in his car for his wife whose hair was in curlers as she trying to clasp her bra around her fat. And read: "I love you just the way you are." It made me cry (because everything does these days). 

I'm lucky to have a husband who loves my developing love handles, soft belly, zits and all. And he'll love me just as much when my body tends to resemble a whale. And then in eight months when the belly is gone but my runner's body is a distance memory.

I love, love, LOVE him. But not because it's Feb. 14. Because it's Monday.

happy birthday to the hubs

Shea,

I wish I would have known you when you wore this outfit. I would have kissed those little cheeks and straightened your little tie.

I wish I would have known you when you were collecting pewter figurines for no apparent reason. Or when you flipped through your thousands of baseball cards. Or fought with your X-Men. Or danced your way to stardom.

I wish I would have known you when you played baseball, stuffed your face with big league chew and dominated center field.

I wish I would have known you when you attended your proms, chose your college and took out all those loans.

I wish I would have known you when you lived in a house with 12 guys... well, not really.

I wish I would have known you when you graduated from college, bought your condo, suffered through your first jobs. When you adopted Mac and ate spaghetti every night for dinner.

But I'm really glad I get to know you (and be married to you!) for the rest of our lives.

Happy 27th birthday!

Love,
Wifey

Halloween past and present

Though I don't appreciate the scary aspects, I do love coming up with costume ideas with my Halloween-obsessed husband.We've had some good ones.

2008

Juno and Paulie Bleeker

 

2009
Clue Characters

2010

Gnomes

Happy Halloween!

a year with you

Dear Ginnny,
A year ago we had a lot on our minds. There were people, programs, vow books, photographers, red shoes and cupcakes to worry about. Every single worry and frantic trip to Michaels/The Container Store/Sam's Club was worth it because that day was the best of my life thus far. There are far too many days when my heart aches to do it all over again.

However, after being your wife for one year now, I am blessed by the simple things. Falling asleep on your chest. Sharing a bowl of popcorn. Trying a new restaurant. Learning to tango and foxtrot. Your predictable "drive safe" instruction whenever we part. Saturday morning pancakes followed by a long run and the farmers market. Making cookies, mountain biking and baseball games.

I love that we have no drama. That when the world is spinning around us, our marriage is the unmovable core. It's definitely been a crazy year. We moved to another state. Attended weddings and a funeral. Became landlords. Adopted a kitten. Explored a new city and started new jobs. Found a new church and new small groups. Went from a modern condo to an apartment with a lot of character. Left our friends to find new ones.

Almost everything has changed. In this year, I have learned that we're still us no matter where we live or who we are friends with. I've learned we're even stronger in our marriage when we're surrounded by positive, encouraging people who share our passions and values. I've learned that although I love downing a bottle of wine with you while watching endless episodes of Dexter, I'm super excited for our next steps in life no matter what God has in store. I've learned that following our own passions provides an incredible opportunity to cheer from the sidelines.

It was a year of changes, learning, adjusting and a whole lot of fun. Thank you for choosing me every day.

I love you with all that I am and will ever be.

Your Ricee

field of dreams

Back in May, Shea, the self-appointed biggest Twins fan in the world, was already upset that people had already been to the new stadium - Target Field - and he had not.

On Sunday afternoon he was redeemed. Big time.

 {He is containing his urge to jump up and down like a little boy at the circus}

We got to the game two hours early so that we could take in all the stadium features without rushing. The Metrodome has clearly been put to shame. For example, what could be more Minnesota than an entire concession stand dedicated to fried food on sticks?

And then we made it to our seats, which were a nice cushy leather. We even had our own personal lounge with concession stands and bathrooms.

{Shea's head pretty much exploded when realizing row five was the dugout box}

 

Here is our view. I can confirm that Joe Mauer's hips and thighs are as large as they appear on TV.

We got numerous texts from people who saw us on TV every time there was a left-handed batter, which is kind of a lot of pressure for me to be smiling when the Twins are down by three. And then, ninth inning, the Twins score four and win. Hopefully WGN caught us hands in the air, jumping up and down like super fans.

We had an AMAZING time.

Thanks to Gene at Gittleson's Jewelers for the tickets! Can we make this an annual tradition?

neighborhood baseball

Last night we went to a baseball game for a charter school in our neighborhood that has a close relationship with my employer as well as the Kansas City Chiefs. We're hoping to get more involved since not only is it just a few blocks away but one of the teachers and baseball coaches is a member of our church.

I know this is super awesome photography. Be jealous.

Shea is hoping to be able to coach at this inner-city school next year, but first we will get training as a YouthFriend volunteer, which is a Kansas City organization dedicated to provided mentors to local school children. The Derrick Thomas Academy is a public charter school with free tuition with a 92 percent African-American student population. The school is set up as a local educational agency so its federal and state funding don't have to be funneled through the failing KCMO school district. Over 75 percent of the students are on a free or reduced lunch plan.

The parents we sat with at the game were way fun but I am sure were completely baffled as to why we were there. Especially considering Shea was whispering his baseball strategy after each play. He's a coach at heart!

Plus there was this amazing sunset.

Hopefully next spring I'll be there as the coach's wife/team's biggest fan.

only God knows

When Shea had a job that involved frequent travel, we got to rack up Hilton points as if we were Paris' cousins. We got a free week of honeymoon hotel out of it which freed up our money to buy me a lot of popcorn and lemonade.


We have a few points left that need to be used up by the end of the year. So we've been watching the Hilton rewards site waiting for them to post the "point stretcher" weekends that basically means we go when they tell us to and our one night worth of points turns into two. Since we're cheap but fun we're all over it.


We spent a very long time listing all the places that are within eight hours driving of us. Memphis, Louisville, Little Rock, Omaha, Oklahoma City, Dallas. But because we both have this incessant pleasing need, we had to play the "pick your top three, type and send" on G-Chat game.


Me: Memphis, St. Louis, Louisville.
Shea typing. Shea stops typing.

Me: If you change your answers, God will know.
Shea typing.
Shea: St. Louis, Louisville, OK City


I will never know if he changed his answers. He really probably wanted to go to Omaha. For the furniture store. Needless to say, we're going to St. Louis in November sometime. Because Hilton told us we had to. Your suggestions are welcome.