Then there were three...

December 12th our family grew to four as we adopted a new pup we officially named Timmy Duncan Donuts Casillas. We were excited and hoping that Duncan would provide Miss Fancy (our older lab) with some companionship.

In mid-Oct, Miss Fancy was diagnosed with lymphoma and given a few months to survive. It took several weeks of decision making and testing to confirm her diagnosis. We had decided to do a biopsy to confirm. We were of course shocked and stunned when we received the news. We were hoping she just had an infection. 

Quickly, as fur parents, we started reading everything we could on lymphoma. We set up an appointment to visit with our vet and determine our options. From the get-go, we knew that we would not pursue any treatment that would reduce her quality of life or would put her through unnecessary pain. 

Fancy, about 12 years of age, was up there in doggie years. She'd spent the last 10 years with my husband and she had lived a good life. She was my husband's faithful companion and he loved her with his whole heart. 

Fancy first came into my life as I started dating her dad. I knew it the moment we started dating that he would do anything for her. I'll be honest. My first thoughts were "hmmm she's an unusual shape" and "she's a big dog!" I wasn't sure how she was going to respond to me but she was gracious. She side-eyed me for a while but she was kind to me.

As my relationship with Ricardo became more serious, she was there with us. She'd worry when Ricardo and I would get upset at one another. She rarely barked but if I tickled Ricardo to the point that he yelled out "stop". She'd bark...if I told her to sit down while I was tickling Ricardo and if Ricardo yelled simultaneously "Fancy help me!", she'd get this confused look like "uh guys who do I listen to?" She almost didn't know who to be loyal too. Eventually her alliances aligned with me but we think it's because I'm the loudest one in the house. So she naturally assumed I was in charge. That or she knew I was a softy and couldn't resist her big brown "a snack for a fattie" eyes!

She really grew on me and stole my heart. We thought about including her in our ceremony when we wed but logistics proved to challenging. So she stayed home and when we returned, she faithfully greeted us with a wagging tail.

When we decided to make the move to or new home, she travelled up with me. She spent those first few hours in the house alone with me. Keeping me company as each delivery was made. The first night in our new home was without furniture as it would be delivered the following day. We could hear her exploring, the click-clack of her paws on the floor as she ran around not quite she what to do. Ricardo called her into our bedroom and she settled in to sleep.

Often she'd look at me or my husband and I knew. She wanted to join us on the couch, join her humans. So we'd pull out a blanket and call her up. She'd sit and we'd pet her and after a while, she'd get down and make herself comfortable on the floor. 

She wanted to be with us and near us. She loved people and no matter where we took her, people fell in love with her. 

She was gentle and sweet. She loved being rubbed and petted. She'd roll over on her back and put her paws up to her face to try and get our attention. She'd lay like that until we came up to her and rubbed her belly.

After receiving her diagnosis, we spent more time taking her for rides. In fact, most of November, after we got out of work, we were taking her for short rides. Taking her with us to run errands or to go get an ice cream. I'd come home from work and lay on the floor with her. I'd pet her and talk to her. I knew no matter how bad my day was that she was going to greet me. In fact, on days when Ricardo was home before I was, she'd hear me before he would and she'd come downstairs to greet me! When I was home before Ricardo and he'd come home, she'd get so excited. Her bootie and tail shaking and a waggin'! Her dad was home!

It was in the last week or so that I began to sense she was in trouble and that she might not make it through the holidays. Our vet thought the prednisone would slow the cancer enough to get her through the holidays. I'm not sure if our friends and family knew what we knew. Her condition was serious and life threatening. We made attempts to tell them but after her surgery and vet visits we'd get "how is she doing?can they give her medicine? Surgery? She's doing better?" I think they were hoping as Ricardo was that she'd be ok and that it was something that could be treated. For me, it was different. I'm usually the optimistic but I'm also the realist. My philosophy is no matter how bad it is, avoiding is not going to make it go away. So deal and confront it and do what you can but don't let it make you bitter. Learn from it and become better. 

To some degree, Fancy was doing better but she had lymphoma. There is no cure for it and all the reading in the world wasn't going to prepare us to lose her to cancer.

But in the blink of an eye, it happened. We went on prednisone for less than a week when we noticed her belly was distended. She was having seizure-like episodes and they were starting to occur more frequently. We even had a late night visit to the ER. She endured, I think because she loved us so much and wanted her humans to be ok.

But Monday, something happened. 

She went out to our porch and refused to come in. Both my husband and I were unable to get her to coax her to come back in. She laid there looking at us, tired. 

I went to work and text my husband and quickly, he assessed that it was time.

Time to let her go.

My husband hadnt been willing up until that point. I didn't push him but I didn't sugar-coat her situation either. He needed to come his own conclusion about letting her go. Either way, I was going to support him and whatever decision he came to. From the start, we had decided together we were not going to allow her to suffer for our sakes. 

I quickly made arrangements at work, moving afternoon appointments and so did my husband. Home we went to spend those last few hours with her. The photo below is her waiting for my husband so that we could go for a ride. 

That's how I got her off the patio, by offering to take her for a ride. So that's what we did. 

We took her for a long ride and got her cheeseburgers. We took her to the park and walked her around. We spent time with her and took photos of and with her. We petted her and rubbed her and we loved on her. 

When we got to the vet's office, I couldn't contain the emotion that was welling. Our vet's office was amazing. So delicate to our state and reason for being there. They were gentle in processing our paperwork, offering the privacy of an exam room and bringing us a box of tissue. They gave us the time we needed and they loved on our Fancy too. And when we were ready, they walked us through those next final moments. When she was gone, they checked her vitals and verified what we already knew. 

I was astonished at how suddenly and quietly she left us. In one breath, she was gone so peaceful. We cried and we mourn. We took our time and when it was time to go, our vet staff let us leave without interruption. They'd call us when Fancy's ashes were back. 

And so we left, holding hands with tears in our eyes. We knew we had done the right thing. We could see in her eyes that the pain was becoming more and more unbearable and she was tired.

We had vowed that when it was time, we would let her go in and with love with dignity and peace. We fulfilled that vow. We left nothing to regret. 

Though our hearts are broken for now, we take comfort that she's no longer in pain. She was set free and whether you believe in doggie heaven or not. We know she's in a better place; either in the sky with a great big doggie bone, ears flapping in the wind or at peace, resting easy.

We have been extremely blessed with the outpouring of love not just directed towards us but to our Fancy. For that we are most grateful: more than you could know. We covet your prayers and so very much appreciate your support.

There will be a day when saying her name will not be accompanied by tears. We will be able to look back and joyfully give thanks for her time with us. She was an amazing sweet dog, who had her own quirks and personality but who loved us unconditionally. 

I'll miss her Napolean Dynamite sighs and her Scobbie Doo desire for food but we will carry her and our memories with her with us in our hearts. 

Rest in peace Miss Fancy, you're may now be at your forever home but a part of our family, you'll always be!

While we are three...

Our weekend was hectic....but it was very much about living with no regrets. We spent time with friends and family continuing on with life but taking some moments to celebrate it. 

We're spending as much time with Ms Fancy as possible. 

Today, she we threw her a celebration party with doggie cake and treats! We had a great time and pretty sure Ms Fancy enjoyed it. She's been making the rounds visiting friends and family and we took photos with her. The one above is going to be with us for the remainder of our lives. 

I can't write too much about what we're feeling without getting that lump in the back of my throat. 

Fancy's surgery is scheduled for Wed and while we're anxious to get it over with, we also are dreading it. It could bring some much needed relief for Fancy but could also leave us even more broken-hearted. We know she is not comfortable and Wed we should know if it's the lymphoma or bladder stones.

Tough weeks...

We've had a lot of things pulling at us in terms of jobs, family, etc but I think we're going to quietly focus on Ms Fancy. 

We know there are bigger things happening around us. We're trying to be cognizant of those things and to be present. 

We've been so incredibly blessed by amazing friendships and family. Our time with them this weekend very clearly emphasized that point. Our lives have been impacted by Fancy and her undeniable loving essence. Our lives are better for having her in them! 

I can't help but think of the circle of life from Lion King. One of our good friends brought her new baby and I was so overjoyed to hold her! She's precious and very much a reminder that life ever evolves. My nephews called me as well and we broke the news of Fancy's illness to them. My oldest said well is the surgery going to make her better and I said for some time but she's very sick. My youngest says could she die? I said yes, she will likely die sometime soon... My oldest "oh that's very serious..." My youngest nephew, "but Mimi she'll go to doggie heaven and be happy!" Me: "yes, she will" and I smiled at their young and innocent perspective. 

I'm considering picking them up and spending some time with them. I'd like them to see Ms Fancy and I know they love her so.

Life continues...

Our youngest nieces turn 3 this month. Oh so struggles they had arriving into this world...but tonight! We witnessed some very 3 year old behavior. I told my husband "uhhhh lets rethink that baby business!" But in fairness my sister-in-law has two at once! They're adorable and they are talking a ton. One of them reminded me that we are buying her a Daniel the Tiger Cake and chocolate peas! I told my husband, we should appoint our nieces and nephews as long as we can...

Next Wed, we will be at a birthday party celebrating these girls! 

Thinking about their journey makes me extremely grateful. Their story could've ended so differently but here they are. Wednesday we will celebrate! 

Of course next Thursday is Thanksgiving. We have so much to be thankful for...these holidays will be bittersweet. But I am grateful for my partner in this life. Or first year of marriage has been incredible. It has not been all sunshine and roses but we've grown and we've grown together. And even in the midst of the rain and storms I find incredible comfort in knowing I've shared and will continue to share this journey with this man that I love so.

We will take some time to quietly celebrate our paper anniversary at the start of the new year.

...I'm gonna lose you

I'd been meaning to post for a while. I haven't really found an opportunity to be still with my thoughts to write. 

We moved in May and then the summer always bring a bevy of birthday celebrations. I blinked and it was Labor Day. There's been a flurry of activity between birthdays, family, and events. Toss in work and some major changes and suddenly you find its Nov and you're now 2 weeks away from Thanksgiving. 

The last few weeks have found us focused on our beloved dog, Ms Fancy. 

Oh Ms dear sweet Fancy...

She had a procedure done last week and we'd been waiting on results. Monday we got the phone call we had hoped to never receive. 

We already knew Fancy has bladder stones and that surgery would be required to remove them. The outstanding question for us was "would she be a suitable candidate?" 

Monday told us she likely would not be because she was formally diagnosed with lymphoma. 

My husband and I, along with our inner analysts, immediately began researching what that diagnosis meant. We quickly came to a grim conclusion and that is that we don't have much time with her.

Understandably, our hearts were and are broken. They will be for some time. We know it and we're at peace with what's to come. 

Most definitely doesn't make it any less painful. The last few days have been spent researching options, making plans, and rethinking the next few months of our lives. 

We also quickly set an appointment with our vet to discuss our options and confirm what we've already read. 

Today was that appointment. 

Fancy is a sweet girl. She loves people, loves going for rides, and loves food! There's nothing like see her little ears flapping in the wind and she rides in the back seat of our car with her head out the window. That's when she's happiest.

We could run her through oncology therapy but we'd only be positing the inevitable. This cancer will eventually become drug resistant. There's no cure. So this process became about understanding the disease and its process.

Our first set of question focused on managing her pain. We've had a tough several weeks. I won't go into the details but she's had a number of accidents. She stresses easily and she also knows when her humans are upset. 

Today's vet visit was tough. 

We asked all the hard questions we knew we had to ask. We'd already decided we would not put her through an oncology protocol. 

Surprisingly, our vet did recommend surgery for her bladder stones. Because we want her passing to be as painless as possible, we opted to go through with the surgery. The stones make her very uncomfortable. If not treated will eventually lead to complete blockage and then kidney failure. By the time we know her kidney's have stopped functioning, she will be in immense pain and her kidney failure will lead to death.

The things we don't know include how far the cancer has spread and what stage she is in. We'll know in part after her bladder stone surgery.

Life expectancy of lymphoma without any course of treatment is between 4 weeks to 3 months from the date of diagnosis. We're closing in on three weeks by the time she'll have her surgery. She'll have a two week healing period and then go on a steroid protocol to try and give her time to get through the holidays. 

It's a long shot but we feel like we owe it to her to minimize her pain. Ricardo and I decided that the moment she no longer wants o go for rides or is willing to accept a snack will be the time to let her go. I've heard you'll know when it's the right time and I pray that is true.

I've posted Megan Trainor's "Like I'm Gonna Lose You". While it was meant to describe a relationship between two humans...it fits our sentiments now.

We're going to love her like we're gonna lose her because we know that someday soon we will. 

My parents have always said you should celebrate life with those you love when they're alive. Why wait until they're dead? It's too late then...and so that's how I've lived life and approached love. It can be gone in a blink of an eye. 

We've decided to celebrate her now and not to wait until she's gone. I'm going to start a new blog for her. I've always found writing to be therapeutic but I also want to document our memories of her.

Ricardo and I will celebrate a year of marriage this coming Jan...a year ago, I could've never have imagined we'd find ourselves here. Whether she's with us or gone, this anniversary will be bittersweet.

There's a lot more I'd like to say but I'll pace myself. For now, trying to cherish each moment. Ricardo and I are working to establish a new routine as Fancy requires increased care. 

It's a new season...one I wish we didn't have to walk thru but if we have to, I'm grateful to have my partner, friend, and love to walk thru it with. 

This is the stuff of life...physical death was meant to be painful. We recognize that and we're bent of loving Fancy with no regrets. This season will soon pass and we know the day will come when we will be able to think about her without tears filling our eyes. We'll be able to laugh and remember all the joy she brought to our lives and we'll be grateful for this time with her. 

We know there are lessons to be learned and there's a grieving process that is both difficult and natural. As tough as it is, we've decided to embrace. And when the time comes, we let her go with dignity and grace. We'll hold her paw through that process and do whatever is within our power to let her know just how much she is loved. 

beyond measure...

Tonight, I'm joyfully preparing for my best friend's baby shower. She sent me a text last night to let me know some mutual friends had delivered their newborn, a beautiful baby girl! My feed as of recent has been full of announcements of deliveries or of expectant deliveries. I can't tell you how joyful that makes me for our friends and family members.

I don't have children. I've never been one of those women who lived my life to be a mom. I don't see anything wrong with that desire and I'm not opposed to it...it just was never very strong on my radar. I chalk it up to how I was created, how God designed me. I've certainly never been one to not celebrate the arrival of a new little one. The way they smell, how tiny they are, I marvel at creation, marvel at God's infinite wisdom in designing us...but there has always been a bit of hesitancy and relief as I return that little one to his or her mommy/daddy. I've never completely understood it...the hesitancy...I think until now.

Tonight - in the midst of a diaper cake, clipart, corsages, centerpieces; I took a moment to read a post. I stopped to read this particularly profound post because a friend of mine's name was attached to it.

She was a college mate of mine in grad school and we were project partners at one point. We became friends on facebook and like so many of you, I've followed her life transition post-grad school. I rejoiced for her when she finished pharmacy school because through my own sister, I knew what a challenge that was. When she announced she was expecting a little one, I was once again thrilled for her because it was her first-born. So of course I said a prayer for her when she posted her and her husband were awaiting the arrival of her baby boy, David, from the hospital!

Having recently married, Ricardo and I have had several of conversations about children...even before we married. Is it the right time? Are we ready?

There have a been plenty of selfish questions as well: Do we want to change our lifestyle? Are we prepared for sleepless nights? What about the expense? What about traveling? Can we financially afford to have a baby right now? What bout daycare...in the midst of a move to a new city, a new job?


I have several friends who have for reasons known or unknown delivered babies who never drew their first breaths on earth or drew their last, moments or days after their delivery.

We often want to say that we can't imagine what they are going through. There's a fallacy in that because I think we could. We may never truly understand or know the pain unless we've experienced it ourselves.

I'm an aunt to two little ones. I love those boy's more than I could ever imagine possible. They taught/continue to teach me about unconditional love. I could never compare it to the love their mother has for them...it's different, but it's deep and because I don't have children of my own - it's the only experience I can draw from. My heart hurts when they're sad...hurts when they're hurt...and in their short 10 and 7 years on this earth, they've taught me more about adult responsibility than I ever thought possible.

If you've had children or if you haven't - maybe you have nieces or nephews, maybe both: if you've waited for little ones to arrive and experienced the deep profound love that grows as your little one does, then you don't want to imagine the kind of pain that comes in losing a child...but I think you could certainly understand the depth of it.

My friend's son, David Maddux Moonjian, was called from our life to join God in Heaven on September 15, 2015. They go on to say:

In faith, we believe God has a greater plan for our baby boy in His design of our lives. Although we struggle as parents in accepting God’s plan we are comforted in knowing David will only know the love we shared for him as expecting parents and the love of family and friends awaiting his arrival in all our lives.

Just one week ago...seven days...I believe in the significance of numbers. Seven being representative of completion and perfection.

Creation Day 7 (Genesis 2:1-3)
God rests. This in no way indicates He was weary from His creative efforts, but denotes that the creation is complete. Further, God is establishing a pattern of one day in seven to rest. The keeping of this day will eventually be a distinguishing trait of the God’s chosen people (Exodus 20:8-11).

After reading my friends post, I've decided to stop asking those questions. My husband and I had already decided that if we should get pregnant then so be it and if not then the Lord has other plans for us. I believe that the Lord will give to us (child/ren) when He deems we're ready and whether we have what we need or not, He'll supply. He always has...and if He blesses us with a baby, I promise to look at our child with very different eyes...to be thankful, grateful, and present...


To my friends who have said 'good-night' to their little ones: we think of you and pray for you often!

I pray the Lord continues to be your comfort and give to you what you need in those moments you need it most!

For Eleanor, David M, and so many more:

There seem to be so many friends of mine and Brian that have either recently had babies, are soon to have babies, or will probably be expecting babies in the future. This is my plea to you:

There will be times your child will scream and cry any time you try to put him or her down. Or they'll cry even as they're in your arms and you've done everything you can possibly think of to get them to stop. There will be sleepless nights, multiple diaper changes in a matter of minutes, spit up in your hair, pee on your shirt, and poop in your hands, and again - so much screaming from the baby, and probably from you as well. Every time that happens, every time you feel frustrated and want to run away, please remember my story:

My sweet, sweet Eleanor Josephine was born sleeping September 11th. I went to bed the night of the 10th, and she was kicking away. I woke up, and she wasn't. I couldn't find the heartbeat on the home doppler. I knew. I just knew. I didn't want to know...I wanted to be mistaken, but I knew.

We went to Labor and Delivery immediately, praying the whole way there. They tried the doppler - nothing. Before they put the ultrasound wand on me, they ran the heartbeat monitor over my belly - nothing. My heart was sinking fast, and I remember thinking "This can't be happening...this is just a dream...this can't be happening...They'll find something on the ultrasound...just *something*." But these were feeble hopes, because again, I knew. I could tell they knew, too, but no one said anything until Brian (who was parking the car) got there. I could tell they were delaying, "Oh, the ultrasound machine sometimes takes a while to boot up." "I think there's something wrong with the wand...." Finally, Brian was there, they did the ultrasound, and there was silence as they all exchanged nervous glances. Finally one of them matter-of-factly said, "Hi Natalie, I'm Doctor ______ (I don't remember her name, but you don't want to know what I call her in my head). I'm sorry...there's nothing there." I keep having flashbacks to that moment. It's a crippling, all-consuming feeling of utter suffocation, and a memory that will haunt me for the rest of my life. In that moment, I felt trapped as if the ceiling was literally crashing down on top of me. I couldn't breathe, lashed out, I screamed, I threw things, I threw up...and then a piece of me died with her. I was helpless to change anything. My body was supposed to keep her safe, and instead it killed her. I was 40w6d.

A couple of hours later, I was induced. They offered me an epidural, but I couldn't do it. I needed to own it. I needed the pain, the agony, and misery to mirror what I felt in my heart. It was the hardest thing I've ever done. Ever. Dealing with the unbearable contractions, the ring of fire, the tearing...knowing that all of it was for nothing. I was delivering a lifeless child. There would be no happiness at the end of it to help me forget the pain. The pain, unlike my baby girl, would live on forever.

Then finally, after those hellish hours of labor, she was placed on my chest - gorgeous, but lifeless. There was no reason to expect that first little cry from her. Instead, it was me who sobbed. I begged her through my tears to wake up: "Please wake up, baby girl...please, wake up. Why won't you cry for mommy? Please, please, please....just wake up."

She was beautiful. She was perfect in every way. I love her so much, and the devastation I felt, and still feel, cannot even begin to be described. We got to spend 6 hours with her. We took hundreds of photos. A photographer from "Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep" came by and took even more. We bathed her, we brushed her hair, we held her, kissed her, and told her how much we loved her. And I apologized over and over again for failing her. Oh, how I failed my beautiful baby girl.

They offered to allow us to say the night, but I couldn't stay there any longer. I couldn't bear the thought of leaving my daughter, either, but I knew I was just prolonging the inevitable. As time went on, she was looking less and less like the flawless child that I brought into this world. I couldn't keep watching her deteriorate in my arms. I knew she couldn't feel any pain, but I was feeling it for her, and I had reached my breaking point. I wanted to die with her.

Around 11:30pm, we said our final goodbyes. As I stood over her and spent those last few minutes with her, blood was cascading down my legs and onto the floor. I didn't care - my womb was crying. Everything about me was crying. Watching them wheel her away broke me. My life ended then and there. They wheeled me out of the hospital and I screamed the entire way.

Monday was the funeral, and we had to go through the whole thing again. Seeing her one last time (my legs gave out from under me at first sight), singing to her, touching her cold, lifeless face, telling her how much we loved her, and me, apologizing over and over again for not being able to protect her. It was a small, intimate ceremony - 9 people total. Immediate family only. We all took turns blessing her. And once again, we said our goodbyes.

Everyone gave my husband and I one last moment with her, just the three of us. And when we were done, he and I walked arm in arm down the aisle, as our family held the doors open for us as the end of the room. I flashed back to our wedding day as we walked down the aisle as husband and wife and the doors were held open for us. The memory was such a cruel juxtaposition to the current reality. Our wedding march was joyous. This was a nightmare, this was morbid, this was wrong. Everything about it was wrong. I can still see that tiny box draped in a white cloth that held her tiny body. I had to leave her there in that cold, empty room; all alone all over again. It's a nightmare that just won't end.

I say all that to say this: my womb, my heart, and my arms are empty. There are going to be so many of you who have babies who are going to cry every time you try to put him or her down. Or they'll cry for no reason even if you're holding them and you've fed them, burped them, changed them...everything. And inevitably you're going to cry too, because you will feel so helpless and so frustrated and so clueless, and you'll want to scream, "Why won't you stop crying?!" You're going to be exhausted and angry and fed up and all you're going to want in this world is just a little time to yourself so you can sleep or shower or or eat whatever. People will tell you to just let them cry it out, that you'll otherwise just be spoiling them, as if you can spoil a child with too much love. Feel free to slap those people for me.

But please just remember, while you're awake at 3am because you have a baby in your arms keeping you up that late, I'm up at 3am because I don't. And I would give anything in this world to have a baby spitting up on me, being colicky for all hours of the day and night, screaming, not letting me put her down, cracking my nipples from breastfeeding, keeping me up all night. Instead, I have a stitched nether region, painfully engorged breasts no baby will suckle from, a flabby stomach, an empty womb, and blood that will continue to pour out of me for who knows how many more weeks. As if her death and birth wasn't traumatic enough, I still have to live with the physical effects all these many days later.

All I ask of you is when you have your dark moments with your baby - when you're at your wits' end and feel like you can't go on anymore when you're only getting an hour or two of sleep a night - instead of begging your child to go to sleep and wallowing in your frustration and exhaustion, say a prayer of gratitude for your child, as difficult as it may be in that moment. And if you would, say a prayer for me and all the mothers whose children were taken from them too soon. Say a prayer for my sweet, sweet Eleanor who never got to know life outside my womb.

Please. Do it for Eleanor. And do it for her mommy who loves her and misses her beyond measure.

At heart I'm a musician, immediately several songs came to mind.  I've posted them below.

Going back

Taking it back with an ol'skool jam.....ok so two songs...





It has been a long while since I've posted one of these: early march to be exact. I had to look to see when I last posted. I had promised myself I would get back to writing but life occurred. One thing after another....Ricardo and I got an offer we could not refused so we found ourselves in a new city at the start of summer.

With the move came packing and all the activities of relocation. Everything seemed to lay itself out for us making the transition somewhat seamless. I mean a move to another city is never completely seamless. We are not far from where we were living but it's still a bit of an adjustment to a new city with a new temperament. We are still adjusting but seem to be settling in though we miss our beloved Austin. (Never thought I'd ever, ever say that!)

I started a new role and Ricardo transferred in his current role to a new work location. So in essence he's still doing the same thing just in another office in a different city.

Things have definitely changed but overall I think it was good for us, especially as newlyweds. We're both away from both our families which can present challenges and we're not sure how we're going to work out holiday's just yet. We'll cross that bridge when we get there....

so that was the start of our summer: a new city, a new job...

Summer has been about exploration. Learning this new city we call home but also in creating our home as a newly married couple. It is different...and i'd love to tell you that marriage has been roses and candy but let's be honest. It's probably the hardest thing either one of us will ever do besides becoming parents....and no that is not on the horizon anytime soon.

Ricardo and I are both realist. I'm the optimist, he's the logical thinker. Somehow, someway it works for us. There are times when our stubbornness and strong-willed ways work against each other but we work through whatever the difference is. What I love most about Ricardo is that he's not crazy emotional, irrational...he's like a rock. I mean that in the best way possible. His approach is very much, we're adults we can talk about this, it doesn't have to get crazy...and so that's how it goes. Now there are times when I can get crazy and times when yes he get's a bit crazy but we're pretty good about balancing each other out and usually one of us is grounded and rational and the other falls in line after some discussion. But let's be really, real...I'm usually the one that's unreasonable...simply because as I like to call it; I'm passionate...passionate to a fault. Then comes along Ricardo with his reasonable rationale and sort of bursts my bubble. Not always but its a pretty skewed distribution. He's like a string on a kite. Keeps me from being carried away by the wind because sometimes I get lost or distracted from the larger scheme of things.

that is why we work...it's how I know God loves me because he sent me this person that I need so very much in my life. He has his moments of craziness and we spent alot of our time laughing. Laughing with each other or at each other or at ourselves....because we do silly things sometimes.

He's got a tough skin too and I think to be married to me you'd have to have tough skin. I've always said I'm not for the faint of heart.

He's helped me come a very long way in the terms of tolerance, grace, and yes mercy...he's much more merciful than I am. but in all the ways that he balances me, I also balance him.

I think marriage is an evolution...there's a constant ebb and flow...very similar to life. I think of where I was 10 years ago and I never could imagine we'd be blessed in the ways that we have. Never thought there'd be a "we" much less a Ricardo.

But here we are....establishing our life together. it's been good, very good.

the summer brought many birthdays including our own and now we march on towards the holidays and our first anniversary.

exciting times...exciting times...

I do

Where has the time? One minute we're planning a wedding and in the throes of madness, the next two months have passed! I have mixed feelings about posting photos on a public forum. So the one I've posted is of us during our ceremony. It was crazy and chaotic but at the end of the night, we were married and celebrating with our nearest and dearest family and friends. 

The road leading up to our wedding day was sheer votility. If already told myself to "brace myself" for the inevitable wrong going...and it seemed everything was on target until my hair and makeup went awol. You can imagine my disposition...luckily, our amazing planners gave us some recommendations and by Friday appointments were set. But then my amazing fiancé forgot to check on our licensing requirements, hence failing to note the 72 hour requirement! 

That's when I lost my marbles, it seemed to be too much at once and the weather was just horrible. So bad that my folks had to leave a day later...and my dream of an outdoor wedding was dashed.

Well long story shorty, thanks to a former band mate Clay Searsy, we had our waiver and a license, family had arrived, and all was well by the rehearsal dinner!

Because of that crazy insanity, I never got to organize the decor the way I wanted and I think I realized Friday night that at the end of the day, it didn't matter. 

My sister surprised me with an amazing evening with my bridesmaids, cousins, and close friends! By the next morning, I was ready to get the show on the road! 

So I go to my hair appointment and almost walked out looking like Deb from Napoleon Dynamite...I made her change it and it was all too reminiscent of a hairdo I had for Kristy Caudillo's wedding and was very 50's on top! All I gotta say is that my cousin Amy works miracles! My new makeup artist was amazing and our photographer was stunning! The day went by so quickly that one minute I'm shooting a bridal portrait and the next I'm being whisked away in a golf cart (driven by my sister) and ready to walk down the isle. 

What remains in my mind is the ceremony and the cake! And of course my new hubby! We were both relieved when it was done! It was such an amazing day and we were so honored by our guests presence. We had a blast and while there will always be things we'd do differently the one thing I would not do differently is marrying my best friend and partner in life! 

Life is hard and challenging but I'm grateful for this man as we walk together in life. more than anything, as we said our  i do's, I was completely certain that the Lord brought him into my life! 

It's hard to explain but like my brother once said about my folks, Ricardo is my peanut butter to my jam! 

Today we've been married two months! Two months! It's been good and challenging at moments but we're both in this for the long-haul...we're both human and we both err from time to time but I'm ever grateful for our marriage counseling and the reminder that commitment, along with passion and intimacy are how love works in a marriage!