I Cry at Weddings

Yesterday, Greg & I went to a wedding of a dear friend of mine.

I remember when she met her husband.  I remember how happy he made (makes) her.

It made me cry.

I cried at the homily.  I cried at the Ave Maria.  I cried at the vows.  I cried at the final blessing. 

Then I went to the reception.

I cried at the toast.  I cried at the father-daughter dance.  I cried at the mother-son dance.  

I can't help it.  It was beautiful.

I haven't been to a wedding in a very long time.  This wedding was really, really great.

The pianist at the mass was world renowned musician Lee Gwodz.  This is the guy that the Pope has over to perform at Christmas.  And he lives in my town.  And he also works out with me.  So he usually sees me sweating in a skort.  I didn't wear a skort to the wedding.

When I went over to say hello, he told me I looked gorgeous.  He meant it.  Kinda made the day that much better for me.

Between the wedding and the reception, Greg & I went for a drink.  We were all dressed up, in a restaurant with no kids.  It was a date.  A fun, flirty, fantastic date.  We reminisced about our wedding and talked of our future.  He did the little things that make me swoon -- held my hand in the street, opened my door, helped me into the truck. . ."boyfriend" stuff.  Only we've been married for almost 19 years. 

At the reception, we spent time with awesome people.  You know how you go someplace like church or the grocery store or someplace and you see people there who you know by sight but you've never actually met?  There was a couple there who goes to our church.  Their kids are older than our kids, so we aren't in the same circles.  We finally introduced ourselves and you know what?  We like them.  We like them a lot.  We are definitely going to be friends with them.

We also saw friends that we just don't get to see enough.  They are "our" friends, but in all actuality, they are "my" friends because I am the one who really knows them.  They were in my leadership class -- that is how I know the bride -- and they know Greg, but they don't really know Greg.  Greg is polite and pleasant but he is not naturally outgoing.  Everybody likes him, but not everybody "gets" him.

And that was the best part of the evening.  As we talked and joked and laughed, they got to know my Greg. 

Then we started dancing.  No one is surprised when I dance crazy, but Greg doesn't come across like a party animal.

He totally is.

And the more we danced, and laughed, and danced some more, the more my friends were falling in love with Greg.  They got to see him the way I know him -- fun and silly and up for anything.  It was so awesome to see that realization on their faces. 

I love weddings.  They make me cry.

Here's wishing Beth and Bert the same happiness that we've had for 19 years!

 


 

No Mail Today

We don't get mail today.

Because it's Veteran's Day.

GOOD!  We don't need mail.  We need to gather our children, get on our knees and thank God for our military and military families.

We need to explain to our children what this country means to us.  We need to set an example of how to be a good American.

Here are some things you can do today to be a good American:

1. Pledge your allegiance.  Seriously. 

2. Pick up a piece of garbage somewhere.  I know you don't have to.  I know you didn't put it there.  Pick it up anyway.  Want to be totally crazy set an example for the whole community?  Next time you are at a stoplight, put your car in park, get out of the car & take a piece of trash off the road.  Be safe -- don't go into traffic or anything.  But show others how to care for our country.

3. Be respectful and kind to people from other countries.  Especially immigrants.  We have a great nation, and great nations honor their neighbors.

4. Thank those who serve.  In the military, our firefighters, our police, our teachers, our sanitation workers, our service workers -- even in retail.  If you see someone serving others, thank them.

5. Say a prayer of Thanksgiving.

Thank YOU.  Thank you for reading me, for being supportive of me, for correcting me when I need it (and even when I don't). 

God Bless America!

Should I laugh, or should I cry?

I have a close friend whose oldest child is a freshman at Texas Tech.  Texas Tech is in Lubbock, and it's pretty far from Corpus Christi. 

That makes moms worry.

It especially makes moms worry when their oldest child is an attractive, vivacious 18 year old girl.

This particular girl, Heather, is the nicest kid you can imagine.  She babysat for us occasionally, and my boys love her.  Heather is the kind of kid that makes you think that having teens might be OK.

It's still hard on her mom.

This is the e-mail I got from Amy (Heather's Mom) today:

So I read on my daughter’s FB post to her friend, “Sorry, but I had to delete your post because my Mama doesn’t know anything about that.”


Ok, I tried to let it go, but I couldn’t…she IS a teenager and that IS her “wild friend” so I texted her, “Ok, you sparked my curiosity, what doesn’t Mama know.”

About 30 minutes pass and no responsive text and then my phone rings……

“Hi, Mama, what’s up”

“That’s what I want to know”

“What do you mean? I didn’t understand your text, what do you want to know?”

“Oh please Heather, I’m talking about your FB post….”

“What?”

“So you’re going to sit there and play innocent…..remember, I was a teenager once and I’m also not naive so I know that you AND your brother do stuff I don’t know about…”

“Mom…..”

“The evidence is there, Heather, don’t deny it…..you get mad because you think I’m “creeping” on your FB but the truth is you don’t call or write me that often so I have to find out through YOUR FRIENDS what’s going on in your life (I’m choking back tears here)…..I always want you and I have to have a close relationship (now I’m crying) and that you could feel like you could tell me anything. So if you’re not going to tell me what you did, let me ask you one thing, ‘are you still a virgin’?” (You know me, the eternal pessimist and Queen of Gloom and Doom)

“Mom! GAH! Yes, I am……listen, can I call you back in 5 minutes”

“Fine!” And I hung up…I figured she was going outside so her friends wouldn’t hear her discussions with me in her dorm.

So I open my front door and Pete sees me crying…..”what’s wrong?”

“Oh, I just had a fight with your daughter….”

AND OUT SHE STEPS FROM BEHIND PETE…..THE POST HAD TO DO WITH HER COMING HOME AND SHE WANTED TO SURPRISE ME…WHAT A LOSER I AM!!!!!!!

On the one hand, this cracks me up.  Heather is the nicest kid!  She's still a college student though.  And, as Amy pointed out to her, we've all been teenagers before.  My heart sort of breaks for Amy, because I know how upset she was.  And I know that I am only a few short years away from having teens of my own.

What do you think?  Laugh or cry?

In honor of my wedding anniversary. . . .

This photo was taken on October 10, 1992.

I used to keep it on my desk at my job in a staffing agency.

One day in 1999 an acquaintance came by for help with her resume. 

Her: "Is this YOU?"

Me: "Yep."  (Internal me: uhh. . .Duh.  Of course it's me.)

Her: "Are you still married?"

Me:  "Yes.  We've been married about 7 years already."  (Internal me:  How many divorced people keep their wedding photos on their desks?  Dumbshit.)

Her: "So that's your husband"

Me: "Yes"  (Internal me: No -- that's the waiter. Cheezus.)

Her: "He's very good looking"

Me: "Thank you"  (Internal me: Damn straight!)

Her:  "I mean, he's really good looking"

Me: "Thank you"  (Internal me: yeah -- you said that)

Her: "I mean. . . .I mean, he's SO good looking!"

Me: "Yes, he really is".  (Internal me: WTF?)

Her: "I just can't get over how good looking he is.  Not that your husband wouldn't be good looking.  But he's really good looking"

Me: "Thanks.  Very much.  Now -- about your resume. . ." (Internal me:  You think he's too good looking for me.  OMG.  You think I should be married to someone who looks like Louie Anderson.  You are a real bitch).

I haven't seen her for several years. ..I  kinda doubt she's reading my blog.  But if I ever see her again, know what I'm gonna say?

Me: "After 18 years and 3 children he's still great looking.  We still can't get enough of each other either.  So suck it, bitch!"

If you see her, give her the message, willya?

Crushes, Puppy Love and The Real Thing

There are some men that I think are dreamy.   You know what I mean.  They make me sigh.  And swoon.  And giggle.  I guess you could say I have a crush on them.

My boss is dreamy.  He is.  He's about 6'2", slim, with a lantern jaw, bright blue eyes and silver hair.  He is also the consummate southern gentleman.  I've always thought he was very handsome, but now that I really know him, I simply adore him.  He is as beautiful inside as out.

Dr. Mark Escamilla is dreamy.  Yes, he's very nice looking, but his dreaminess is more because he is so innovative, so connected, and so real.  He also has the most beautiful family -- lovely wife and 2 precious littles.  I swear I'd give the man a kidney if he needed it.

Vic is dreamy.  I mean it's obvious.  Incredibly fit, handsome, and so encouraging on my fitness journey. 

I even have a tiny bit of a cougar-crush on Ricky, who is Vic's assistant.  He is just the nicest guy.  Also very handsome, if you think Leonardo De Caprio is handsome -- and I know you do. 

I love these guys.  I do. When I get all swoony over Dr. Mark, or Vic, or any of the many many many men (and women) that I have a crush on, the casual observer may misconstrue my intentions.



Because I don't wanna kiss them or anything. 

I don't want  my children to look like them. 

I don't want to grow old with any of them.  (In fact, I am pretty sure I will be dead by the time Ricky is old)

The man I really love is Greg, my husband.  He's the one I want to kiss, etc.    He's the one my babies look like.  He's the one I want to grow old with.

Greg knows that I think the world of these people.  He also knows that he is my whole world. 

And he knows I think he's super dreamy.