My Valentine

I'm one lucky lady.

February 11

Exactly five years ago I enjoyed the first cup of coffee with my now husband. We had been told of each other by a mutual friend (still so thankful that he thought to match the two of us up) and were finally meeting. Joel and his wingmen plus myself and my wingwoman all sat at a 24-hour Starbucks chatting about music and ministry and movies we liked. I told him about the trip to Italy I was about to take with my wingwoman, Maja. He told me about working at a church and how much he loved the Cubs. Honestly, I only half listened as he talked, I was so busy taking him in- the smile lines on the corners of his eyes, his short dark hair, the sound of his voice. I remember he drank his coffee black, which I found incredibly foxy. He was intoxicating from the start. After coffee, I got in the car with Maja and headed home, wondering if I would see this man again. Thankfully, I did. 

Yet another thing I love about my husband...

When my husband was young, he received some evergreen seeds as a toy in a McDonalds Happy Meal. Others might have thrown the seeds away, but this guy planted those seeds in his backyard and watered them every day faithfully. The tree is now a stately pine, towering over the house. I love this. My husband was a visionary even then.

On Thanksgiving, Joel and I drove by his old house and marveled at the tree. I looked at my husband and felt overwhelmed that I was the blessed woman that got to be his wife. Also, I felt reassured that if we ever need a back-up plan, Joel could make quite the woodsman.

Kitchen failure

Last night I cooked easily the worst dinner ever. I've made several tasty meals in a row and I think I let me confidence get the best of me. On the menu for the evening was stroganoff. All would have gone fine if I would have followed my mom's recipe, but of course I thought of myself as a cooking master and got liberal with the ingredient swapping. I didn't have any cream of mushroom soup, so I substituted beef broth. First mistake. I didn't have regular sour cream so I used fat-free. Second mistake. What started as a creative idea ended as a soupy-salty-grayish mess. My husband took one bite and said with a smile, "That's a strong taste. It's interesting." Never what the chef wants to hear. Suffice to say, last night was not my finest showing of cooking skills!
We threw the whole mess out and got take-out. And then we laughed about it. I love being married to that man!

Just a few more days...

When your husband works at a large, thriving church, you know getting into the marriage that there will be weeks where you are husbandless. Seasons come and go where the production ministry is in high demand and Joel and I are ships passing in the night...or really, in the early hours of morning. I would love to say that I always handle these crazy times with grace and support. Praise the Lord that His transforming love is changing me and that grace seems to flow easier than it used to in early marriage. One thing though that is always the same when weeks like these come around is how much I miss Joel. Our house is too quiet like everything is waiting for his return. Just a few more days and he'll be home.

Tonight I am baking cinnamon rolls as a sweet breakfast surprise for my phantom husband. Chalk up one more wife point for me!

Date night, date night, date night!!!!

For the first two years of married life, I did not fully appreciate the power of date night. See, I didn't have a baby that required a sitter and therefore my handsome Lovie and I could go out on a respectable date really whenever we wanted to. Coffee run? Date! Home depot to buy a new hammer? Date! I don't feel like cooking so let's go out for pizza? Amazing date! Now a date night requires planning, much debate over what to wear, and most importantly childcare. Thankfully, the Roziers watched Ainsley tonight and the Mr. and I went out for a night on the town! Two big bowls of pasta and one slightly too long sports movie. An excellent Friday night, if you ask me.

Ainsley's spectacular birthday week...

 I am so thrilled to post some pictures from Ainsley's birthday week. In one week, our little lady had three birthday celebrations. Prepare yourself for a lot of pictures!

On Monday we had a joint birthday party with Ainsley's one day younger friend, Maverick. She wore a red polka dot dress and new shoes. I teared up several times just watching our friends and their kids play with my kid. Community is a true blessing from the Lord.

 If you're itching to see a little video of the birthday babes tearing into their cake, watch this video!

On Ainsley's actual birthday we had a quiet three guest party- the birthday lady, my foxy husband, and me. We played with her new picnic basket (thanks, Kristi!) ate macaroni-and-cheese, and went out for gelato. Ainsley might not have loved the Elmo cake from her birthday party but she was quite into the strawberry gelato!

Finally, on Sunday we had a family party for this one year old Miss. BOTH sides of our family make the trek to Elgin. I baked three dozen cupcakes from scratch, making myself very proud. Everyone sat around talking, eating, and laughing- the perfect birthday party. 

When the last guest had left and the last piece of wrapping paper was picked up off of our hardwood floors, I sat outside on our deck with my husband and felt oddly sad. My daughter is no longer an infant. While moments of this past year were really stretching for us, it has easily been the fullest, most joyful year of my life...and now it is done. When Ainsley was first born, a good friend told me that the days will be long but the years will be short. This year was so very short. Challenging, messy, humbling, memorable, fun and short. 

The party girl was a little pooped after all the merriment had ceased. 

Date night coffee with my favorite coffee snob

On our first official date, Joel and I closed down a Starbucks drinking Verona blend and telling stories. From the start I found that man captivating. Now, hundreds of coffee dates later, we can still close down coffee shops drinking immensely better blends, captivated by each other.

It's up to you, New York

Since I've been on summer vacation, I've started awarding myself a small weekly luxury. At some point in the week I spend one of Ainsley's naptimes lounging on the couch with a cup of coffee and the cinematic brilliance that is You've Got Mail. Yes, I watch You've Got Mail every single week. I love the chemistry between Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan. I love the romance in the words they write to eachother, so clever and memorable. I also love the dress that Kathleen Kelly is wearing at the end when she finally realizes that NY152 is actually Joe Fox.  As I type this, the scene where the two are at Zabars and Joe charms the salesclerk is playing. "Rose, that's a beautiful name. Rose." Love it.
I also appreciate that this movie makes any viewer want to go to New York City. Last year, I made my maiden voyage to that notorious town. Though Joel was a bit under the weather throughout our short two day trip, he was a trooper, escorting me to as many tourist sites possible. There were stops I had to make- Rockefeller Center, Statue of Liberty, Chelsea Market, Broadway, Times Square, Soho- we were exhausted by the time we left.
As I watch You've Got Mail yet another time, I can't help but feel nostalgic about our own New York travels.

We started our first day with a stroll around Central Park and a cup of coffee

I'm a fan. I'll admit it. And yes, I was pregnant during the trip. Quite a bit pregnant.

No New York trip would be complete without a trip to Broadway.

At the top of the Rock. 

In sickness and in health...

Today was a long day. Parts were lovely; my mom and sister came to town with my nieces and nephew in tow. We ran through the fountains at the park, played card games, ate tamales- all fine summer things. Sadly though, Ainsley didn't enjoy any of it. She's a bit under the weather, nicely put. Today I have been sneezed, drooled, and thrown-up on and somehow live to blog about it. My little birdie girl is a sad state of affairs.
But when my little invalid was at her worst, my husband came home from work and somehow turned an exhausting day into a wonderfully memorable one. He snatched up Ainsley and somehow got her to sleep- he's her hero already. He ordered us dinner from the pub downstairs and we feasted on tuna melts out on our deck. He challenged me to a game of Ticket to Ride and was so gracious when I beat him (haha). And then he sat and listened to every messy detail of my day. This man is too much, I tell you.
Tomorrow I'm Missouri-bound with my dear friend, Joanna. Excited. So very excited.

Daddy's girl

Winding down after a long day.

Date night Haiku

Perfect summer night

long walks, ice cream, closest friend

Still twitterpated.

Molly's Cupcakes

I believe that cupcakes are the perfect dessert. Cupcakes are not so big that I writhe in self-loathing the minute I finish, but substantial enough to feel like a treat. These little morsels are the perfect blank canvas to welcome creativity and invention. AND they're somewhat trendy. My favorite, favorite, favorite cupcake spot is this quaint cafe in Lincoln Park, Molly's Cupcakes. My husband and I first discovered Molly's a year ago when we were craving cupcakes but were too far from our former favorite spot, MORE.  So we hiked up to Molly's and chose 3 different flavors- did I mention that we had cupcakes for dinner? The Ron Bennington, Molly's signature, was decadent with its peanut butter filling and rich chocolate ganache topping. The Peanut Butter Nutella (we love peanut butter) was all things spectacular, as nutella often is. BUT, my favorite by far was the Blueberry Cheesecake. My mouth is salivating a little just thinking about the creamy cake topped with sugared blueberries. Delicious. Since this first trip, Joel and I have taken several friends and family members to Molly's, never to leave disappointed. Perhaps for date night tomorrow we will head down to grab an Intelligentsia coffee and a Molly's cupcake. A perfect date night, if you ask me.

The love of a good man

The Smith ladies are sick. The lone Smith man is holding up the fort. He's bringing me tea and wiping the lady's nose...he's a husband hero tonight. So as I sit in my bed, drinking mint tea and surrounded with kleenex, I will write him a wee haiku to say how much I truly love that man.

body, head aching
drawn bath, hot tea, free childcare
Your tangible love

I am blessed among women. Sick...but blessed.