I know I say it a lot, but it's only because it's true: I feel immeasurably blessed/humbled to be married to Phill. And I'm only saying it again right now because it's a lead-in to my favorite part of today (so far, I still have some chocolate to eat and reading to do):
Phill dancing in our living room to "Let It Be" and "Hey Jude" with Savvy holding onto his fingers (this includes bouncing up and down as if jumping rope....incredibly exhausting, but little 2-year-olds do it for five minutes non-stop without breaking a sweat), and the boys rocking out nearby in their respective styles. (Jaxon laying lax on the couch, nodding his head up and down, chill as can be; Reed running around in circles, somersaulting, and bellowing with abject happiness.) We laughed so much tonight that my stomach hurts....Savvy was using a light saber as a microphone stand (she caught some Fergie today with me on TV; Glamorous held her spellbound)
The boys are in their beds, with their headphones in and their mp3 players on. Reed is singing, "NAA-NA-NA-NAAAA....HEEEYY JUUUDE" at the top of his lungs (unaware, of course, of how loud he is being to the rest of us), and Jaxon has his eyes closed, only quietly humming here and there, off in dreamy Hendrixland.
Oh, these babies. I used to wonder what it meant when people said, "My heart swells with joy"....and I am telling you, I get it. I feel like my heart is so full, at times like these when we are all laughing and smiling and connected and dancing and free, I wonder that my heart doesn't simply beat its way out of its cage of ribs.
Showing posts with label Phill. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Phill. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Sinus Surgery: So easy, even a caveman could do it?
Sometimes we have to do really crappy things to get to the non-crappy stuff. Today Phill had sinus surgery (really crappy) so that he can breathe freely (non-crappy).
It was a multi-faceted approach. They righted his deviated septum, the result of a volleyball injury (back of someone's head + Phill's nose) more than a decade old. They removed a huge (in the doctor's words) bone spur. And they cleaned out his sinuses.
I was grateful to have my dear friend Sarah and my other dear friend Ciera helping me with babysitting/picking up Reed from school, so that I was able to go to the hospital alone to pick up Phill. When I saw him, the first thing that came to me was, and please forgive me because I think my husband is incredibly attractive, THIS guy:
With a stint in each nostril, his nose was (as he would say) like a two-car garage. His eyes were closed, and his ridiculously long eyelashes were plastered to his cheeks, splayed out for me to ogle and envy. Under his nose is a sort of gauze moustache. I said, "You look sexy." I don't think he believed me.
True to form, he cracked jokes while we got him ready to go home. He continued cracking jokes, and actually, hasn't really stopped. Phill is a lover and a joker by nature....and apparently, percocet only enhances these qualities. He is a good patient, although I have to be quite bossy. (It's good for me. Hones my assertiveness skills.)
So now here I sit, my dishes finally done (dear dishes: i hate you. never come back. not-sincerely, rae.), my floor vacuumed, my children asleep and my husband rests, wheezing away with his musical nose, finally getting some Zzz's after his prehistoric day.
One thing I would like to add, in teeny-tiny print because I am still feeling sheepish about it? Do not schedule a carpet cleaning the same day your husband has surgery. Dumb idea, okay? Just....stupid. There is no time for things such as that on days such as these.
It was a multi-faceted approach. They righted his deviated septum, the result of a volleyball injury (back of someone's head + Phill's nose) more than a decade old. They removed a huge (in the doctor's words) bone spur. And they cleaned out his sinuses.
I was grateful to have my dear friend Sarah and my other dear friend Ciera helping me with babysitting/picking up Reed from school, so that I was able to go to the hospital alone to pick up Phill. When I saw him, the first thing that came to me was, and please forgive me because I think my husband is incredibly attractive, THIS guy:
With a stint in each nostril, his nose was (as he would say) like a two-car garage. His eyes were closed, and his ridiculously long eyelashes were plastered to his cheeks, splayed out for me to ogle and envy. Under his nose is a sort of gauze moustache. I said, "You look sexy." I don't think he believed me.
True to form, he cracked jokes while we got him ready to go home. He continued cracking jokes, and actually, hasn't really stopped. Phill is a lover and a joker by nature....and apparently, percocet only enhances these qualities. He is a good patient, although I have to be quite bossy. (It's good for me. Hones my assertiveness skills.)
So now here I sit, my dishes finally done (dear dishes: i hate you. never come back. not-sincerely, rae.), my floor vacuumed, my children asleep and my husband rests, wheezing away with his musical nose, finally getting some Zzz's after his prehistoric day.
One thing I would like to add, in teeny-tiny print because I am still feeling sheepish about it? Do not schedule a carpet cleaning the same day your husband has surgery. Dumb idea, okay? Just....stupid. There is no time for things such as that on days such as these.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
basic happiness
There are days when simple pleasures are totally adequate to make me mostly happy throughout the day. (I must admit that I am not yet well-adjusted enough for this to work every day.)
Here is a sampling of a few things that made me happy today:
Yep, strawberries. I did say simple pleasures, didn't I? Both the strawberries and the Ikea containers housing them. I just love the way it looks. (And tastes.)
Savvy and her new (new from D.I.) baby doll, Baby D.I. (Phill bequeathed this somewhat creepy dolly with the name "Deseret-Indigo", so she is "Baby D.I." for short.) All of a sudden this evening, Savanna looked at me and shouted, "Baby D.I.!! She wake up!" And she bolted into her room, with me on her heels. Holding on to the side of her crib, Savvy said, "My baby wake up! She awake!" So I took out Baby D.I. and put her in Savvy's arms. Isn't Savvy a good mommy?
I will be posting about my birthday and Jaxon's birthday, obviously not in chronological order, soon. He was very particular about the kind of cake he wanted, and I have to say, he was right on. This thing was delicious! I had two pieces today, and I'm planning on a third when the kids are in bed....sneaky, sneaky. (Once upon a time I hid in the pantry to eat a Creamsicle because I didn't want to share.) I love the fact that because I ran 9 miles today, I don't feel bad about 3 pieces of cake. I'm sure some marathon-training experts would be shaming me for my gratuitous dessert use, but....I just don't feel guilty! :D
Now, this thing....this thing makes me happy mostly in retrospect. I hate using the treadmill, but when I decide to be lazy in the morning and don't wake up in time to get my miles in outdoors, I end up running to the sounds of HGTV or the Food Network while Jaxon and Savvy watch a movie. Once I'm done, yeah, I'm happy!
Jaxon playing Lego Batman on the XBOX. His concentration is a hoot.
Reed ran into his room immediately after school to change clothes--into Phill's shirt. It makes me smile hugely to see Reed in Phill's clothes.
This man. The minute he walks into the door, my day is instantly better. I also happen to love him in uniform....so dashing.
Last, and of course not least, on my list of today's simple pleasures: A phone call from my beautiful sister, Liz! We were able to talk for much longer than normal. We laughed, we cried....no really. We cried and laughed. It's our style. :)
Here is a sampling of a few things that made me happy today:
Yep, strawberries. I did say simple pleasures, didn't I? Both the strawberries and the Ikea containers housing them. I just love the way it looks. (And tastes.)
Savvy and her new (new from D.I.) baby doll, Baby D.I. (Phill bequeathed this somewhat creepy dolly with the name "Deseret-Indigo", so she is "Baby D.I." for short.) All of a sudden this evening, Savanna looked at me and shouted, "Baby D.I.!! She wake up!" And she bolted into her room, with me on her heels. Holding on to the side of her crib, Savvy said, "My baby wake up! She awake!" So I took out Baby D.I. and put her in Savvy's arms. Isn't Savvy a good mommy? 
I will be posting about my birthday and Jaxon's birthday, obviously not in chronological order, soon. He was very particular about the kind of cake he wanted, and I have to say, he was right on. This thing was delicious! I had two pieces today, and I'm planning on a third when the kids are in bed....sneaky, sneaky. (Once upon a time I hid in the pantry to eat a Creamsicle because I didn't want to share.) I love the fact that because I ran 9 miles today, I don't feel bad about 3 pieces of cake. I'm sure some marathon-training experts would be shaming me for my gratuitous dessert use, but....I just don't feel guilty! :D
Now, this thing....this thing makes me happy mostly in retrospect. I hate using the treadmill, but when I decide to be lazy in the morning and don't wake up in time to get my miles in outdoors, I end up running to the sounds of HGTV or the Food Network while Jaxon and Savvy watch a movie. Once I'm done, yeah, I'm happy!
Jaxon playing Lego Batman on the XBOX. His concentration is a hoot. 
Reed ran into his room immediately after school to change clothes--into Phill's shirt. It makes me smile hugely to see Reed in Phill's clothes.
This man. The minute he walks into the door, my day is instantly better. I also happen to love him in uniform....so dashing.
Last, and of course not least, on my list of today's simple pleasures: A phone call from my beautiful sister, Liz! We were able to talk for much longer than normal. We laughed, we cried....no really. We cried and laughed. It's our style. :)
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Romantic Gestures: I Am an Unconventional Girl
Are you ready for something ridiculous? I woke up at 4:00a.m. to make my 7:00a.m. flight on Tuesday last. I got to the Vegas airport at 6:00a.m. sharp (Vegas time) and got to the ticket counter at 6:10.
Guess what?
That was too late.
"Oh, this is the Vegas airport, honey. We like you to be 90 minutes early."
WHAT?! OH....so I should have woken up at 3:00a.m.? My bad. (I'm sorry; some of the bitterness hasn't receded yet.)
I had a meltdown. It was ugly. Having gulped down some caffeine that early morning to be energetic for the drive, I was....energetic. I was jittery, jumpy, emotional, stomach-cramped and frighteningly alert. I simply sobbed and shakingly wiped my tears as they fell.
The next flight they could get me was five hours later. Five hours.....which meant that I would arrive in Jacksonville at 10:30p.m. Abby is in Tallahassee, and that's a 3-hour drive....are you doing the math? Right. Thankfully, Abby and Eric put me in a hotel--a really nice hotel--for that night.
So--moving on. After a lone night's rest (severely underrated), I returned to the airport to greet Abby and her four beauties. It was exciting and exhausting. We got home to St.George at 2:00a.m. on Thursday early morning/Wednesday late night.
The next day was spent recovering; Abby somehow let me have a 3-hour nap to combat the migraine that was the result of my 2:30a.m.-7a.m. sleep. I had planned to do a short run that night (Thursday), but was convinced by Phill and Abby to rest some more. I rested that day, and I rested on Friday, at least as much as you can with seven children (under 8) in the house!
The only thing I forgot to do was drink water. That's all.
So Saturday morning I was actually excited for my 10-mile run! I had been flying/resting for a week, and I was ready to run. Never mind the fact that I had a wedding to shoot at 9:00 that morning; I was sure I would be done with enough time left to get ready and get out the door.
My run was glorious. I had put out water stops, but only felt the need to drink about one-third of each bottle I had set out. (And here we can see the delirium starting...) I felt sleepy, but able. I finished with only 15 minutes to spare before I had to get in the car and go to the wedding. Abby (who is an angel in human form) made me breakfast so that I came home, bolted down a bowl of oatmeal, two poached eggs, and 2 chocolate milks (wait, no water? that's right....no water). Then I jumped in the shower (pretty literally), got dressed, and went out the door.
The wedding was beautiful; only 3 hours of shooting, actually. The groom begged me to eat, which I did....somewhat meager portions, and (you guessed it) no water.
I came home and threw myself into being present with the kids. I felt some guilt for not being there from 6-12, and wanted to let Abby rest if she wanted. How I forget to re-hydrate, I just don't know.
At around 11:30, I was ready to go to sleep. I laid down and noted that I was awfully tired. Phill said something, and I looked up at him. There were blue flashing lights in my eyes--sort of like when you look at a light directly, and then look away.
"What's wrong?" Phill said, with far more anxiety than I had ever heard in his voice.
Then the picture in my eyes was jumping. "I don't know. I don't know. I don't know." I said.
I thought to myself, "Maybe if I change position, this will go away." I rolled over, and--
that is the limit of my memory. Phill says that immediately every muscle in my body locked up, my jaw opened as wide as possible, and I began to shake. He yelled for Abby to call 911, and moved me so that I would not choke on my vomit. (I know, I know, gross.)
When I came to, there were several people in my room asking me questions I couldn't answer, such as, "What did you do today? Where are you? What is your last name?" Apparently, I asked Phill what color he was "White, sweetheart.", and asked several times what was going on, without retaining the answer. I do remember once asking, "What happened?" And Phill leaning over me with a shaky smile and wet eyes, saying, "You had two seizures, sweetheart." I don't remember being moved from my bed, but I do remember how it felt being moved from the house to the outside--the air inside was a little too cool, and artificial; the air outside was balmy and close. I don't remember the majority of the ride to the hospital, but I do remember the paramedic next to me on the way--he looked like Santa Clause, and he was very soothing. I remember two priesthood holders in the doorway of my hospital room, the scent of one of the paramedic's perfume, and Phill's hand on my arm. I don't remember my body taking two bags of saline (that's 3 liters, folks) in less than an hour, coming home at 4a.m., or anything until later the evening of Sunday. (I was given anti-anxiety medication; apparently that's how they treat seizures....I slept and slept and slept. )
I do remember the feel of Phill's basketball shorts under my hands as I lay in the hospital. I sleep in undergarments; Phill had hastily dressed me before the emergency people had arrived.
I am still sheepish, but recovered completely. I am still a bit traumatized by the fact that I forgot so completely to pay attention to basic self-care that my body had to give me an unforgettable reminder. I am a little afraid of myself; carefully keeping count of how much water I am getting, how much I am eating, how much I am sleeping. Last night I went to bed at 9:30. The few nights before that, it was 10:00. Considering that my "normal" bedtime is 12, and that my sister is visiting, this is rather unusual. I still feel shaky remembering all of this, but I also know that things could have been much, much worse. I have also had the great blessing of having dinner brought to me by ward members Sunday night, Monday night, Tuesday night, and Wednesday night.
Are you wondering, yet, where this gargantuan story is leading? There is an end in sight.
Today, Phill called me around lunchtime.
"I bought you something."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Something that will make you feel less nervous on your runs."
"Oh?"
"Yeah."
He came home with a Camelbak. It holds 2.5 liters. Which means that I will be hydrated while I run, and I will not have to set out waters the night before.....and I will not be seized by dehydration.
"Phill, this is one of the most romantic things you have ever done for me."
"Really?"
"Yes. Right up there with the time you bought me a terabyte for my photos. And the Carbonite gift, too."
"Really?"
"Really."
You may think my love language is Receiving Gifts. But I beg to differ, and actually, I would suggest a new love language--Back-up. Whether it is back-up for my photos or for my health, or back-up in the form of making sure I am modest among strangers, this is the most far-reaching and effective way that Phill shows me how much he loves me. That is the romance I like.
Guess what?
That was too late.
"Oh, this is the Vegas airport, honey. We like you to be 90 minutes early."
WHAT?! OH....so I should have woken up at 3:00a.m.? My bad. (I'm sorry; some of the bitterness hasn't receded yet.)
I had a meltdown. It was ugly. Having gulped down some caffeine that early morning to be energetic for the drive, I was....energetic. I was jittery, jumpy, emotional, stomach-cramped and frighteningly alert. I simply sobbed and shakingly wiped my tears as they fell.
The next flight they could get me was five hours later. Five hours.....which meant that I would arrive in Jacksonville at 10:30p.m. Abby is in Tallahassee, and that's a 3-hour drive....are you doing the math? Right. Thankfully, Abby and Eric put me in a hotel--a really nice hotel--for that night.
So--moving on. After a lone night's rest (severely underrated), I returned to the airport to greet Abby and her four beauties. It was exciting and exhausting. We got home to St.George at 2:00a.m. on Thursday early morning/Wednesday late night.
The next day was spent recovering; Abby somehow let me have a 3-hour nap to combat the migraine that was the result of my 2:30a.m.-7a.m. sleep. I had planned to do a short run that night (Thursday), but was convinced by Phill and Abby to rest some more. I rested that day, and I rested on Friday, at least as much as you can with seven children (under 8) in the house!
The only thing I forgot to do was drink water. That's all.
So Saturday morning I was actually excited for my 10-mile run! I had been flying/resting for a week, and I was ready to run. Never mind the fact that I had a wedding to shoot at 9:00 that morning; I was sure I would be done with enough time left to get ready and get out the door.
My run was glorious. I had put out water stops, but only felt the need to drink about one-third of each bottle I had set out. (And here we can see the delirium starting...) I felt sleepy, but able. I finished with only 15 minutes to spare before I had to get in the car and go to the wedding. Abby (who is an angel in human form) made me breakfast so that I came home, bolted down a bowl of oatmeal, two poached eggs, and 2 chocolate milks (wait, no water? that's right....no water). Then I jumped in the shower (pretty literally), got dressed, and went out the door.
The wedding was beautiful; only 3 hours of shooting, actually. The groom begged me to eat, which I did....somewhat meager portions, and (you guessed it) no water.
I came home and threw myself into being present with the kids. I felt some guilt for not being there from 6-12, and wanted to let Abby rest if she wanted. How I forget to re-hydrate, I just don't know.
At around 11:30, I was ready to go to sleep. I laid down and noted that I was awfully tired. Phill said something, and I looked up at him. There were blue flashing lights in my eyes--sort of like when you look at a light directly, and then look away.
"What's wrong?" Phill said, with far more anxiety than I had ever heard in his voice.
Then the picture in my eyes was jumping. "I don't know. I don't know. I don't know." I said.
I thought to myself, "Maybe if I change position, this will go away." I rolled over, and--
that is the limit of my memory. Phill says that immediately every muscle in my body locked up, my jaw opened as wide as possible, and I began to shake. He yelled for Abby to call 911, and moved me so that I would not choke on my vomit. (I know, I know, gross.)
When I came to, there were several people in my room asking me questions I couldn't answer, such as, "What did you do today? Where are you? What is your last name?" Apparently, I asked Phill what color he was "White, sweetheart.", and asked several times what was going on, without retaining the answer. I do remember once asking, "What happened?" And Phill leaning over me with a shaky smile and wet eyes, saying, "You had two seizures, sweetheart." I don't remember being moved from my bed, but I do remember how it felt being moved from the house to the outside--the air inside was a little too cool, and artificial; the air outside was balmy and close. I don't remember the majority of the ride to the hospital, but I do remember the paramedic next to me on the way--he looked like Santa Clause, and he was very soothing. I remember two priesthood holders in the doorway of my hospital room, the scent of one of the paramedic's perfume, and Phill's hand on my arm. I don't remember my body taking two bags of saline (that's 3 liters, folks) in less than an hour, coming home at 4a.m., or anything until later the evening of Sunday. (I was given anti-anxiety medication; apparently that's how they treat seizures....I slept and slept and slept. )
I do remember the feel of Phill's basketball shorts under my hands as I lay in the hospital. I sleep in undergarments; Phill had hastily dressed me before the emergency people had arrived.
I am still sheepish, but recovered completely. I am still a bit traumatized by the fact that I forgot so completely to pay attention to basic self-care that my body had to give me an unforgettable reminder. I am a little afraid of myself; carefully keeping count of how much water I am getting, how much I am eating, how much I am sleeping. Last night I went to bed at 9:30. The few nights before that, it was 10:00. Considering that my "normal" bedtime is 12, and that my sister is visiting, this is rather unusual. I still feel shaky remembering all of this, but I also know that things could have been much, much worse. I have also had the great blessing of having dinner brought to me by ward members Sunday night, Monday night, Tuesday night, and Wednesday night.
Are you wondering, yet, where this gargantuan story is leading? There is an end in sight.
Today, Phill called me around lunchtime.
"I bought you something."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Something that will make you feel less nervous on your runs."
"Oh?"
"Yeah."
He came home with a Camelbak. It holds 2.5 liters. Which means that I will be hydrated while I run, and I will not have to set out waters the night before.....and I will not be seized by dehydration.
"Phill, this is one of the most romantic things you have ever done for me."
"Really?"
"Yes. Right up there with the time you bought me a terabyte for my photos. And the Carbonite gift, too."
"Really?"
"Really."
You may think my love language is Receiving Gifts. But I beg to differ, and actually, I would suggest a new love language--Back-up. Whether it is back-up for my photos or for my health, or back-up in the form of making sure I am modest among strangers, this is the most far-reaching and effective way that Phill shows me how much he loves me. That is the romance I like.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
You must love me....(again, name that musical)
Aside from the happiness of having Phill home again, he brought back some things from Germany that made me make a face akin to this:
I think he might love me.....look at this loot!
My love language is chocolate.
And there were even several Kinder Eggs for the kids. Of all the things I miss about Germany, chocolate and certain foods (Raja Imbiss is calling my name; those gyros and fries cannot be outdone or replicated....) tend to make me feel most nostalgic. I'm horribly jealous that Phill got to explore Heidelberg without me, amongst other places.
I'm thinking a second honeymoon there would be nice. Epic. Incredible. The adventure of a lifetime.
*sigh*.....oh, man. I'm so glad he's home. Now I don't have to fight back waves of emerald-green jealousy. :)
I think he might love me.....look at this loot!
My love language is chocolate.
And there were even several Kinder Eggs for the kids. Of all the things I miss about Germany, chocolate and certain foods (Raja Imbiss is calling my name; those gyros and fries cannot be outdone or replicated....) tend to make me feel most nostalgic. I'm horribly jealous that Phill got to explore Heidelberg without me, amongst other places.
I'm thinking a second honeymoon there would be nice. Epic. Incredible. The adventure of a lifetime.
*sigh*.....oh, man. I'm so glad he's home. Now I don't have to fight back waves of emerald-green jealousy. :)
Friday, April 24, 2009
Ducky Date
Of all the many talents Phill has, have I ever told you that he has a talent for photography?
Yeah. He's good.
Really good.
Good enough that I'm often jealous, in a fiery happy sort of way. And tonight, he really pulled out all the stops.
Tonight we went on a date and found this secret spot in St.George, a very un-St.George-like spot. A body of water and ducks. And ducklings. They made me squeal and say things in a strangely high-pitched voice.
Oh, heaven help me, those fuzzy little ducklings....
We followed them around, trying with the zoom lens to get close-up pictures--without getting close-up. We must have seemed like paparazzo, because we quite literally ruffled some feathers.
Their parents were very clear in letting us know how displeased they were by our proximity.
They gave us the evil eye.
It's pretty unnerving to get the evil eye from a duck. Especially when they give you the evil eye and come towards you at the same time, making scary duck sounds. Phill was brave. After the ducks came very quickly towards us, spreading their wings and hoarsely quacking and looking at us sideways, I very quickly walked further away saying something like "oh-man-oh-man-oh-man-oh-NO-oh-PHILL-oh-man-oh-man....." Needless to say, I was put in my place. But Phill got closer and took the wind right out of this duck's feathers. We'll call him Merv. I just think he has a Merv face. Look at his mean Merv-y face....
The mother was such a good mama duck. Look at her protective stance. She looks so intensely uncomfortable, I felt a little bad, actually. How dare I invade her personal space? "How dare you invade our personal space?"
They needed to confer about what to do. "Merv, I just can't do this anymore."
"You do something about this, or I am moving across the pond without a backward glance. I'm serious, Merv."
She meant business.
So they moved the ducklings. First the ducklings went away from us, followed by the mama, followed by Merv and....who's the other guy? The brother-in-law? It was a strategized move.
Meanwhile, I'm a chicken. While Phill captured awesome humdingers like the ones above, I took placid photos like these.
Look at them! Three little ducklings.
They craned their necks to watch their mama swim.
And she was sure to stand between them and any danger....i.e., we human paparazzi. I just couldn't come between her and her babies.
Then we drove around and found high points from which to take photos.
And rode off into the sunset.
Best date ever.
Yeah. He's good.
Really good.
Good enough that I'm often jealous, in a fiery happy sort of way. And tonight, he really pulled out all the stops.
Tonight we went on a date and found this secret spot in St.George, a very un-St.George-like spot. A body of water and ducks. And ducklings. They made me squeal and say things in a strangely high-pitched voice.
Oh, heaven help me, those fuzzy little ducklings....
We followed them around, trying with the zoom lens to get close-up pictures--without getting close-up. We must have seemed like paparazzo, because we quite literally ruffled some feathers.
Their parents were very clear in letting us know how displeased they were by our proximity.
They gave us the evil eye.
It's pretty unnerving to get the evil eye from a duck. Especially when they give you the evil eye and come towards you at the same time, making scary duck sounds. Phill was brave. After the ducks came very quickly towards us, spreading their wings and hoarsely quacking and looking at us sideways, I very quickly walked further away saying something like "oh-man-oh-man-oh-man-oh-NO-oh-PHILL-oh-man-oh-man....." Needless to say, I was put in my place. But Phill got closer and took the wind right out of this duck's feathers. We'll call him Merv. I just think he has a Merv face. Look at his mean Merv-y face....
The mother was such a good mama duck. Look at her protective stance. She looks so intensely uncomfortable, I felt a little bad, actually. How dare I invade her personal space? "How dare you invade our personal space?"
They needed to confer about what to do. "Merv, I just can't do this anymore."
"You do something about this, or I am moving across the pond without a backward glance. I'm serious, Merv."
She meant business.
So they moved the ducklings. First the ducklings went away from us, followed by the mama, followed by Merv and....who's the other guy? The brother-in-law? It was a strategized move.
Meanwhile, I'm a chicken. While Phill captured awesome humdingers like the ones above, I took placid photos like these.
Look at them! Three little ducklings.
They craned their necks to watch their mama swim.
And she was sure to stand between them and any danger....i.e., we human paparazzi. I just couldn't come between her and her babies.
Then we drove around and found high points from which to take photos.
And rode off into the sunset.
Best date ever.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
"As you wish......"
(A Valentine's Ode to Phill)
When Phill and I first started dating, we watched The Princess Bride about six times before we did anything terribly original for a date. That was fine with us!
But Phill is quite brilliant and creative--and romantic--when it comes to dates. And surprises. And I happen to love surprises, and I love the anticipation that goes along with a good secret gift. So Phill is good about driving me crazy with wondering before he finally presents the gift--which is always something well-thought-out and personal.
Our first official date, my 18th birthday, was definitely memorable. In the military, you are given orders (kind of an itinerary) for various training exercises or classes or moving or deploying. So he gave my dad orders for our date--complete with these phrases: "Please DO NOT let the innocent child-like charms of Rachel get these plans from you, as it might compromise the rest of the agents I have in the field. Just tell her to be ready to go by 4:00p.m., nothing further...Feel free to tell Rachel that you know the exact plans of today, then tell her nothing, as to frustrate her. (She says you're good at frustrating her, so do your best.) "
Are you smiling as hugely as I am? Well, listen to the actual Agenda: "The date will start at 4:00p.m. when I come to get Rachel. Then rules and guidelines from parents will be received. Next, 4:30, we will depart to our destination (Forsyth Park, Savannah, or alternate location stated by parents). Depending on destination, arrive at 5:45; have a little picnic dinner prepared by Phill DeVault. Not responsible for sickness from food. Also some attempted serenading (stressing attempting). Picnic will last one hour. 7:00p.m. After picnic we will walk along River Street and look at shops and take goofy pictures that will be laughed at, at a later date. This may take up to 2 and 1/2 hours, or not--maybe 45 minutes, who knows? The rest of the remaining time will be spent trying to remember where we parked, and getting home by 11:00p.m. or earlier."
I do have a picture that you can laugh at, but my scanner is being stubborn at the moment.
Anyway....my point is that I love the way Phill treats me. Most of all, I love the way he treats me each day, not just the surprises and dates here and there.
Living with Phill is romance in itself. There is romance to being taken care of, romance in a man who will do dishes and change diapers and cook dinner and tell me to sleep some more when a child wakes in the middle of the night. I think it's romantic that I can tell Phill anything, share anything with him, and expect to be valued and loved in return--every time. There is romance in laughter, romance in respect, and romance in safety.
As you wish, Phill.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Overflowing
I have so so SO much running through my mind right now, I don't know where to start. My grandma died on the 18th, just three days after 58 years of marriage to my grandpa. I am happy that she will feel no more pain; I am resting in the knowledge that she is at peace. I'm grieving, but gently. I'm sad and I miss her, but I have faith and hope that I will see her again. The thing that is hardest for me is thinking of her children and her husband--my grandpa, my aunts and my uncle, my mother--who are left to mourn. Of course I mourn, but I know that my mother's mourning, and the mourning of grandma's other children and husband, is so deep.
I'm still trying to process all that happened last week. Amongst any sadness, there was peace, and there were little reunions happening throughout. (Just the way my grandma would like it, I think. All of us together for Christmas!) I have been thoroughly and tenderly blessed to have seen all my sisters and my brother--my brother I saw four and a half years ago! While in the midst of something that can seem insurmountable, I have been lifted up and nurtured. Phill demonstrated throughout the last week how selfless he is, how protective and how helpful he is. I am blazingly proud to call him my husband. (Seven years yesterday!)
I am grateful, so grateful, to have felt personally the love of a Savior who sees fit to meet my needs through those around me. To Phill, I don't know how to thank you enough for the man you are. To Cara and Jenn, who sent me a sweet and hilarious video to make me laugh away the heaviness. To you blogging friends of mine who frequently email or comment to give support or encouragement, I hope you know how much that means to me. To my neighbors and dear friends Sarah and Merilee, you are angels in human disguise. To my sweet sisters, my tender & wise parents, my gentle cheerful brother--I am honored to be yours. My heart is full to overflowing.
I'm still trying to process all that happened last week. Amongst any sadness, there was peace, and there were little reunions happening throughout. (Just the way my grandma would like it, I think. All of us together for Christmas!) I have been thoroughly and tenderly blessed to have seen all my sisters and my brother--my brother I saw four and a half years ago! While in the midst of something that can seem insurmountable, I have been lifted up and nurtured. Phill demonstrated throughout the last week how selfless he is, how protective and how helpful he is. I am blazingly proud to call him my husband. (Seven years yesterday!)
I am grateful, so grateful, to have felt personally the love of a Savior who sees fit to meet my needs through those around me. To Phill, I don't know how to thank you enough for the man you are. To Cara and Jenn, who sent me a sweet and hilarious video to make me laugh away the heaviness. To you blogging friends of mine who frequently email or comment to give support or encouragement, I hope you know how much that means to me. To my neighbors and dear friends Sarah and Merilee, you are angels in human disguise. To my sweet sisters, my tender & wise parents, my gentle cheerful brother--I am honored to be yours. My heart is full to overflowing.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
What A Mighty Good Man
Today I find myself even more grateful for and in love with Phill. I'm grateful he's home, but today I'm just especially grateful that he's him. :)
At night after the babies are in bed, he sits down on the couch, pats the cushion next to him and says, "Come vedge. [Logical spelling borrowed from Q]" So we sit and watch TV or stare at each other and eat cookies and call to the children (one more time) "Go to sleep!" and talk about whatever is lately on our radar. And if I'm cold he lets me put my freezing cold toes in his big always-warm hands, or if my hands are cold I'm always allowed to tuck them into the front pocket of his sweatshirt.
Last night, before we were vedging, before the babies were in bed pretending to be asleep, he made cookies with the boys.
This morning as I got ready for my run I gasped dramatically and said, "I forgot to charge my iPod!" So I took Phill's, which isn't really the best for running (because his has the touch-screen and it's bigger). I wasn't too disappointed, and my run was fine, but not stellar. I came inside (from the wonderfully bracing cold) and Phill had to leave for work. I sat down at the computer and noticed that he had plugged my iPod in. Something small--but it made me glow with happiness.
And later on this morning, he left work for a while to come home and go with all of us to the book fair at Reed's school. After which we played all together at Reed's park before school started, sending Savvy down the slide with Reed so that her hair stood straight up from all the static and Reed could barely breathe for all the laughing. Phill was in uniform and a little boy said, "Are you a soldier? I saw another soldier once. But he was here after school." :)
That's all. I'm just happy. Those four little things are making my eyes sparkle today. Oh, I love my Phill.
At night after the babies are in bed, he sits down on the couch, pats the cushion next to him and says, "Come vedge. [Logical spelling borrowed from Q]" So we sit and watch TV or stare at each other and eat cookies and call to the children (one more time) "Go to sleep!" and talk about whatever is lately on our radar. And if I'm cold he lets me put my freezing cold toes in his big always-warm hands, or if my hands are cold I'm always allowed to tuck them into the front pocket of his sweatshirt.
Last night, before we were vedging, before the babies were in bed pretending to be asleep, he made cookies with the boys.
This morning as I got ready for my run I gasped dramatically and said, "I forgot to charge my iPod!" So I took Phill's, which isn't really the best for running (because his has the touch-screen and it's bigger). I wasn't too disappointed, and my run was fine, but not stellar. I came inside (from the wonderfully bracing cold) and Phill had to leave for work. I sat down at the computer and noticed that he had plugged my iPod in. Something small--but it made me glow with happiness.
And later on this morning, he left work for a while to come home and go with all of us to the book fair at Reed's school. After which we played all together at Reed's park before school started, sending Savvy down the slide with Reed so that her hair stood straight up from all the static and Reed could barely breathe for all the laughing. Phill was in uniform and a little boy said, "Are you a soldier? I saw another soldier once. But he was here after school." :)
That's all. I'm just happy. Those four little things are making my eyes sparkle today. Oh, I love my Phill.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
home
After dinner he danced around the kitchen with Savvy in her darling polka-dotted sleeper, and sang to her and smiled so big that his crow's feet were highly visible--like I like them to be. (I told him I missed his crow's feet.) When Savvy saw Phill walk through the door, she went immediately to his arms, inspected his face with her hands on his cheeks, a concerned expression on her face, before giving a tiny smile and resting her head on his shoulder.The boys ran to hug him when they saw him, Reed bonding himself with Phill's right leg until he had to walk (eventually).
I went completely jelly-legs the minute he walked in and didn't answer my phone for a long, long time. (Sorry, Abby. I told you I'd be MIA today.)
Right now we are in the living room with the lights off so that the boys can play with their hand-held LED lights Phill bought them, and Savvy is drinking her bottle and holding her ear (sleepy posture), laying on the floor with her head right next to Phill's and her legs draped over his shoulder.
Only three weeks, but it seemed like so much longer!
Home, home, home.
(And then, with her last ounce of strength, she crawled into bed and slept for five days.)
Monday, October 6, 2008
Phill Made the Papes!! :)
Phill has drill the first weekend of the month, every month. (Usually.) One drill of the year for their soldiers has always been to work the St. George Marathon. This basically means they catch people--literally catch people who make it across the finish line and find that they just can't move their legs anymore!
Anyway, this year a couple of the soldiers' pictures made it into The Spectrum! And Phill was one of them!!! It's actually a GREAT photo of him, really shows his true nature.
Go here to see his photo (#68); the other one (with soldiers in it) is #77.
And although we were considering doing the marathon together this year, that's obviously the furthest we got--thinking about it. :) But we've resolved that provided we can register on time, we will do the next one together. Poor Phill, he'll have to go so slow to avoid losing me in the crowds. He did his 2-mile for his P.T. test yesterday in 13:12.
Pfft. Ridiculous.
Anyway, this year a couple of the soldiers' pictures made it into The Spectrum! And Phill was one of them!!! It's actually a GREAT photo of him, really shows his true nature.
Go here to see his photo (#68); the other one (with soldiers in it) is #77.
And although we were considering doing the marathon together this year, that's obviously the furthest we got--thinking about it. :) But we've resolved that provided we can register on time, we will do the next one together. Poor Phill, he'll have to go so slow to avoid losing me in the crowds. He did his 2-mile for his P.T. test yesterday in 13:12.
Pfft. Ridiculous.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Sunday the 11th is Veteran's Day
WELCOME HOME, 172ND MEDICAL LOGISTICS BATALLION BRAVO COMPANY!
Phill is the platoon sergeant for this platoon, and so I was able to accompany him to the airport in St.George yesterday afternoon to welcome these soldiers home. (6 soldiers, I think) He called a lot of media outlets there in St.George to get the word out, and the support was awesome--notice the several Korean War & Vietnam veterans attending, and the Patriot Guard that greeted the soldiers as they exited the airport. It was nice to be welcoming soldiers home--although it was nice, too, that I wasn't welcoming Phill home. :) I don't want to have to do that again. Anyway, it was just a really uplifting time to be at the airport and see all the families and friends greet the people they've missed most for the past year.
Sunday, April 8, 2007
I am immeasurably blessed to have Phill for my husband. I just deleted a huge post that listed individually several things he has done for me lately that have sent me over the moon, but decided that I would just hold those things close and post this instead, saying just what I need to say: That I'm so grateful to have been paired with him (by God, by circumstances, by our own volition, by fate). He treats me in a way that is rare and sweet, and I just felt the need to say how thankful I am to have him.
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