Our First Christmas: Part Tree

This Christmas is mine and the hubs first Christmas together as a married couple. We have had about 4 together as a couple but since we had a long distance relationship for most of our time together, we never got to indulge or take part of traditions.

So this year, because we could, we decided to start our own. Because one day we will have children and we will want to have something unique for them to look forward to. It started this year with the tree. Oh, the tree.

Our first "couple" ornament.

Not long after we were happily wed we brought up the conversation of Christmas. Where we would spend the holidays and what we would get people were among the conversation, but those were dimmed by the radiance and importance of the tree. The debate began. Real or artificial? That was the question.

Mr. Russell grew up with a live tree every year. He and his family lived in the country on a lot of land. With goats. Do you have that picture in your head? They totally had a real tree every year. It just fit. Warm and cozy kind of home, warm and cozy kind of tree.

I grew up in the city. If you know where I am from you might get a chuckle from referring to my hometown as a city but when comparing it to the groom's homestead, it is a metropolitan. We always had a fake tree. It was just what we did. And I loved it. Easy set up, beautiful for 25+ days, and easy take down. What is not to love.

Case in point. We both grew up in very different households. And we both wanted to carry on our traditions.So after much debating and considering, I gave in. Write that down folks. It may never be written down again. So real tree it is in our house this year. And it may be the last.

This tinsel is my favorite part of the tree.

Yesterday N had the night off and we went to the most precious place called Merry Christmas Tree Farm. We walked down to the plethora of Leyland cypress trees, pines, and North Carolina furs. After about 30 minutes of finding the perfect tree and walking away to find another perfect tree (and repeat) we finally settled on a mighty fine one. She's a beauty. Once we decided, we had her chopped, shaken, and strapped to our car and we were on our way. Once home, we were ready to get her up and settled in.

A souveiner from our honeymoon to Disney World.

Another 30 minutes passed and she was in her stand and being decorated. We were loving our new start to traditions. Christmas music was on, Starbucks was in hand, and everything was almost perfect. Once the star was placed on top we snuggled her into her new home in the corner. We both took a seat to enjoy our masterpiece and I thought to myself, This is one of the prettiest trees I have ever seen. She is going to be the envy of all the little elves eyes.

There are even green birdies in our tree.

And squirrels. 

That thought came crashing down right when the tree did. Thats right. Our beautiful, perfect in every way tree was on its side with the star pointing straight at me instead of the ceiling where it belonged. All I could do was put my hands over my eyes and try to convince myself that it was a dream. Or a nightmare. I finally pinched myself hard enough to snap out of it and got up to help my husband stand up our toppled tree. No big deal, right? Wrong. Remember we had a real tree...that means we had previously put water into its basin. That water was everywhere now. I was mad. All I could say was, This would have never happened if we had gotten a FAKE tree.

And even peacock feathers that were left over from our wedding reception.

After some huffing and puffing on both of our parts, we got the ornaments picked up, the water sopped up, and the tree stood back up. But thats where it ended. We were tired.

And what tree is complete without a star perfectly placed on top. 

So today after school, we put the ornaments back on the tree. Our first Christmas tree. But not before we tied some rope to 3 bricks and then to the tree to hold her stubborn butt up. And then we kissed. I like that part of this new tradition. And I have to say, she is full of splendor. Would you like to see?

 She is just grand isn't she. I am in love. 

Rescue

Today I sat in church and in front of me was this little girl sitting with her 4 member family. It was no time before she did what all little kids do in church when they have sat still long enough...

She mosied on down to the ground and pulled out some toys from her bag. Among the books and crayons she took out, 2 toys were her focus the whole service. A princess doll and a boy doll. It was so sweet. I am intrigued as to how girls as young as she know that boys and girls belong together. But not just that...

She played and played and played and then I tuned in to what she was actually doing- she was making the girl fall off the edge of her chair and then that dashing young plastic man came to her rescue. The little girl would hold the fair maiden in limbo with one hand while she outstretched the guys arms out to be ready to catch his beloved with her other. I was over come with emotions.

I wanted so badly to crawl down on the floor with her and whisper to her this...

Sweet girl...there is a man who loves you as much as this plastic prince charming loves his molded maiden. His name is Jesus and he did the same thing for you as the boy did for the girl on the edge of your chair. You see, we all mess up. You are so young you have lots of mistakes to make, but the glorious thing about it is that man named Jesus covered them. Instead of you falling off of a chair edge time and time again, you sin. And instead of him jumping off to save you in a heroic bound, He did something different. With arms outstretched still, He was nailed to a tree and took all of the bad that you will ever do and swallowed it. So you keep playing with these two dolls. Continue to send that boy after the girl each and every time she falls. But always remember, the same feat has already been performed for you. You are rescued. And you are loved. You are held in outstretched hands. And every time you fall you will be caught.

What a beautiful story. I am so glad that i have a Savior who saves me daily. I rest in the fact that I am loved by the only man with outstretched arms who will never fail. Won't you be a part of this fairy tale love story too?

We're Expecting...

Something soon. But not a baby. sigh. And hopefully it will come a lot sooner than 9 months. But before I continue, there is a small disclaimer...please sign below before you continue. 

*Remember this is my blog and I write to remember my life. If you think I shouldn't write about things like this, then please direct yourself to the red X at the top right of your screen.

**This post talks about gas. And bowels. And tears. And even a baby. So if you don't want to hear me vent on my blog then again, please have the satisfaction of pushing the red X. 

______________________________________________

This is where you sign. 

Ok, so if you have seen me lately and noticed that I had gained a few pounds, I have. I am having some medical issues in the form of a clogged bowel system. If that didn't sound painful then let me explain myself. I have so much air built up in my system that I am too bloated to wear any form of pants that button. I am not a go-to-the-doctor kind of girl but I have been in so much pain that I drug my expanding self on in. The doctor wasn't sure what all was going on so he suggested an x-ray. If I wasn't nervous before, I was then. 

The x-ray tech does her thing and sends me on out. 5 minutes later the doc comes back in and tells me that he has never seen anything like it. My bowels are completely backed up. Cram packed. Stuffed. Which causes air build up. Which was causing terrible indigestion. No wonder I was so miserable. 

Today I went to school for the first time since I have felt so bad. The students saw my expanding belly and in all their sweet innocence they questioned, "Mrs. Russell, are you pregnant today. You look pregnant today. Why is your stomach so big if you aren't pregnant." 

Do you know how hard it is to long to be pregnant, to want to carry a child, and then to be asked if you are pregnant. Because you are so big in the mid-section. But instead the only thing inside is a belly full of gas. And indigestion. And a breaking heart. 

I wanted to scream, "NO I AM NOT PREGNANT. I AM FAT BECAUSE I HAVE A CLOGGED BOWEL SYSTEM." 

But instead I kindly explained the situation the best I could and added the fact that I was very uncomfortable and would need to be sitting down more than normal. But all I really wanted to do was cry. 

So I managed at school but can I just vent some more. 

OK thank you. 

And I understand that this is the worst blog I have ever written ,but when all I can feel are air bubbles moving around in my gut, I think I have an excuse to be discombobulated. 

I have now forgotten what I wanted to vent about. 

So yes we are expecting. A delivery. With the help of 3 laxatives. A big delivery. And I am not ashamed to talk about it. I have no modesty. That went out the door a long time ago. (Sunday as a matter of fact...when all this started.)

Now if you will excuse me, I am about to go wallow in my own pity. And drink another laxative. 

Sheesh. 

The Post In Which I Talk About My Husband

The reason that I am writing this is because I told N that I wasn't sleepy. I said I wanted to blog but I had nothing to blog about. So he casually said, "Blog about me." How in the world am I supposed to resist an invitation such as that! Yeow! 

This leads me to tell you the story of our relationship....

The man with me in the above picture is my husband. When he was my boyfriend. 

We have both changed a lot since then.

1. We have both cut our hair.

2. He doesn't wear a necklace anymore.

3. The hat on his head is now at least 3 times lighter. And 20 times stinkier.

 (I think I have it hidden from him)

4. I am not that tan. 

5. His face isn't that skinny. I will blame my cooking on that one.

Below is where is all began. Camp Lake Stephens. Oxford, MS. 

This was a camp for special needs adults. I was a budding college freshman and he was a bachelor of a sophomore. (When I say bachelor, he was a very fresh bachelor. When I say fresh I mean he was stilltalkingtotheexonthephoneatthiscamp fresh.) Don't judge me for pouncing on a hot Christian guy when I could. Sista should have treated him better. Or not. Because then I wouldn't have him. So thank you Ex. I owe it all to you maybe a teeny weeny fraction of a decimal to you. The rest goes to God's divine plan. 

MSU. My Alumni. 

We dated for 3 1/2 years. Two of those we were at all times at least an hour away from each other. Some of that time we were 2 hours away from each other. That made for a lot of phone time. And tears. And getting to know each other more than we otherwise probably would have. Looking back on it, I wouldn't have had it any other way. We are the couple we are because of that time. During these 3 1/2 years...

HE...

1. Worked as a youth minister intern

2. Took me hunting 1 too many times

3. Surrendered to the ministry

4. Made me pee my pants from laughing so hard at his crazy antics

5. Made me love him more than I knew was possible. 

6. Became a real-life minister

7. Graduated college.

I...

1. Took classed to become a Special Education teacher

2. Worked at the same church he has a year before as a youth intern

3. Prayed that a certain red headed boy would find it in his heart to marry a blond (by the box) headed girl.

4. Entertained the thought of being a girl's youth minister. And just as fast dismissed it. 

5. Moved 3 times. 

6. Loved on this lady.

After a lot of this, and even more face to face begging and pleading and discussing our future...I became the luckiest girl in the world. 

And the madness began. I immediately planned a wedding while he so sweetly nodded his head when appropriate and acted as he is cared when I needed him to. He was such a wonderful fiance. He even took precious pictures with me. See...

Isn't he handsome. I think so. I hope our children look like him. 

 

9 months later, the day that I longed for all my life came true. That boy really married me.

And marriage has been the best thing that I have ever experienced this. 

As I write this in bed, the man of my dreams, the father of our future children, my soul mate and best friend lies next to me. Asleep. Peaceful. 

That is our relationship. Peaceful. Rest. 

There is no way in the world that I could ever describe the love that we share for each other. And some things I don't want to share because they belong to just us. But I will share this...

Love, when ordained and willed by God is perfect and whole. I am so glad I had my heart broken so many times before N. If I hadn't experienced loss and pain, I would have never know what it is like to be this whole. Our journey has been long. It has had so many ups and downs. It is crazy at times. But it is perfect. Absolutely perfect. 

My husband is Wicked!

Tuesday was a bad day at school. I felt like I had lost my touch as a good teacher. My kids were moody and I was cranky. It was no fun. But I clung to the fact that N had asked me the day before if we could go on a date Tuesday night. Ummm, hello....yes we can go on a date.

Before I left for school that day I had a hunkering to do something for N because he is always so good at putting  up with my shenanigans. That led me to purchasing a 5 pack of tickets to see the Memphis Grizzlies play...including the game against the Miami Heat. (Am I a good wife, or am I a good wife!)

I couldn't wait to get home to share with him what I bought. I was so proud of my self. He was stoked when I told him. I was happy to make him happy.

Then he told me that he wanted to downtown to eat. I wasn't in the mood that night to drive all that way and walk to a restaurant. I am a teacher. Come 4 o'clock I am tired of walking. Then he, in all of his wonderful husbandness, pulled out two tickets to the Broadway play, Wicked! Oh. my. Gosh. I flipped. Of course I wanted to go walk downtown and eat with my splendid hubs and then walk to Wicked. Did I say I was tired? Psshh...What do I look like? A sissy? I was ready to run a marathon.

On our way to Downtown. Isn't he precious. 

In 2.5 seconds I mastered the poof and got my teacher clothes off and my night out with the groomie clothes on, and we were off.

We ate at Spaghetti Warehouse and it was wonderful. Then for dessert we had Elphaba, Galenda, and the Oz himself. They were scrumptious. I cannot wait to see it again. Because I will.

Glinda and Elphaba

I love that we have such a fun marriage. We both were thinking of each other and how to do something for the other person that we ourselves don't necessarily enjoy. Because if you know anything about us, my man is not a musical man.

Us at the beautiful Orpheum theatre. 

It was perfect. Just like him. Ahhh. I am so very lucky.

Decide.

You have to decide to love someone. Did you know that? Well you do! Me and N just learned that. I think that we have just exited the stage in which everything was rosey and we were perfectly smitten with each other.

Its over. And while it may return for a short visit every now and again, we better get used to this new stage in our marriage together. In our love together. In our lives together.

The stage titled: Decide.

This past week, well not this one but the last, me and N had the worst fight ever. Now while I am in no way, shape, or form proud to admit that we are not perfect what we seem, I admit it because, well, we aren't what we seem. We have both always prided ourselves in the fact that we get along so easy. We never argue or even tiff. We just jive together. Its so natural.

But not last week. We tiffed, argued,  ok, so we flat out fought. It was not pretty to see. We were both so ugly and we were down right mean to each other. And we did what we were always told not to to-we went to bed mad. Bad mistake. Bad, bad mistake. The next morning we woke up and the tension was rough. It wasn't as sharp as the night before but it had time to stew and simmer and marinate. And it was gross.

All day we ignored each other through text. When I got home we acted like everything was normal, but the tension between us said otherwise. And then the best part of marriage happened...

We went to bed. And while I laid beside the man I fell in love with acting as if everything was OK, he reached over and touched my skin.

I melted. It was as if I was stone turned liquid under his touch. I began to cry and pour my heart and all of my feeling out. I was very vulnerable. As good as it is sometimes to spill all that you feel, it can be embarrassing. And thats when he said it. The thing that I will cling to until death do I part...

Love is a decision. 

I have never thought about that before. I knew up until that week that I was so deep in puppy love that he was everything to me, but I don't think I ever had to decide to love before. But after he said it and I gave it a minutes thought, I knew that he was so right. If we were going to make this marriage work we are going to have to decide to love each other. After the I Do's and butter creme cake, love is different. It is walking hand and hand through the tough. Through the ugly. Through the gross. And through the decisions. The biggest of which being deciding to love each other.

And I would be a fool to have a lesson like this happen in my life and not thank my Sweet Jesus for deciding to love me. He didn't have to cover my sins on that cross, and He doesn't have to bathe me in grace daily. But He does. He chooses to love me. Just like the sweet man does that I married on that cloudy March day.

Milk

This week me and N both got paid so we decided to take ourselves out to eat. We never do anything really special so we went downtown to see if anything hit our fancy.

We were driving into the metropolis and for once in my life I was not applying lip gloss in the visor mirror or changing the station. Nope. My eyes were free to see a man. A homeless man.

Digging. In. A. Garbage. Can.

We happened to be stopped at a red light so I had approximately 2 minutes to jump out of the car and help him. Instead, I just watched. I watched him stick the whole length of his arm into a filthy Memphis garbage can and pull something out. The something was a pint of milk. He looked at it and then he shook it and then he set it down on the rim.

He shuttered before going back in to see what else the garbage can had to offer and then he stopped. He went back to the milk. He grabbed it in his aged, weary hands and proceeded to take the top off.

Next, he smelled the milk.

He made a sour face as would anyone if they smelled milk that had come from a garbage can. I can only image how long it had been there. He capped the milk but he was thirsty. So thirsty that he removed the cap one more time and raised the jug to his lips.

The light turned green and N pulled away. I was on a date with the man who holds my heart but at that moment my heart with on a street corner with a man holding a glass of rotten milk.

I couldn't contain myself and began weeping for the man. Why was he there for me to see? What did God want to teach me from that? What is my duty as a Christian to aid the situation.

After I composed myself and apologized to N 1,000 times for crying over spilt rotten milk, I fell in love with him all over again. He said to me, "Do you want to go find him and invite him to dinner?" The tears returned as I said yes. So the search for the barren man began.

It still haunts to say it, but we did not find him. I kept praying over and over that the Lord would guide my footsteps straight to him. Or him to me. He had my heart and  I wanted it back just wanted to get to know the man who captured it while digging in filthy trash. But no such luck. So me and N continued on with our original plans...to have dinner. With each other. And while it was wonderful to spend time with my own prince charming, I wanted to share the story of a Prince of Peace to another man.

I am not sure why I experienced what we did that evening but I haven't been able to forget about it. I have prayed constantly for the man. I want to know that he didn't drink that milk. I want to know if he has received compassion from another Christian.

If I never understand that particular experience, I do understand the lesson that it taught me.

From today until my very last, I will pounce on every opportunity I am offered to help someone out. No matter what it takes. Especially if it means jumping out of a car door at a red light to offer to replace a jug of spoiled milk with the Gospel of Grace.