Rewind: Pre-Christmas Festivus

Let's go back, just briefly, to before the ripping and tearing, before the pre-Christmas Drama.

I just wanted you to have a quick feel of the Christmas Festivus here at the Seriously, Though household.

There was popcorn stringing...



And tree decorating...



And gingerbread house making...


And reindeer food sprinkling...

Pre-Christmas Drama...

There was a little drama before Christmas this year and it wasn't the normal last minute shopping, wrapping, what-the-heck-should-I-buy-Aunt-Sally type of drama. I mean, there was definitely that kind of drama and that kind of drama I can handle. I think best when I'm up against a deadline. But the kind of drama that came our way this year, well, let's just say that I was not prepared for it.

There was a seemingly healthy man in our household who was having chest pains when he took a deep breath. And since there's only one man in our household, that pretty much narrows it down for you. Steve works at a hospital and so it's pretty easy to get some basic tests run if he thinks he has a problem. You know...a random x-ray to check for a broken finger after a karate incident or a quick EKG to make sure his heart is beating in rhythm. It's a perk of the job. I prefer large bonuses and fancy conferences in sunny Florida myself, but last week I was happy that Steve had access to the random diagnostic test.

In response to his chest pain, Steve's coworkers ran a few tests that showed all was normal with his heart, but he just felt like something wasn't right. He went to his doctor, who told him that he probably had an inflammation and pulled a muscle. He gave him some special ibuprofen and sent him on his way. When the pain wasn't gone the next day, Steve asked a doctor that he works for to run a blood test. When the test came back abnormal, the doctor gave him an order for a CT to make sure he didn't have a blood clot in his lung (pulmonary embolism...scary stuff). Nobody really thought Steve had that, because his symptoms just didn't really sound like it, but they all wanted to be sure that he was okay.

Unfortunately, our insurance wouldn't give him the immediate thumbs up to cover the test, so Steve decided to come home that night. In the car on the way home, he just prayed that if he needed the test, that it would all work out and if the insurance company didn't approve it, that meant he didn't really need it anyway. The minute he pulled in the driveway, the phone rang. The insurance company approved the test and he was to come back to the hospital immediately. Two hours later I got a phone call that he was in the ER and he had at least one and probably two blood clots in his lungs. God was on top of things that night (as He always is, huh?).

They repeated the test and Steve had a blood clot in each lung. By the time I got to the ER, Steve was antsy and anxious to get out of there. He still had his sneakers on and refused to lay down and relax. The doctor came to tell him that he was being admitted and that he was hoping he might be out in a few days, but it could be up to a week.

Christmas was only three days away and Steve assured me that he would not be spending Christmas in the hospital. He also told me that it was 10 p.m., he hadn't eaten, and he needed a bacon cheeseburger, stat (in his kindest, sweetest voice)! Obviously, he was not too worried about the whole thing (as I ran to Hardees and then delivered the contraband burger to his room).

I, on the other hand, was about to hyperventilate and fall flat on the floor (which I have been known to do on rare occassions such as this) at the thought of my husband with a blood clot in his lung. The doctor told us that Steve's blood clot was not what they call "the widow maker" (which is just barely reassuring) and that he needed to have his blood thinned a bit to clear things up.

Pulmonary embolism. Widow maker. Blood thinners. Not exactly what I expected to be talking about three days before Christmas. I couldn't get to the hospital the next morning because I had to do some things with the girls, but my awesome husband asked the pulmonologist to call me at home to discuss his health. I can only imagine what Steve told him about me (although I suspect the words, crazy. worrywart. wife. were probably in there somewhere).

The pulmonologist told us that Steve is considered a spontaneous clotter. They are testing for a genetic cause (which would then mean that the girls would be tested as well). But for now, they really thought this was a random occurance, which (insert hyperventilating on my part here) could occur again at any time in the future. We have to discuss long term blood thinners (although Steve says he's made up his mind on that and will be not be continuing the medicine past four months). I haven't turned on my powers of persuasion concerning this subject, so we'll say the issue is unresolved. Thankfully, Steve was discharged the next night (taking blood thinners and complaining about the shots he has to give himself). We made it home (via Red Lobster, because apparently the hospital food just wasn't cutting it).

So yeah...he's fine, but I'm not so sure about me. I could have done without the pre-Christmas drama (and I still panic every time he mentions that he doesn't feel quite right). Mostly, though, I am so, so grateful that he is well and was right beside me on Christmas morning.

Speaking of Christmas morning...here's a sneak peak:

Ten...A Photo Tribute

Ten years.

Then and now...

He holds my hand, pushes me to try new things, encourages me to follow my dreams, wipes away my tears, laughs uncontrollably with me (and sometimes at me), makes me crazy, disagrees with me, indulges my crazy ideas, settles my restless (worrisome) heart.

Mostly, he loves me.
For ten years, he has loved me with his whole heart. Could a girl ask for anything more than that?








(As promised...here's an embarrassing picture! There is a dolphin under each of my feet and they are pushing me across the water in this picture. It was very cool...and the picture is a little embarrassing. No wonder everyone laughed at me that day!).




Steve, I pray that we have sixty more years to spend together (at least), and I look forward to all the fun adventures that lie ahead of us!

Weekends, Wineries, and a City Boy...

Amidst all the gardening talk and yard sale finds, I think I failed to mention that Steve and I celebrated our ten year anniversary last month. Ten years...Wow! I am planning a full out tribute post to Steve and to our ten, amazing years of marriage soon. Wait for it, ladies and gentlemen, as I suspect it will include some really great (and possibly a little embarrasing) photos from the past ten years!

But for now, let me tell you how we celebrated. Don't get too excited. It didn't include an airplane ride, a string bikini, or a fruity drink with an umbrella in it. We were planning to go to a Sandals resort in the Bahamas, to relive the crazy fun of our honeymoon (which was spent at a Sandals resort in St. Lucia). But a few months ago we made a decision to spend our Bahamas money on a trip to Disney with the girls. It seemed like a smart idea at the time, but right now, as I'm dreaming of a week with my man on a tropical island, I'm wondering what we were thinking when we made that decision.

So, instead of the Bahamas, we spent the weekend in beautiful, exotic, Virginia. We decided to do a little winery weekend tour. We woke up early and shopped in the coolest antique stores. Seriously, they were such cool stores (think Pottery Barn, except older and more stylish and more solidly made). Steve is a great shopper, and I love that about him. He even carried my purse around this huge antique store. How could you not love a man carrying a pink purse?

Side note: When I first started dating Steve, I told my mom that it wasn't going to work out because we didn't have anything in common. She asked me why I felt that way and I said, "Well, he doesn't hunt or fish or shoot archery...." She just kind of looked at me funny and said, "Yeah, but neither do you!" Ha...she had a good point! I had never dated a guy (or even known a guy, for that matter) who didn't do those things...that is, until I met Steve. He liked movies and shopping and going out to eat and drinking wine (or beer or jungle juice or tequila...ha!) and bunji jumping and being a little wild. I call him my "City Boy," though he would tell you that I'm more "city" than he is, because I scream at the sight of a spider and think camping should involve air conditioning.

So where was I? Oh yeah...my city boy and I shopped and ate lunch at a wood-burning pizza oven restaurant. We got "grown up" pizza (fancy cheeses and sauces, with lots of toppings). I think it was the best pizza I've eaten in my entire life (and I have eaten my fair share of pizza)! Then we set out on the winery tour.

The first place was beautiful.

Didn't I tell you? The wines...well, they were not so great. But we drank them anyway and then listened to some live music and took corny pictures on the deck.

Notice the water? We had to stay hydrated (and sober) so we could drive to winery two. We were goofier and louder(and possibly drunker?) at the next winery. This time, we swirled and sniffed and tried to see if the wines really tasted like the descriptions (who writes those descriptions anyway?).


Then we bought a bottle of wine and sat outside, stuffing our faces with warm ciabatta bread and tomato pesto sauce and drinking (Steve drank the wine, I stuck with gatorade...because someone had to drive). We decided that winery number three would have to wait for another day.


Later that night, we curled up together and watched a good Hallmark movie.

I guess my mom was right...my "City Boy" and I still have lots in common, even after ten years!

2011...

Let the Year of the Boat begin!

To read more about our maiden voyage, please see a full recap by my bravest friend Sheila. Can I just tell you that Sheila called me a few months ago (long before we had a boat), to tell me that she was in a sporting goods store and the life jackets were buy one get one free, so she was buying four. The girl was pressuring me (or she was in some kind of conspiracy with Steve, trying to ensure that 2011 really did become the Year of the Boat). Looks like she got her way (and she has a super cute pink life jacket that I am going to steal borrow the next time we're on the boat together).

So here's to the Year of the Boat...may it bring wonderful memories to our family (and may it continue to stay afloat)!

Out like a lamb...

...NOT! They're calling for temperatures in the low 20's tonight...the last weekend in March. My whole soul is just so ready for spring. We have seen the bulbs popping up through the ground, the robins have returned, and we started making plans for our real, live garden this year (as opposed to last year's overstuffed pots). But, as a last hoorah to winter fun, on this cold March weekend, here's some fun winter pictures from 2011 (and a prayer that we can soon pack up the winter gear and pull out the flip flops)! Steve spent quite a bit of time on this lovely snowman...which he decided was a little too wimpy for his taste. So he built what he likes to think of as his "Snowself," with the ripped biceps and super hot, six-pack abs. Ha! Steve's studly snowself was the talk of the whole neighborhood this winter! I would also like to point out that "Condom Hat" made a return this winter. Seriously...what is wrong with Steve's hat, with that little pouch on the top??? And, of course, a day would not be complete without a little sisterly love. Ellie decided that it would be so fun to jump on Kate. I'm not sure Kate was feelin' the fun, though! So...now that I've finally posted winter pictures, we can bid farewell to my least favorite time of the year and welcome in the warm breezes, green grass, and picnics in the park.

Daddy's Girl...

When I was sixteen, I had a long, lonely summer. My boyfriend and I had broken up. One of my good friends was hanging out with said ex-boyfriend (and therefore she was not hanging out with me), and I was spending those long, hot summer evenings with...my dad. Not exactly the way a sixteen-year-old girl wants to spend an entire summer, huh? Instead of having slumber parties, watching movies, and falling in love, I was sitting in the passanger seat of my dad's car, holding a giant spotlight, searching for deer. I do believe that spotlighting is considered a sport in this area, and I must say that I was pretty good at it. Around the middle of the summer, my dad had another brilliant idea...it was time for his little girl to learn to.... are you ready? Shoot a Bow and Arrow. Yes, the boyfriendless, lonely teenage girl was handed a weapon and told to shoot it. Nice. It was quite a summer. The funny thing is that I don't remember the summer I was 15 or the summer I was 17. It is that long, lonely summer that I spent with my dad, holding a spotlight and searching for deer, that will forever live in my heart. I guess it wasn't so "lonely" after all.

It is that summer memory that makes me smile when I see Steve sharing his passions with the girls. He has never complained about having girls (or about not having a boy), but he has made it clear that dance and gymnastics will not be the only interests that we share with the girls. Steve is not a spotlighting, archery shooting kind of guy, but like my dad, he does believe in teaching a girl how to use a weapon.

He has started sharing his love of karate with the girls, and he bought them swords and shields to balance out the tiarras and pom poms. Our little girly girls should be fairly well-rounded, thanks to a dad who loves them enough to share his passions with them. Who knows, maybe someday they'll spend a long, "lonely" boyfriendless summer with their dad... learning to break boards with one karate chop.

Frost, Food, and the "F" Bomb...

We went camping.
There was frost on the ground.
I could see my breath.
I got stuck in a freezing cold shower - I heard the "F" bomb fly from my mouth.
The girls ate breakfast outside, while wearing winter coats and gloves.
I shivered as I sat by a campfire.

We slept in a borrowed camper, with the heat on full blast.
We ate peanut butter and banana mountain pies, chicken corn potpie, a potroast, pancakes, bacon, smores.
We drove around in a golf cart and acted like rednecks.
I watched two little girls have the time of their lives.

Was it worth it? Absolutely.







Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. M for the use of the camper (and for setting it up and for letting us use your new, silky pink sheets, and for not worrying about how much damage two little girls *could* have done to the place)! We truly appreciate it!

Giving Thanks: The Spur of the Moment

This week, I've been really thinking about what I'm most thankful for, and I realized, again, that I am so thankful for spur of the moment things...things that don't take a lot of planning...little things that just happen or fall into place. Last week, Steve threw a rake in the back of the car, we both picked up the girls from daycare, and we headed to a local park to jump in the leaves. It wasn't planned and we weren't really dressed for it. If you look closely, Ellie is wearing a nightgown and a pair of dress shoes (which she calls tap dance shoes). It was "crazy day" at her daycare, and that's what she wanted to wear. But here's the important part...some of the very best moments just happen at the spur of the moment. Note: If you look closely in the picture above, Kate is trying to stuff the leaves into her pocket. She wanted to take them home with her. My sweet little girl is a hoarder, I'm afraid, and may one day be featured on a TLC documentary. Ha! Gotta love that girl!The next day, we decided that we needed a bigger pile of leaves. So we headed to my parents house, raked their front yard, and jumped in the leaves for over an hour. This time, the girls didn't get to have all the fun. They had to share the leaf pile with us!
Note: I'm sure that my butt did get off the ground a little more than pictured above (I mean, I was a cheerleader with a seriously mean toe touch back in the day). I think Steve just didn't capture me at the peak of my jump. Let's blame it on his photography skills (or lack thereof), shall we?



Look at those smiles. That's what I'm most thankful for!

And I'm also thankful that Steve has a job with great hours that allow him to be home with us more than a lot of other dads/husbands. I take it for granted that Steve will be home by 4:30 p.m. each day (and some days, when I'm home with two screaming, crying, cranky kids, it feels like 4:30 p.m. cannot come soon enough). But I know that there are many women who wait until much, much later in the evening to see their husbands. I take it for granted that Steve never travels for work and that he rarely gets called in late at night. Without his great work schedule, I know that a lot of the spur of the moment, fun things that we do just wouldn't happen. And so his schedule is definitely something that I am thankful for this year!