tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11436328318555336082024-02-20T11:24:13.200-08:00Momma BehrJust another day in Behr-adiseSarah Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04960773414012072638noreply@blogger.comBlogger206125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1143632831855533608.post-54083512085907889302013-05-09T15:50:00.000-07:002013-05-09T16:12:38.861-07:00Moms are an intimidating audienceToday was Mother's Day at Madeleine's school which was absolutely fantastic. I've never had a Mother's Day before where my kid's actually realized it was a day (or 15 minutes) about ME! Let's just see how Sunday goes.<br />
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They performed a few songs and gave us some crafts that they had made. My darling daughter was absolutely terrified during the performance part but gosh darnit, if she didn't look adorable. Stage fright can apparently manifest in almost-four year olds. Who knew?<br />
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This weekend, my mom and I are going dutch treat on a dinner to celebrate us. I am very much looking forward to it.<br />
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Oh, and apparently I am STILL very allergic to incense. I tried to go to mass this morning and had to leave after less than a minute because I was coughing and dry heaving. Catholic fail. I'm hoping to talk to an allergist about it and ask my priest if they can invest in allergy free incense or at least have one incense free mass on holidays. This not getting time with Jesus thing is a real bummer.<br />
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My favorite is when people are like, "Just cover your mouth and nose with a hanky and you'll be fine." Yes, I've always found that the solution to not being able to breathe is to cover my mouth and nose. I mean, everyone is well meaning but that one cracks me up. Hey, apparently it does work for some people though. I, however, cannot sit in the back of the church, bring water, bring an inhaler, because they don't work. I went to a church that had used incense earlier that afternoon once and I was still feeling very, very ill.<br />
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But I don't want to complain. I absolutely love my parish and my priest is very kind and understanding. Not to mention, solidly Catholic, which is harder to find around these parts then one would think.<br />
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And finally, last night, Kyle and I had our first Creighton appointment since we were engaged and I learned SO MUCH! NFP IS AWESOME!<br />
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Okay... finally, finally... this is a quote from Juliette. I thought it was too cute not to share.<br />
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"Madeleine loves me because she is my big sister and I love her too!" <br />
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AWWWWWWWWW!<br />
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That's all for now! God bless!<br />
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Sarah Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04960773414012072638noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1143632831855533608.post-73135253297806151122013-05-07T10:26:00.000-07:002013-05-07T10:26:55.250-07:00Madeleine's favorite field tripHey so remember last week when I bought myself some wine to celebrate making it through my husband's three week business trip to Maine?<br />
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Well I brought the girls with me on that trip. Obviously. Can't leave such little ones home alone.<br />
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That was their first ever outing to a liquor/package store and apparently it was very exciting because now when we drive past Brady's Liquors, Madeleine begins to shout, "LOOK MOMMY! IT'S THE WINE STORE! IT'S OPEN! YOU SHOULD BUY SOME WINE!"<br />
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Now I am not a drinker at all. I might have a glass of wine or a cocktail twice a month. Maybe. So this is a bit embarrassing to me. She screams it with the excitement usually only held for the park or her school.<br />
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So, you know, this just means I can't invite new people for joy rides around town, lest they believe I am some sort of lush.<br />
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Parenting. It's never boring. Sarah Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04960773414012072638noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1143632831855533608.post-12247979624027369582013-05-06T13:39:00.000-07:002013-05-06T13:39:11.744-07:00Juliette is in detox<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's been a busy few days. Due to my husband's super weird schedule, we are heading into our weekend, so I am looking forward to some quality family time now that he is finally back from Maine.<br />
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We finally, finally got around to taking away Juliette's pacifier yesterday and we also began potty training over the weekend. She has been doing a lot better than I expected but sometimes she looks like a junky trying to get a fix. I, on the other hand, am glad to be rid of the stupid things. I love hearing her talk and those things get in the way! And as for the potty training... well... its going slowly but well. She is quite proud of herself and excited to get her Pinkie Pie when she is all done with baby diapers.<br />
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She is growing up so fast! She will be two and a half this month and Madeleine will be four in June. It seems crazy that they are that OLD!<br />
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Madeleine has baby fever as well. She has been asking Jesus and Mary to put a baby in my belly nearly every single day. No prompting. It's all her. I'm not sure how long Jesus and Mary can hold out when her prayers are so beautiful and pure. She is the sweetest girl in the world.<br />
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I really do adore them.<br />
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Madeleine also seems to believe that our priest wants to be updated on her outfit after mass every Sunday. She has us stop by and say goodbye to the statue of Our Lady on our way out and then we wait in line to talk to our priest. When it is our turn, she twirls in her dress, points our her shoes, and updates him on the new details of her life. I think she is going to be a Saint Therese style intercessor for vocations.<br />
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Juliette is still pretty much my goofy little girl. Aggressively affections and in such adoration of her big sister. She is also a budding fashionista. At he ripe age of two, she is quite particular in what she wears and what her shoes look like. She won't let mommy put just any dress on her. She prefers Hello Kitty, Minnie Mouse, or other Disney characters and if those are not available, it needs to at least be brightly colored and well accessorized.<br />
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These are some pictures from over the weekend. Enjoy! I love em! Nothing cuter than little girls in church clothes. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh you know, just tying mommy's shoes on the gate.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chilling on the front stairs in the sunlight. I love this dress.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tried getting a picture of both of them. Juliette did not oblige.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Madeleine is pointing to their ball rolling down the street. I dropped the phone and ran after it.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Girls just wanna have fun!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Such beauties!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkDjMbAGsovvS72h2r5S-nv-UUPGcopOQxFkAgtM3Ow8n4Sbzh5mjDoCBhNH9sj6H9-hXb8SVJtZXJSSu8dJ3SCh2DWJd6UzgFbmrdGgKAkdHoqT0JkSc1BstEsayw-GT6B4PhdWm7ioA/s1600/IMG_5529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkDjMbAGsovvS72h2r5S-nv-UUPGcopOQxFkAgtM3Ow8n4Sbzh5mjDoCBhNH9sj6H9-hXb8SVJtZXJSSu8dJ3SCh2DWJd6UzgFbmrdGgKAkdHoqT0JkSc1BstEsayw-GT6B4PhdWm7ioA/s320/IMG_5529.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Obviously Juliette did something absolutely ridiculous right before this was taken. They so remind me of myself and Lauren.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Juliette, you are SO SILLY!"</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Laughing together</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love this shot of Juliette</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And this one of Madeleine- my little flower!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXeBVclqwyQc5QfIdkkIxAaFTgZweu8ew_yXtkPvA-HoKskGlJXJBdiT_Zn_TEA4hnbqEsGnthtptALxtKoR-0GI223iqgbBwJUQrbVSEOZFjxhXnjotIfztEgzynzSFhG-tDmYbKNeo8/s1600/IMG_5536.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXeBVclqwyQc5QfIdkkIxAaFTgZweu8ew_yXtkPvA-HoKskGlJXJBdiT_Zn_TEA4hnbqEsGnthtptALxtKoR-0GI223iqgbBwJUQrbVSEOZFjxhXnjotIfztEgzynzSFhG-tDmYbKNeo8/s320/IMG_5536.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blowing mommy a kiss!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvZRMnq5DJbdT9AMdd2LcDIpRk2QJ3-AByscDrDg5C-qmN10Q1Z-F1AS-aNJf2S02FCHp2Sy2UYgvYpK4Nh32SuHExFBfxKkjF8_veB8l118QyHRV5lj2dgbX8VuKLW5K9WLhiiWTyQUU/s1600/IMG_5537.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvZRMnq5DJbdT9AMdd2LcDIpRk2QJ3-AByscDrDg5C-qmN10Q1Z-F1AS-aNJf2S02FCHp2Sy2UYgvYpK4Nh32SuHExFBfxKkjF8_veB8l118QyHRV5lj2dgbX8VuKLW5K9WLhiiWTyQUU/s320/IMG_5537.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paparazzi shot</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSFbw27fstpd17mEQvG-WPnJykK4qpMfSJeb0MLii1NLO65nIFOsnUBOCbf8kZatG9RBHpc5Qw1xTfdAJvYmJ1mq1j-9zsjdM80BsvEkHU0BV51dG3kJ66Lq1n6QOnqQC-ndr4RKUawdQ/s1600/IMG_5538.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSFbw27fstpd17mEQvG-WPnJykK4qpMfSJeb0MLii1NLO65nIFOsnUBOCbf8kZatG9RBHpc5Qw1xTfdAJvYmJ1mq1j-9zsjdM80BsvEkHU0BV51dG3kJ66Lq1n6QOnqQC-ndr4RKUawdQ/s320/IMG_5538.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sleepy girl... I would die for lashes like those.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLx2HNQaw0_d1bOf33Rcfm6E04m2qI71f13TidDY4DWRxkiDi9pr1osKWeXo6u5Dl4K8sgjf8LssYi0ZVRSPSEfjM6u_szNnv1PpK5i-FQnWCASxsRVJjZMGq3GLwT8Mg1Cyls3Nt-UPU/s1600/IMG_5540.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLx2HNQaw0_d1bOf33Rcfm6E04m2qI71f13TidDY4DWRxkiDi9pr1osKWeXo6u5Dl4K8sgjf8LssYi0ZVRSPSEfjM6u_szNnv1PpK5i-FQnWCASxsRVJjZMGq3GLwT8Mg1Cyls3Nt-UPU/s320/IMG_5540.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In their house.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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I take a lot of pictures. Guilty. They only stay this little for so long and I want to make as many memories as possible.</div>
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<br />Sarah Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04960773414012072638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1143632831855533608.post-2236608010314297982013-05-02T14:33:00.001-07:002013-05-04T20:39:21.302-07:00While you were sleepingDude I wish with a title like that this entry was about some government conspiracy that unfolded while the masses were unaware. And I would be all like, "Blah, blah, blah, I am such a smarty pants. Blah, blah, blah, you are now enlightened." But nah, it's about what the kids did during my nap time. I love naps. Naps are the best. Government, smovernment- where's my pillow.<br />
<br />
So Kyle took the kiddos to the beach park so I could have a little quiet. That's right people. There is such a thing as a beach park. It's a park at a beach and discovering it was one of the most exciting things about moving to Rhode Island. We can pack some snack, picnic on the sand, watch the waves, wet our feet, and then take the kids to play on the monkey bars.<br />
<br />
I love living in Rhode Island. Kyle took lots of pictures (the first one is of me napping while Juliette plays with my iPhone, just so the pictures have a linear feel) and I hope you enjoy them. Just don't mind the kids hair. I do brush it occasionally.<br />
<br />
<br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTQz43YEfQzfnc_4Q4z0-O5EvfiZcGL6W_CoT36JSW8geoeE57MnRZeLjJ9xdAaFF0wBOrhOJTKjgmEtW-yFGCERrpJ8VzbzG3iERc_heCJEW5V7P_jxo7MjgXh65bIrVHBLuymeplG2s/s640/blogger-image-1692442785.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTQz43YEfQzfnc_4Q4z0-O5EvfiZcGL6W_CoT36JSW8geoeE57MnRZeLjJ9xdAaFF0wBOrhOJTKjgmEtW-yFGCERrpJ8VzbzG3iERc_heCJEW5V7P_jxo7MjgXh65bIrVHBLuymeplG2s/s640/blogger-image-1692442785.jpg" /></a></div> <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkPi0PHpffRXd1fghdMetfpbPigwlhHc_jMmTVB7U0z_caywubblboZo3XuRIZdW8LgDQnOYcUWW0QZpICW9j538GzkBWQp9XoSw84S92jH2-Qqh8xjqVzGb6JeAScXH70o0x6QxcEpic/s640/blogger-image--1616891344.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkPi0PHpffRXd1fghdMetfpbPigwlhHc_jMmTVB7U0z_caywubblboZo3XuRIZdW8LgDQnOYcUWW0QZpICW9j538GzkBWQp9XoSw84S92jH2-Qqh8xjqVzGb6JeAScXH70o0x6QxcEpic/s640/blogger-image--1616891344.jpg" /></a></div> <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-dbp_hKn5kf7X_e9I2HevWI6FESQqaSl_DNDDP3jEya37W6ZSpmqNN1GErB2GQO2UTlWSoYFVWGWCcrBozxdAWLYHTYZoVhwYtlhhY7zAPZIFH2cGNK5gPVEHglpJmAGEC3LeU_AIFbw/s640/blogger-image--457735985.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-dbp_hKn5kf7X_e9I2HevWI6FESQqaSl_DNDDP3jEya37W6ZSpmqNN1GErB2GQO2UTlWSoYFVWGWCcrBozxdAWLYHTYZoVhwYtlhhY7zAPZIFH2cGNK5gPVEHglpJmAGEC3LeU_AIFbw/s640/blogger-image--457735985.jpg" /></a></div> <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBnPQpRACQv5QJQ9q9Fy9wRr94aAaZT-oXJqRQUqfE1pAwCFiDKvtmzPmZ79CWLkEToLk7Xp0fAR83JdTn7AhehW85ceh9kQmY5FynzlrYoR_Y-8Sk3pSuUABJpClwXjzzJpp-I-FCYmU/s640/blogger-image--1504266348.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBnPQpRACQv5QJQ9q9Fy9wRr94aAaZT-oXJqRQUqfE1pAwCFiDKvtmzPmZ79CWLkEToLk7Xp0fAR83JdTn7AhehW85ceh9kQmY5FynzlrYoR_Y-8Sk3pSuUABJpClwXjzzJpp-I-FCYmU/s640/blogger-image--1504266348.jpg" /></a></div> <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl-IcyHxN9WlyO1pFkZZ8rNLdY54r3zYlDJoZ-Cw3ZieElyk-z-ptRrv-bNvREcB4bHgJySHtvCGxDwXfD_yLdn-FM9ixuVK6Kijywqn05rFTrmeD9O_RSQi0zY88WDCYJ9mTw1akueq4/s640/blogger-image--981683513.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl-IcyHxN9WlyO1pFkZZ8rNLdY54r3zYlDJoZ-Cw3ZieElyk-z-ptRrv-bNvREcB4bHgJySHtvCGxDwXfD_yLdn-FM9ixuVK6Kijywqn05rFTrmeD9O_RSQi0zY88WDCYJ9mTw1akueq4/s640/blogger-image--981683513.jpg" /></a></div> <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZkMx3xX2EIEpot-hAQNy3h5DFwXcBPZifGe895EEpXMo4rKMnkWGiDN2_2GzEHb1MuhRaAYrpKD9BOWq2KgbAhkoH3lOJHc7zOrpsMLmeIyN_pD_Cd0UV6UrH75m31pcNx5CVxCL3CUg/s640/blogger-image--2087717199.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZkMx3xX2EIEpot-hAQNy3h5DFwXcBPZifGe895EEpXMo4rKMnkWGiDN2_2GzEHb1MuhRaAYrpKD9BOWq2KgbAhkoH3lOJHc7zOrpsMLmeIyN_pD_Cd0UV6UrH75m31pcNx5CVxCL3CUg/s640/blogger-image--2087717199.jpg" /></a></div> <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF87tWBl1yN94Am_Ai4Vs6DZvnoM5yPkYF0SQMGNpbvd2EjZsArYG19rY8sg43eObsFCbHFiCqhEiwxmStUwXPOLe6OVKbwiwCeIrKVSrl_UuD_xsQi_9fh0rpz4QgfIwNQbZu_l7uMF4/s640/blogger-image--937310878.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF87tWBl1yN94Am_Ai4Vs6DZvnoM5yPkYF0SQMGNpbvd2EjZsArYG19rY8sg43eObsFCbHFiCqhEiwxmStUwXPOLe6OVKbwiwCeIrKVSrl_UuD_xsQi_9fh0rpz4QgfIwNQbZu_l7uMF4/s640/blogger-image--937310878.jpg" /></a></div> <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFvNaELA-JgGqLpcWgua2-LVoyKFBgvlMadfiYiwnXCxsKIHoMNnC05SBvo-9mEbHVAnwPbsCUVX0OdpDTVjnLIqcIGeQiOnueCE6EVDTPth5OOSNXw07uU9MnRlXQw757-S77yXY8dEk/s640/blogger-image--257359630.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFvNaELA-JgGqLpcWgua2-LVoyKFBgvlMadfiYiwnXCxsKIHoMNnC05SBvo-9mEbHVAnwPbsCUVX0OdpDTVjnLIqcIGeQiOnueCE6EVDTPth5OOSNXw07uU9MnRlXQw757-S77yXY8dEk/s640/blogger-image--257359630.jpg" /></a></div> <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy8UOAjqvbwcq-FIsHIH7KZGZ7LUgiRgoPOq7Vn99iOprJY-QQKfwfzCFgIgT5fYJtwgnCpYMSsXBgrKdgmiLaMcnnayIFC8gsVu6M11MmQPj81bdu9FUicEVXHWvUc8NiPZAvd9vgKdU/s640/blogger-image--1742569786.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy8UOAjqvbwcq-FIsHIH7KZGZ7LUgiRgoPOq7Vn99iOprJY-QQKfwfzCFgIgT5fYJtwgnCpYMSsXBgrKdgmiLaMcnnayIFC8gsVu6M11MmQPj81bdu9FUicEVXHWvUc8NiPZAvd9vgKdU/s640/blogger-image--1742569786.jpg" /></a></div> <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8oEzTLJ_rNYHQGzfWaKgBuqot4CbVbZzwRNqmH_I3tf7trj4D3fNAGKNUNl2apyUMWfHGOkbtfsF41BUcwI5vFyJ_-tf2Y-M3Z0SuatstEBVydHwFqPqkrJiCDDqOGyaapzBdnv8Zm3U/s640/blogger-image-1650925609.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8oEzTLJ_rNYHQGzfWaKgBuqot4CbVbZzwRNqmH_I3tf7trj4D3fNAGKNUNl2apyUMWfHGOkbtfsF41BUcwI5vFyJ_-tf2Y-M3Z0SuatstEBVydHwFqPqkrJiCDDqOGyaapzBdnv8Zm3U/s640/blogger-image-1650925609.jpg" /></a></div>Sarah Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04960773414012072638noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1143632831855533608.post-47486669221794170662013-05-02T07:05:00.001-07:002013-05-02T07:05:51.453-07:00Letter to a Princess Phone ToddlerDear Princess Phone Toddler,<br />
<br />
I see you over there, playing on the princess phone that your mom got you at Target, pretending to talk to Grandmom. What you don't see is that your mommy is trying to get your attention.<br />
<br />
She is riding a tiny tricycle but you don't look up. You are off in a world of your own imagination, probably telling Grandmom how embarrassing of a daughter she birthed. Your mom looks so impressed with herself but you don't see her. <br />
<br />
You father wants to play catch but you just sit there in your toy house pretending to serve up ice cream made of grass. You don't notice as his face falls when he throws the blue bouncy ball and no one runs after it except for the dog.<br />
<br />
I know this is the only time I have ever seen you, but some deep dissatisfaction in my own life leads me to judge you. <br />
<br />
I don't know about the times you climb on your parents laps and let them read to you for forty-five minutes straight even though you'd rather be climbing the bookshelf of dumping toys in the toilet. I don't know about that hour you spent building the same Lego tower over and over again because it makes daddy so happy. I'm not there so I don't know.<br />
<br />
You spend a lot of time entertaining your parents. Being an adorable toddler, well, everyone wants a piece of you. It is a 24/7 job. All you want is 15 minutes to yourself to talk to Grandmom on the princess phone and not have people picking you up and pinching you and kissing your cheeks. This is why you bring your parents to the park, for the fresh air and socialization opportunities.<br />
<br />
You are a good daughter. You sacrifice a lot for your parents. Your days completely center around them. However, I don't know about that so I am going to assume the worst. Stop ignoring your parents all day ever day. Judgement. <br />
<br />
Love,<br />
The stranger at the park who has been watching you for some reason for a good half hour and clearly either ignoring her own kids or just there to watch people which is kind of creepy if you think about it.Sarah Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04960773414012072638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1143632831855533608.post-22489021666948506682013-04-30T13:24:00.001-07:002013-04-30T13:24:05.758-07:00It's wine o'clock on a TuesdayKyle comes home from his business trip tomorrow! Woooooooohooooo!<br />
<br />
I haven't updated this blog in a while but in December Kyle began working for Southwest Airlines in Providence and we bought a house and moved to Warwick. It's awesome. I love being a homeowner!<br />
<br />
And I love my house. I'm determined to "young house love" the crud out of it. Kyle will tell you, all my "blow money" and free time go to decorating, researching, and planning what I want to do with each room. It keeps my mind off the whole "not being pregnant" thing.<br />
<br />
Which, by the way, is why I wasn't blogging. Project nĂºmero one was getting my head on straight and growing closer to The Lord in the midst of the mind blowing disappointment and heart break that is "secondary infertility".<br />
<br />
But hey, I can drink wine. I don't drink often at all but tonight I decided to stop by the package store on my way home and grab some vino. (For those of you not from New England, package store = liquor store.) And then I composed a tune to pump myself up.<br />
<br />
It's wine o'clock on a Tuesday.<br />
The little ones are in bed.<br />
There's a pile of clothes sitting next to me.<br />
But I think I'll start drinking instead.<br />
<br />
I said, "Hun could you bring me some Chardonnay?"<br />
I know that you prefer beer.<br />
But it's been a long day, and I was just thinking, "Hey.<br />
I would prefer to keep sitting right here."<br />
<br />
I'm really proud of that ditty.<br />
<br />
But seriously, despite the hardships, life is utterly joyful. I have hard days but mostly I am overwhelmingly thankful for the blessings in my life.<br />
<br />
We love living in Rhode Island. The closest beach is walking distance from our house and our yard smells like ocean. Madeleine goes to an amazing Catholic school and our parish and parish priest are UN FREAKING BELIEVABLE. Truly.<br />
<br />
But tonight I will have a (small) toast to me. I made it through the past three weeks, the move, so many health issues. I'm better than ever. God is closer than ever. <br />
<br />
And I'm feeeeeeeeeling gooooooooooooood.<br />
<br />
Sarah Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04960773414012072638noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1143632831855533608.post-66480686642255665412013-04-29T13:55:00.001-07:002013-04-29T14:07:23.857-07:00Beauty changes the world.Let me get right into it. Victoria's Secret did not single handedly destroy culture and turn women into half naked tooth picks. Now, I have issues with Victoria's Secret but it has far more to do with what their models are wearing then what they look like. <br />
<br />
I know many naturally thin women. And when I say "naturally" I mean they eat candy and pasta and don't weigh more then 110 lbs. I know women of all shapes and sizes. Yes, I believe that it's insane that the modeling industry thinks that only women who are a size two and under are beautiful but I don't fault the women who are that size. What I find issue with is HOW LITTLE THEY ARE WEARING. <br />
<br />
And it isn't all Victoria's Secret's fault. The world changed when sex became a commodity rather then a sacred act between a married man and women. Women (and men) became objects to be lusted over rather then people deserving of the whole gift of self given within a holy and loving sacramental marriage.<br />
<br />
Women became commodities when sex no longer became associated with motherhood. Sex got stripped from motherhood with Roe v Wade when the creation of new life went from the purpose of sex to an unwelcome consequence. About a year ago a was reading an episode recap from The Office where some people were commenting that Jim should have cheated on his wife Pam because she hadn't lost her baby weight and that his infidelity would "teach her to let herself go". So now we have a generation or two of women who believe that they have a month, maybe two, to lose their baby weight so their husband will still find them attractive. <br />
<br />
The models do it, sure. But do you know what goes into their weight loss regiment? Lets just say their isn't much time for them to sit and enjoy their sweet, velvety newborns. I see people online getting competitive about how quickly they can fit into their pre pregnancy pants. That should be the least of our concerns as a new mother and yet, we all worry about it. I sure did. And let's be honest, for most of us, when we lose the weight, we don't actually look the same again. To take it even further, I've heard women say that they don't ever want to get pregnant because they don't want to "lose their bodies". How has culture gotten so far out of hand that women fear motherhood because of their looks? As I have said, we all struggle with vanity in our own ways. <br />
<br />
It's not just the curse of mothers either.<br />
<br />
Every year prom dresses get more and more immodest, shorts get shorter, bikinis get smaller. Now there is a line of lingerie for middle schoolers. People wonder when it all went so wrong.<br />
<br />
Women are over sexualized because in today's culture, sexy and beautiful are interchangeable adjectives.<br />
<br />
Sexy is something that reminds you of sex.<br />
<br />
Beauty is something that reminds you of God.<br />
<br />
They are NOT the same thing.<br />
<br />
When you look at the ocean, it is beautiful. When you see a mountain, it is beautiful. The Grand Canyon is beautiful, a sunset is beautiful. And women... We are created to make all of that look like the drawing of a four year old in comparison. There is a reason God created men to be visual creature. Our beauty is supposed to be part of what inspires them to holiness. <br />
<br />
However when we focus so much on being sexy, it creates just the opposite effect. It does not help their souls and it does not help ours.<br />
<br />
With so much focus on the physical, what can we even do to change it?<br />
<br />
I believe that, first of all, as women we take some responsibility. We stop dressing and acting immodestly. We keep our words and actions pure. We pray more and we ask for the intercession of Our Lady to guide us. We don't make excuses. We treat our bodies as temples and try to stay healthy, this means we watch if we are getting too over weight of two under weight as well. Everyone has the place where they are healthy. Don't kill yourself, but try to stay healthy. Your kids and spouse deserve that. However, remember that it is not about a size. It is about health.<br />
<br />
If you think a friend is struggling with an eating disorder, talk to a counselor and get her help. Eating disorders can be life threatening and often there is something much deeper going on then a desire to lose weight.<br />
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Then we need our men to step up too. Our sons and daughters need to see their fathers adoring their wives. Right after she has given birth, tell her she is beautiful. Tell her every day. Tell her in front of your kids. Girls learn how they deserve to be treated from their fathers. Boys learn how to treat women from you as well. Support your wife. Watch the kids so she can get to the gym, have family meals, let her buy something that makes her feel pretty, bring her home flowers. If your wife feels like she disgusts you she is likely to give up. It's hard to feel beautiful when you spend your days wiping other people's butts. Let her know that she still is. <br />
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Pay attention to your daughters as well. There is only a short time when they are in your home. Teach them about what true beauty is. Let the bikini stay at Target. Keep the short dress in Kohl's. Give them freedom but also give them boundaries and talk to them. They are more likely to confide in you if you have a relationship beyond rules. They are also more likely to confide in you if you actually act like a parent instead of trying to be their BFF.<br />
<br />
I think this world change starts at home. I don't expect Victorias Secret to change their ways anytime soon but I am going to teach my daughters what beauty is anyway. I am going to teach them to be selfless, generous, loving, kind, honest, patient, and good. I am going to teach them that God loves them and that they were created in His likeness and image. I am going to teach them that physical beauty is not everything but it is a gift and shouldn't be squandered. I am going to let my husband teach them that they deserve to be treated with love and respect and that they deserve a spouse who will bring them closer to God instead of taking them further away,<br />
<br />
I don't have delusions about perfection. I have hope in the Lord and a deep respect for Beauty. I'm going to start this revolution at home. Beauty can change the world.<br />
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Sarah Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04960773414012072638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1143632831855533608.post-82392660840548633662013-01-11T22:31:00.001-08:002013-01-11T22:31:40.788-08:00"Master to Whom Shall we Go"I suppose that it is a common theme in Scripture and in life that when the going gets tough, when the lesson is too hard, when the suffering is too unbearable, that one might abandon ship. The rich young man walks away sad, Judas betrays Him with a kiss, Peter denies Him three times, and in John 6 Jesus tells His disciples that is is the Bread of Life, that His flesh is true food and His blood is true drink, and that no one comes to the Father except through Him. Scripture tells us that as a result many of his disciples left him and returned to their former way of life.<br />
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Temptations, crisis of faith, hurdles on the path to sainthood mark our path at every step. Sometimes barely noticeable and sometimes as overwhelmingly vast as swimming across an ocean. The past year for me hasn't been the easiest but at every turn I find myself saying to God, "Master to whom shall I go? You have the words of eternal life." <br />
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There are some days when I just sit around and ask God, "Why? Why don't you answer my prayers? Why don't you bring me some relief? Just let me feel Your love and have a moment of understanding about your plan." And in those moments I only feel silence. There is no answer except that I have a cross that I have to carry, even when the load seems unbearable. <br />
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But why carry it? Why not throw it down and turn to things that are against my moral code?<br />
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To whom else would I go? Jesus alone has the words of eternal life.<br />
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With or without loving God, I have a cross I have to carry and sometimes it is a lonely burden. I cry out to God and wait and in those silent moments when I think He isn't speaking, I remember that He is the Bread of Eternal Life and realize that only thing in my life that would truly be unbearable would be to lose my faith. <br />
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Even on the most hurried of Sundays, the days when I spend most of mass in the back pacing with the kids, I receive Life within me. And sure, maybe my prayer is for another child but God is bigger than that. Even with an empty womb I can have a full soul. He is the bread of Eternal Life and He has come to dwell in me.<br />
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And then I remember the Mercy that is my husband, the holy, loving constant in the emotional storm. Or the miracle of my daughters. Even with my issues, God saw fit to give me two beautiful girls to hold. On the days when I wait for blood results, or drive to another doctors appointment, or are told, yet again, that "this time" they know what is wrong with me" just to be let down, I am not alone. When I remember to look for it, I can see that His love surrounds me constantly.<br />
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I'll take my days to be angry, to suffer, to beg and plead with God. I've always been one to wear my heart on my sleeve and I figure I might as well be honest with the All Knowing One. After all, prayer changes us, not Him.<br />
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With or without Him I have my cross but only with Him can I carry it. On my lowest days I can feel Him asking, "Do you also want to leave?" But to leave Him, to abandon my faith, is something I cannot comprehend. There is no other place for me besides with God. The only solution on those days is to pray harder, grow closer, never to walk away. Sometimes it takes forever to try to gather the pieces and utter a prayer, but all I really need is His name. He has the Words of Eternal Life and He will restore mine. <br />
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Sarah Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04960773414012072638noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1143632831855533608.post-84292549182190437762012-09-15T18:30:00.004-07:002012-09-15T18:30:59.659-07:00With her sassy pants onWhen today started off I honestly should have known that it would be one of those days...<br />
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I woke up after having gotten maybe five hours of sleep and was immediately thrown into the impossible task of waking up the sleeping beasts. At night, when they are all sweet and innocent they are my sleeping beauties. Morning... beasts. Just like mommy.<br />
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But we had ballet and Madeleine had to wear clothes and she did NOT want to wake up and she did NOT want to wear clothes and she did NOT want to leave the house. Somehow though the three of us made it out and over the ballet studio. Late. Of course.<br />
<br />
Although she spent the first ten minutes attached to my leg, everything changed when the teacher brought out magic wands for the girls to dance with. Suddenly Madeleine was transformed from shy three year old to graceful princess... at least in her own mind. After that she was front and center, attentive, while her sister looked on, swept up and filled with the same awe I felt the first time I went to the Nutcracker. <br />
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We left after it was all finished, twirling through the hallways and out to the car. And then it all just fell apart. All of us overtired, two thirds of us tired, and one third of us... wearing sassy pants.<br />
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I want to know WHO EXACTLY bought Madeleine her own super special pair of sassy pants recently because hooooooo boy has she been strutting around in them. <br />
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These are two of the conversations we had today:<br />
<br />
Madeleine- <i>Mommy, I want some ice cream.</i><br />
Me- <i>No Madeleine, we are not having ice cream right now</i>.<br />
Madeleine- <i>Well that is a bad choice.</i><br />
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Me- <i>Madeleine, it is time for prayers.</i><br />
Madeleine- <i>First we will do prayers, then I will get medicine.</i><br />
Me- <i>No, you do not need medicine. You are not sick.</i><br />
Madeleine- <i>Those are my rules.</i><br />
<br />
I mean REALLY. I thought kids were supposed to at least hit puberty before they became teenagers.<br />
<br />
But seriously, usually Madeleine is a really sweet kid. Today was a hard day. <br />
<br />
And she was not the only Behr baby to be put in the corner. "Nobody puts baby in the corner!" Think again. My twenty-one month old is well aquainted with it. My favorite story of Juliette today was when Madeleine was quietly constructing a house out of boxes. Juliette came over and Madeleine begged her not to touch it. She pushed it over and then, laughing hysterically, grabbed three out of five boxes Madeleine was using and took off running. Madeleine chased her, crying. Juliette sped up laughing.<br />
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It was one of those days.<br />
<br />
My favorite memory, the one that will make me miss the sleeping beauties tonight, was after their nap when we were all curled up on the couch together. Madeleine on my lap, Juliette under my arm. We were all just staring at each other and talking and laughing and it was warm and sweet and perfect.<br />
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Hopefully tomorrow we will all be a bit more well rested and Madeleine's sassy pants will be folded away in her drawer. <br />
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And hopefully I will be able to figure out a way to post the video of Juliette singing "Elmo's World." Good stuff.Sarah Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04960773414012072638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1143632831855533608.post-88841397327024220772012-09-14T21:08:00.001-07:002012-09-14T21:08:21.152-07:00The Return of Sheek and ScolagI'm not going to lie. I don't think I was really prepared for just how weird kids are. I'd spent a lot of time around children growing up and they do say ridiculous stuff... but still... my kids are odd.<br />
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I love it. I'm odd. I sometimes surprise myself with the things I think and say. Kyle is odd too. When I predicted traits that our kids were going to inherit from their parents I figured, tall with long legs. Maybe a bit nerdy. Definitely conservative and not all that coordinated. I should have added weird to the list. My kids. Just like me. Weird.<br />
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I gave birth to two daughters. They couldn't be any more different. I mean, they don't even look related to begin with but in personality as well. Madeleine is serious, loyal, imaginative, dreamy, sensitive, shy, concerned for others, headstrong, and very loving. Juliette is wild, extremely affectionate, full of energy, gregarious, laughs easily, social, determined, generous, kind of hilarious, curious... and oh boy is she affectionate. The biggest thing they have in common is their love for each other. Madeleine adores her sister, takes care of her... and Juliette things that the sun rises and sets with Madeleine. They are best friends. And they are both weird. <br />
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But we don't get to meet new people all that much and when we do I sometimes back my car into their homes. Bygones. Anywho... Madeleine was in search of new friends.<br />
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Sheek and Scolag first made their "appearance" a couple of weeks ago, right after the surgery when I was staying home a lot. With names like pagan gods and the ability appear only when I am not looking, they became Madeleine's newest friends... much to the dismay of Juliette who couldn't figure out why Madeleine wasn't playing with her all of a sudden.<br />
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They'd been gone for a couple of weeks. Probably because we had been getting out of the house more. But I have been sick for the past couple of days and we have been staying in.<br />
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And today they returned.<br />
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Hopefully though, since tomorrow Madeleine starts ballet, Sheek and Scolag will depart again. They honestly kind of creep me out.<br />
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Kids are just weird little creatures... and I cannot get enough. I wish I was more like them.Sarah Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04960773414012072638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1143632831855533608.post-36962742088222150652012-09-12T19:51:00.000-07:002012-09-12T19:51:03.580-07:00BygonesWell... I'm alive!!!<br />
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I realize that I haven't written since before my surgery so some people may have assumed that I died... or something. Really though laziness, my own mental sanity, and Ally McBeal reruns have taken precedence over blogging lately. Mentally and emotionally I have had a lot to sift through and it's hard to get back into the pattern of something like "blogging" when you've taken a lot of time off.<br />
<br />
The surgery went very well and I healed really quickly. I mean seriously, I was at the park with the kids a week later. Heck the next day I was at Starbucks. Of course, that doesn't say much because not many things could keep me and caffeine apart for more than 24 hours. Bygones.<br />
<br />
Anywho, I'm starting to get back into the grove of life. It's been crazy here. I'm starting "home school" preschool with Madeleine, ballet begins Saturday, cleaning out the basement, giving old clothes to charity when Kyle isn't around to hoard, mom's groups, play groups, my 27th birthday, Kyle's 30th (I call him my Woody Allen), Juliette's second birthday, a wedding in November, a godmother two weeks later, Kyle applying for jobs in other cities before the company is bought, Kyle working tons of overtime, fretting about the election, fretting about fertility, trying to be somewhat domestic and decorate for the seasons and holidays, trying to convince Kyle I need new boots... LIFE. Whew. Exhausted.<br />
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Most of the time it's really good. Kyle has had to work 10-20 hours of overtime a week lately. I've been really missing him. With his company being bought by Southwest this is a very crazy time for him. I do my best to be the supportive wife; keeping the right beer in stock, looking pretty, making food, keeping the kids alive and happy, constantly thanking him for his sheer amazingness, and restarting the blog. It was his request that I get back into it. Despite listening to me talk all day he still wants to hear what I have to say. Especially because apparently my musings are more entertaining to him when written down. I tend to think that is partly because he tends to space out when I'm talking. Bygones.<br />
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The little ones are as adorable as ever. I wish I could copy and paste a lot of my facebook statuses into the blog. They are constantly amazing to me. Madeleine spent a lot of time playing "doctor" when I got back from surgery. She would life up my shirt and examine my incisions and ask me how I was feeling and if I was getting better. She had a hard time with the fact that I wasn't allowed to life her. Finally, one day, I got the go-ahead from my doctor to pick up my children. I immediately went over to her and scooped her up. She glowed, smiling and burying her head into my shoulder. She met my eyes and said, "Your boo-boo is all better? You can pick me up now?" I told her, "Yes." For the next few days she had me carry her everywhere. Even when going from the bathroom to the playroom she wanted me to carry her just because she had missed the feeling of being held by her mommy.<br />
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Juliette, on the other hand, was so excited to see me when I came home from the hospital that she immediately crawled up onto me, wrapped her arms around my next, kissed me, and kneed me in the incision. I didn't care. Nothing was more painful that being away from them.<br />
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The whole summer was hard, not being able to take them to the park or the zoo or museaums without Kyle to help because I was in too much pain. Now it's the little joys. Being able to strap them into the minivan and just go, knowing that I am able to take care of my kids away from the comfort of my home and my couch. <br />
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They are growing up way too fast these days. Preschool age? Almost two? My poor heart can barely comprehend it. There is just so much to do. They have so much they want to share with me and show me and so much they want to do with me. Even when it is just sitting as they perform a dance or play tea party or make up some ridiculous story. I can give them my attention now. I don't have pain constantly there, a distraction and hinderance.<br />
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Now the only thing holding me back are the dreams I haven't been able to realize. I can't move forward without giving them to God. Not giving up on them, just giving them to Someone who knows my heart a lot better than I do. Life doesn't always go the way you want it to go. My life is pretty amazing. If it were up to me I wouldn't have health problems... God is teaching me to suffer well. If it were up to me I'd be pregnant by now... God is teaching me about patience and trust. It doesn't always make sense to me and it doesn't always click... but it's Truth. God knows best. God loves me. God's plan is perfect. And if everyone gets sick of listening to my struggles, He never does.<br />
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I'm going to Carpe Diem for a bit because life is a lot better than it was four short weeks ago. My kids are beautiful and they make me laugh and they will only be this age for so long. And I know being in the moment is exhausting but I have spent too much time worrying about the future. That is far more exhausting to me.Sarah Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04960773414012072638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1143632831855533608.post-55671081131294807592012-08-12T19:09:00.001-07:002012-08-12T19:09:33.588-07:00In God's HandsIt's been a while since I have posted. I have an excuse though. This has been an incredibly difficult month for me in regards to my health. After I last posted about my struggle with infertility, I went to see my amazing Napro doctor up here in Massachusetts and we decided that the best course of action to improve my fertility was to get me into surgery. He put me in touch with another amazing Napro doctor in New Jersey and we scheduled the surgery for mid September.<br />
<br />
After that it all went to heck.<br />
<br />
I won't bore anyone with long stories but after being in and out of the hospital for the past two weeks in terrible, horrible pain... we moved up the surgery to this coming Tuesday.<br />
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It was an especially difficult decision to make because the following Saturday is the wedding of my amazing sister-in-law Lainey and I am heartbroken to not be able to attend. Thankfully though Kyle will still be at his sister's wedding while my parents take over care of me for those couple of days.<br />
<br />
The outlook is very good. The doctors are reasonably certain that I have endometriosis but since I have been able to have two kids already they are in high hopes that after the surgery it will be gone and I will be able to have more. On top of that, all the pain I have been in for these past few months, even the horrible back pain, should mostly go away. So praise God!<br />
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I have an incredible support system. My husband, my parents, my sisters, my in-laws, my friends... everyone seems to be coming out of the woodwork with prayers and love and those who live close to us are bending over backwards to help us out. I feel incredibly blessed. I feel at peace.<br />
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Surgery is a scary thing but I have a lot of faith in my doctors, partly because they are excellent and partly because both of them are also men of God and I know that the Divine Physician is leading and guiding them.<br />
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God is good to me and I can't complain. I am glad to offer up my suffering for others but I'm also really glad that very soon there will be less suffering to offer up.<br />
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And then, of course, I am hoping that there will be some morning sickness to give glory to God for.<br />
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No matter what, it is clear that He is in control. I won't surrender to fear and self pity. I am blessed and I am under Our Lady's mantle of protection.<br />
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Please pray for me on Tuesday, that the surgery goes well and that the doctor can ready my body to carry life again. Thank you all for your love and support.Sarah Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04960773414012072638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1143632831855533608.post-77228537654919782802012-07-19T18:38:00.000-07:002012-07-20T12:35:41.032-07:00And now for something completely different...This is a much more serious post than what I am used to writing about. Usually it's something uplifting about my kids or my husband or my vocation. Honestly, I'm not even sure why I am writing about it. About half of you will think this is too personal to share online, forty percent will not get it and think it's not "that bad", and then ten percent of you will cover me in prayer. That's why I writing. I need those "ten percent" prayers. And also, to be honest, I want to be honest. I think I'm just tired about writing around the thing consuming 75 percent of my thoughts. Writing is also healing for me, conquering my fears by putting them in words. And since many of you have asked if I am pregnant again yet...<br />
<br />
As most of you know, I lost my first baby four years ago in an ectopic pregnancy. That I have shared before. And many of you have commented on my luck with fertility since then. It's true, to lose a tube and achieve two successful pregnancies essentially back to back is a miracle and I thank God for those miracles every day and then some. Through everything I have not lost sight of how blessed I am.<br />
<br />
Still, the ectopic pregnancy has left me with some scars, both physical and emotional, that have been hard to recover from. It has become clear to me at this point that the large family I always dreamed of may not be within my grasp.<br />
<br />
To those of you who know the pain of infertility on a much deeper level than myself, you have my deepest sympathy. So many of you carry a much heavier cross than I and I weep with you. I've been able to have two healthy daughters and I in no way take them for granted or believe that I can compare my situation to the pain of never being able to conceive. All I know is the struggle that I have faced in the past twelve months and will continue to face in the years ahead will constantly remind me to keep you in my prayers.<br />
<br />
To those of you who take your fertility for granted, please remember that nothing is certain. You may complain about avoiding for now and tomorrow look back with regret. Maybe, maybe not. But please remember that there are people who would love to be in your shoes so please offer up your nausea and sleep deprivation for them.<br />
<br />
Infertility if one of those things that people don't want to hear about. Sometimes I wonder if it's because it goes on for so long. In the beginning people just dismiss it and tell you that "everything will be alright" and by the time months and months have passed people are just tired of hearing about it. They think you "talk about it too much" and maybe even judge your faith. You hear "offer it up" and "look on the bright side". Talks of God's will and what else you can accomplish with those nine months it would take you to bear a child. It's not helpful. None of it is. Those of us who struggle generally know that God has a higher purpose and that if we do not understand it in this life, we will finally get it in the next. That doesn't make our heartbreak any less real or our faith any less strong. If anything, those I have witnessed suffer the most tend to be the holiest. Where else do you go when you are lost except to God? I can't pretend to speak for everyone, not even close, but I can speak for myself when I say is that what we need is for someone to say, "Yes. That sucks. I will pray for you." Someone to listen when we call and be with us when we weep.<br />
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I don't particularly think my situation is as serious as most, as evidenced by my two beautiful daughters, but after wanting to be pregnant again for almost a year now (a year doesn't that long until you go through it and then it feels like an eternity) and knowing that it has not happened and that I am only 26, I realize that it may also be a much more bumpy road ahead than I had originally thought.<br />
<br />
And praise God, right? Because in my suffering I can be more united with him and with Our Lady. Still, it hurts. It hurts so badly that sometimes I can barely breathe. And there are some ladies I know of who have it so much harder than I do. For them I have no words. <br />
<br />
If you are uncomfortable with what to say to someone struggling with infertility, I am sure we all know someone, please do not say the following:<br />
<br />
"Well isn't pregnancy so hard?"<br />
"Kids are really expensive anyway."<br />
"It will happen. Just have faith."<br />
"Wow it would be crazy if I got pregnant again before you."<br />
"Maybe you should have more sex."<br />
"At least you are able to be there for the kids you already have instead of dealing with another newborn."<br />
"Look on the bright side..." <br />
"I'm sure nothing is wrong."<br />
"Just go have a drink and enjoy not being pregnant."<br />
"Maybe it's a good thing because...."<br />
"If you stop worrying it will just happen."<br />
"At least you already have some kids." <br />
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And yes, those are all things that people, with probably the best of intentions, have said to me. And to someone who isn't hurting, most of those sound like legitimate responses. To me it feels more like salt on a wound rather than a band aid or stitches.<br />
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Also, please do not complain about your pregnancies or fertility to someone struggling. I know that personally I am always joyful for new life even if it takes me a second to get over my grief for myself. And I would love to hear about your babies and pray for your struggles. Just don't call me to complain.<br />
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Just try to be respectful of feelings and when in doubt, offer your prayers and sympathies. You can never go wrong with that. And listening helps too. I figure stuff out by talking it out. In fact, I'm pretty sure that listening to me blab in this blog entry has already shaved some time off of purgatory for you. Congrats. Thank me later. ;)<br />
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For all I know I could end up pregnant next month, or in a year, or never. Only God knows. I'm trying to take this all one day at a time and seek councel from a strong, Catholic doctor that understands fertility and respects my faith.<br />
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I am filled with joy at God's goodness to me. I have more than I ever dreamed or will ever deserve. I have more than many. But I'm still allowed to say, "Yes. My heart is broken." It's full and broken all at the same time. I'm going to strive to continue to exude joy no matter what happens in the future because God is still good. I hope you will understand my moments of weakness.<br />
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So do what you want with this post. I'm expecting the spectrum from eye rolling to sympathy. I just wanted to be honest. We all have our crosses, our struggles, this is mine. I cannot complain but instead want to share my struggle and in humility ask for prayer because I will be much stronger covered in prayer.Sarah Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04960773414012072638noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1143632831855533608.post-56421195099757105882012-07-16T07:31:00.001-07:002012-07-16T07:47:32.999-07:00I have girls... not ladiesFirst of all, a big shout out goes to my friend Lisa who gave birth to her daughter on my anniversary. She is such a dedicated reader that she waiting until my series about my wedding was over to give birth! I also believe that since she gave birth on my anniversary that her baby girl is a gift for me and I am therefore allowed to eat her toes.<br />
<br />
But congrats to Lisa! YAY!<br />
<br />
At the Behr house we have been having a lot of fun with weddings because mommy had spent a good portion of last week showing Madeleine her wedding photos, listening to my wedding song, and watching my wedding videos. This has led to some very interesting "weddings" around the Behr house. So far Madeleine has married myself, her sister, a dress, a basket, and the table. I'm not sure she "gets" what a wedding is but boy does she love having them. She s my little Elizabeth Taylor.<br />
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Meanwhile Juliette has taking to streaking. While she is currently in clothing, I am not expecting this to last long. And then there is her big sister who farts and then says, "Excuse me! My butt burped!" and the laughs hysterically. The doctor did say, "It's a girl!" not "It's a lady!"<br />
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The whole "Juliette stripping" thing is apparently taking it's toll on Madeleine's mental health. Yesterday they were in their room cuddling and I could hear Madeleine saying to her sister, "Oh I love you! You are so cute! Let me rub you back! Thank you for your hugs!" So I went into the room and smiled at them and took their picture. I left and only a few minutes later I hear Madeleine saying, "I am losing my mind! Why are you taking your diaper off?" I went back into the room and sure enough, Juliette was diaper-less. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9vSSYHlEUR8npxRZ4TtiBLY3-Rib3m7gHc-2n4sdZy98cLdNhB-cGo-VoX1Y7RGWCIxIjV9Yv3FICFdeOZOC1E3GzPkQoK1e4L6OrsAWb4i7ncokD7VydXyHVXGu-qJrPZl1u_t6nt-Y/s640/blogger-image--371996491.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9vSSYHlEUR8npxRZ4TtiBLY3-Rib3m7gHc-2n4sdZy98cLdNhB-cGo-VoX1Y7RGWCIxIjV9Yv3FICFdeOZOC1E3GzPkQoK1e4L6OrsAWb4i7ncokD7VydXyHVXGu-qJrPZl1u_t6nt-Y/s400/blogger-image--371996491.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cuddling with her fully clothed sister</td></tr>
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As many of you know, Saturday was our anniversary. To celebrate, I made Kyle a meal fit for a Texan. There was chicken fried chicken, gravy, mashed potatoes, gravy, biscuits, gravy... it was glorious. He bragged that it was some of the best he had ever had which just made me so happy because I wanted it to be perfect for him. I even broke out the fancy china for the occasion.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjZhv_IVxKVMjJ5AMDWz1Mi0jGDFe43tH34aFn7Qs7AkWkXALxWQuoHR2D0r4z3dXDWst2TIOeFTep0gi3hyXGNbC8NBGSOapSWJJVL6x9J3dlOweu1mQEObmSEhRRGnP8TLrMu9MR2As/s640/blogger-image--1198074178.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjZhv_IVxKVMjJ5AMDWz1Mi0jGDFe43tH34aFn7Qs7AkWkXALxWQuoHR2D0r4z3dXDWst2TIOeFTep0gi3hyXGNbC8NBGSOapSWJJVL6x9J3dlOweu1mQEObmSEhRRGnP8TLrMu9MR2As/s400/blogger-image--1198074178.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Every bit as good as it looked!</td></tr>
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<br />
<br />
Today Kyle and I are dropping the girls off at my mom's and heading into New York City for two nights all on our own. We are super excited about it. The girls are too because they know that this means they are going to get spoiled. Madeleine even let me put her hair up this morning and Juliette is giving Saint Joseph a checkup before we leave.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKsKiIHm4VlPsMcdIV_Y2na1by0YBftg8Eu9IgU5oBGALKKS9xekcPMdtq0YOqFuk8AUwHrLuI4sUBg0zWh5Z8CQ7tcQizwSLPAtX7ITq5AegVAkhAhoN2AuWsf9NCwISiwePe7Y5PG6c/s640/blogger-image-1401760085.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKsKiIHm4VlPsMcdIV_Y2na1by0YBftg8Eu9IgU5oBGALKKS9xekcPMdtq0YOqFuk8AUwHrLuI4sUBg0zWh5Z8CQ7tcQizwSLPAtX7ITq5AegVAkhAhoN2AuWsf9NCwISiwePe7Y5PG6c/s400/blogger-image-1401760085.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My little doll</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoRe-3y8vwthHclWLN5Rdq8JqURcs1wW1bHNicWSirbLZYuHFrTiOIn01EPYe7X5mG7DItwsCmSbV9Mo-J3pSvfH9MDV_Nxhgfd8V7VTXJvyUSNmONFAi0_n0PuZLrKVPYpAyRNFIJSXU/s640/blogger-image-897654965.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoRe-3y8vwthHclWLN5Rdq8JqURcs1wW1bHNicWSirbLZYuHFrTiOIn01EPYe7X5mG7DItwsCmSbV9Mo-J3pSvfH9MDV_Nxhgfd8V7VTXJvyUSNmONFAi0_n0PuZLrKVPYpAyRNFIJSXU/s400/blogger-image-897654965.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh no! She can't find his heartbeat!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And that is my short, little update. Hope you liked it! I'm sure I will have lots of pictures from New York.<br />
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</div>Sarah Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04960773414012072638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1143632831855533608.post-61530884815688420952012-07-14T09:05:00.001-07:002012-07-14T09:08:11.288-07:00Sarah and Kyle Part 6- The LifeFairy tales, romantic comedies, they are all about the story of how the couple comes to fall in love, the trials they face during their relationship, and how they eventually decide that they want to be together. At least in the past these stories and movies have ended with a couple getting married, but too often today they just end with the couple hopping into bed together. Then the picture comes to a close and we are supposed to assume that they have lived happily ever after.<br />
<br />
I think that is why we have this attitude that the wedding day is the finish line, the goal. When I was engaged a friend of more told another friend of mine, right in front of me, that at least she still had her "surprise to look forward to"... as if once you know who you are marrying then that is just it for you. No surprises for the married woman.<br />
<br />
I was surprised just yesterday. My husband wanted to get my anniversary present a day early and decided to tease his impatient wife by leaving clues and making phone calls saying, "<i>Guess where I am now. I'm in _____ area of Boston. Do you know what stores are there.</i>" And, because he knows me, he knew that I would fly to my computer and look up all the stores in that area. By the time he got home I was bouncing off the wall and he had me cover my eyes while he got my present ready. When I opened them he was holding the box that had held my engagement ring and when I opened it there was a ring with my birth stone, which because it is pink also symbolizes the two daughters that I have given him in these five years.<br />
<br />
The story of how Kyle and I met and fell in love is a good one. The story of how we grow that love is even better. To say "and they all lived happily ever after" would be to do away with the best part of the story. It's watching Star Wars episodes 1-3 and leaving out the original 4-6. <br />
<br />
If you want a good story, something that happens after marriage, let me tell you about the time I found out that I was pregnant with Madeleine. I could write a five part series about that too. Or when I gave birth and saw her little face for the first time and realized how much I loved her. Maybe I could write about when I found out I was pregnant with Juliette and I almost passed out in a Jack in the Box parking lot. Or the little surprises in life, they make great tales too. I could talk about when Kyle brings me home flowers after he knows I have had a hard day. Or when my kids said their first words, took their first steps, the first time Kyle actually managed to put his laundry away.<br />
<br />
"They" tell you that planning a wedding is like a marathon, but honestly, it doesn't need to be. Relax and focus your energy into making sure that you are as strong as possible as a couple because LIFE, what happens after the wedding day, makes planning a wedding seem like a leisurly stroll. Life moves fast and you'll want to freeze time and hold onto those moments you will never get back, the days that it's just "you" before kids come, the days you only have one kid to chase after, because the future seems daunting and uncertain. But then your first child is born, the second and you wonder what you were so scared about. It keeps getting better. Why did you ever want to stop time in the first place?<br />
<br />
Then, eventually, you learn to sit back and enjoy it because, yes there is stress but there is far more love and joy and if you are blinded by your fears and your ambitions then you won't be able to see the beauty of God's plan unfolding before you.<br />
<br />
A real love story looks and sounds like a newlywed's first fight, staying up until three in the morning to talk just because they can, the first time the wife buys plane tickets under her new last name, being gathered around a stick you just peed on to see how many lines are there, calling family to share the good news, the newborn's first screams, the insescant talking of the toddler, the school bus, the sound of the dishwasher running all day every day, finding an old apple inside the play kitchen, the first time your child is rejected and you consider beating up whoever hurt them, being concerned about money, buying a house, losing a job, illness, finding out if the puddle on the carpet is pee or water, finally finding a baby sitter so you can go out, and way too many pictures uploaded on facebook... and those are only the early years. There is still so much more to come.<br />
<br />
Five years later I am happier and my life is filled with more love than I ever imagined. There have been struggles along the way before, loss, sickness, and our vows have endured it with the bond between us growing stronger. We know each other better, have learned how to help each other better, understand each other, and give the other person what they need and not what we think they need. We've learned to communicate better. We've gone on some amazing adventures together, birthed two children and lost one other. We have lived an amazing life and it's only been five years.<br />
<br />
So what is it to this thought that marriage is the end of the road, that once you get married you are stuck and boring and bored? I honestly have no idea. I haven't had a chance to accomplish and experience even a fourth of what my parents have in their 31 years of marriage but seeing them, the joy of their children getting married and having their grandchildren, I know that there is still so much more to come and none of it would have been possible if five years ago today I hadn't said, "I do."<br />
<br />
Kyle, thank you for understanding me and taking the time to look beyond the walls I put up to see the person underneath. Thank you for finding me interesting and listening to my stories. Thank you for putting a ring on it. Thank you for putting another ring on it five years ago today. Thank you for the incredible honeymoon. Thank you for staying at my bedside and praying with me the night we lost our child, for being there when I woke up, for taking care of me in the months that followed with you endless patience. Thank you for moving up to Massachusetts and for being as protective of
my sisters as you are of yours. Thank you for always taking my side in
public but for talking me down in private and challenging me to grow. Thank you for protecting me from angry secretary lady. Thank you for your joy when we found out that Madeleine was on the way and for cleaning up the floor that time I puked all over it. Thank you for flying out to California when I found out I was pregnat with Juliette to help me on my flights because I felt sick. Thank you for going to McDonald's at midnight that time I was craving chicken. Thank you for being there at both births and just backing off so I could do my thing. Thank you for touching our girls after they came out even though they looked super gross. Thank you for helping me on the late nights. Thank you for working long hours. Thank you for coming home and still playing with the girls and doing the dinner dishes and not just expecting me to serve you because I "stay home all day" but respecting that my job is hard too. Thank you for always telling me what a great job you think I am doing and not picking apart the little things. Thank you for being such an amazing daddy to our girls and not complaining because you want boys. Thank you for being open to life. Thank you for always encouraging me in my faith and for your strong example. Thank you for being the head of our family so I can live in my role as the heart. Thank you for always stepping up, even if it means talking to the people shouting outside our girl's window at midnight. Thank you for waking up at 2:20 every day to go to bed. Thank you for telling me that the hardest part of that is not being able to tuck the girls in at night. Thank you for understanding that sometimes a girl just needs a new pair of shoes. Thank you for taking away the debit card when I'm talking about buying five pairs. Thank you for being the most amazing husband I could ever have imagined.<br />
<br />
I couldn't be happier.<br />
<b><br /></b><br />
<b>Or so I think...</b><br />
<br />Sarah Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04960773414012072638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1143632831855533608.post-45032092674026256162012-07-13T00:00:00.000-07:002012-07-12T21:02:51.836-07:00Sarah and Kyle Part 5- The Wedding<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihvVd_EqBRHWWwFdzh9rvUZgl4djxbVjof-5fxpFxsZdpzwcQHs0HOYTcuwLwyjpTExIHe_xy1CAP5kKHUj35524k4q0dhJId0NCzCcydFeVJUfpETFDqr8b2WmBcbQQrgH9eObfFtcfQ/s1600/107_503923117072_3093_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">A page is turned
in this life, he's making her his wife <br />
And there is no secret to the source of this much life <br />
When the grace that falls like rain is washing them again
<br />
Just a chance to somehow rise above this land </span></i></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Where the God of
second chance <br />
Will pick them up and he'll let them dance <br />
Through a world that is not kind <br />
And all this time, they're sharing with the one <br />
That holds them up when they come undone <br />
Beneath the storm, beneath the sun <br />
And once again, here you stand <br />
And once again, here you stand <br />
Your day has come</span></i></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Bebo Norman- "A Page is Turned" </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<br />
I've been wondering all day how I was going to write this post. I cannot tell the story of my wedding like I did all the others. Some things are just so perfect that words cannot express them. A scent, a sound, a fluttering of emotion, a profound peace, overwhelming joy, love, light... when I remember my wedding day it doesn't come to me in the form of a story, it's more of a joyful melody that plays in my soul. What was two has now been made one. The heavens are telling the glory of God!<br />
<br />
All my life I had dreamed of my wedding day and had tried to imagine what it would be like, what it would feel like, who would be my bridesmaids, what flowers I would carry, and how I would look in my dress and my veil. Same as any young girl I would try as well to picture the groom as well. I wondered who he was, where he was, and how we would find each other. What our story would be.<br />
<br />
Since I did not know "our story" already, I would get on my family's computer and write one out, a fairy tale about a beautiful blonde princess and her handsome prince.<br />
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Before I got married I was packing up boxes in my parent's attic to take with me to Texas and I found one. The beautiful princess had been in distress, under attack, when the handsome prince swooped in and fell in love with her and married her. In this story I had written, way back when I was only twelve years old, the prince was named Kyle. In fact, in every story I had ever written, the prince was named Kyle.<br />
<br />
You could probably say that I picked that name just because I liked it. I had heard it around my neighborhood and fell in love. I like to think that the God who knew me and loved me before time had written that name on my heart so I could know and love Kyle before I ever even knew he existed.<br />
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There are no dragons or evil witches in my tale for me to be saved from. Still Kyle saved me from a life of selfishness. His love for me inspires me to cast out sin from my life and love more ardently, selflessly, and completely. By choosing to marry him I was able to learn to put others before myself and to love until it hurts. As Mother Theresa says, <i>"I have found the paradox. That if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love."</i> Opening yourself up completely to someone can be frightening, it can make you feel vulnerable, but when you find someone who loves you, respects you, would die for you, it only opens you up to more joy than you ever thought possible.<br />
<br />
I am no helpless little princess, I am strong because I am able to open myself up to love. I could have a mediocre life on my own, I would be fine, but I instead have a great and wonderful life with my husband at my side. <br />
<br />
And so on July 14th, 2007 I chose to spend the rest of my life with Kyle. When the bridesmaids had processed down the isle and the Ave Maria wafted down from the choir loft, I held the arm of my father and walked with the sunlight streaming in behind me towards a future that I was confident would bring me happiness and holiness... would bring me to God. At the end of the isle, my father placed my hand into the hand of my fiancee. It symbolized that he, my father, had brought me this close to God, but, as we would soon take the next steps towards the altar together, Kyle would bring me further, closer.<br />
<br />
Standing behind us, filling the pews of the church that had held the wedding of my parents and where I had receive all of my Sacraments, were many of the people who had shaped us and formed us into the two, strong individuals we were right then. They had loved us and led us, held us in our suffering and rejoiced with us in our triumph. Now they were there to witness the beginning of our new life as one person. Before these people and before God we promised true to each other in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health and to
love and honor each other all the days of our lives. Then we placed rings on each other in a sign of our love and fidelity, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.<br />
<br />
And with those vows were were transformed, as Father Michael said in his homily, uniquely and completely, from two individuals into one union before Him, before the Church, and before the world. And then Kyle kissed his bride.<br />
<br />
The celebration that followed was, in a word, epic... although I feel like most of us feel that was about the celebration following our weddings. After months of planning it was perfect to be able to kick back and dance and sing and rejoice. As our wedding song said, the God of second chance did indeed allow us to dance... boy did we dance. And life couldn't get any better.<br />
<b><br /></b><br />
<b>Or so I thought...</b><br />
<br />
And now a whole lot of wedding footage!!!!!!!!!!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.firsttakestudios.com/ftscinema/sktrailerMBE.html" target="_blank">Our Wedding Trailer</a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgBawMNKYxSM8nbuntFmeL7KszN5bhw35bvP8oHTqTUe0ga11dU3SGUuPTa2ZnLyoJ7NQXMJK1DsKPrQSBvBayl7-8ququOodnB758xgaXmWz0hkMA6tPGqHQXguAr3JLpZmwyF6Lwz44/s1600/107_505821538870_8320_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgBawMNKYxSM8nbuntFmeL7KszN5bhw35bvP8oHTqTUe0ga11dU3SGUuPTa2ZnLyoJ7NQXMJK1DsKPrQSBvBayl7-8ququOodnB758xgaXmWz0hkMA6tPGqHQXguAr3JLpZmwyF6Lwz44/s320/107_505821538870_8320_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bachelorette Party- bride and MOH</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0czV3POlLpNgcEB_dl21RlW4y_chJvbayVp6YN0vepOr9U76rJnducfK9SJRmO8zuKjDeb0LrKqeSFNVzFtCIn3t1Tlz_OZohd-h8JmZxMYHYYXrT-tzOuUUKiXzuGBasxFIJkxUo0VE/s1600/107_505821543860_8547_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0czV3POlLpNgcEB_dl21RlW4y_chJvbayVp6YN0vepOr9U76rJnducfK9SJRmO8zuKjDeb0LrKqeSFNVzFtCIn3t1Tlz_OZohd-h8JmZxMYHYYXrT-tzOuUUKiXzuGBasxFIJkxUo0VE/s320/107_505821543860_8547_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The girls!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy7xvY-B-KpzDFL7lGzHl9Y6jUGLy25wk9-F4VgQAZbwgM2CdZRrYnV5gj8cgyKq19kW4MYjBW_ZB5Nr0mWIS6fnz526EZcQ-F582uRd4bETJ2bE-a2PNYdvYAChUBrNt8KizQCXnnPE8/s1600/107_505821553840_8934_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy7xvY-B-KpzDFL7lGzHl9Y6jUGLy25wk9-F4VgQAZbwgM2CdZRrYnV5gj8cgyKq19kW4MYjBW_ZB5Nr0mWIS6fnz526EZcQ-F582uRd4bETJ2bE-a2PNYdvYAChUBrNt8KizQCXnnPE8/s320/107_505821553840_8934_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Why yes I am wearing a tiara! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGtP6haHd5JOgj6yh2yaS4YZhT9M8YsiyiTYyFz_lnpCAQgn83ruolCaDOQ_QpB6pzUCp-aQ_-v-K3VsSf6Byr4vFHXNrUsp_czPo33lHdcMrf2jinLU0M8LejEwfSc7c4ybDafIJen7c/s1600/107_505821558830_9136_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGtP6haHd5JOgj6yh2yaS4YZhT9M8YsiyiTYyFz_lnpCAQgn83ruolCaDOQ_QpB6pzUCp-aQ_-v-K3VsSf6Byr4vFHXNrUsp_czPo33lHdcMrf2jinLU0M8LejEwfSc7c4ybDafIJen7c/s320/107_505821558830_9136_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not sure why I am posed like that but everyone else looked awesome</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx6b4ch5ojh0hVYs6bv6HXmEWPJXaj3v7xA6aw3lg7zOPyOpQibTj5n6JAqCPxDHB6FvB9dmakPPBAmwtkL3rYQUVrAjo-kAWX7CcKYT5_Fk1uek0pCAdApd5WNtwIp9ZZ_YJluNPHPoI/s1600/107_505821568810_9545_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx6b4ch5ojh0hVYs6bv6HXmEWPJXaj3v7xA6aw3lg7zOPyOpQibTj5n6JAqCPxDHB6FvB9dmakPPBAmwtkL3rYQUVrAjo-kAWX7CcKYT5_Fk1uek0pCAdApd5WNtwIp9ZZ_YJluNPHPoI/s320/107_505821568810_9545_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some love from my favorite girls</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgrmjd28ntYSBq1e0X0B_H0RV_lvSfDxq9SeKsa8JUZqYojoOB9IgBmW5Sj7gdu_05PR5oJWnLpxe0kjBnBN9A0OsuMJa_rSK__0y7qKmfcj9vZxVi5vPNKh2frOw60auLPFQal73QWBM/s1600/107_505821623700_1824_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgrmjd28ntYSBq1e0X0B_H0RV_lvSfDxq9SeKsa8JUZqYojoOB9IgBmW5Sj7gdu_05PR5oJWnLpxe0kjBnBN9A0OsuMJa_rSK__0y7qKmfcj9vZxVi5vPNKh2frOw60auLPFQal73QWBM/s320/107_505821623700_1824_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crying already, dad trying to calm me down. It's only the rehearsal</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo0X9oX2mz6L77TBTnBkc57yet5SPHXSmf7_j1HyyypbI6fowfPhizm-oO6Z6K1qCplCn9eE7YSYqnuIsgIkl7S9516TuPcvFe-M14T1zlvZQrAfrEoluxX0lTuBZdTOycmJwvLDbmKG8/s1600/107_505821633680_2276_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo0X9oX2mz6L77TBTnBkc57yet5SPHXSmf7_j1HyyypbI6fowfPhizm-oO6Z6K1qCplCn9eE7YSYqnuIsgIkl7S9516TuPcvFe-M14T1zlvZQrAfrEoluxX0lTuBZdTOycmJwvLDbmKG8/s320/107_505821633680_2276_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My awesome hat</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEies_nUt82FImeOQDOJBZZrxMAtSdV1flJ2BChfznEpb_VVBDOrZyDarYAH8WJJriJ8jjfXyq8aACGXnkzwkzBYMq44XVQtIGjz4a8m8T6CXAVQRyG4Wue6Nvcq-v7c-43swQEGgfBgnvs/s1600/104_506854099610_1564_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEies_nUt82FImeOQDOJBZZrxMAtSdV1flJ2BChfznEpb_VVBDOrZyDarYAH8WJJriJ8jjfXyq8aACGXnkzwkzBYMq44XVQtIGjz4a8m8T6CXAVQRyG4Wue6Nvcq-v7c-43swQEGgfBgnvs/s320/104_506854099610_1564_n.jpg" width="244" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coming into the church on the arm of my father</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiicIM8brsOLXYc2EhBQV62WohrrMN_jCW18mFdZHWM0lSfDQuo1cpmr7CuhOr4CJb4nxGwF5WsMrNwjqyNK4S1jhytVMaIAQlIp43Fuimzyyrs5MyeGI-tvsR_SigdBSKTJ3NZDZJq8C0/s1600/107_503923067172_881_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiicIM8brsOLXYc2EhBQV62WohrrMN_jCW18mFdZHWM0lSfDQuo1cpmr7CuhOr4CJb4nxGwF5WsMrNwjqyNK4S1jhytVMaIAQlIp43Fuimzyyrs5MyeGI-tvsR_SigdBSKTJ3NZDZJq8C0/s320/107_503923067172_881_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking so joyful!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUYK1WhwdAGfMDZAVimUn9A0TdO06LEgbORwwV2dIwKu9D4-uyHaA9prUtp1nDLHEUWMPdasrsBhb7ULou6C9yrSv9SPi6t3g7T0wKifAZKiPTncdMZIS3IVa18qqFt3T-4UCIkrDdECU/s1600/107_506885561560_296_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUYK1WhwdAGfMDZAVimUn9A0TdO06LEgbORwwV2dIwKu9D4-uyHaA9prUtp1nDLHEUWMPdasrsBhb7ULou6C9yrSv9SPi6t3g7T0wKifAZKiPTncdMZIS3IVa18qqFt3T-4UCIkrDdECU/s320/107_506885561560_296_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our vows</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0qxXeFQyDmrGiZ2smIKApzhhX3gdVzBsZoJMgwIymPyM-9JKuWxUoDhG4BWqh1PFZhqoiQ9oUSQG49I4VYCW_KNw5Ceif7ihCHzpn9mTEVCHHnILiogjzzvzMG6rKtGOaMNDsS9fUzNw/s1600/107_506885581520_1386_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0qxXeFQyDmrGiZ2smIKApzhhX3gdVzBsZoJMgwIymPyM-9JKuWxUoDhG4BWqh1PFZhqoiQ9oUSQG49I4VYCW_KNw5Ceif7ihCHzpn9mTEVCHHnILiogjzzvzMG6rKtGOaMNDsS9fUzNw/s320/107_506885581520_1386_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kissy, kissy</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfHrnsuDojQeR102BDKyamu5qenNY5WolbASvq49EGXagcYLpa3nHCwwaGi-WE2-1DrmYHG_gT0vH_9dIMUEvT0_8_6nGifWeHC3b53JJv_7HQOFuWLse_r7cSYugT_rym0ZXY0wOLQic/s1600/107_506885596490_2211_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfHrnsuDojQeR102BDKyamu5qenNY5WolbASvq49EGXagcYLpa3nHCwwaGi-WE2-1DrmYHG_gT0vH_9dIMUEvT0_8_6nGifWeHC3b53JJv_7HQOFuWLse_r7cSYugT_rym0ZXY0wOLQic/s320/107_506885596490_2211_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Life, my Lord, my Love, my heart's desire. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPorZLh6H3mpbA1Y-F93JRQicPzFdsSZ8ZgNEmjMfvDAotcTIuCmAWeob61HJxpB7mR32PsmEfxdAv4qYntlJ6rk2GSwJHajcwGER4gCa98GFGE1YwclA3INpTdLloYKoNlRy6shf9cj8/s1600/107_506885601480_2470_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPorZLh6H3mpbA1Y-F93JRQicPzFdsSZ8ZgNEmjMfvDAotcTIuCmAWeob61HJxpB7mR32PsmEfxdAv4qYntlJ6rk2GSwJHajcwGER4gCa98GFGE1YwclA3INpTdLloYKoNlRy6shf9cj8/s320/107_506885601480_2470_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leaving as husband and wife</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJDwvol-mW3IvZphRz8hLvd1A5Jfo2PR_umGr__L0OegQGTJhXdNlITkLdmocrjES4XfD7Dzlqvnuaew7T6Zn7oW8GhXn2tVUlLvA6XL2vwF7cJZsy0wGrJ5RJdw_pCHVdf-yxtlbCoIo/s1600/107_506885611460_3026_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJDwvol-mW3IvZphRz8hLvd1A5Jfo2PR_umGr__L0OegQGTJhXdNlITkLdmocrjES4XfD7Dzlqvnuaew7T6Zn7oW8GhXn2tVUlLvA6XL2vwF7cJZsy0wGrJ5RJdw_pCHVdf-yxtlbCoIo/s320/107_506885611460_3026_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We are so, so in love.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihvVd_EqBRHWWwFdzh9rvUZgl4djxbVjof-5fxpFxsZdpzwcQHs0HOYTcuwLwyjpTExIHe_xy1CAP5kKHUj35524k4q0dhJId0NCzCcydFeVJUfpETFDqr8b2WmBcbQQrgH9eObfFtcfQ/s1600/107_503923117072_3093_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihvVd_EqBRHWWwFdzh9rvUZgl4djxbVjof-5fxpFxsZdpzwcQHs0HOYTcuwLwyjpTExIHe_xy1CAP5kKHUj35524k4q0dhJId0NCzCcydFeVJUfpETFDqr8b2WmBcbQQrgH9eObfFtcfQ/s320/107_503923117072_3093_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The whole bridal party</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx60vMAmxZnvp4c0ao_sVIRWOWP0McY8OCc4YNcw7dy5U6-MUUau6xGXMdFqDshfOAllKbN8A1wN_qWGtxTrUNjVLdTum7UqBHjpo16fDKl1g4ilPWTkXwHOlnEVPtUxTlISxK8R6zLsI/s1600/108_505373571600_675_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx60vMAmxZnvp4c0ao_sVIRWOWP0McY8OCc4YNcw7dy5U6-MUUau6xGXMdFqDshfOAllKbN8A1wN_qWGtxTrUNjVLdTum7UqBHjpo16fDKl1g4ilPWTkXwHOlnEVPtUxTlISxK8R6zLsI/s320/108_505373571600_675_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Groomsmen</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhng_pkVn4ul00qnl0HyEO_oZbhIF-2ZidTrunNTHRajs8pg1DTtfAI8vKMed0_zADsAgvJdVWHPuIMBcTMaHEfuPy3hzJirTxHlcxgX2r3FJsMrvhbDQOd2GIC7Ykp17HiDMc5eIQKv0E/s1600/107_503923092122_1959_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhng_pkVn4ul00qnl0HyEO_oZbhIF-2ZidTrunNTHRajs8pg1DTtfAI8vKMed0_zADsAgvJdVWHPuIMBcTMaHEfuPy3hzJirTxHlcxgX2r3FJsMrvhbDQOd2GIC7Ykp17HiDMc5eIQKv0E/s320/107_503923092122_1959_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With my parents</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGmHF9goxsD0oCOaHZtD1UmkkHjK0cJ6uMtmUFR0hnqiWf3XXLeE6TKw8Pr5o-lvokbJmAgKvY2YOG6-e7VmZEV1JrmU9dft0tjbd1_oLBv7psvUcpuEnnuYVljFz8HQDyAgO554vCqqI/s1600/108_505373561620_247_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGmHF9goxsD0oCOaHZtD1UmkkHjK0cJ6uMtmUFR0hnqiWf3XXLeE6TKw8Pr5o-lvokbJmAgKvY2YOG6-e7VmZEV1JrmU9dft0tjbd1_oLBv7psvUcpuEnnuYVljFz8HQDyAgO554vCqqI/s320/108_505373561620_247_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My daddy's side of the family</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh30c5VrAaq1gXfCZZgpPQtISU044ipd9zt1t9NhZo7kdACYfiKfNwXmZ7OM4n8LbHk3WJG2fdBEYjMX5yhC0HRin7atlO10_IHVFPC1DQw-LwvqfbffhugDpUSITDwwrq5G-qt0C1D2YU/s1600/107_503732319657_1092_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh30c5VrAaq1gXfCZZgpPQtISU044ipd9zt1t9NhZo7kdACYfiKfNwXmZ7OM4n8LbHk3WJG2fdBEYjMX5yhC0HRin7atlO10_IHVFPC1DQw-LwvqfbffhugDpUSITDwwrq5G-qt0C1D2YU/s320/107_503732319657_1092_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm like, "HOWDY!" and Kyle is probably laughing at me.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjtrAOHmvFHccV-r3YLOFbXjhUjGidsPgjVT2WZTb-luRIcAWM4CHzQXm6VlZRsKWsumNga3Xnjam2V-SQgc6Ej6pbbwK1XsMXp3Jd_G70r8YIZdi70v4w3VCxr7mBbnjnwARczlkV5-4/s1600/107_506885761160_1388_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjtrAOHmvFHccV-r3YLOFbXjhUjGidsPgjVT2WZTb-luRIcAWM4CHzQXm6VlZRsKWsumNga3Xnjam2V-SQgc6Ej6pbbwK1XsMXp3Jd_G70r8YIZdi70v4w3VCxr7mBbnjnwARczlkV5-4/s320/107_506885761160_1388_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not sure what this is all about, I'm either dancing or leading the wedding guests to revolt</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi146-gmBYrpC1O8j9rKo6L36Nsz4hRS5ZDnfNjzNgYPshyphenhyphenjHeW-7cI2k3OnaSbAQmnOVM7G-cCLY7Q-yRUcFLfXkeNKEeTYf-Nx4Nv0UsOCcmCWy2-NO02Ztt05gI5l6fajDse7Pr0knI/s1600/107_506967597160_7567_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi146-gmBYrpC1O8j9rKo6L36Nsz4hRS5ZDnfNjzNgYPshyphenhyphenjHeW-7cI2k3OnaSbAQmnOVM7G-cCLY7Q-yRUcFLfXkeNKEeTYf-Nx4Nv0UsOCcmCWy2-NO02Ztt05gI5l6fajDse7Pr0knI/s320/107_506967597160_7567_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scary, I know... I wanted cake.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXZeXVTx1jX3I10OA61cxQALq_7zOKCRjf7lxWVidnA1SCNH1awKw3MrGQJ0_0SJUJG_38qPpstiuHftUQAYM0LFDV_QP42Z5iwOIhpjD_YgowbzKmYeDYRBMgCtd12ZWOezZcf9FlGfs/s1600/107_506967612130_8286_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXZeXVTx1jX3I10OA61cxQALq_7zOKCRjf7lxWVidnA1SCNH1awKw3MrGQJ0_0SJUJG_38qPpstiuHftUQAYM0LFDV_QP42Z5iwOIhpjD_YgowbzKmYeDYRBMgCtd12ZWOezZcf9FlGfs/s320/107_506967612130_8286_n.jpg" width="259" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dancing with my daddy <3</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXC_hfUfQoc3VOBKrp3jmAXrZi5_eOM9V-gktwK4HqElzVJRn7F3M1sUwQSb5tZ1a-iWd77icKmRAKF4f1klC-FOHzxJD_86QAI5bVAPlFfkEOAZg7k2k8gVCmALkzOD8wzIc83hF02kk/s1600/107_506967662030_746_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXC_hfUfQoc3VOBKrp3jmAXrZi5_eOM9V-gktwK4HqElzVJRn7F3M1sUwQSb5tZ1a-iWd77icKmRAKF4f1klC-FOHzxJD_86QAI5bVAPlFfkEOAZg7k2k8gVCmALkzOD8wzIc83hF02kk/s320/107_506967662030_746_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Apprentices... serenading me?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq-gcFO_hUNoLelEuJ9RwnYv7HyhBv3UTrK_GBYGnIhQLSRyOOpYvuSKQIyxjDp1RVlj1RINOVc0-GI32-6fxiTteU2p8sna3ZrtdX7PbFdPNCIYkF4ra5CdP6WDS5yZ7Ft47HCfpRKOM/s1600/107_506967677000_1479_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq-gcFO_hUNoLelEuJ9RwnYv7HyhBv3UTrK_GBYGnIhQLSRyOOpYvuSKQIyxjDp1RVlj1RINOVc0-GI32-6fxiTteU2p8sna3ZrtdX7PbFdPNCIYkF4ra5CdP6WDS5yZ7Ft47HCfpRKOM/s320/107_506967677000_1479_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They all danced around us like a tribal circle with techno music</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEJts_rT55H0rM4CcZZtyBVeYWzxGsV-m2m7HxHD-IxK0cW2rO8GrRxVqfUA5uPv1EX5UCDVnJk_P74MM2_QYEyogKly2zEe0NNKHxAQlUKMi0m0o6pN_fJXhiw9nlwXZKP3kEz8j9s1A/s1600/107_506885751180_815_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEJts_rT55H0rM4CcZZtyBVeYWzxGsV-m2m7HxHD-IxK0cW2rO8GrRxVqfUA5uPv1EX5UCDVnJk_P74MM2_QYEyogKly2zEe0NNKHxAQlUKMi0m0o6pN_fJXhiw9nlwXZKP3kEz8j9s1A/s320/107_506885751180_815_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love of the Lamb</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leaving the reception</td></tr>
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<br />Sarah Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04960773414012072638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1143632831855533608.post-65762387868650875692012-07-11T21:09:00.000-07:002012-07-16T07:42:31.192-07:00Sarah and Kyle Part 4- The Engagement<div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Beneath the air of autumn, she took him by his hand <br />
And warm within the ardor, she took his heart instead <br />
And high upon the mountain, he asked her for her hand <br />
Just for her hand </i></span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Bebo Norman- "A Page is Turned"</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"> It was the fall of my junior year and Kyle and I had discussed and prayed about marriage and had reached the conclusion that this was, in fact, our vocation. Kyle had taken my dad aside during Parent's Weekend in early fall and gotten his blessing again, this time to ask me to be his wife. During a trip to Houston to visit Kyle's family together we had visited Kyle's family jeweler and worked together to design a ring. It was perfect. Now I just had to wait for it to be ready and for Kyle to pick a time to propose.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">All around me people we getting engaged. I would call my mom to talk about when my turn would be and she would say, "Just be patient. God and Kyle have your perfect moment planned." Then one fine fall day in November Kyle showed up at my dorm to pick me up for an off campus mass. He was on the phone and as I tried to approach the door he waved me away. Immediately I went around the corner to where he could not see me and began bouncing around, "I'm getting engaged! I'm getting engaged!" I figured that it MUST be the jeweler on the phone telling him the ring was ready. After all, household date night was the next day and we were, once again, headed to Light It Up night in Pittsburgh.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">The next day I watched to see if he left campus for any extended period of time. He didn't. Or so I thought. Turns out he had skipped class without my noticing and had gone while I was in mine. Sneaky, sneaky man.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">He picked me up that night and I could tell he was a bit... off? I started to get my hopes up again and I excitedly skipped off to his car. We were going to dinner in downtown Pittsburgh by ourselves and meeting up with the rest of my household and their dates later.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">When we got to the restaurant Kyle was acting REALLY WEIRD. For instance, he refused to give the hostess his coat. He also took his coat with him every time he went to the bathroom. And that night he went to the bathroom at least three times (which I learned later was when he was calling his household brothers, but more about that later.) During one trip to the bathroom I pulled out my cell phone and called my sister. I told her, "Lauren... I THINK IT'S TONIGHT." She started squeeling and went off to pray for me.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">After the meal was over, Kyle told me he thought it would be nice if we stopped off at Saint Mary's on the Mount first. It was a little Catholic church on top of a cliff overlooking the city of Pittsburgh. We had gone their often to pray when our dates had taken us into the city. Besides being beautiful, there was a specific reason he had chosen this church in particular.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">When we had started dating I had bought him The Jeweler's Shop by Karol Wvotilja (later known as John Paul II). It was, as described in the intoduction, a meditation on marriage in the form of a play, and it was one of my favorite books. "Study this." I had told him, "if you even think you might want to marry me someday." Flash forward months later and we were praying in the St Marys on the MOunt. At night they kept the church opened but only the back foyer which was seperated from the main part of the church by a big glass wall and a door. The kneelers were behind the glass wall so people could pray there at night and see the Tabernacle. That night I had commented to him, "This reminds me of the Jeweler's Shop, the part when Theresa and Andrew had approached the jeweler's shop together to pick out their rings and they had paused at the window and noticed that while they could see their own reflections in the window they could also look through and see the jeweler, who represented God, as well. Here we are and I can see our reflection in this glass wall but I can also see the Tabernacle which holds the True Presence of Christ." He told me later than he knew then and there that this would be where he proposed.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">As we pulled up to the church there was magically a spot right in front but what I noticed were the candles lining the stairs to the church and the statues of Mary and Joseph on either side of the door. I started to shake like a leaf as he took my hand and led me up the stairs. Inside the room was filled with more candles and rose petals were everywhere covering the entire floor. He took a small box out of his pocket and dropped to his knee.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><b>Sarah, I pledge my life to you. Will you be my life's companion?</b></i></span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">He had even used part of the proposal from the book because I had talked about how perfect those word's expressed marriage to my heart.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><div><span style="font-size: small;">I ripped the glove off my hand and said, "YES!" And then started to grab the ring. Then I said, "No you do it!" and he slipped the ring on my finger and stood up to kiss me.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgANMfstdNpnIDCFBhZWXh2IgGn6hRY55P4I4Qc3EAKauGaCVXN2BPmygn_THLthmkA6166WxL3lr8IB0ryx5NRKYfDFBHPqUapiNGsYcVAlWD3IIo9RZyR79t5_GeCOH8SrQ1SYcsnt-Q/s1600/247116_504314708570_3209_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgANMfstdNpnIDCFBhZWXh2IgGn6hRY55P4I4Qc3EAKauGaCVXN2BPmygn_THLthmkA6166WxL3lr8IB0ryx5NRKYfDFBHPqUapiNGsYcVAlWD3IIo9RZyR79t5_GeCOH8SrQ1SYcsnt-Q/s320/247116_504314708570_3209_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The joy and the love!</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipGQS0I8y2g6jvi1NdCTTvlERkxg0SHloXrs9dZg3768PWKb96nD_0ndycUiLX9pn2JYNUlIijFwzOJ69WvaHzmt8IvreTYP0O8GVaXNzbt0sgdZRiydpX0csEMjN7IHTRdKnb0qF5Rfw/s1600/248313_506884917850_1655_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipGQS0I8y2g6jvi1NdCTTvlERkxg0SHloXrs9dZg3768PWKb96nD_0ndycUiLX9pn2JYNUlIijFwzOJ69WvaHzmt8IvreTYP0O8GVaXNzbt0sgdZRiydpX0csEMjN7IHTRdKnb0qF5Rfw/s320/248313_506884917850_1655_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The BLING!</span></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">We walked out of the church hand in hand and there were fireworks and crowds of creaming and clapping people. I'm not even kidding. There were fireworks going off and an entire youth group of hundreds of teenagers were outside cheering. Kyle's household brothers were waiting around the corner because they had been there to set the entire room up and I hugged and thanked each of them. We then took off to find my household sisters and slow off my new BLING!</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipU3BHSUgI_0ddnRm-KjhPABw0GM8HGLDTyCpGSU1ED-HRf3zagSxTE3wnkxf51ue3ACHEA0f449Jy1IQ8dBupXub7AF3ng6AE8APiWQde0Z_KbDl8DIHyo1RwckyUFNK5UTVkLhFV8Tk/s1600/249578_506884912860_1329_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipU3BHSUgI_0ddnRm-KjhPABw0GM8HGLDTyCpGSU1ED-HRf3zagSxTE3wnkxf51ue3ACHEA0f449Jy1IQ8dBupXub7AF3ng6AE8APiWQde0Z_KbDl8DIHyo1RwckyUFNK5UTVkLhFV8Tk/s320/249578_506884912860_1329_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Ice Skating Rink where it all began</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><div><span style="font-size: small;">When we got back that night Kyle dropped me off at my sister's dorm (she was a college freshman) and I dropped to my knee and asked her to be my Maid of Honor. Kyle took off for bed as the two of us girls started to plan the wedding.</span></div><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA9uxOeqey3VkuRzZNPRXUKtlnQ3eWpHN3bxwvgwbWcthrR9L6APGQjyN4HmT9RuZCTbYHuqCe4inKBfIXGZN8Ei9L4KWC86qZ8PKoPNgDqagXQmsTN2WhY4aScPlf50b6RLL1TCk2h_M/s1600/247033_505820740470_5657_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA9uxOeqey3VkuRzZNPRXUKtlnQ3eWpHN3bxwvgwbWcthrR9L6APGQjyN4HmT9RuZCTbYHuqCe4inKBfIXGZN8Ei9L4KWC86qZ8PKoPNgDqagXQmsTN2WhY4aScPlf50b6RLL1TCk2h_M/s320/247033_505820740470_5657_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Celebrating with my little sister, my maid of honor!</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">We set a date nine months away and began to plan, not as much for the wedding for our life together. A wedding is one day but a marriage is a lifetime and we realized that preparing for this should be our top priority. We took Natural Family Planning classes, Marriage Prep, and made plans for the future. We grew in our relationships and individually as God used this time to shape and mold us into people who could share in a journey that will hopefully lead each of us to heaven someday. We fell deeper in love. Still it seemed like our wedding day would never come.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><br />
</b></span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Or so I thought...</b></span></div>Sarah Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04960773414012072638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1143632831855533608.post-28751116113034040082012-07-11T18:13:00.000-07:002012-07-11T18:18:16.277-07:00A little less boring update about the Behr CaveSo the past few days have been amazingly fun!<br />
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First of all, thank you to all of you who are reading my "mini series" about Kyle and I. I am so glad so many of you are enjoying it! I am overwhelmed by how many people have reached out to me to express how much they are enjoying it! Such a blessing!<br />
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Anyway, this week has been awesome so far and it will only get better! My little sister (who just celebrated her first anniversary!) flew into Boston yesterday and despite being exhausted from working without a single day off, my darling husband offered to watch the girls so we could have some sister time. It was so wonderful to be able to go out and talk and laugh and be adults together. I tried to explain to Madeleine that her Auntie Lauren is my little sister just like Juliette is her's and she seemed utterly amazed by it all.<br />
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While we were out getting groceries this morning (yes I make my sister run errands with me! My back hurts and she helped me lift stuff!) Kyle decided to take the girls to the park. He gathered them up and said, "Okay girls, we are going someplace special! Can you guess where?" Madeleine replied, "We are going SHOPPING!" Kyle said, "No. No we are not going shopping." Madeleine paused and then carefully offered, "Sometimes we go to Starbucks." Kyle said after that conversation he made a mental note to scold me for corrupting our children later.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsnuduiU6p3TEdsZv7-ocwCG-WiM4i0sHjS6bqrReMP_NQr_GErv-rNC2eAmEQbaZM83ogya_sXhgGVwA_7APLasTHCTXCwX5gY_vp9jz-US2IjSUbMfgOnOwG3bUNg1GZOVmaumoRN6U/s640/blogger-image-849189597.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsnuduiU6p3TEdsZv7-ocwCG-WiM4i0sHjS6bqrReMP_NQr_GErv-rNC2eAmEQbaZM83ogya_sXhgGVwA_7APLasTHCTXCwX5gY_vp9jz-US2IjSUbMfgOnOwG3bUNg1GZOVmaumoRN6U/s400/blogger-image-849189597.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We do go to Starbucks though! This is Hipster Madeleine.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNMpQTwFxp08RxrKM8-Do1K_5aGaCmo99UGDauYewV3OOGsjDAF_dtrJ8a-4yk4q4DY83DRJb9-nrv1WZ78Guvof9PMAzOlryD1arXZmEVeq2OHTgYu3ElkgDECH5hvY50GnUxEVgbQ2Y/s640/blogger-image--1215331504.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNMpQTwFxp08RxrKM8-Do1K_5aGaCmo99UGDauYewV3OOGsjDAF_dtrJ8a-4yk4q4DY83DRJb9-nrv1WZ78Guvof9PMAzOlryD1arXZmEVeq2OHTgYu3ElkgDECH5hvY50GnUxEVgbQ2Y/s400/blogger-image--1215331504.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is Hipster Juliette.</td></tr>
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At the park a little girl around the age of five ran up to Madeleine and excitedly asked her if she wanted to play. Kyle says Madeleine looked at her, and then at him, and then at her, and then at him, and then pointed to her and said, "LOOK DADDY A FRIEND!" and ran off after her. Juliette tried to chase them down but couldn't keep up, stopped in her tracks, and screamed pathetically, "MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINE! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!" Poor little baby!<br />
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Juliette is such a different person then her calm, quiet older sister. She walks around the house all day singing, "HAPPY BABY! HAPPY BABY!" While Madeleine is literally scared of ants, Juliette tries to ride dogs no matter the size. Juliette's first sentence was, "Happy baby pooped!" which she said while lying butt naked on the floor of the kitchen with her legs in the air, ready for a change. The kid lives for naked time. They are both so different but so amazingly sweet and wonderful and bring so much LIFE into my life.<br />
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We dropped Lauren off with my mom today and headed back for home. We were supposed to bring the super, cool birthday presents they had made for Auntie Lauren and Grandmom but we forgot them. However, I did remember to take pictures!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDNEfsfXpmOskDyp2qxpA_oRjDHbS_3pdZtob0Hl7J6NKpvKOzKCruZ0zdZkbnu6PBNfTXrv2581bCYnNHT7__wMiPB4M220bKzBC59JahE27RUrRVk2EsEKiVXwwikOfmW1uAfftmiKo/s640/blogger-image-1635472586.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDNEfsfXpmOskDyp2qxpA_oRjDHbS_3pdZtob0Hl7J6NKpvKOzKCruZ0zdZkbnu6PBNfTXrv2581bCYnNHT7__wMiPB4M220bKzBC59JahE27RUrRVk2EsEKiVXwwikOfmW1uAfftmiKo/s400/blogger-image-1635472586.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Green for Grandmom</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red for Auntie Lauren</td></tr>
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Tomorrow my good friend from high school is coming up for a visit and my anniversary is Saturday! Great times to come and stay tuned for part four which will post at midnight!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXtAkqoINDNPPrTs6RocH__07ioCjgBNWUYuzfAORIhBHTCjL5PEVvC-yPQimqiMYix_vnlox0JS9ydc8_22kg8F9hxTQaid8jmNni2ABzpC8A8YqvPOdTLOwx4XfpFoFVtKxDBCZ3Cvs/s640/blogger-image--543634420.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>Sarah Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04960773414012072638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1143632831855533608.post-61792000875038160372012-07-10T21:14:00.000-07:002012-07-10T21:14:24.060-07:00Kyle and Sarah Part 3- The DatingMy household was holding it's first ever "date night" the fall of my junior year. As soon as it was announced I knew that I wanted to invite Kyle "as a friend". I asked him if he wanted to come to "not a date night" and gave him a yellow carnation, the color of friendship. He accepted and we made plans to have dinner on campus, I would cook, and then drive together to the ice skating rink where we would meet up with the rest of my household sisters and their dates.<br />
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To understand this next part, how completely random it was, you have to understand a thing or two about Kyle. He never gets lost. Ever. In fact I am relatively certain that in the entire time we have been together that he only has gotten lost once, that first night when we went on date night.<br />
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The ice skating rink was a little past Pittsburgh. We drove, and looked, and drove, and looked. We called people and no one picked up. We think we even landed in the parking lot of the place we were supposed to be but we couldn't find anyone's car. We got discouraged and Kyle suggested we try an ice skating rink that he had heard of in the city. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our first picture together</td></tr>
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We ended up in the middle of the city, just the two of us. It was gorgeous there. Pittsburgh was celebrating it's annual "Light it Up" night and there were even fireworks scheduled to go off later. I had no idea how to ice skate so Kyle had to hold my hand the entire time. For a "not a date night" it was incredibly romantic. After we went to a little diner and talked until two in the morning.<br />
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We decided to go to mass off campus together the next day and so in the morning Kyle picked me up at my dorm and we went to Saint Peter's. During the mass that verse that I had been meditating on for the past nine months kept coming up. The responsorial psalm, "The Lord is my Shepherd I Shall Not Want." The homily, "The Lord is my Shepherd I Shall Not Want." The communion hymn, "The Lord is my Shepherd I Shall Not Want." By the end of mass I was sure God was trying to tell me something.<br />
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After mass was over we decided to go out to breakfast and on the way there we started talking about Canada and how I had never been before. Kyle said, "Well, it's like four hours from here. We could go sometime." I said, "What are you doing today?"<br />
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We turned the car around at Lovers Lane (I'm not kidding, an actual street in Steubenville), headed back to campus for our passports, and took off for Niagra Falls. At that point both of our roommates, a future best man and bridesmaid, were convinced that we would get married.<br />
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Over the course of the day and the long car ride we discussed our relationship and decided to discern whether or not we were called to date while we worked on growing our friendship. I was sure of one thing though, no matter what happened I had never felt as much <i>myself</i> as when I was around Kyle and I had never felt like that <i>self</i> was so appreciated, all of its different aspects.<br />
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I gave it over to God and over Thanksgiving break Kyle showed his friends back home pictures of the girl he liked from Connecticut. We spent a lot of time together when we got back from Thanksgiving and decided that he should drive me home to Connecticut before Christmas break, ya know... on his way to Texas, and spend some time with me and my family. I also strongly suggested that he should ask my dad permission to pursue me. I'm traditional that way.<br />
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My family loved Kyle. My mom, who had known all my previous crushes were not right within the first few minutes of meeting them, told me how much she thought he liked me (and of course reminded me about her comment to me the semester before Austria). He talked to my dad about wanting to pursue a relationship and discern a future with me and my dad gave us his blessing and then bragged to his collegues about the young man who showed him so much respect the next day.<br />
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Our first "official" date was to New York City where we went ice skating again, dined at a fancy restaurant, and went to mass together. He headed back to Texas as my boyfriend, although even at that point I was pretty positive that he was also my future husband.<br />
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Over the next eleven months our relationship progressed steadily. We spent time with each other's friends and families, talked about our dreams, prayed about our future, encouraged each others independent growth, and he took me flying in those tiny, little planes. Kyle took me out on sweet dates and always made sure that those dates included at least a little time in prayer, usually at our favorite church in Pittsburgh.<br />
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He showed me respect and love and selflessness that I had never experienced in a relationship before. He protected my purity. I had also never experienced so much growth before. I was able to love him and still keep God as the center of my world and my highest priority. Our friendship was natural and we talked and laughed effortlessly. We shared many interests and what we didn't already share we learned about out of love for the other. I didn't look for him to complete me, I was already a whole and confident person, but he made me a better person without changing who I was.<br />
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By the time we went back to school for the fall of my senior year we were both positive that we would be engaged by the end of the year. Our relationship couldn't get any better.<br />
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<b>Or so I thought....</b>Sarah Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04960773414012072638noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1143632831855533608.post-8442001907279950232012-07-10T00:00:00.000-07:002012-07-09T21:00:46.235-07:00Kyle and Sarah Part 2- The FriendshipA year later I arrived at Franciscan a bright eyed, bright haired, exuberant college freshman. I was excited about everything, all the possibilities that lay ahead for me. My future. God's plan. I would study Theology and Catechetics, find a household, meet life long friends, and maybe even find a husband. I moved into my room in Marian Hall and set out to meet as many people as humanly possible.<br />
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I had just gotten out of a three year relationship in high school and wasn't actually interested in dating right away (more just perfecting my eyelash batting) when my parents showed up for Parent's Weekend in the fall. I took them around, introduced them to my friends, dragged them to a Lord's Day, and worshiped with them at a Festival of Praise. After the FOP was over and we were walking around campus my mom said, "I feel like God told me something about your future. He told me that your future husband was in attendance at the FOP and that it was someone you had already met but someone you would never guess." My mind started reeling. "BUT I HAVE A CRUSH ON EVERY BOY!!!" I said in my best teen girl squad voice. I thought back to all the guys I had met and never once did the nice guy from my college visit cross my mind. I learned later that he was, in fact, at that FOP.<br />
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I wasn't exactly one for studying first semester freshman year and therefore I found myself spending a lot of time across the courtyard at Trinity Hall. From what I could tell, boys studied far less than girls and they also ate more pizza. Plus if you were a girl they would generally give you this pizza for free. I became friends with many of Kyle's friends. I did remember him from my visit a year prior but since I doubted he remembered me I kept my mouth shut. <br />
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Over the course of many months we because friends. I helped him bake a cake for his girl friend's birthday and he talked to me about my crush and encouraged me to "go for it". Over the summer I went to a retreat in San Antonio, Texas and he drove from Houston, just for the day, to visit with me. Still, no where in my mind did I think that we would ever date.<br />
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Kyle went to Austria in the fall of my sophomore year and during that semester I began my plans to study there in the spring. I thought about him occasionally but nothing more than I thought about anyone else who was studying abroad that semester too. During the winter, after he had gotten back from his semester, I had a complete nervous breakdown about traveling. I had never left my family for that long before and was scared out of my mind. I sent him a message online and he immediately called me and talked me down. Then he spent a good half hour talking my mom down too. After my mom hung up the phone she turned to me and said, "Who was he and can you date him?" I laughed at her and said, "Oh that's Kyle. We are just friends."<br />
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Over my semester in Austria I remember vaguely feeling a little, tiny bit disappointed to learn he had started dating someone but was confused as to why that was and pushed it out of my head. Really, what was going on back on campus was the furthest thing from my mind. When I got back from that semester I had changed a lot. I had seen the world, spent so much time before Our Lord in prayer, been there for a wake of John Paul the II and the installation mass of Benedict the XVI, made new friends, hitchhiked an 18 wheeler, and gone through my first ever heartbreak.<br />
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I would go to adoration every day and had spent every moment praying to understand the verse, "The Lord in my Shepherd, I shall not want." I had realized that there was so much in my life that I had desired that I had lost sight of the only One who could truly fill my heart. I prayed every day to love God above all else to the point where I would want nothing else except Him. I prayed that I wouldn't want to have a husband but to have Jesus, to not want to be a nun but to want Jesus, to not want friends but to want Jesus, to not want people to admire me but to want Jesus. I had never focused on something so hard for so long in my entire life. The ADD girl who couldn't focus a thought was gone, I was focused on becoming God's and God's alone.<br />
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As soon as my plane touched down in Connecticut I began making plans to visit campus before everyone left for the summer, as our semester had ended a couple of weeks before theirs. While I was visiting Franciscan before summer break I met up with Kyle and we decided to get lunch. I told him all about my semester and my heartbreak and how God was changing me. He told me how glad he was that I was doing so well and said, "You'll find someone. I mean, I'm not sure if I could ever date you because you are crazy but I'd marry you." And then I cracked up, because I am crazy, and he knew it.<br />
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The next semester Kyle broke up with his girlfriend and I tried to be there for him as best I could as a friend. After I visited my family over a long weekend he picked me up from the airport and we hung out, got ice cream, and just talked. Kyle told me later that he remembered thinking, "I just need to find someone like Sarah" but that he didn't think that would lead to dating me. And I was happy being his friend but I figured that I was God's now so I didn't want to be in a relationship.<br />
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<b>Or so I thought....</b><br />
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<br />Sarah Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04960773414012072638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1143632831855533608.post-82096611171559321992012-07-09T17:33:00.000-07:002012-07-09T17:34:06.765-07:00A Rather Boring Update About Current Events at the Behr Cave Before I Post Part Two TomorrowThis week has been a little better for me. I was able to get to physical therapy and learn some exercises to get my back healing. I'm still not able to do too much, but of course I over exert myself and pay for it later. Such is the life of a mother.<br />
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I tried to make it to mass yesterday for the first time in three weeks today and majorly failed. I was in so much pain only ten minutes in that I had to leave. Of course it's probably because earlier in the day I had convinced myself that it was a good idea to run errands with the girls and yesterday I had gotten sick of the clutter and cleaned. However, even if I hadn't done those things I have a feeling the hard wooden pews would have gotten me. Still, it was nice to even get those precious ten minutes in the presence of Our Lord. I have a feeling that He will really get to healing me this week. I am very peaceful at the idea of being able to attend mass with Kyle next weekend for our five year anniversary.<br />
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This week we are finding out when Kyle will officially go from being an employee of Air Tran Airways to one of Southwest Airlines. I am trying to bribe Kyle's boss for a promotion by baking her my special "chocolate and mint three layer brownies". Mostly though we have teased each other back and forth through Kyle about our sports allegeinces. I thoroughly appreciate that Kyle has a female boss, especially one who is also a Republican.<br />
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The girls have been restless being cooped up inside for so long. I try to get them out for a little each day but there is only so much I can handle and since Kyle has been working long hours and extra days he isn't able to help too much (although he wants to because he is an awesome husband and father). Today I took them out and we sat at the little local airport and watched the planes and helicopters take off and land. The girls were fascinated by that. I also tried to take them to the library but Madeleine threw a tantrum two minutes in and we had to leave.<br />
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My sister Lauren is coming in for a visit tomorrow and Kyle is going to watch the little ones so we can get some sister time. She told Madeleine that she was bringing her birthday present with her which Madeleine someone decided was a puppy. I had to talk her down off of that one. If it were up to me we would never get any pets ever.<br />
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Anyway, that the little update about our life. I'm still going to be posting the five part series about how Kyle and I met through when we got married. I can't wait for my kids to read it someday and realize that their parents really love each other a lot. Sorry this post is so boring, I've been taking it slow but it should perk up soon!<br />
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Keep praying for my back and keep reading the series about my husband!!Sarah Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04960773414012072638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1143632831855533608.post-63393578930371268422012-07-09T00:30:00.000-07:002012-07-08T22:56:15.522-07:00Kyle and Sarah Part One- The MeetingAs our five year anniversary approaches this coming Saturday I have decided to write about my husband in the five days leading up to it. Some people may roll their eyes and wonder why. I've seen comments on facebook before about people being uncomfortable by public displays of affection in social media between a husband and a wife. They seem to think that this means they do not say "I love you" in private. Let me assure you, I tell my husband that I love him as often as I can and I try to show him even more than that. <br />
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I don't really have any special talents (unless you count having an uncanny ability to recall 90s pop lyrics at the drop of a hat). I cook as well as most, I'm terrible at sports, I can't sing, I can't play any instruments, I have no artistic talents whatsoever, and I am no good at crafts. The thing that I am the best at and that I am the most proud of is how I love my family. I have a holy, loving, and wonderful marriage. All the glory for that goes to God, not myself, who is the source of Love and Goodness... He is Love and Goodness.<br />
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This series of posts is for Kyle and it is for God. God gave me my
husband and I hope that in this world our love for each other can be an witness of the love of Christ and His Church. My witness is how I can
thank God for all of my blessings, most especially my husband on this
special occasion. <br />
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Anyway, with that said this is Part One of that Story of Sarah and Kyle. This is how we met.<br />
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I met Kyle when I was a senior in high school. I had known that I wanted to attend Franciscan University basically since I was a freshman and the time for my college visit was finally upon us. I was beyond excited. My dad and I traveled to campus on September 10, 2002. Apparently since it was almost the one year anniversary of September 11th tickets weren't as expensive as normal. Originally I was supposed to stay with a random host but at the last minute a friend of mine had called and said that I should stay with someone he knew. Plans were changed and I unloaded my bags in a tiny room in Marian Hall not even thinking for a second that a year from now I would be living just down the hall.<br />
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My hostess took my around campus the next day after my tour was over, we went to two different masses and a prayer service for the victims of 9/11. I was so touched by the outpouring of prayer shown by each person in attendance and that most of the student body had showed up. After the prayer service we went back to the dorms and she introduced me to her friends. To be honest I don't entirely remember meeting Kyle. (Kyle, however, remembers that I was very blond and very pretty). I was bubbly and excited to be there and just wanted to be friends with absolutely everyone I met. Plus, I had a boyfriend at the time. <br />
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As the weekend went on I fell in love with the school. I knew that this school was a place where I would be able to figure out who I was and who I wanted to become and grow in my relationship with God. The students were kind and generous, open and loving. They all encouraged me to attend next year and said they would look forward to seeing me. I could feel God pulling at my heart, really reaffirming that THIS was the place I was meant to be.<br />
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On my last day there I really wanted to do something nice for my hostess as she had been so generous to me. Her tall, dark haired friend named Kyle offered me a ride to Walmart. I specifically remember being impressed by his car, not many students drove Audi A4s and the dark green color was particularly pleasant.<br />
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When we got to Walmart I grabbed supplies to make chocolate covered strawberries and we hopped back in the car to head towards campus. Of course, this was Kyle driving and with Kyle driving no trip out is that simple. He asked me if I wanted a tour of the town and I said, "yes" so we drove around the city of Steubenville and he showed me all of the major landmarks... not that there are many. It's Steubenville after all. It was fun driving around with him and despite his being shy I thought we got along nicely.<br />
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He dropped me off and I thanked him for the tour and that was the end of that.<br />
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<b>Or so I thought...</b>Sarah Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04960773414012072638noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1143632831855533608.post-47113566333222856992012-07-02T16:53:00.001-07:002012-07-02T17:51:54.651-07:00Three weeks in pictures- Sarah tries speechless<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZng9uENkbr8ISvA5vXpMYakEtaz-ka1OkEpu_b9MdBEKySpfXjRHjErsXZ22k2J-RCYpHa9QMqhrqRxo6KWtbbPXJaFpga9_kr2XX7GTCaJ6Riw5dQszZQV1IDSJAv4-xIIOa79vsuNY/s640/blogger-image-318695949.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><br />
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<br /></div>Sarah Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04960773414012072638noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1143632831855533608.post-30842118968083188632012-07-01T20:26:00.000-07:002012-07-01T22:03:15.316-07:00For her third birthdayDear Madeleine,<br />
<br />
Before we found out we were pregnant with you we had no idea if we could have any children at all. You see, a few months before I took that positive pregnancy test we lost your older sister or brother and one of my tubes. I suppose you will have no idea what that means for quite some time but it was the worst heart break I had even been through.<br />
<br />
All my life I had dreamed about being a mommy someday. Other kids wanted to be doctors, astronauts, teachers, scientists, rock stars, and actors. I wanted to have children. During the months between losing our first child and finding out I was pregnant with you I went through many different stages of grief. I mourned my loss and I prayed that someday my heart would feel whole again. My heart ached. That part of me that I thought God had made to be filled with motherly love was instead uncomfortably stuffed full of fear and sorrow. I prayed that God would fill it instead with His love... in whatever form that may be.<br />
<br />
He answered that prayer by giving me you. From the time that pregnancy test turned positive my heart was full of love like I never imagined was possible, love that could only come from the one who is Love. All of a sudden, so much of God was made just a tiny bit clearer so my tiny heart could understand Him. I loved you before I knew you; I finally understood how God could have loved me from the beginning of time. I would gladly die to see you in heaven; I could finally start to wrap my head and heart around Jesus dying on the cross for me.<br />
<br />
I've been very blessed with a lot of love in my life. I have amazing parents, siblings, friends. Most especially I have your father who could and would and does lay down his life for me daily. This was something new though. Your grandmom would tell me when I was pregnant with you that I had no idea what I was in store for. She said explaining how much you love your children is like trying to explain how much I love Kyle to someone who has never been in a relationship. Until you have that kind of selfless, lay down your life, do anything to get them to heaven type of romantic love in your life you can never understand even the concept.<br />
<br />
And so throughout my pregnancy I loved you. I loved you each time I threw up because I knew it meant you were safe and healthy. I loved you as my stomach started to expand and the stretch marks started to show because they were my battle scars, my proof to the world that I had carried life within me. I loved you when I first saw your heart beat on the monitor, when I was afraid I had lost you because I had spotted. I knew you were a fighter and that there was no stopping you from coming into this world. I loved you from the first time I felt you move, it was something special that only you and I shared because you were mine. I loved you when I found out that you were a girl, my daughter, my princess, my Madeleine. I loved you when your little head injured my pelvis and I couldn't even lift my legs onto the bed without help because in your movements I could sense your personhood and knew that even at that stage you were a complete individual. I loved you when I got kidney stones and I would do anything, suffer anything, to keep you healthy and keep myself out of surgery and the risk of delivering you early. I loved you when I was almost two weeks late and you refused to come out. I loved that the night I went into the hospital to give birth to you was exactly one year after I had lost your sibling and that the day of my deepest sorrow had turned instead into my greatest triumph. I was at the end of one of the longest marathons of my life and I was about to finally meet my child.<br />
<br />
Since there were complications during your delivery I was not able to hold you right away. I watched as they suctioned your lungs from across the room. I took it all in, your giant size, your dark hair, your almond eyes, your pink cheeks, they way you stayed calm despite the bright lights and the sounds and the people. I watched as your daddy reached out and touched you for the first time and I longed to hold you in my arms. At that point in my life I wondered how I could ever love any more. And then I held you in my arms finally and I did. I loved you even more.<br />
<br />
In my wildest dreams I could never have imagined that this much love is possible and I am reminded on a daily basis that I can love more and that the love I have for you is a fraction of what God has for us. Time has gone by far too quickly but as each stage, newborn, baby, toddler, slips away I am honored by being able to witness a new one, witness your growth and transformation into the person God created you to be. My prayer is that I can foster and stir up in your heart all of the gifts and graces that are yours by virtue of your baptism and that by growing up in God's light you will be open to even more love than I know. You could travel through time and space and I can guarantee that nothing will be as miraculous and life changing as finding love. Whether your become a nun or a wife and mother, I know that if you follow God's will that your life will be filled with untold amounts of joy.<br />
<br />
I am so blessed that this is where God led me, to the path where I am a mother to a beautiful, smart, caring, cautious, imaginative, amazing little girl. I love you Madeleine. You are the answer to my prayers and you are the light in my life that lights the way to God. I hope that someday you can read this and realize that if you hold this much beauty to me, how much you are loved by your Heavenly Father and by your Mother Mary and I hope that once you realize that you never let it go.<br />
<br />
Happy Third Birthday Princess.<br />
<br />
All of my love,<br />
<br />
MommySarah Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04960773414012072638noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1143632831855533608.post-21302198629490331392012-07-01T18:35:00.001-07:002012-07-01T18:35:27.077-07:00Lots of rest for the not wickedMy mom came up Thursday and Friday nights to help me with the wee ones while I tried to recover from this whole "back injury" thing. By Friday night I was still in so much pain that I ended up in urgent care where they gave me some anti-inflamitories and told me that I needed to see a physical therapist ASAP.<br />
<br />
We decided Saturday that since my mom had to head back to Connecticut and since I was still barely able to get off of the couch that she would take the girls with her for two nights. Although I've been away from Madeleine for that long before I had never left Juliette over night and was kind of freaking out internally. I knew it was best for me and best for them but I still didn't want to say goodbye.<br />
<br />
We loaded them into the minivan and I went to each side to say bye. First I went to Madeleine and she gave me a huge hug and told me, "Now you go lie down and close your eyes." as if she was lecturing me on taking care of myself. Her little brow was even furrowed and her eyes were serious as she stared at me. And that was only the second cutest thing she did that day. Earlier she had put her princess crown on my head and smiled at me proclaiming, "You look perfect mommy. You are perfect mommy because you are MY mommy." She is an angel.<br />
<br />
Then I went to Juliette's side of the car and rubbed her head and gave her kisses. She smiled at me and said, "BYE BYE DADDY!" really excitedly. You win some, you lose some.<br />
<br />
Now I have been sitting here, alone, while Kyle has been working over time. It sounds great in theory. I mean, the first day I took a three hour nap, ate ice cream for dinner, watched TV, and then slept for 11 hours. However, I AM BORED. I miss my babies. And it stinks not being able to take advantage of this time by cleaning or cooking or shopping. It's just me and Jack Bauer and the gang at CTU trying to save Los Angeles... again. <br />
<br />
I'm starting to do a little better. I've canceled all my appointments for next week and dominated round after round of Fruit Ninja. I'm taking it slowly and hopefully when the girls get back tomorrow I'll at least be able to sit in the playroom with them without pain.<br />
<br />
God is good though. I'm glad I have a life I love and miss when I am not able to enjoy it. It would be sad if watching TV was better than my day to day. I miss those stinky, silly little girls but I'm glad they are having a blast at their grandparents. I can't wait to hear all about it when they get home.Sarah Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04960773414012072638noreply@blogger.com0