sunny side of life

From about the second I figured out that I was Italian, and had the ability to think, I have wanted to visit Italy.

Now, I’ll admit, that I’m not as Italian as my pride suggests.

My great grandfather came over from Italy when he was 13. Now, while I know that it’s not terribly far-removed from my generation, it’s the marrying-out of the Italian-ness that has me all blonde, blue-eyed,  and whatnot. (Just so you know, I’m fully aware that Northern Italians are in fact blonde and blue-eyed, however, my great-grandfather is from Southern Italy, where the dark-haired, dark-skinned folks are from. Hence, my dilemma.)

Anyway, I’m Italian. And proud. I believe this is what we’ve established so far.

So, I tell you all of that, to tell you this.

My husband is deployed this year. (Newsflash!) He gets leave time, and I’m kind of a demanding wife in that I want to see him when he’s on leave.

So this is what we’ve been able to figure out: It’s freakin’ expensive to fly all the way to where he is, and vice versa. (Not to mention that his current location doesn’t so much inspire happy vacation thoughts in me, this seems to be only me, as most people who know his location think I’m nuts and would LOVE to vacation where he is, but I’m not them, and so I have no interest in it.) So we looked into meeting halfway. And you know what? It’s cheaper for us to meet in Rome, Italy than it is for us to buy a ticket for the other to go all the way to where the other is. Make sense? If not, here’s what I mean in a nutshell……

I’M GOING TO ITALY!!!!!!!

I know, right? I’m totally excited for me, too! It won’t be until LATE in the summer, like say August or so, but who cares? I’ll be able to see my husband! (in Italy!) And spend time with him! (in Italy!) And hang out, and chat, and do….married stuff! (in Italy!) And tour Rome! (in Italy, but that was kind of implied, huh?)

I almost can’t believe it, and probably won’t actually believe it until I land. IN ITALY!

My brother and some of his friends will be accompanying me on this trip for 2 reasons:

1. I hate flying. Instead of totally freaking out a stranger on the plane by digging my nails into his skin and grabbing onto his pants’ legs, I will make sure that it is my brother to whom this torture will belong.

2. He really wants to go to, and so who am I to stop him?

I know what you’re thinking. “You’re brother is going with you to Italy? Where you’ll meet up with your husband after having not seen him for 8 months. Won’t you want some, um, privacy?”

Yes we will. And we will have it.

Y’see, my brother’s, friend’s, parents (did you get that chain of people?) have a time-share, and they’re letting us use it to get TWO rooms (which are separate and apart from one another) and all we have to do is pay the fee (which is like $100-ish) for the week! It’s a steal I tell you, a steal!

So it’s all set. I’m going to Italy.

Oh, and seeing my husband too. Can’t forget that!

Back in highschool, during one of our Youth Group Retreats, one of my peers stood up to do a comedy routine during our free time. Like every other student present, I was prepared to give a pity laugh here and there, because there was no way that he was actually going to be funny.

Well, he wasn’t.

It turns out that he was “performing” the comedy routine of an actual comedian; one he had memorized, after listening to his CD so many times. It was hilarious. I don’t think there was a dry eye in the place, we were all laughing so hard. And crying from laughing. Immediately after he finished, I remember peppering him with questions.

How can I find this CD? Do they still make it? WHO IS THAT GUY?

“Have you ever heard of Brian Regan?” he asked.

“No! Is that who it is?” I replied

“Yup, you should check him out.”

So I did, and then bought the CD right away. I listened to it and laughed some more. I made my family listen to it and they too laughed. We all thought he was so funny. Plus he wasn’t, like, dirty. He rarely uses any profanity and the content is really clean as well. As a family, we were sold. Especially my little brother Ben. He loved him so much, that a couple of years ago, I bought him Brian Regan’s CD for Christmas.

This year, Brian Regan’s tour is bringing him ’round these parts, and for Ben’s birthday (which isn’t actually until June) we’re going to see him live. Tonight.

I am SO excited. So is Ben. I’ll let you know how it goes.

*you won’t actually get this unless you’ve heard his CD, guess you’ll have to buy it and find out!

“It’s sassy!” said SaintRAV

“Fancythis, you really should take a picture and send it to your husband, you look so cute!” said Kim

“It’s the style of the century!” (seriously) said Kathie

“Just adorable.” said Aunt Rita

Well, everyone’s talking about my new haircut in which I hacked (or really, Claire did) yet another inch off of my hair, something I swore I’d never do, even just 2 months ago. So, do you wanna see it? Here you go:

I did it right before McShann’s (”former youth leader”) wedding, which brings me to the long-awaited showing of the dress. You ready?

And of course a shot of the wedding crew (some of them anyway!), Congratulations Mike and Katie!

Their wedding was an absolute blast in which I danced the night away with good friends who didn’t let me sit out on a single song just because my husband wasn’t there to dance with me. (Of course, being that he’s not much of a dancer, it probably would have been that way even if he was here!)

Which brings us to today, which is certainly the most important in my world. Hallelujah! He’s alive. Happy Easter to you all, may you find hope in the resurrection of Christ Jesus, our Lord.

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.  I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful; I know that full well.  

Psalm 139:13-15

Birth is an absolute miracle. There is no greater evidence to me of the fact that God truly exists after watching such a procedure. The fact that our bodies just “naturally” do what they’re supposed to with such precision is unbelievable. God is truly an amazing God.

 Details.

Lemons is such a soldier. She went in to be induced at 9:00-ish pm on Tuesday evening, March 4th, and after one of the Doctors broke her water (by accident) she was thrust into labor whether she wanted to be or not.

Long story short, after a very long, strenous, very tiring 20+ hours in labor and with little progression (which we later found out was due to baby’s position in the womb) they decided to take Lemons in to perform a C-Section, much to her dismay.

All in all, I’m pretty sure that it was worth it once there little 5 lb 15 oz., 20 in. long bouncing baby girl came into this world on Wednesday, March 5th 2008. I know that everyone says that you can’t tell this early, but if Baby isn’t just the spittin’ image of her momma, I don’t know who is! (sorry Tom!) I am so very proud of both of them and cannot wait to see what God has in store for them with this little one.

Without further ado…..

Well, you all know that (best friend) Lemons is preggers with her first ever little bundle.

So we had to throw her a shower!

It was Saturday, February 9th and it was a blast! Here’s the proof……

So, I enjoy shopping.

And I guess this is apparent to people in my life, because my very dear friend Ellen wanted me to take her shopping and make her “fashionable”.

I was worried about this undertaking, not because Ellen is so far off the charts, but because there’s a lot of pressure involved when other people have such high expectations.

But I knew Ellen would be even more fun to shop for than even me because, well, even after 2 children, Ellen is a 4/6. More 4 than 6, but you know how stores are funny. Which is so ridiculously awesome, I don’t even have the words to describe the hope I have for myself now because of her. But that’s a different post.

So anyway, I’m just gonna cut to the chase. I ROCK at shopping for skinny people, I really should be one. I mean, like actually get down to a size 6 instead of the 12 I’m rockin’ right now.

As an aside, just before my wedding I was almost in an 8, but you know, marriage and food kinda got in the way of keeping up with that.

So anyway, this is the outfit we picked out:

With these boots: 

And can I just tell you? I’m good. I mean, she’s got the great body or whatever. But I know how to dress it man!

Oh, and I also convinced her to re-pierce her ears.

Because my persuasion skills are apparently out of this world.

I did get 2 pairs(I actually got a pretty mint-green color that they’re not showing there for some reason, but that’s the style) of shoes (I got those for $9, can you believe it?!) for myself as well.

So I’m now waiting for Britney Spears to request my services, because she needs me desparately to straighten her life out.

At least, her wardrobe life, she’s too far gone in every other area. 

Did I ever tell you, my dear internetly friends, that I’m somewhat of a nanny? I hate to say nanny, because it brings forth images of mean British women with glasses on the ends of their noses who are far too stern with children who aren’t their own for my taste.

But for these purposes, we’ll call me a nanny.

Every Monday and Friday I watch 2 little girls who are sisters,  and quite a trip to say the very least.

M is the oldest and 3 (”…but I’m almost 4 in June, Aunt Fancythis….” I would have just been reminded) going on 16. Seriously. The kid is stinkin’ brilliant, and more often than not, I catch myself in the middle of an argument with her before I realize that she’s three and I’m the boss around here. We but heads more frequently than the little one and I because M and I are the exact same person with a 20 year age gap. I love her though. Even when she rolls her eyes at me as an indicator that I’ve totally just told her something that she already knew and has known for at least a year. Because as much as we but heads there’s nothing that melts my heart quicker than “Aunt Fancythis?” “Yes, hon?” “I love you.”

K is the little one. She’s spunky and sweet and has learned very quickly in her first 2 years that if she wants anything in this life she’s gonna have to be that much smarter and faster than her big sister. (which ain’t no easy task man) However, if it weren’t for the necessity of survival of the fittest in her life, she would be the sweetest little thing you’ve ever met. Her natural tendencies are to lean toward the sweet behavior, but she has to snap out of it every once in a while. She’s the one who, after we prayed before breakfast the other day, reminded me in a fit of panic “Aunt Fancythis!!! We f’got pay foh’ Unk Luke!” (Loosly translated, “We forgot to pray for Uncle Luke!”) I know, right? An angel.

So one of our favorite activities (besides going to the mall and throwing my pennies into the fountain while singing, them, not me, church worship songs) is to play on their play-doh table. We’re sitting there playing today, when for some unknown reason, a Christmas song popped into my head. I started humming it, and then realized that I wouldn’t be facing the judgement that often comes from an adult toward one who sings without talent because I was with kids for pete’s sake.

So I started singing. Out loud.

I should mention that while I’m no Celine Dione, I ain’t too shabby either. I can carry a tune, I’ve just never had the interest to go beyond that and so my voice is, shall we say, untrained.

I then heard M say:

“Aunt Fancythis, can you please stop singing?”

“Why?” (yes, that was my response, she brings it out of me)

“Because,” she said “I don’t like your voice.”

How’s school going?

It’s great! I LOVE it!

I love all (3) of my classes, my professors, and I can’t get enough of each class. When one class is over, I can’t believe it and wait with bated breath for the next one.

Hello, my name is fancythis, and I’m a total dork.

Who knew that college could be this much fun without all of the extra-curricular activities? I seriously love what I’m learning and feel like I’m doing a pretty good job so far. I actually sit in the front of the classroom on purpose.

Please remove all images of nerdy glasses and pocket protectors from your brain right now please. I’m not that bad.

But I do love this. So, why did it take me so long to go?

What? But I thought it was your birthday a month ago.

It was. Well, sort of.

My girlfriends and I always go the The Melting Pot for one another’s birthdays, and, in addition to the actual (tangible) present the birthday girl receives, her dinner at The Melting Pot is also paid for. We rock, right?

So, since my parents decided that Christmastime was such a fabulous time to have a child, we kill 2 birds with one stone on my day and celebrate Christmas too!

(As a side note, my friends do not combine my Christmas and Birthday presents, they rock like that. Unless what they get me for my birthday is so expensive, then I’m sure they would, but it hasn’t happened yet.)

So we were all set and ready to go on December 22nd, when all of a sudden, as I was walking by someone one day who apparently had the plague, my body decided that it wanted to get in on some of that action and therefore knock me off my feet for several days.

I’m not kidding. There was phloem, and stuffy noses, and fevers, oh my! I was a mess, and made Birthday history (with my girlfriends) by being the first girl ever to cancel her own birthday dinner. I know, tragic!

So tonight is make-up night.

I’m actually really excited because I got them both some AWESOME Christmas presents that I have been DYING to give to them for at least a month now and it’s killing me. I will be receiving the award for best present-giver this year as I went a smidge overboard.

I can’t help it, Lemon’s husband (Hi Tom!) has declared that with the birth of their new little baby will come the hacking off of our birthday trips to The Melting Pot. Apparently, kids are expensive or something. And my husband (because sometimes, I’m convinced we married the same person) wholeheartedly agreed.

“You can’t expect this to go on forever.” he once said after the news of The Melting Pot no-more rule. “They’ve got a family now, The Melting Pot is frivolous spending that they are wise to cut out.”

Humbug.

So because of this, I decided to go out with a bang with presents. I’ll be bringing my camera so that I can capture this momentous occasion on film.

Although, there is that tiny glimmer of hope that Tom will forget the rule, and all will be as it once was………..