Can't Wait

With a huge grin on his face he happily exclaims, "I can't wait!" when talking about the Adopted Child To Be.
You realize that the years of pain and torture and seemingly endless roller coaster of emotions will be worth it when you see him hold it all in his hands for the very first time.

Even if he doesn't cry.
But you know he will, if only in his soul.

That moment won't erase the forever pain, for pain is ever present when a part of your heart is not.
But it will dress a wound.

Time will stand still.
Dreams will no longer be a thing of sleep.

A man will grow up to be a dad.
And like that man, I just can't wait.

The most perfect shade of purple

That's what I would think every time I made a trip to the big grocery store and saw the irises when I passed by the floral section. I always thought to myself, "I should buy some of those", but never did. It's kinda weird buying flowers for yourself, you see. Despite our recent big ticket spending, I really am quite frugal most of the time and, well, spending money on flowers for myself just seems like a waste.

However, I did enjoy looking at them and never failed to notice them when I passed by. Either my husband did not fail to notice me not failing to notice them, or he is psychic, because Thursday evening he came home with a bouquet of, you guessed, it, those most perfect purple irises.




Now you're probably thinking that purple irises are a strange Valentine's Day gift. Roses, Dustin, ROSES! But my man knows me. He knows I'm not a huge fan of the roses. He also knows that tulips are one of my most favorite flowers ever and those are the flowers I usually receive. But for some reason he decided to be different this week and he was so right on. He also brought along some more little buddies of his. Hello, bloggy friends, meet Mr. Lindt chocolate and Ms. Ferrero Rondnoir.




Flowers? Chocolate? Wait, that sounds like Valentine's Day and we don't really do Valentine's Day! So I was quite unprepared. He really took me by surprise. Thursday was actually the 8th anniversary of when we got engaged. If you don't know the story of how we met and how we became "an item", you can read it here on his blog, where he wrote a sappy sweet entry on Valentine's Day just for me. *swoon*

So he bought me the most perfect shade of purple, delicious dark chocolates, and a cute sweet little card with a nice hand written love note in it. And what did I give him?




Peanut butter cookies, his favorites, and fudge oatmeal cookies, MY favorites. And I keep eating them all. *giggle* I'm such a bad wife.

He blogs!

*giggle*

I'm giggling because apparently we convinced my man to blog after all. But was his first blog all about how wonderful, attractive, intelligent, and perfect I am? Nope. It was about prison. Or something. I don't know. Oh yeah, he mentions me... at the end. I'm also listed as his number one "interest" in his profile. BUT! Then he claims his interests are "pretty generic".

Gee, thanks, hon! Are you calling me cheap?

"Generic wives, aisle four!"

Of course, I'm just messing with him. I must warn you, we both have a weird (and sometimes sick) sense of humor. I'm sure you've noticed that about me, but he's worse. In fact, it's his fault I am the way that I am. After living with him for over seven years, you sort of start to act like him. He's contagious.

But at least he's not generic...