In 2 and a half-ish days, I will be leaving to go on a missions trip to the Dominican Republic.

I do not like flying (which, they tell me, is the only possible way of getting there).

I do not like bugs (which I hear there is an abundance of).

I do not like being reminded of the fact that we are the most spoiled nation on the face of this planet (which I hear is unavoidable).

I do like challenging myself. And expecting the unexpected. And being totally in the grip of my Lord’s hands (ok, I don’t always enjoy that, it means I’m not in control, but I like it right now). And thinking about someone besides myself, and what struggles I’m going through.

So I guess I’m looking forward to this.

Except for the flying. I hate flying.

5 years ago, this month, I met you. I can vividly remember seeing the back of your head as I walked down the aisle toward the pew you were sitting in. I remember your chin and your eyes, and your smile. You smiled at me. I don’t remember a single thing about the sermon that Sunday, I only remember you.

I remember thinking that I’d never see you again; that your shadow would never again cross the threshold of those church doors. I was wrong.

You came back, and we became acquainted with one another, and I remember being stunned at how quickly I began to fall for you. I kept waiting for something to go wrong, anything that would take you away from me. But on our relationship progressed.

In the 5 years since that first wonderful day, we’ve had to struggle through some dark times and float through happy times. We’ve spent time together and time apart. We got married, lived together and loved one another. They have been 5 wonderful years. 

God made you for me. He picked you out of millions for me, long before I was even conceived. I am yours and you are mine.

I am so thankful for the path that has lead us here. I am so thankful that you didn’t go to college where your parents and siblings before you chose to go. I am so thankful that you chose that Sunday to come to my church. I am so thankful that I was there. I am so thankful for meddling friends.

I am so thankful for you.

5 years isn’t that long, and I hope that there are many more where this 5 came from.

I love you. I miss you. I can’t wait to see your face again.

I know that girlymama already posted about this, but I couldn’t resist. My husband, after all, is the person who took this picture, and while it would be funny if he were here, safe and sound at home with me, he’s not, and so I’m only able to chuckle while on breaks from biting my nails and praying for his (and the other’s) safety. Take a look at this:

I’m sorry. I know, I’ve disappeared off the face of the planet and all 2 of you are devastated. This is what has been happening in my life since the last post:

-The previously mentioned puppy is now 25 pounds. When we got him, he was 15 pounds. At this rate, I believe we’ve got a grizzly bear on our hands instead of a dog.

- Italy is expensive.

-Husband is still deployed. No new news there!

- Italy is expensive.

- I bought the CUTEST dress for DDTM’s (a regular commenter) wedding this Saturday.

and these shoes to go with it:

Which were suggested to me by the very helpful gay manager of the store. Because of this shopping trip, I have come to the conclusion that gay men are the best shopping companions for the following reasons:

                   1. Since they’re gay, they won’t try to dress you all scantily clad - they genuinely want you to look your best

                   2. Women tend to be catty and competitive, therefore they may not want you to look your best.

Either way, he was very helpful in finding a cute clutch and accessories that would go with said dress.

- Italy is expensive.

- Someone at work hates me. Seriously. I came into work on Tuesday and this person had taken the time to turn all of my pictures upside down in their respective frames. Not an easy feat, as I have 5 different picture frames on my desk. Also, this morning I came in and someone had removed the monitor cable from my monitor and put it in our conference room. We’re actually pretty sure we know who that was, but the jury is still out on the picture frame culprit.

- Italy is expensive.

- Some pretty big life-decisions are coming up for husband and I that are contingent upon other things falling into place. Like my sister-in-law, I would like to take a tiny peek into the future.

- Italy is expensive.

-June is a busy month in which I have 2 weddings, 2 gradutation parties, 1 graduation ceremony, Separation Day, (believe it or not, this is practiacally a holiday in Delaware. We celebrate our separation from Pennsylvania. As in, we used to be one state. If you didn’t know this, study your American History again please) and 3 different house-sitting jobs. At least July will be here before I know it.

- Italy is expensive.

- I need about $750 more in order to fund my missions trip to the Dominican Republic which is coming up in July and I’m starting to get nervous. Any takers?

- Italy is expensive.

-I think I need bifocals. My vision gets super-blurry every time I sit in front of the computer, but long-distance is fine (I wear contacts).

- Italy is expensive.

- I may, in the next year and a half, move to Kentucky to live for 5 months. More on that later.

- Italy is expensive. In case you didn’t know. Almost everyone has backed out of this trip, but we’re still going. According to a friend of mine “You and hubby will have spent a year apart, you don’t have kids or a house, spend the flippin’ money to see each other. This is once in a lifetime.” So, we’re listening.

I hope that you feel sufficiently updated. Now, leave me alone.

Meet the newest member of our family:

Deacon Prancer (yes, like the reindeer. yes, we give our dogs middle names. this was the name my mom wanted for our other dog, but she lost that battle, so I made it this little guy’s middle name) Ewald (the breeder’s (who also happens to be a friend of ours. Can you do a parentheses within a parentheses?) last name) Smith.

He’s an eight week old Doberman Pinscher and I just love him to pieces. I got the privilege of picking him up and driving him home yesterday. By myself. Which is an interesting trip when all he wants to do is sit in your lap while your driving your manual vehicle. He loves to cuddle, which is so unlike our other dog, and whenever he gets the opportunity to, he ends up like this:

All snuggled up in your lap.

We spent the better part of the evening getting he and our other dog acquainted, and after they spent a century checking each other out (read: sniffing each other’s hind ends) my other dog gave me this look which said; “So when are we getting rid of him?”. Needless to say, little Deacon is fascinated with Blitzen (our other dog, also like the reindeer. What? He was a Christmas present!) and Blitzen is still trying to figure out why we let this little creature who likes to chew on everything (including hands and toes! And Blitzen’s face!) into our lives so suddenly, just when he was getting old and crotchety enough to enjoy his personal space. Oh well.

I’m sure that Blitzen will be forced to accept Deacon’s presence when Deacon outweighs him by 75 pounds. He’s going to be huge. Deacon is already 15 pounds (compared to Blitzen’s 23) and the breeder told us that he’s bigger than the mother was at that age. The mother grew to be 80-something pounds, so we’re giving Deacon a solid 100. I mean, look at these paws!

Ok, probably not the best example. But you really should see them in comparison to the rest of him. His paws are too big for his whole body. It’s hilarious!

So, that’s our new little baby. Hey we needed something to keep ourselves occupied when my mom stopped having kids! Some people take vacations, we buy new dogs.

Welcome to our home, little buddy.

Since November, I’ve had a webcam for a husband.

I feel bad complaining, because if you think back, even 10-ish years ago, this never would have been a possibility for deployed men and their families.

However, it is now, and so I’m spoiled. No use mincing words around here.

I’ve been able to webcam with my husband once every 1-2 weeks. It’s been nice enough; it certainly isn’t what I actually want or need, but it’ll have to do for now I suppose.

So now, my husband is being sent to another location where he won’t have Internet access. For. Three. Weeks. I’m sure you think I’m just being silly. I have done this before you know. He was gone for almost 7 months during the year before we got married and I was only able to talk to him on the phone a couple of times during that particular training period.

It’s different now, though. He’s not in the country. We’re married this time. (which brings into play a whole new way of becoming closer to one another) I love him more. And on and on the list goes. I’m comfortable with my webcam-husband. It’s the only piece I have left and now they’re taking that away from me!

Oh the humanity!

This is a picture of me with my date at my Senior Prom, 6 years ago this month:

Obviously, this man is not my wonderful husband. I decided to participate in Throwback Thursday (for the first time ever!) because it amazes me how much my life has changed since High School. Just sixyears ago. Y’see, I thought for sure that I was going to marry the man in this picture, but I didn’t. (Much to the apparent chagrin of one Mr. Bitler) And I thought, for kicks and shiggles, that I would do a “Top Ten” list of my own. So, I give you;

The (top, because there are many more than are listed here) Ten Things I learned from my Highschool Prom date (my then boyfriend):

10. Pretty does not mean perfect. (except of course in my case)

9. Women should not pursue men. It’s their job, and they’ve also been cursed with the desire to let the woman have her “reign” over them, and so if you do the pursuing, you’re also giving them a good reason to let you do all of the courting and wooing too. Which leads me to….

8. If you pay for his meals, not only does he not owe you that money, but why should he pay for yours if you’re so willing to fork over the cash?

7. Your significant other should want to be around you all of the time.

6. 2nd chances should be just that. Second chances, not 3rd or 4th or 5th……

5. No man’s feet deserve to be graveled at. NONE. (I’m speaking figuratively here, please do not think that I actually graveled at his feet)

4. If he says he’s not sure about you/his feelings for you/your relationship…..GET OUT. He knows you’re week and will settle for 2nd best, so he has no reason to give 100% of himself to you. He will be looking out for someone better than you.

3. There is no one better than you. It’s a shame that he doesn’t see it, but that’s his loss; don’t spend your whole life trying to make him realize that you are the best. He should be opening your door and buying you flowers and such. Unfortunately, he’ll only get it after it’s too late.

2. If NONE of your friends/family think he’s right for you, THEY’RE RIGHT!

And the number ONE thing that I learned from my Highschool Prom date is….

1. I cannot change people, only God can. No matter how much sweeter I wanted him to be, or more committed, or more romantic, or more whatever…….he wasn’t. And I spent far too much of my time agonizing over it. Wasted time. Time I could have spent perfecting my relationship with God, preparing myself for the man who he really wanted me to spend my life with.

I’m sure to some of you I sound bitter, or angry, but I can assure you that those feelings are only toward myself, for allowing it to happen. We were young (remember? highschool) but I had an adult mentality with relationships and wanted far more from him (emotionally) than he was ready to give.

I’m not making excuses for him, it’s true. I think of adult men who act that way much differently; they need to grow up. We were just kids and I thank God every day that he was in my life for 2 reasons.

-As a friend, he was awesome and we really did have some good times together.

-I have an appreciation for my Husbandthat I don’t think I would have otherwise. My husbandeven gets the little things right; He opens doors, surprises me with cards and flowers, and treats me like the lady (or princess, as these terms are interchangable) that I am. I love him so much, and in looking back, don’t think that I would have changed the course of things even if I could.

Today, for the first time since his birth, a month ago, I met my nephew Colin. (I do believe that he is the. cutest. little. baby. boy. EVER. No bias here, of course.) It was a good time spent with my Brother and Sister-in-law and my nieces too. I was able to chat with them about what’s been happening since I saw them last (I think it was February, sheesh! I’m not winning any sister-in-law of the year awards over here!) and I really felt, well, home with them.

I specify my feelings on being with them for this reason; I haven’t felt like that in a while. It was comfortable, warm. And I didn’t understand why I suddenly felt this way until I left:

It reminded me of my husband.

At first glance, you don’t really see much of a resemblance between my husband and his brother. Husband is 6′5″ with fair skin and red hair. And he’s a little bigger-boned than his brother, who is 6′0″ with brownish-blackish hair and olive-y skin. (they came from the same set of parents, can you believe it?) But upon closer inspection, you really start to notice the similarities. Alot of their features are the same. And some of their mannerisms. It’s kind of like an over-all, general resemblance. So it’s hard not to think of my husband when I’m around his brother. Especially when my husband isn’t around and hasn’t been for some 5 1/2 months now. It doesn’t help that I’m not usually over their house without my husband. So that drudges up all kinds of emotion too.

It really hit me hard after I left though. I felt like I was leaving Luke all over again. It was almost like he was there, in that house, and I wasn’t allowed to stay. (As an aside, it wasn’t like they kicked me out, I mean I’m sure they would have loved to, I didn’t leave until 10:30 and they have three children. I chose to leave so they could get some semblance of somthing resembling sleep) I actually cried on the way home. Because I felt like I finally had a piece of my husband back and then I had to give it back.

What my sister-in-law said tonight is so true:

“It’s harder for the person left behind. They’re the one who has to still be around everything that reminds them of their spouse. Like, Oh I remember when we went there….”

It’s just so true. And it’s what makes this hurt so bad.

-that your roots didn’t just sneak-attack you out of the middle of nowhere? Seriously. It’s like, one day all will be right with the world (hair-wise) and then the next day it’s like Whoa! You mean I’m not a natural white-blonde?

-that you could actually shop from the Pottery Barn catalog? I don’t mean like “Yes! My tax-refund check came! Let’s get that lamp I saw….” I mean like, “I’d like page 72, 90, and 145, please. Everything on those pages.”

-that bathrooms cleaned themselves. Like so you could just wake up tomorrow morning and go have breakfast at Cracker Barrel with Lemons without having to do that first.

-while we’re on the topic of bathrooms, how about wishing that the men in your life could actually aim with their “aiming devices”? Seriously guys, point and shoot, it’s not that difficult. In fact, you’re all pretty successful playing Playstation with that method. Or paintball. Or you know, in a real gun-fight.

-that my husband wasn’t so far away and I actually had a husband and not a web-cam? Sorry, I had to throw that in there.

-that life was full of weekends?