I have a new big girl bed

I have a new big girl bed. Thanks to my fabulous in-laws who decided to change up their guest bedroom, we got this gorgeous thing as a hand-me-down. Swoon.

Mr. Right asked me what I thought, as I was lying in bed, feeling totally spoiled by a headboard AND a footboard. I told him I feel like a princess.

"And you know what?" he asked me. "There's no duct tape."

Ahh, yes. That's how I know I've made it to the big time. I have a bed with a headboard, a footboard, and NO duct tape. Very unlike the bed I used for the past nine years... a hand-me-down from a sweet neighbor's son (circa 1982) with a headboard that just leaned against the wall and a bed frame held together with half a roll of duct tape. And no footboard.

In case you're wondering, duct tape could probably hold an 18-wheeler to a high rise. It held me for nine years, including a few times when I may or may not have jumped and/or danced on my bed (don't judge).

Now I just need to figure out what to hang over our bed - I used to have two hand-carved boards from Pottery Barn that I somehow, in a fit of stubbornness, hung myself - wall anchors and all - even though they weigh about 50 pounds each. There are about 100 holes hiding behind those two hangings, so either Mr. Right is going to have to patch them, or we're going to have to find something gigantic to cover the holes. I may have to give my interior designer sister a call for a consult. I'm hoping she'll trade some tips for free babysitting... she's going to need it come this summer when my nephew arrives. (enter squeals of excitement here)

Oh, and I should probably take the bedskirt we got as a wedding gift out of the package, now that I have my big girl bed. I've been meaning to do it for the past 13 months, but it requires ironing. And I hate ironing. But now I'm inspired.

As for curtains on that poor, naked window (there's actually about four naked windows)... that will have to wait awhile longer. I'll be too busy looking at my big girl bed to even notice them.

More hodge podging

So much to write about, but not sure where to start...

First off - I have lost a little bit of weight! Praise Jesus! I'm down five whole pounds from my peak last fall, and last week I wore a skirt I haven't been able to fit into for much too long. Of course, I had to wear it a bit higher on my waist that normal, but it zipped, and it didn't look obscenely tight on my hiney, so I'm calling it a win. This morning I hit a number I haven't seen since last spring. What a wonderful feeling. It only took eight weeks of half marathon training to finally see a difference. Maybe now that the ball is rolling, the rest will melt off. Right? A girl can dream...

Speaking of half marathon training... we've hit that point where we do long runs on the weekends. As in, I have to run eight miles on Saturday. Nine miles next Saturday (but that's about 900 calories). Gulp. It's totally doable, I just listen to books on tape and try to distract myself from the monotony. We run five miles, twice a week, on weeknights. That takes me a full episode of the Kardashians AND E-News with Ryan Seacrest. I know way more celebrity gossip than I ever thought possible because it's the only thing showing at the gym, and it keeps me from losing my mind from boredom on that treadmill. Oh how I wish for the day I can get Hulu on my iPhone and catch up on all my favorite tv shows... maybe then I can do a marathon. Maybe.

Mr. Right and I became ESL certified this weekend. We've done our training a bit out of order, accidentally taking an advanced two-day course last summer, leaving us utterly confused. But now we finally know the basics of lesson planning, choosing curriculum, how to structure our class. And I realized that everything I did last semester was completely wrong. My bad. Through God's grace my students learned English anyway, and loved coming to class, and they still learned about Jesus, so I'm calling that a win (like my too-high skirt that finally fit).

Speaking of ESL, I've been praying a lot about our new semester, which launches in a few short weeks. I desperately miss my students, and I'm feeling a huge burden for internationals right now. Like, my heart aches to help them. We had our dear friend Timothy from Nigeria spend the night at our place Saturday night (he lives in the seminary dorm, so we try to have him over occasionally to give him a change of scenery and a home cooked meal). He has turned into a wonderful friend, and I have learned some wonderful things about his home country. Someday I'll have to share some of the misconceptions he says he had about Americans. It's fun because we have some of the same misconceptions about Africans. If you're a praying person, please pray for his country, which is suffering from some major violence toward Christians right now.

Oh, and speaking of internationals... Mr. Right is going on a last minute international mission trip in February. For TWELVE DAYS. I was home alone for just two nights in December while he visited a friend in Oklahoma, and the house was a wreck, the dishes were dirty, and I was wearing his old t-shirts around the house as I moved from craft project to craft project. So please start praying now for both of us as we're apart for such an extended period of time. I do so love his company. But I'm also wildly excited for this opportunity for him. All of my girlfriends can expect dinner invitations during those two weeks, and it'll be a great opportunity to finish a few quilts (and start one for my nephew). And read a book or two.

I should start a list...

Weekend Hodge Podge

It's a boy!

No, it's not our boy, much to the surprise of a few friends whom misunderstood my seemingly innocent Facebook post. It's my sister's boy... and he's making his debut in just a few months!

My super cute sister and her husband hosted a gender reveal party at their house Friday night, and both sides of the family held their breath as we watched the parents-to-be cut into the cake. To our excitement, we got a blue cake (and blue mouths after eating the blue cake), and soon I'll have my very first nephew. I can't wait to start shopping!

Then again, we've already done a little shopping - Mr. Right and I found this moose rocker at an antique sidewalk sale last summer, and since my interior designer sister has an affinity for moose decor, I just had to get it. Even though there wasn't even a baby yet. I knew he'd be here someday.

The next morning, Mr. Right and I drug ourselves out of bed to run six miles... ahh, the half marathon training. This was the first time since our training started December 5 that my run actually felt good. Thank goodness. Now if only all of those runs would translate to a few lost pounds... but alas, I've lost a grand total of two pounds after 61 miles of running. Life is so unfair sometimes.

After our run we raced home, sopped up our sweat and changed into nicer clothes so we could jet off to a late morning wedding. It was one of my favorites ever - he's from Syria, she's from Dallas, and they both love Jesus like crazy. The ceremony was done in both arabic and English, and maybe it's because we've got arabic-speaking students in our ESL program, or maybe because I'm a huge softy at weddings - but I loved every minute of it. Plus I got to hold a baby at the reception.

After the wedding I went home for a much-needed nap while Mr. Right went to work for a little while, and then we got gussied up again (confession - I wore the same dress again... because it's new and because I love it - you'll see it at another wedding later this month as well) and drove to Carrollton to eat at a hole-in-the-wall Colombian restaurant.

I wore my new boots. I haven't posted these yet, so here they are - as you can see, I went with a very understated style. Actually, I went as loud as I could go... because after all, these are boots that will never see dirt... or a stirrup... so I might as well go loud and fancy.

If you live in DFW, I highly recommend Casa Vieja. We were destined to love it, since we fell in love with Colombian food (and their people) during our trip there in 2010. Fried plantains, arepas, lot's and lot's of beef, and fruit juices served up like smoothies. I had lulo juice - a fruit only grown in Colombia - the juice was pea green but tasted amazing. Kind of like a mixture of grapefruit and kiwi...

Lulo

I'm so adventurous. But my adventure has its limits... like when you start ordering blood sausage or fried pork skin. Nope, my adventure usually ends with exotic fruits and big jewelry.

Happy Anniversary... for real this time

We've been celebrating for a week, but today, January 8, is our REAL anniversary. So of course I'm feeling extra mushy, going back and rereading Facebook messages from our wedding day, and thinking back to all of the things I was feeling, all the special people who were around us, and how I had no idea just how much I could love my husband.

This is the video we played at our rehearsal dinner... which makes me weepy and warm and fuzzy.

And this is what Mr. Right surprised me with this afternoon... he practically chased down a Girl Scout to snag me my absolute favorite cookies (I have a habit of hoarding them in my freezer and rationing them so they'll last me until the following year). In fact, since he had to work most of today (which is why we've extended our celebration to a full week - a trade I will happily make), I will admit that I may or may not have spent my afternoon lying in bed, reading my book and munching on cookies (only two) with my electric blanket on full throttle, thus probably cooking my innards but keeping my toes toasty and warm.

And, he bought me dozens and dozens of roses.

I'm a sucker for flowers.

Happy anniversary to my wonderful husband and best friend.

Crushed under the weight of my own expectations

I was doing some heavy thinking on the treadmill yesterday... what else is a girl to do while she sweats out four very ugly miles as part of her half marathon training?

And what was I thinking, anyway, training for this half marathon? It has been an ugly few weeks... I have a dozen excuses of why I'm not very stallion-esque while I run, but none really matter... I'm still training through the ugliness. Even yesterday's ugliness when I happened to forget my deodorant (gasp). I feel sorry for the person running next to me. (Let's be honest... my nose has been stuffy for two months, so I was blissfully unaware of how much I really embarrassed myself.)

But back to the treadmill... I was mulling some deep thoughts as I sweated to Beyonce. I read a blog yesterday about ways to increase the amount of walking I do. Which is a great idea. You know the drill... park at the back of a parking lot, take the stairs, yadda, yadda, yadda...

And this is how my stream of consciousness progressed:

I should walk more. Heck, I'm trying to drop a few pounds, this sounds like an easy way to facilitate that.


But then I'd have to wear flats every day. And even my best work flats aren't really made for a lot of walking. So I'd have to buy new shoes.


But I'm supposed to dress for the job I want... It's proven science (at least, I saw it in a magazine once) that the most professionally intimidating women wear stilettos. And since I have a fairly public job, I need to be a put-together professional fashionista.


But if I walk long distances in heels, I'll mess up my feet. I don't need a bunion. Those surgeries hurt.

And then I thought about other contradicting expectations I put on myself:

I want to be a domestic goddess. I should be a fabulous cook. And baker. Good women know how to bake pies.


But I shouldn't really eat those sorts of calorie-ridden foods. I need to be eating lean. Basic. The last thing I need to be eating is pie. 


But a domestic goddess doesn't just make grilled chicken and steamed veggies for dessert. She needs to wrap that chicken in cream cheese and bread dough and bake it in the oven. And I should saute those veggies in some sort of wonderful Italian olive oil.


As a domestic goddess, I should have a clean house. I should put myself on a cleaning schedule, and have sparkling floor and dustless blinds. On all 20 of my 10-foot-tall windows.


But I work long hours. So if I spend much time cleaning, I won't have time to work out.


Maybe I should work out before work. Oh wait, if I do that, I won't get my quiet time in. I could try to do both, but then I would have to wear a pony tail to work. And then I won't look fashionably intimidating. How can I juggle a quiet time, getting ready for work, cleaning my house, working out, and cooking healthy?

And suddenly I'm drowning beneath the weight of my own expectations.

The other night, as Mr. Right and I prayed together before bed...

Side note - a pastor at our church told us that the divorce rate for couples who pray daily together is 1%... and since divorce is not an option and we want to set ourselves up for success, we've adopted a nightly prayer time, just the two of us, before we go to bed... and I absolutely love it.

As I was saying... the other night, as Mr. Right and I prayed together before bed, he prayed the sweetest prayer over me. He prayed that the Lord would reveal what His expectations are for my life, and that He would save me from being crushed by my own self-expectations.

I never thought of it that way. I do tend to be my own worst enemy when it comes to holding myself to an impossible standard.

And I didn't realize that Mr. Right had noticed.

What a sweet prayer for a girl who wants to be a Martha Stewart homemaker with a Jessica Biel body and a Condoleeza Rice brain. Marriage, in the midst of all the fun, surely is a sanctifying experience.

Happy Anniversary to me (and Mr. Right)

Last weekend we celebrated our one-year wedding anniversary - it was a week early, but this coming weekend we have a gender reveal party for my sister's first baby, and we just couldn't bear to miss it. So we bumped it up a week and had ourselves a glorious time.

We spent Sunday night at the Omni, the same hotel we stayed in on our wedding night. In typical fashion, Mr. Right sweet-talked the hotel into upgrading us to a suite, complete with two bathrooms, a huge living room and a gorgeous view of Fort Worth.

We got gussied up and treated ourselves to a  fancy dinner at Texas de Brazil (we even snagged a coupon that let us save a little cash). Other than that, we did absolutely nothing. We mostly reminisced about our first year of marriage - it was such a challenging one, but filled with such sweet moments (and so many laugh out loud, pee in my pants funny memories) that we relived again together. In typical Bethe fashion I cried through most of our reminiscing, because (a) I'm a girl and (b) I tend to get overwhelmed with gratitude when I think back to all the miracles God worked in our life over the past year - the dozens of answered prayers, the moments of celebration, the tender moments between just the two of us... and the other times when I felt extreme sadness, and yet my sweet husband was there to walk alongside me.

And then there was breakfast. Is there any greater luxury than ordering room service in a hotel? We ordered room service for breakfast, and I got to enjoy a giant stack of pancakes without having to change out of my pajamas. It made me feel like a princess (it doesn't take much, does it?). Then we climbed back in bed and spent the whole morning watching movies. It was peaceful and relaxing and I loved every minute of it.

We spent the afternoon shopping and eating lunch at our favorite Fort Worth spot (Zoe's), and I snagged the cutest red ruffled dress at a local boutique. And then we drove home, took another long nap, and spent the evening watching more movies.

It was the perfect end to a great Christmas vacation, and I feel recharged and ready to face the world.

To those of you who prayed for us this year, I want to say a whole-hearted THANK YOU. Trust me when I say that Mr. Right and I logged many, many hours on our knees in 2011. Please don't stop on year two!