Saturday, November 23, 2013

70 days = 10 weeks

70 days = 10 weeks. that's how long we had to live at my parents house. (it was actually 74 days but who's counting). I am sad that I had to go. I liked living there, I would bring my bed there if I could and live there. it took a long time to get to where we are, (and a lot of money), but finally our apartment, our new home is completed, even down to the curtains. the hardest part, picking paint. without further ado, here are your before pictures, during and after...

 So our bedroom pretty much looks the same, and if you really want pictures, I'll post them when RB isn't asleep in the bed. You'll have to excuse some of the mess, we are still working on getting rid of things and finding places for things to go. We are pretty much settled in, we need to put up some photos, and get a diningroom table, and desk but again for the most part we are set. We have found out though that the walls are so old, our paint doesn't look good in photo's but it looks just fine in person. Also, all my original pictures I liked better because I took them at night and I like all of our lighting in this apartment, that isn't to say that the natural light isn't lovely, it just makes things look a little different.

In the mortal words of Rosemary Clooney, "C'mon a my house, a my house, I'm gonna give you some candy".... you're all welcome for a visit! xox

Sunday, November 3, 2013

Holding out for a Hero

when I was younger I swam competitively. my sport of choice was in the water. it wasn't easy, and the team I swam for wasn't filled with a ton of nice people, although, now that I think back, I suppose they were all simply being teenagers. Nevertheless, they were mean to me, I think maybe it was because I refused to follow their rules, instead I was a Misfit, a Mismatched piece of the team puzzle. Before being that teenage misfit, I was a chubby 10 year old with little to no friends on the team. I became very good friends with a boy named Tim. To this very day, 22 years later, Tim and I are friends. The kind of friends that you know no matter what will do anything for, even if you haven't seen or spoken to in months, or years. Tim is an amazing person, his wife, Kathleen just as amazing, if not more so. They produced two beautiful boys. Owen, 2+ years old and the newest addition, Ethan 6+ months. I love them. I love them all. I want to wrap a bow around them and give them as a gift to all people who need a good set of friends.

not too long ago, I got a message from Tim telling me about Owen and some serious health issues. I was heartbroken, shocked, and didn't know how or why something like this would happen, could happen to the amazing Tim and Kathleen. How come? There is no answer why, it's just simply sad. 

Owen requires a life-saving bone marrow transplant. a hero for owen is what is necessary. In an effort to help in the only way I can, I posted pictures of Owen at work, and asked that people go donate blood, plasma, and join the bone marrow donation registry. I went just yesterday in a feeble attempt at doing my part. Tim was there, shaking hands, and talking to reporters; he looked so much older than I had remembered. I wanted to cry at the sight of him, all he did was smile at me, and apologize profusely for not being in touch these last few months, (are you kidding me Timothy?!); that's simply the kind of guy he is. 

I want nothing more than good things for them, they deserve it more than anyone I know. After seeing him yesterday though, I have realized, that as much as I do not believe in A God or The God, I do believe in faith, and that life doesn't deal you a hand it doesn't think you can't handle. You have to play the cards you're dealt as best as you know how, and realize that you can handle it, otherwise it would not be in your hands. 

Even though Tim and Kathleen can handle it, and will get through, I still go to bed at night wishing, hoping, praying for only good things for them and Owen, and even though you don't know them, won't you go and do the same? 

Friday, November 1, 2013

my balls will betray me...

if you are lucky enough to have a partner in life, he or she may say some pretty hilarious things to you. RB is pretty much hilarious, he's also a giant asshole, dick-head, stupid, smart, sarcastic, and lame. he is geeky, nerdy, plays fantasy sports, love "start wars" and the "godfather". he wants nothing more in this life to have children and i'm almost positive, drive me completely insane. he is a royal pain in the pahtootie. he, like many other men in the world, want a son. he wants a son for all the reasons i might want a daughter and then also because he can relate to having a son being that he is someone's son. (mind you if i have a son, i would want him to be gay- happy, and also homosexual). In reality, we both really want a healthy, happy kid, and that's the most important thing of all.

we often have the "what-if" conversations many couples and friends have with one another, and after a simple chat about children, RB stated something, all i can really remember from the chat is the following, RB:"...when we have our son...", me: "well it's really up to you, my body doesn't decide gender, yours does." RB: "i know it does and that's why i know my balls will betray me." 

(fingers crossed that if in fact we ever produce offspring, his balls will betray him).