Lee | Page 8 | Minivans Are Hot

Girl and Boy Become Man and Wife

June 11, 2010 by Kelli

It is time to tell you the rest of the story. Grab a steaming cup of hot tea, will you. Sit back, kick up your heels and prepare to swoon. Get your lungs ready because you’re going to heave a sigh of utter contentment in a few moments…

Okay, this story isn’t that great. I might be exaggerating slightly. My wedding was hardly a fairy tale. There were no fluffy white bunnies who tied bows in my hair. Tiny sparrows did not flit about my head whistling in perfect harmony. Clothes-wearing mice did not sew my glistening white wedding gown and my groom did not break out in song when I walked down the isle (just the thought of that makes me laugh).

All of that would have been cool (except the mice part; clothes or no clothes, I don’t like those furry little creatures), but that is not what the day held for me. It was, however, in the immortal words of Mary Poppins herself, “Practically perfect in every way.” I was ready to marry the boy. For eight months I had been his fiancee. I wanted to be his wife. I was ready to be a Mrs. I wanted to walk down the isle on my dad’s arm and say “I do.”

And I did.

I am blessed cursed with plenty of neuroses. But one thing I am not is a girly girl or a perfectionist. This makes planning a wedding very, very easy. I bought the first dress I tried on, because I loved it. I tried on a few more, but I knew right away that the first one was it. It was me. It was simple, elegant and comfortable. I also knew from past experience that I wanted to look natural. I’m not a heavy make up person, because I’m well aware of the fact that too much make up makes me look like a child who played in her mama’s bathroom cabinets. If I attempt the smokey eye I don’t look elegant so much as I strongly resemble a two cent hooker.

And I’d had enough up-do’s in my school dance days to know that my hair in a French Twist makes me look like an ’80’s era creature from Alienation.

I like Daisy’s and Lilies, and I like photographs…and lots of them. So the photographer and the florist were easy decisions to nail down. I didn’t want anything elaborate. I just wanted comfort and familiarity because as much as I wanted to marry the boy and as excited as I was to become his wife, I also wanted to be surrounded by the comforts of simplicty. It made the idea of marriage seem less daunting.

So I stuck with my simple hair, my simple make up and my simple dress. My simple flowers, my lots of pictures, my simple hors de veurs and wedding cake (none of that nasty raspberry filling stuff – nope, white cake, white icing…the way the angels like it). But I felt anything but simple and ordinary. I felt as if I had been adorned by woodland creatures and singing cherubs. I felt…like a Princess.

To be honest, I remember few details about the day of my wedding. I know I was up early all jittery and happy. I know I had my hair done and my bridesmaids (all nine of them) had breakfast with me. I don’t know what time we headed to the church or where everyone got dressed. I do remember my grandmother making me laugh out loud at some point.

“Kelli,” she said, “I heard that you and all of your bridesmaids are wearing thongs today.”

“Uh…Mimi! What?! I…maybe. I haven’t asked them…”

She stared back at me completely confused. And my mom burst out laughing. “They don’t call them thongs anymore, Mom,” she said. “And yes, all the girls are wearing flip flops.”

Sweet Mimi.

I was a bit of a traditionalist when it came to my wedding. I didn’t want to see the boy before the ceremony, I wanted the Wedding March played when I walked in and I wanted hymns sung during the ceremony. Somehow that just seemed right to me. And it all went off without a hitch.

Well…except for the tears. I’ve told you about my penchant toward crying. I don’t get the cute little single tear drop that streams down the cheek like you see in the movies. Oh no…I cry like an ugly gopher. And if I try to hold the tears in I end up bursting like the Hoover Dam.

So mid-way through the minister asking who would give this woman to marry this man, I broke. And I was mic’ed. Then I tried to laugh to cover it up, which only made me sound a bit like a machine gun filled with snot balls. A blushing bride, I was not.

But sobby sobberson’s aside, the ceremony itself was beautiful. My uncle and my high school youth minister, two of the most unorthodox, craziest men in ministry I’ve ever known, led the service and they injected the right amount of humor and sweetness to balance out my crazy. The music was sweet, the boy was sweet (and terribly, terribly handsome in his tux with tails. Oy!) And it ended with me becoming Mrs. Lee Stuart. A name I was happy to take on and I am even more proud to bear today, nearly ten years later.

After what seemed forever in photographs (We had a wedding party of eighteen! We’re not good at narrowing down…) we hopped in our limo and headed off to the reception where we had one heck of a party and a huge surprise waiting for us.

To be continued…

Read the rest of the story here.

Filed Under: blast from the past, Blogging, Family, Lee, Life, Marriage Tagged With: Lee and Kelli Stuart, Love Story, Wedding plans, Wedding Story

I’m looking for Jiminy Cricket

June 8, 2010 by Kelli

Disney makes it look so easy. You wish upon a falling star and anything your heart desires will come to you. But even Jiminy Cricket realized that it took more than wishing for a dream to come true. You have to listen to your heart and follow. Let your conscience be your guide.

Of course, I try not to take theological guidance or direction from an animated cricket, but I do believe there is a nugget of truth buried in there. But from my point of view as a believer, I believe my Jiminy Cricket my conscience to be the Holy Spirit. It is this still small Voice, the Voice of God Himself, that I must listen to. And it is this still small Voice that I often ignore, or worse yet, simply don’t hear at all.

Life is noisy. Bills, responsibilities, work, commitments – all of these contribute to the noise. And sometimes the noise gets so loud that it’s difficult to hear the Voice. But there are moments when the Voice breaks through the noise. Usually these moments are relatively quiet moments – in the still of the morning, or late at night, when the noise of life is in a brief slumber. It’s in those moments that I’m reminded that wishing upon a star is not really going to get me far. I might need to get up and start walking toward the star instead.

Lately, Lee and I have felt stirrings within us. The moments come at different times for each of us, but the thoughts, dreams and ideas are the same. Some of the stirrings require small, but meaningful, planning and action on our parts. For those of you that know Lee and I well you know that planning isn’t, ahem, our strong suit. We tend to fly by the seats of our pants and, while we always have the best of intentions, this means that many big plans get dropped along the way. We’re working on this.

Other stirrings, however, will require a significant amount of prayer, hard work, diligence and faith. And the faith part? It’s a doozy. I have personally never been much of a skeptic. Faith, in it’s simplest form, comes fairly easy to me. I’m not one to question or doubt. In some ways, this is a very good trait. But other times I have to remind myself that it’s necessary to think critically and not operate on blind faith. In other words, I sometimes have to make myself question the concept of faith so that I can better defend my faith. If that makes any sense at all….

All that to say, some of the stirrings within my own soul require a depth of faith that I haven’t yet grasped. A complete, life altering, Here Am I Lord type of faith. It’s the type of faith that may require me to be uncomfortable. I may have to sacrifice some of my comforts. I might even need to let go of some dreams and desires.

Can I do it?

I recently read this post from Shawn Groves. It only further spoke to my already softening heart. If my life were a home movie, what would it look like? Hmmm…

So I’m not being totally cryptic, we’re not considering selling all our possessions and moving to far east Siberia to live in a cabin and start a slavic revival. No need to worry! We are, however, trying to open ourselves up to the What If’s.

What if God called us to far east Siberia?

What if God called us to serve in missions?

What if God called us to go serve a meal to the homeless in downtown St. Louis?

What if God called us to adopt a child?

What if God called us to have another child?

What if God called us to rise in the early hours of the morning and pray over our children instead of sleeping in?

What if God called us to move to small town USA simply to minister to our neighbors?

What if God wants us to stay right where we are and continue to serve those around us quietly and effectively?

What if God wants me to drive my smokin’ hot minivan with pride all the while pouring His Truth’s into my children’s hearts as I shuttle them from here to there?

The bottom line is this: We want to be ready for the What If’s, no matter what they might be. Lee and I each have hopes, dreams, desires and vision. Some of them line up and will be easy to implement – some do not match entirely and will require joint prayer. But we want to stop ignoring the whispers that have grown louder over the past few months. We want to quit talking and start doing. Which takes planning.

*sigh* If only Jiminy Cricket could serve as our family manager…

Filed Under: discipline, Family, Heritage, Lee, Life, Marriage Tagged With: Family and Parenting, Family Planning, Hearing the Holy Spirit, Jiminy Cricket

The Carpenter’s Son

June 7, 2010 by Kelli

On Friday the kids were doing what kids do…fighting.

Well that, and playing outside. At one point I looked out the window and saw Sloan surrounded by several pieces of scrap wood, a hammer, nails, the electric screwdriver and a saw. Um…that seemed like a good moment to go check on them.

“What are you doing, bud?” I asked as I stepped out onto the driveway.

“Oh I’m just making a chair for Tia and me to sit on,” he replied. He balanced a piece of wood precariously on another and raise the hammer high above the tiny nail pinched between his fingers.

“Uh…Sloan?”

“Yeah?” he asked, squinting up at me.

“I think we should wait for daddy to come home before you start hammer nails into boards.”

It took a bit of convicing, but he finally agreed to hold off on smashing his fingers and sawing his arm off. And when Lee got home, Sloan pounced.

“Canwemakeachairdad, IreallyreallyreallywanttomakeachairformeandTiatositin. Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleeeeeaaaase?” Lee agreed to help make a chair…on Saturday morning.

And make a chair they did. When it was all assembled, we threw down a piece of plastic and opened up some cans of leftover paint and let them have at it.

It turned out quite nice:

Yep. We like our new chair…

We like it a lot!

Filed Under: Family, Kids, Landon, Lee, Life, Sloan, summer fun, Tia Tagged With: building with dad, Carpentry, Kids and prjects

As luck would have it

June 4, 2010 by Kelli

Part of my Craig’s List money went toward a minor room redecoration. I never liked the bedding I bought for our king size bed a couple of years ago and last year when we recevied our new furniture it just accented the ugliness of our bedding. So I bought new bedding.

Here’s the thing – I don’t have a decorator’s bone in my body. Which makes the fact that I recently started freelancing for a decorator’s blog slightly humorous, wouldn’t you say? The fact is, I just don’t know how to put together a room. I don’t know what looks good where, how to hang photos, what pieces to use for accents – it’s just not my strong suit. So given that knowledge, I’m pretty proud of the minor changes I made to our bedroom.

Obviously, finding the right bedding was my first goal. As soon as I saw this bedding online, I fell in love with it. I ordered it two months ago and it just arrived yesterday due to back order issues. Just in time for my birthday. Yes, I am 29 AGAIN today. Lee seems to luck out on birthday gifts wouldn’t you say? Last year our furniture happened to arrive the day before my birthday as well.

Remember this?

So here we are, one year later, and my bed is finally outfitted properly.

I also bought new side table lamps since our old ones didn’t match and were not even remotely cute. Behold, the glory of a cute side table lamp:

Many thanks to HomeGoods for being the perfect place for non-decorators like me to shop. And naturally we needed a few accents in the room to pull it all together. Naturally.

Lee’s not overly crazy about the urn. “It’s weird,” he keeps saying. “What’s the purpose?” And I’m all, “Dude, you obviously know nothing about decorating a room…”

Weird urn aside, I like how things are coming together in there. I still need to figure out what to do in one naked corner and I need to re-hang a few pictures that don’t look right and, eventually, I’d like to repaint the walls. But what color? Those are the types of decisions that stress me out.

For now, however, I’m going to rest my head on some cute pillows and let out a sigh of accomplishment because I conquered my fear of redecorating a room!

Now if I could only get my husband to take the suitcases down to the basement as they are totally messing with my Feng Shui.

I feel like I’m living in an episode of Everybody Loves Raymond.

All photos were taken with my new point and shoot, courtesy of my parents. I love my Pentax and the quality of pictures it takes, but the thing is a mammoth and, to be honest, I wasn’t crazy about hauling it around the Zoo with me. It made me nervous. So I’m excited to have a smaller camera that I can stick in my pocket. Thanks Mom and Dad.

Filed Under: Family, funny stuff that happens, Lee, Life, Marriage, Random, shameless self-promotion Tagged With: Decorating a bedroom, Echo Jaipur Bedding

Memorial Day Weekend

May 31, 2010 by Kelli

This weekend has been full of time together. Blessed, sweet, down time together. We’ve done things like:

Hit the baseball…with our eyes closed.

Worn our soccer shirt because we’re sad soccer is over.

We haven’t let a little thing like a broken arm slow us down.

We’ve enjoyed having daddy all to ourselves for three whole days.

We’ve made funny faces while hitting the baseball.

We’ve let daddy give us instruction on our batting stance.

We haven’t worn shoes.

And we’ve eaten Star Wars Pancakes.

We’ve all spent time at the park and the pool as well as spent time this morning as a family praying for Sgt. Jeremy Nevil in Afghanistan. We love you Jeremy! We can’t wait until you’re home with your precious family.

Happy Memorial Day. I pray that it’s been blessed as we remember the men and women who have sacrificed so that we could enjoy the blessings of freedom.

May the Force be With You All!

Filed Under: Family, funny stuff that happens, Kids, Landon, Lee, Life, Sloan, Tia Tagged With: Kids playing ball, Memorial Day

On LOST and Dostoevsky

May 24, 2010 by Kelli

I’ve read The Brothers’ Karamatzov three times.

I’ve made it to the end once.

I got to The Grand Inquisitor twice and my mind almost exploded and both times I put it down for several months before trying again. The third time I read it, I quit trying to figure it out and just enjoyed the story. There was a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that I was missing some pretty important elements and symbols, but I knew if I tried to figure them out, I’d get stuck again, so I ignored the feeling and got lost in the plot.

For much of the last two seasons, I’ve felt the same feeling while watching LOST. It is the Dostoevsky of television. There was so much symbolism, so much to get out of the show from a spiritual and worldview standpoint, but if I thought about it too long, I felt like my head would explode, so I got “lost” in the story instead.

And it was a great story. Probably the greatest TV plotline in history. It was original and weird and dramatic and funny. It made you think and laugh and cry and shout. It was a really, really great show.

I’m not a TV person. I don’t love to sit and watch TV. The constant movement and noise makes me crazy. Aside from FRIENDS, I’ve never before been so addicted to a show that I would put aside life for a short bit of time each week to watch.

But LOST was different. For six years, LOST has been a date night for Lee and I. Every week for 18 weeks, we’ve put the kids to bed early, piled up on the couch and enjoyed unravelling the mysteries of the island. We’ve talked through theories and the significance of what the characters were experiencing. We’ve grumbled when the plotlines didn’t make sense and clapped our hands with glee when they were so good we felt like we could jump out of our skins.

It’s kind of embarrassing to admit that I’m going to miss a TV show, but I am going to miss LOST. It’s amazing how attached you can become to characters. I know they aren’t real, but for six years I’ve invested in the stories of these finctional people. It was like a long novel that I never wanted to end. I’m going to miss watching the show with my husband each week. I can’t imagine another show ever taking it’s place. I actually told Lee that we should maybe just go ahead and cancel cable.

He thought that might be a little rash.

Warning – Spoiler Alerts Ahead!

Last night’s series finale left me feeling a little confused. When it ended I almost felt let down a bit. The nature of LOST is to leave you with questions, so I fully expected to be a little baffled. But, like Dostoevsky, I felt like the last few minutes were so deep and metaphorical that I missed the whole meaning. And there was a fear that maybe the writer’s had pulled the wool over my eyes for so long.

They were all dead?! What!

For about fifteen minutes, I felt confused and frustrated. But it didn’t make sense. Surely they hadn’t been dead the whole time. The writer’s wouldn’t do that. So Lee and I rewatched the ending and it seemed to answer the most pressing question.

The survivors were not dead on the island. All that was real. But somewhere along the way, they all eventually died. Some, like Jin and Sun, Sayiid and Shannon and Boone, died on the island. Others, like Claire, Kate and Sawyer got off the island and lived life. We don’t know what happened to them, but they lived and died. Jack, of course, died on the island, in the same place where he began six years ago. Laying in the bamboo field.

Brilliant.

The sideways reality was a sort of purgatory. It was a waiting ground – a place for all of them to be connected again. I still don’t really understand all of that, honestly. There are a lot of unanswered questions and this is the part of the story that I could either go crazy trying to unravel or I could simply enjoy the story and leave it at that. Again, it’s the nature of LOST to leave you feeling completely confused and exhilerated all at once.

Dumb smart people…

But the island happened. And that’s the story that I invested six years of my life into, so I was relieved to know that it was “real.”

I loved the way that they brought all the characters back together in the sideays reality, even if I’m not crazy about how it ended. It felt like there was closure. Kate and Jack were together. Sawyer and Juliet found one another again. Sayiid and Shannon were reunited. It was so good to see all of these storylines intersect once again. It ended with everyone where they should be.

So all in all, I enjoyed the series finale of LOST. I still feel like there is so much I missed. There was deep symbolism leading up to last night’s finale. I got some of it, I probably overanalyzed a little, and I’m sure I missed a lot. But strip all that away and I still fell in love with a great story.

If you didn’t watch the show, well, you missed out. But there’s hope! Never fear. Lee and I, being the deep nerds that we are, have every single season on DVD. You can borrow them anytime you want.

And I am now finished bleeding nerdiness all over my keyboard.

The End.

Filed Under: Lee, Life, Random, the boob tube

Boy Proposes (Girl Says Yes)

May 7, 2010 by Kelli

It was November, 1999 and Lee and I had plans to go visit my parents for the weekend. We had been talking a lot about marriage, weddings, rings and so on, so I knew an engagement was soon in the making. I had a sneaking suspicion that the weekend we went home, Lee was planning on talking to my dad and asking his permission. And then I figured he would officially pop the question on Thanksgiving.

We were flying out of Austin, Texas that weekend and they had recently opened a new airport, which Lee and I had never been to. The original Austin airport was small and easy to find. The new one…wasn’t.

We left ourselves just enough time to get to the airport, park Lee’s sexy Grand Am and get to our gate with about thirty minutes to spare. This was pre-9/11 days so we figured we could zip through security in no time. What we did not plan on, however, was how long it would take us to get to the new airport. It was significantly farther away than the original airport and as we drove and drove and drove and…droooove, we got increasingly nervous about missing our flight. With an hour to go from departure, we were still roughly thirty minutes from the airport. And I started to panic.

No worries though. Lee floored the Grand Am and we broke the law to screech into the airport with no time to spare. Lee dropped me and the bags off at the front and he raced to park the car. I dashed inside to the ticket agent and asked him to call the flight and tell then we were coming.

“We?” he said, looking around me.

“My bo-erm…My friend is on his way.” I stammered, still not comfortable with the term boyfriend. The guy raised his eyebrows and looked me up and down then nodded and said, “Mmm-hmmm. And where exactly is your ‘friend?‘” he asked, actually using air quotes at me.

And just then, like a knight in shining armor, Lee tore through the door all red faced and sweaty. I motioned, the guy rolled his eyes and told us to hurry. We made it moments before they shut the doors.

When we arrived in St. Louis, I found myself very nervous and jittery. On Saturday morning, Lee and my dad were going flying. My dad had his pilot’s license and he was taking Lee on a flight to Sikeston. And the story I got from that morning goes something like this:

The guys were prepping the plane for take off and talking business. Lee was busy trying to figure out where he was going to work after his two years with K-Life ended. He had recently met with Drayton Mclane, owner of the Houston Astros, and he was exploring some options. My dad, who was on one side of the plane, asked, “So, Lee, how did this meeting come about?” He was asking Lee how he got connected with Drayton Mclane.

Lee, however, was so nervous about asking if he could marry me that he wasn’t really thinking of anything else. So, thinking that my dad wanted to know how the meeting that morning came about, Lee blurted out, “Well Richard, IwantedtoknowifIcouldmarryyourdaughter.”

awkward pause

It took my dad a second to figure out what Lee was talking about and why he had so swiftly changed the subject. Then he made Lee get in the plane and told him they’d talk more when they got to Sikeston. So for an hour, Lee had to sit next to my dad, in a small plane, nervously awaiting his answer.

Cruel. But funny too…

That night, Lee and I went to dinner with my parents. I hadn’t had a chance to talk with Lee to see how the conversation went with my dad. I knew my parents loved Lee so I wasn’t worried, but I was curious. We went to a country club for dinner and as we waited on the salads to come, I ran to the bathroom, throwing my napkin down on my plate.

When I came back, I regaled my parents and friend with my fascination over the country club’s fancy bathroom, which had a light that came on automatically when I walked in.

I’m easily please, folks…

“I mean, how did it know I came in?” I asked. “And how did it know how long I was in there? How did the light know to stay on for me? It’s crazy, huh?”

I looked around to see robotic stares in return. My mom picked her napkin up off her lap and kind of flipped in around a couple of times before laying it back down. But nobody said anything…they just stared at me. It was weird. Finally, the waitress came with our salads and I grabbed my napkin off my plate so she could lay my salad down.

And staring up at me from inside a red lined box was a beautiful diamond ring. I gasped, laughed and looked at Lee who slid down onto one knee. At this point, the whole restaurant was watching as Lee said a few nice things then popped the question. I don’t remember at all what he said, but I know I said yes and I think I said it kind of loud.

Everyone clapped and moved one. I, however, couldn’t stop staring at my hand, with the sparkler glaring at me from my finger. It was so surreal and exciting and I don’t remember anything else about that night.

It was November 6, 1999. We would be married 8 months later.

To read the more of the love story, go here.

Filed Under: blast from the past, Family, Lee, Life, Marriage Tagged With: Boy Proposes, Engagement, Love Story

Girl and Boy and a Cricket Makes Three

May 4, 2010 by Kelli

As Lee and I lead up to our 10th Anniversary, I am chronicling some of the favorite memories of our years together. You can read our love story here.

By the fall of 1999, Lee and I were an official “item.” Although neither one of us could ever really call each other “boyfriend and girlfriend.” It sounded silly and trivial and we’d giggle every time we said it. We also felt very strange and junior high when we would walk and hold hands. Because we knew that marriage was imminent, it almost felt like hand holding and labeling trivialized our relationship.

When we returned for what would be my senior year at Baylor, Lee decided to go to the K-Life Board of Directors and tell them about our relationship and his intentions for it. Because he was on staff and I was a volunteer leader, technically we weren’t supposed to date. I was willing to step down as a volunteer if I needed to in order to officially date Lee, but I did not have to do that. The Board was not only supportive of Lee and I, they were excited for us. And for that entire school year, they really poured into us as a couple. What a blessing that was.

So we were free to move forward as an official couple, and move forward we did. Every available moment we had, we spent together. Because I was in my final year and it was kicking my tail academically, Lee and I spent a lot of time at Barnes and Noble – me studying, him staring dreamily at me…

Okay, not really – I think he usually prepared his K-Life talks or Bible studies, but I like to think that he was so distracted by my beauty that he got nothing done at all during that time.

For those of you who have been in Waco in the autumn, you will know that what I am about to write is no exaggeration. Every fall, Waco experienced what can only be described as the Plague of Crickets. Thousands upon thousands (maybe millions) of crickets would swarm the town, covering buildings, falling from the sky and altogether making my life a living hell.

I’ve told you about my unnatural fear of crickets here. This fear stems from my years as a Baylor student. And the fall of 1999 was the worst cricket infestation of all my years there. You couldn’t go anywhere without seeing one or 10,000 crickets. They were in restaurants, churches, libraries, classrooms – every-freakin’-where.

One evening, as Lee and I sat in a quiet corner of B & N studying and talking, I kept a wary eye on the crickets that were crawling on the wall next to us. It was at a particularly intense moment of conversation that I felt a tickle on my calf. I gasped and slapped at my leg, shaking my pants around a little. Lee laughed and called me paranoid and we moved on.

A moment later, I felt another tickle on the back of my knee. I yelped and shook my leg under the table. When no cricket came tumbling out, I decided that maybe I was being a little crazy. Until…

I felt something crawling on my thigh!

At this point I leapt to my feet in the silent but crowded book store where several people were studying and began hopping and dancing about as I stuck my hands down my pants and dug for the voyeristic little cricket. I finally felt my hands close around it and I snatched it out of my pants and threw it across the room with a scream.

I looked around to see all eyes on me and Lee doubled over in laughter. I gave a little smile and wave, then slowly sat back down all shaky and hot. Lee was still laughing. I glared at him and leaned forward.

“Lee,” I hissed. “Did you see that?”

He snorted.

“Lee!” I was desperate for him to understand the seriousness of the situation. I had just been viciously attacked, for crying out loud.

“That cricket was in my pants,” I stage whispered in horror.

Lee sat up and wiped his eyes, then looked straight at me. “Well,” he said with a grin. “Lucky cricket.”

My mouth dropped open and my face got hotter still. Then we both started cracking up.

And then we left…And I have had a severe Crickiphobia ever since.

Filed Under: blast from the past, Family, funny stuff that happens, Gross, Lee, Life, Marriage, Random Tagged With: Baylor, crickets, dating, Falling in Love, Waco

We Were En Fuego

May 3, 2010 by Kelli

This weekend we:

Were feeling motivated and inspired so we took advantage of the rarity and tackled a few major yard projects. First, we took down the swing set, much to the kids dismay. They really loved playing on it, but after nearly five years we felt like it was getting a little old and unstable. Why did we feel that way? I think it was the fact that it shook perilously every time one or more children climbed on it…

We let the kids cross the monkey bars one last time before dismantling their beloved swing set.

After taking don the swing set, we decided that it would be nice to completely open up our backyard. And in order to do that, the chain link fence would need to go. So we took it down. And we are both wickedly sore after doing so. But the yard? Looks awesome.

Notice the dog in the corner who is now leashed to a tree. She is the only one not impressed with our hard work.

We also took advantage of the great weather and planted flowers. Have I mentioned that I love spring?

A few other weekend activities included:

– Lee and I attending the wedding of a friend. I was her counselor at a children’s camp when I was in high school. And she’s married now. I feel old…

– My sweet friend Lindsey (who is also sister to the above mentioned bride), and I went to visit with the man who forever altered the course of my life when I was fifteen and he took me on my first mission trip to the former Soviet Union. He is now battling a cancer that is extremely aggressive and is ravaging his body. For almost three hours we sat and talked with him, laughing, reminiscing and soaking up his wisdom. I would like to write more about Gary, but I need some time to process all that we discussed yesterday. But I would like to ask that you join me in praying for him and his family.

– Tia asked me to braid her hair so that she could look “woody pitty” for daddy. So I did. Then I took pictures.

– I cleaned the wall after Landon played Picasso.

What we did NOT do:

– Go to Sloan’s first baseball game due to muddy fields.

– Go to Tia’s soccer game due to lack of motivation.

What did you do and NOT do this weekend?

Filed Under: blast from the past, Family, Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Landon, Lee, Life, Motherhood, Random, Sloan, Tia Tagged With: parenting, planting flowers, Springtime, weekend plans

Boy Says I Love You

April 29, 2010 by Kelli

Alternately titled, Girl Needs Pants.

Part One

Part Two

In June of 1999, I was working as an intern at First Baptist Church in Conway, Arkansas and was slowly but surely wading into the waters of forever with Lee. Toward the end of the month, he came for a visit and during this time we met up with my family in Branson (where I learned that my future husband, Mr. Super-Athlete-Who-Can-Play-Any-Sport-Like-A-Pro, cannot, in fact, water ski. He looks like gumby when he water skis and I will confess that it brings sweet joy to my soul to know that there is one thing I can do better than him.)

As we drove back to Conway, we had the official moment when Lee laid out his intentions for our relationship. I’ll never forget what he said as we twisted and turned through the dark hills. “I just want you to know that I plan on pursuing this relationship to marriage. Are you okay with that?”

Um, yeah. I’m good with that. Totally. You’re hot. We’re good.

Some of the details of my summer in Conay are murkey. For example, I can’t remember if Lee came once or twice to visit. I know that at some point Fourth of July happened, you know – like it happens every year. And my parents came to Conway to meet Lee’s family. I can’t remember if this was the same trip as the Branson visit or a different one. I do remember that the night of July 4th, Lee was goofing around and through a fire cracker at me and it popped right at my feet. And my dad was standing right there watching.

Bad move, dude…

The other thing I remember is the obssession that Lee and I had back then with roller blading. In fact, I’m fairly certain we roller bladed the entire town of Conway at 1:00 in the morning the night before he was to return to Waco. From Texas, he would be leaving to Germany for a month to play basketball. So the night before he left, we stayed up until the wee hours talking, laughing and enjoying the energy that comes with youth and new love.

Around 3:30 that morning, we said good night to each other and went to our separate rooms. I climbed into bed exhausted but ecstatic. And not five minutes after I laid down my head I heard a little knock on the door. It should be noted that I was wearing nothing but a small t-shirt at this moment.

“Can I come in for a second?” Lee asked.

I pulled the covers up to my chin. “Okay,” I said, assuming that he just wanted to say something quickly before heading back to bed.

He walked in the room and turned on the light. Then he grabbed the desk chair and pulled it to the side of the bed and sat down, leaning forward to put his elbows on his knees. And I did not move or sit up, but stayed firmly planted beneath the covers with the blanket pulled up around my chin.

“I just wanted to tell you something before I leave tomorrow,” he began. His eyes were all serious and I sincerely wished I had asked him to wait a minute so I could have gotten dressed before he came in. “I have really been praying about this and I want you to know that I don’t take these words lightly. I fully understand their meaning and I wouldn’t say them if I didn’t mean it with all my heart.”

At this point I’m thinking, Crap! But I’m not wearing any pants!

“Kelli – I love you.”

*awkward pause*

For the few agonizing seconds that I made him sit there in silence, I ran through my options. Stick out one arm for a brief hug and thank him? Nah. Sit up and pull the blankets around my waste and say it in return? Nah – because not only was I not wearing pants, I wasn’t wearing undergarments…and the shirt was white. I was ready for bed, people!

So I said the only thing that really made sense. “Um…could you go stand in the closet for a second?”

Lee’s eyebrows furrowed. I’m pretty sure that wasn’t the response he hoped for. “What?” he asked.

“Just for a second. Go stand in the closet.”

He stood up and walked slowly to the closet. Poor guy. I could see the worry in his eyes. I leapt out of bed and got dressed as quickly as I could, then told him it was okay to come out now. He opened the door and stepped out and I grinned.

“I love you too,” I said. And we hugged. We did not kiss – not yet. I wrote about how long it took my chivalrous husband to kiss me here (and about how terribly I tempted him).

“What was with the closet?” Lee asked as we embraced.

“Well…” I said, “I wasn’t wearing any pants.”

And that, folks, is the day my husband told me he loved me for the first time…

Filed Under: blast from the past, Family, funny stuff that happens, Lee, Life, Marriage Tagged With: Girl Meets Boy, Love Story, Saying I Love You