Stressing over Stress

It's that time of the year again. The push of three holidays right in a row. The shorter days that turn into very long nights. Family interactions that can either be uplifting or a complete nightmare. Social events where people expect you not only to show up, but participate like a normal human in a normal society. All in all, it is the most wonderful time of the year, but it's also the most stressful time of the year.

Yeah, yeah.....I know. If you follow me at all on any social media outlet, you know I talk about my stress level. It usually peaks around holidays because of the type of business that I run, but it also pretty much runs me ragged just about any time of the year. So I decided to sit down and try to identify some of the root causes for me and hope that it might just help you identify yours!

So I here I sit with my pen and paper wondering why in the world am I so stressed out. It's more than just a hectic work schedule, balancing three kids and a husband, a barely existent social life and crazy holiday activities. There are root causes as to what gets me to the point where I am ready to have a panic attack and crawl into bed to never come out.

First thing I write down--I think I am in control of EVERYTHING. I am not kidding. I am that person that thinks that they can juggle a lot of balls and the performance will come out something like a stellar cirque du soleil act. You know, the ones where people flip around on strings and bars and do amazing things. Well, probably not while juggling, but you get my point. And the truth is, I am more like that kid in clown school who is just learning how to juggle with two feet planted on the ground. And it's not turning out quite like he planned. The balls inevitably fall and I find myself failing in not just one area but two or three. The stress rises as each ball flies into the air. With each one that I don't catch, it starts to take my breath away until I feel like I need an oxygen tank to keep going.

Not only do I take on and try to control a lot, I hate to let go of things and trust other people to help me with anything. You have heard the old saying, "If you want things done right, you need to do it yourself," right? Well, it's like a motto for me. I know it drives Anthony crazy. He doesn't tell me that, but I feel it in my bones. I do trust him, but sometimes, letting go of something and letting him handle it can cause me so much stress. Again, the oxygen tank needs to be brought out of storage.

So after writing down number one, what's my action to dealing with this root cause? Well, I write down--I DON'T HAVE CONTROL. Literally that big and in a loud voice yelling it at myself. Seriously! What was I thinking? I can't control the weather on mini session days. I can't control when my kids become ill or when I fall off of a ledge and mess up my ankle. I can't even control my holiday preparation plan. Things happen that will throw it off. For instance, I have been so stressed because my kids carved their pumpkin the day after Halloween. It broke my heart that I had somehow fallen down on my job as a mother. Yesterday, I realized that I needed to let it go and we went and bought a Mickey Mouse set to dress up our other pumpkin on our front porch. (And yes, it was over half off since Halloween was over.)

So if I don't have control, who does? Well, that my friends, is something I know in my head but I don't often internalize and take to heart. GOD. Plain and simple, He has my back and knows how all of this will turn out. All He asks me to do is--"Trust in the Lord and do what is good; dwell in the land and live securely. Take delight in the Lord, and He will give you your heart's desires. Commit your way to the Lord; Trust in Him, and He will act, making your righteousness shine like the dawn, justice like noonday. Be silent before the Lord and wait expectantly for Him..." (Psalm 37) But doing those things means intentionally letting go of my thinking that I actually control things and handing over my stress. And let me tell you, for some strange reason I am like Gollum when it comes to letting go. (My Precioussssssss........)

Second thing I write down--refusing any kind of me time. This was hard for me to realize. A few weeks ago, some friends invited me out to dinner. I told both of them I couldn't make it because I was working that evening and I wouldn't have time to clean up and I would probably be tired. I stressed about saying no. I stressed about saying yes. Finally, Anthony told me I was going and I ended up having a great time. It gave me some down time to destress and think about things other than those that weighed heavy on my mind.

When I go to the store, I typically don't go alone. When I go to the bathroom, most likely there are other people in my stall. When I eat, there is someone at my elbow. No matter what I do and when I do it, I am constantly reminded that it's not about me. So when I do think about doing something for me, I feel guilty about it.

What's my action to dealing with this? I will not let stress, tiredness, time crunches, neediness, etc, get in the way of me taking care of myself or taking time off. Doing something to take care of me will help make me a better juggler.

The third thing I wrote down was seeing my circumstances as huge instead of my God as huge. A lot of times, all I can see is the negative. Every single time I put my children in a car that is not driven by me, I envision every single bad thing that could happen. My mind goes crazy. I don't focus on how grateful I am that He provided someone to help me get my kids where they need to go. I don't think about how He protects them every day from unseen dangers and attacks. I focus on the negative. My God is bigger than all my problems--even the ones that come with big stress. In fact, He is bigger than the biggest stress.

I am going to admit it, sometimes I allow my problems to make my God look small. He is bigger than anything I could ever face! Yeah, I may disappoint someone or not do something right. I may miss a deadline or forget to carve a pumpkin. But those mistakes are small in comparison to making the mistake to not trust God for everything. I also started thinking about how I worry so much about disappointing others! Man, if I worried about disappointing God half as much, maybe I wouldn't have time to worry about the other side of that!

So what's my action for this one? Stay up on my Bible time. It's a great reminder that, "My God is big, so strong and so mighty there's nothing my God cannot do!" That means I have to get up and focus on it. That's easier said than done when you work some late nights or have a kid who can't sleep during the night. Yet, I find that it's worth it. On those days I get up and start my day with Him, I tend to do better with the stress.

So what are some of your root causes of stress? Share them with us! I bet there is an action you can take to combat it!

That was the night before Christmas

In the past, I was always one of those people who was not in favor of Christmas songs and decorations coming before Thanksgiving, Most people fit into one of the two camps on that. But when I married my wife, it would have been hard to not absorb some of the year-round Christmas spirit. She loves everything about the Christmas time of year, from the music, to the movies, to the gifts, to the family time, to the focus on Christ.

I grew up in a family where Christ was undoubtedly preeminent, but the Christmas celebration was not a big focus. I would get irritated when people would start singing Christmas songs or do Christmas shopping before Thanksgiving. I was Charlie Brown, thinking Christmas was too commercialized. Well, it is, as we all know. But I've changed.

This afternoon after lunch I asked the boys to clean the living room. Of course that set off all kinds of weeping and wallowing in pity. And I was going to put Pandora on the TV, which they thoroughly do not enjoy. I asked TJ what he wanted, and he wanted Christmas music. So I set it to the Toby Mac Holiday channel. I loved singing along.

I've come to realize that for a Christian, a follower of Christ, Christmas is all year long. Joy fills my heart when I sing those songs, the songs that remind us that God almighty came in the flesh to save us, you and me. The most unlikely of circumstances changed everything for humanity.

During the cleaning time, a song came on that I think beautifully tells the story. The night before Christmas, there was no hope. Then Hope arrived.

Empty manger,
Perfect stranger,
About to be born.
Into darkness, sadness,
Desperate madness, creation so torn.
We were so lost on earth,
No peace, no worth.
No way to escape.
In fear, no faith, no hope,
No grace, and no light
But that was the night before Christmas.
Warm hay, cold sweat, a mother, not yet.
Praying godspeed the dawn.
She looks to her man, holding her hand.
They wonder how long.
And the shepherds,
Wise men come to find them,
And bow to a king.
One star above shining on love,
So bright it lit up the night before Christmas. 

And the world didn't know mercy was meek and so mild.
And the world didn't know that truth was as pure as a child.
The night before Christmas.
The night before Christmas. 

And the world didn't know,
Redemption was sweet and so strong.
And the world didn't know salvation was writing a song.
The night before christmas.
The night before christmas.
The night before christmas.
Empty manger, perfect stranger, about to be born.

So, celebrate Christmas anytime and all the time. Take joy in the arrival of Jesus all year long. Don't forget to have a thankful heart at Thanksgiving, and always. But, Jesus, he made the difference, and that should on the forefront of our thoughts. If you don't know Him, I wish you would. 

I Am Not Enough

It’s another week gone by here in the Cox household and I have made the usual amount of mistakes and goof-ups. I sit here and recount every overreaction, every pile of unwashed laundry, every naggy comment--if it’s negative, I have dredged it back up. Not to mention I had some extra worries added to my pile of stress over the last couple of weeks. Looking in the mirror, I see the saggy eyelids and dark circles and say to myself, “You are not enough.”

You are probably wondering why it took me so long to come to that conclusion. I mean, how many times do you have to read this blog or watch our live chats to know that I am definitely not enough. Well, part of it was, for a few years now, I have been reading blog posts and articles that claimed that even in my imperfections, I was enough. It was encouraging! Reading about moms who had the same problems, yet their kids were turning out great and life was still moving for them. Their kids were not irreversibly screwed up yet and their husbands were still happy to be in the same house with them. I am pretty sure I have even blogged somewhere on here saying, it’s okay, no matter how you feel, you are enough.

Well, I have changed my mind. I am not enough.

The epiphany occurred about two weeks ago. I got some pretty crappy news and my well-laid out plans took a massive hit. I was depressed, anxious, and to be quite honest, pretty angry. I have been working extremely hard, and right in the midst of the busy season, I get smacked with even more stress. I kept looking at the situation and realized, no matter how I come at this, I am not enough. I can’t move fast enough (thanks crappy old body that can’t properly heal from an ankle sprain), I can’t make enough money, I can’t be around enough, I can’t do enough, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…….I am just not enough.

It’s pretty frustrating to be a wife, mom, business owner, homemaker, etc who is not enough. People judge you by the house you keep, the behavior of your kids, by the happiness of your husband--shoot, even by the meals you cook. People judge and judge and judge. I am going to be totally honest with you. If you are judging me right now by the state of my house or my cooking, you will be very much disappointed. I don’t do either very well.

It’s stressful. I could feel the ropes I was tightly hanging on to starting to fray and snap. I started to get that chest tightening fear that I get when the load starts to get too heavy to bear. My prayers start with, “Lord, I am not sure I can deal with much more…..” I am just not enough.

Here is the good news. I don’t have to be enough. In fact, I am not built to be enough. Sin has destroyed our ability to be enough. Romans 3:23 is a great reminder! “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” Ya’ll, I don’t just fall short, I free fall from it. It almost looks like I am running in the opposite direction from it some days! I don’t typically do it on purpose, but my faith isn’t always what it should be.

Here’s the even better news! Guess who is enough? Yep. It’s Jesus Christ. He came to this world to be what we need in order to be enough. He stands in the gap for us. Romans 5:8 says, “But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Even while we’re not enough, He still loved us enough to send his only son to make us enough. I don’t know if you are reading this as a parent, but have you thought about that? Do you love people enough to give up your only child (or any of your children for that matter) for them? I know I would be horrible at that.

Here’s what we need to think about. If we were enough, would we recognize our need for a Savior? If we felt like we had it all together and were just cruising through life, would we take the time to get to know the One who created us? I truly doubt that would happen. It’s in the moments of not being enough that we let Him step in and be the bridge that takes us to the other side. He’s the puzzle piece we need in order to be complete. No matter how hard we try, no matter how hard we work, we can never be enough without Jesus. We need Him to make us completely whole.

So now, on these days when I know I am not enough, it’s okay. This feeling is my reminder that I can be with His help. I just have to let Him make me whole. No, that is not easy. Letting go of the control I think I have is tough. But I want to be enough…..I ache after and strive for it. That innate desire we feel is more a desire for Him--the need to be whole. Without Him, we just aren’t. So the next time you feel like you aren’t enough, relax and let him do the rest.

When it just never stops

This is a post about solidarity. This is a message to stick with it. This is a note of encouragement, I guess. Or more it's just a post to say we know where you are because we've been there too. 

We're there right now. Life is good. But life with children can be exasperating and tiring. When you have a sick toddler, and the sickness is causing that toddler to not sleep, days are long and nights are short. The nights are short because sleep escapes you.

Our little one has a cough. I think it's never going to go away. I've prayed for healing. I've asked for it to end. But it doesn't. It won't. So I'm tired. Jen's tired. We're all tired. 

The other night, I knew Jen would have a busy few days coming up and needed rest. I told her I would get up with Jase when he coughs and tries to help. So I did. I'm not sure how much I helped. Actually I think what I did was slightly counterproductive. Apparently yelling at a toddler to "just stop coughing" isn't very effective.

The latest fun a few minutes ago was me getting Jase chocolate milk and Jase screaming because he didn't want the heart straw. We ran out of plastic straws. All we had for the kids Moe's cup was a paper straw with hearts on it. That wasn't acceptable. TJ and Reilly were about to take a shower and were yelling at each other about who was going to clean the hair out of the tub or who was going to get in first (Yes, I'm a hairy guy with a lot of hair. I leave hair in the tub, not on purpose.).

We've been to the doctor, and I'm hopeful it's getting better. It will. But, for now, it's rough. So for those of you who have been there, just understand where I'm coming from and know you're not alone. No lesson here. Just a shout out to all those parents who can relate. We'll make it!

Why I don't blog

Sort of a strange title for a blog post. But I haven't posted in a while, so I needed to post. Jen and I have a problem when it comes to doing anything...we want to do it perfectly. Many of you can relate. If you're going to do something, anything, and take up any amount of time doing it, you want it to be good. Not just okay, but really good. 

So when I think about making a blog post, I want it to be worthwhile and valuable and something that will draw attention and provide encouragement or help to others. But, you know what, those ideas are often difficult for me to generate. It's true, and that's the main reason there a huge gaps in between my blogs.

If I have an idea for a blog, most likely it would be a boring one to the Happiness and Havoc community. If I were to do a live blog about what's on my mind, most of you wouldn't be interested in learning about  a new phone I saw that is only $200 and has a 5,000 mAh battery. That doesn't interest you. Or I could write again about our car search. Yeah, it's still on my mind because the issue has not been settled yet, but you don't want to hear about that.

There's another reason I don't blog. I don't think what I have to say will be very interesting. I said this to Jen, and I believe it. My writing or my participation in video blogs can be boring! I'm not searching for encouragement here. Really. I am simply telling you what goes on in my mind when I think through these things. Jen is the fun and entertaining one. I'm the boring, nerdy, monotone one who was never and never will be the funny one in my family. I've come to terms with that. But it's why I don't write much.

So I don't want to put out content just for the sake of adding another post. I want it to be meaningful and interesting and worthwhile and entertaining to the reader. That's why I don't blog much.

I haven't given this one much thought. Jen hasn't read it. But I'm going to post it. And next I might post about that phone I mentioned with the big battery. If you don't want to read it, I'm gonna try to be okay with that.

Confessions from the Gynecologist’s Office

I am like every other woman in the world—busy. To say I had put off my “lady doctor” appointment is an understatement. My next appointment was scheduled for three years ago. Of course, I put it off because, not only am I a busy mother of three children, business owner, homeschool teacher, and crazy person, it’s not my favorite experience in the world. I am going to be honest right here folks. I absolutely hate having my finger pricked. I like to think I have a very high tolerance for pain, but that right there drives me crazy. It’s like someone purposefully giving you a paper cut. Anyway, let’s just say I was due for a visit. After much harassment from my mother and husband I made the call.

I hate talking on the phone. It’s also one of my least favorite things to do. It’s not up there with having my finger pricked, but definitely in the top 25. The nurse answers and I explain what I need to do. You can almost hear the lack of shock in her voice when she says, “So, you haven’t been back in three years?” Let’s just say, I wasn’t known around the office as the most cooperative or calm pregnant person. I explain about my busy life and how I had always planned to, but never got around to it. I can feel her eyes through the phone. She asks me who I would like to see, and I say the name of the woman who I have seen since I was 19. A wonderful midwife who has talked me through the beginnings of becoming a woman, three pregnancies, one miscarriage, and countless other life milestones. “Ummmmmm……” is what I hear on the other end of the line. “I am sorry ma'am, but due to your age, you are no longer able to do your yearly visits with a midwife.”

Here is my first confession. I wanted to choke her. And I know this receptionist. We laugh and chat every time I begrudgingly fill out the paperwork and complain about peeing in the cup. I wanted to scream out, “I AM NOT OLD. And even if you believe that fact based on a number you see on my file, it’s not true.” I just sat there for a second while I internalized never seeing the woman who had talked me through so many huge events and decisions in my life. She was a calming voice, and at times, the voice of reason when I wasn’t so reasonable. It was like a kick to the gut. When I was finally able to respond, she gave me some options of female doctors I could see. (Real mom moment here—I don’t like male gynecologists. Let’s just say I had one during a pregnancy that tried to pull my esophagus out of my lady parts while checking my baby. Ever since then, I just decided that I would stick with the women.) I chose a name from the list of TWO (yeah, you heard that right—only two) women she offered. We made the appointment and I kind of deflated when I hung up the phone.

Poor Anthony took the brunt of my anger as I blamed him for making me call in the first place. I wasn’t seriously angry at him, but he took it like a champ. It’s probably the first time since I learned that I was no longer eligible to be a Disney princess at Disney World that someone told me I was too old.

Here’s confession two—I wanted to “accidentally” forget my appointment. The thought crossed my mind. Surely my midwife would make a house call right? She loved me more than any other patient. I am sure of it. As I watched Anthony rearrange his whole schedule to make my office visit possible, I realized the selfishness in this thought. He really did everything he could to make my visit as stress free on his end as he could.

Now, to make this visit even more awesome, about a week before, I took a dive off of a high ledge in Gainesville during a photo shoot. Okay, that’s dramatic. My weak right ankle (don’t you DARE think old) decided to be a drama queen and gave out. I was only on my second shoot of the morning so I don’t know why it was such a big deal. So not only was I going to this most hated visit, I was going as a gimp. I would look like the old person she had insisted I was over the phone. Yay. Not to mention the pain. Here they were going to prick my finger while my ankle was the size of a small cantaloupe. Greeatttt……

I hobbled into the office trying to make it without the crutches I had left in the car. I was determined that if I was going in gimpy, I was going to be on my own two feet. I walked in the office, signed the sign in sheet and chatted with the same receptionist. (She’s so nice ya’ll! She asked me about my business, how I was, etc. She was genuinely interested in what I had been up to the last three years.) I sat down looking at all the new moms with their hubbies excitedly talking about what they expected at this visit.

Confession three makes me seem so petty but here it is—I was jealous. In my mind, they were able to see a midwife and I wasn’t. In fact, they were probably going to see MY midwife. (At this point, I was probably delusional from the foot pain. I am praying that’s what it was.) I know most of you thought I would say I was so jealous because they were having a baby and starting that awesome journey. No! I am very happy with where I am currently! I seriously was jealous of the fact that my amazing midwife would be the one babying, I mean, examining them.

I was called back by my favorite nurse in the world. Poor woman has seen me in all kinds of situations and still had to see me at the baseball field like a normal person. I don’t know how she does it with a straight face. As I take the walk of death toward the finger prick I knew was inevitable, she says, “Jump up here and let me weigh you.” Ummmmm…….I looked down at the huge boot on my foot which I knew was probably keeping me upright at the moment. “Do you deduct the weight of the boot?”

Confession four—I was embarrassed about being weighed. I don’t know why. But the thought of her looking at my weight (the one person who knows what I actually weighed during every pregnancy) with the added boot weight was just horrific in my mind. She looked at me and said in jest, “Do you know how much it weighs?” I swallowed my pride and climbed up. As I watched the scale slide further over I just cringed. This just kept getting better and better.

It was then that she showed me to a room. WAIT!! She didn’t prick my finger! I don’t know if she forgot or if it’s not practice anymore, but there was no way I was bringing it up and I almost skipped to the room behind her. Okay, it was more of a hobble, but it was a peppy hobble.

She handed me the standard paper couture gown and as I rocked it, I sat on the table trying to figure out how my boot was going to fit in a stirrup. Then I started to look around. I saw the familiar posters of pregnant mothers showing the various stages. I saw pamphlets on different types of cancer and treatments. And then it hit me.

Confession five is the hardest of all. I was a horrible, horrible person. Here I was, sitting on this table waiting on a regular check-up, with regular every day problems. For the most part, I had been healthy for the three years I had so conveniently skipped my check-ups. So many women walked into that room, looked at those same posters, wore the paper gown and had much bigger problems than weight, a busted ankle or a pricked finger. They were wondering if their baby would have a heartbeat. They were trying to decide how to tell their family about a diagnosis that might change their lives forever. They were crying, feeling hurt, alone, and angry.

I felt terribly ungrateful. As I sat there on that table, I realized just how blessed I am. Sometimes, as humans, our lives get so complicated. We get overwhelmed and frustrated. Each one of us has moments in the valley where life just doesn’t seem to get any better. At this point, I was pretty low in the valley as I sat there on the table drowning in my “problems.” It took putting myself in someone else’s shoes to realize that the things I was allowing to eat at me weren’t as big as they seemed. I have been that person sitting in that room praying over and over, “Let them see something, let there be a heartbeat.” It’s ten million times worse than a bum ankle.

It also reminded me that I am called to see past my own life and circumstances, and comfort those around me. It was a God thing that the very next Sunday School lesson we sat through the following Sunday was about reaching out and comforting others. It’s more than just offering to pray or sending them a card, but actually being present in the lives of those who are hurting. It was on that table that I decided that I would be as present as possible when I knew of someone going through a struggle. Instead of offering to bring them food, actually doing it without asking. I would not only send a card, but make a follow-up call or visit. Instead of offering to keep their kids, come over and drag all their kiddos out to our car and to the park.

Some of our friends will never ask for our help. Even if they really, really need it, they will try to keep that need hidden because they don’t want to come across as weak. I am that person. Social media has become another place where women especially feel the need to keep up appearances. Most of you know, I try to keep it as real as possible on that end. But when I get in over my head, when I am really struggling, those are the times I am absent from social media. If I can’t post reality, I usually just shy away from it entirely. If you see a friend missing from social media, reach out. There is probably a reason.

In a world of me, me, me, it’s time we make a change. I believe our country is at a crossroads. One of the ways for us to get back on the right path is to think about others more than ourselves. We need to show love, even when we don’t feel so amazing or loved ourselves. Seeing beyond our own circumstances and realizing that we can make a difference in the lives of others is one of God’s gifts to us. We can be the change. And when we start moving beyond our own circumstances, other people around us will follow. So stop sitting on the table, get up and make a difference!

Why did we get married?

Yes, that's a real question that I asked my wife. We were out on a "date night" recently when I said it. It was sort of a rhetorical question. I wasn't mad at the time. We weren't arguing. I wasn't yelling in Outback Steakhouse when I said it, like we were in the middle of a screaming fight and I screamed, "Why did we even get married???" It was a simple question I was posing to hopefully spur some thought. 

I was lying in bed a few weeks ago next to my wife. I was looking at my cell phone (It's an Android phone if anyone is interested. I went to the dark side a while back, mainly due to the price. Jen thinks it's a piece of crap. It kind of is, but it was only $49. And then I saw Ashley the other day, one of Jen's and my former players/students, and she couldn't believe I didn't have an iPhone anymore.) I looked at Jen and she was either looking at her iPhone or reading a book. She does both in bed, so I can't remember this time. 

At the moment I felt very disconnected from her. It wasn't like we weren't getting along or things were going bad. It just seemed as if we really had not been on the same page for a little while. So when we went to dinner one night a few days later, I popped the question. "Why did we get married?" She wasn't really sure what I meant, so I had to explain myself.

I know there are stages in life. Especially when you have kids involved, there are going to be periods, stages, cycles in life, whatever you want to call them, when you just do not feel close or connected to your spouse. Kids have a tendency to dominate our lives, as we've discussed before in blogs and videos. But even if you don't have kids, other things can potentially get in between you and your spouse. It might be TV, work, phones, friends, whatever.

So I asked the question because I wanted us to remember what it was that caused us to get married. In fact, Jen has also recently said she felt like we were not in sync, or that we were distant. It is so easy to get focused on so many other things that we forget to remember to connect with each other. I never want us to get to a point where the children, who obviously mean so much to us, take up so much attention and drive the activity in our lives that we can't be just Jen and Ant sometimes.

Part of this stream of thought stemmed from the road trip we took. It caused me to reminisce about the times when we would go on little trips together. The last time we had been in Philadelphia prior to this summer, it was just Jen and me. The Westminster brats had gathered up a ton of Wendy's cups for us when Wendy's was doing a promotion to give a way free AirTran flights. I don't remember how many cups it took, but they collected enough cups out of trash cans and dumpsters and from strangers to get us two free round-trip tickets to Philadelphia. We went and had such a blast. It also turns out that Jen was pregnant with TJ at the time, even though we didn't know it. 

We had season passes to Six Flags for two years. We went on a camping trip to Charleston, in the middle of summer, in a tent, and we had a campfire and also enjoyed a time share presentation for $75 worth of free meals and attractions. All of it my idea. We chaperoned high school field trips to Boston and Chicago. We flew to L.A. to visit my brother and sister-in-law, and visited the Grand Canyon and Las Vegas. We went to Chattanooga and Savannah. We went camping a bunch of other times. I don't know what else we did, but it was a lot of fun. 

I got a little side tracked just now thinking about all the trips we took. But what I really want to make sure is that we don't forget that we had so much fun, just the two of us. We loved each other's company and were goofy and spontaneous. It's not that we don't enjoy each other's company now, but it tends to be different. I have to be careful now not to talk all about the budget or money. She has to be careful not to always talk about plans for the kids. 

So when I popped the question, I just wanted her to think about it. Why did we get married? Let's don't lose sight that we were once just the two of us. We have added so many blessings to the picture that enrich our lives daily. However, without us, there is no them. Without our love, there is no future here. Let's remember it, and invest in it, and make an effort to be the "one couple" I like to joke about. Now and always. 

Jen, if you're reading...I love you, and you're the funnest person I know.