Dear Michael, Thank You

Good morning and happy Saturday.
I didn't do this yesterday, so I'm going to go ahead and do my Five Minute Friday post now.

This week the word is THANK YOU.

GO.

Dear Michael,
Thank you for loving me like no other.
Thank you for loving me in the middle of the night, when I whimper in a bad dream.
Thank you for loving me first thing in the morning when I'm clanging dishes around and begging the coffee maker to brew a little faster.

Thank you for loving me when I cry through getting you dressed because my back hurts, or my heart hurts, or I secretly just don't want to do it again.
Thank you for stopping me and squeezing me and kissing me, and rubbing the stress out of my back, neck, hips, and forehead.
Thank you for staying out of my kitchen.
Thank you for knowing me, really knowing me with all of my flaws of selfishness, impatience, and jealousy, and loving me anyway.
Thank you for showing me how to grow.
Thank you for folding laundry, and putting stuff away, and taking the dogs out one more time.

Thank you for getting me that blanket.
Thank you for taking a chance and falling in love with some crazy girl you met online, and sending her flowers.
Thank you for that night at the WWII Memorial.
Thank you for saying "I will" on the beach that day.
Thank you for holding me when it got so hard my hair was falling out and my weight was falling off, and I had that nervous breakdown.

Thank you for loving me when I gained all that weight, and more, back, and not even saying anything about it.
Thank you for bedtime prayers.
Thank you for this love.
This love that I don't deserve, I shouldn't ever doubt but do, and for being my biggest fan and supporter as my crazy dreams have come true.
Thank you for the way you love others.

Thank you for helping me as I have anxiety about what's next.
There are days I don't know if what I want will ever be.
But I know whatever it is, it will be with you.
Thank you for that.

STOP.
(note: I wrote this in five minutes, but full disclosure, I added photos after that, not in the 5 minute time)

Why Don't You Stay?

I'm at Panera right now, choking down a cinnamon crunch bagel with Hazelnut coffee. Oh, how I have come to love this time when Michael is getting up with the help of his aide, and I am free to do this.  I can't believe I resisted it for so long.

I missed Five Minute Friday last week. The prompt last week was "quiet" and I was, well, quiet!

This week it's: STAY.

GO.
I counted down the days to the Election like I counted down the days to my wedding.
I could tell you when there were 52, 47, 30, 14 and 3.
I was so eager to get my life back.
But at the same time, I was also grateful for the incredible opportunity of traveling our great nation, seeing Presidential candidates up close and personal, and working with a great team of people to inform our viewers about these candidates, their policies, and what was going on in the political world.
By the end - I was done. Exhausted. Tired of even my favorite people. I focused on that countdown to "after the election," what was next - whatever that was.

I had big plans for this time. Reconnect with friends, magic erase my walls, go to the gym, doctor, dentist, get the oil changed in our vehicles, go back to church, spend more time here on the blog, writing, and connecting with all of you. The truth is, for the last week since the election, I've felt numb. Blank.

Maybe I am just so tired that it's going to take time for that after-the-election productive juice to kick in.
But, I've been getting up early, going to work, taking care of the house and my husband, and in a lot of ways it doesn't feel like anything has slowed down.

It has stayed the same.

A major part of my anticipation was looking forward to how my life would change after the election. In big ways. I can't share details with you yet. I'm not pregnant, don't go starting to wonder that.

But I do know that I am blessed and highly favored.
I don't know what's next.

For now, I will stay right here, and embrace the now and all that it has to offer. I have to be really intentional about that, or I will live in the middle of dreams and plans for the future, and I'll miss the now.

I'm thankful I'm married to Mr. Smell-the-Roses. I zoom by roses so fast, I don't even see them. I think I'll stay.

STOP.

Five Minute Friday: Roots

Who knows if it will stick, but I've been wanting to try this whole "Five Minute Friday" thing for a while. Basically, it's a weekly writing exercise, started by Lisa-Jo Baker (a.k.a. Gypsy Mama) where you set a timer for five minutes, and just write. She gives you the topic. You don't worry about grammar or backspacing, you just write. For five minutes. I didn't think I was interested in this linky kind of thing until I was at Allume last weekend, and I saw all of the FMF girls hanging out and I was kind of like, "Hey! I want in!"

So, here I am.

Today's topic is ROOTS.
Two things come to mind when I hear the word "roots."

For your viewing pleasure, I give you one of the last pictures of my natural hair color. May it rest in peace. Oh, side note: My dad was rocking the moustache ombre way before ombres were cool, or even called ombres.

1. My hair.
I know, who is so shallow that they don't think of their ancestors first, but rather their hair color, right? Um, that would be me. I feel like my roots are almost always out of control. Welcome to the highlighting club I've been a part of ever since that Summer vacation in Nags Head when my mother convinced my 14 year old self to start lightening my hair. She was right. But here I am almost 20 years later, with chronic dark roots. A couple of weeks ago, I attempted to lowlight it, and the roots seemed not-so-bad, but I think they've faded and I'm rooted once again. Oh well. I'm too cheap and I don't want to invest the time in sitting in a salon for hours every couple of months, so I deal with my roots. One box at a time.

2. My family.
I don't know a whole lot about my family's roots. I know there is information out there, my Granny's sister spent a great deal of time researching that part of the family's roots, I need to get some of that information. And on my dad's side - someone is related to John Adams. I actually got a scholarship for that in college. That has to be one of the coolest things to tell people, aside from the fact that my dad's name is Charlie Brown, and my brother's name is Chris Brown and no my dad's not a cartoon and while my brother is an awesome dancer, he most definitely does not beat his girlfriend. I thought of one cool "roots" thing the other night, and I was telling my husband about it. I went to the same high school as my mom. Indian River High School, in Chesapeake, VA. In the school, there are these giant class pictures, just as you walk in the front door, up on the wall, high. I remember when I was a freshman, I loved looking at the Class of 1975 picture and finding my mom's big smile. I've been back since I graduated and seen myself up there, too. Class of 1997. Big smile. Brown hair.  My senior picture was taken at an unfortunate time as it relates to a box of hair coloring. It was dark in that picture, and I still regret it to this day.  But still, pretty cool to have two generations with the same smile hanging on the wall there at The River.