Let me tell you a story.......

Once upon a time........well, let's not start this way. This isn't a fairy tale. Those don't exist in real life, but this is probably as close to one as you can get. 

It all started in 2004.

I was 16 when my brother started searching for a guitar player for a bluegrass gospel band he had formed called "Mount Zion". He had been to Nashville to record their first nationally released CD, and had been told by Jeff and Ray Deaton that, although Russ was perfectly fine as a guitar player for the group, he needed to be playing mandolin......because......well, if you've ever heard Russ play mandolin, you would know that he can pick one so hot it almost catches fire. So, their reasoning was sound, but finding a guitar player of the quality Russ would want was going to be hard. 

One day shortly following this fateful trip, a semi-frequent customer came in the store. He knew of Russ' trip to Nashville and the band formation, so he asked how things were going. When Russ explained the events of the trip, the customer said "Well, I may know of someone for you. He's a Mennonite, but he's the finest guitar picker I've heard." Russ responded with a look of confusion, and the statement that Mennonites don't play music. The man assured Russ that, although he would normally agree with him, this was not a normal case. So, Russ agreed to meet with the supposed "Mennonite". 

After their first meeting, I asked Russ how things went. He said "Well, he was right. That kid is fine. He's 21.....and probaby one of the best guitar players I've ever heard." My first thought was "21 and a guitar player! I've got to meet this guy!" So when I voiced this thought to Russ, his reply was......... well, not very enthusiastic. I was basically told the guy wasn't my type, and to forget about it. So I did. Until the next practice was set. I made sure that I ran late enough to still be at the store for when it started. I'll never forget the first time I heard him play. I was in with a student, and couldn't even see him, but I heard a guitar break, and was so impressed! I remember thinking "If this guy looks half as good as he plays, I'm going for it!". So, I finished up with my student and headed out front to see what was what. When I walked out and saw him.....the player of the guitar....the...."Mennonite"......He wasn't at all what I expected. He was......skinny.....short......and wore huge glasses. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a polo shirt, and looked like he hadn't shaved in a day or two. I probably don't have to tell you this, but at 16, when your hormones are going crazy and you have certain ideas of how someone should look or act, you tend to sluff off anything that doesn't fit in the tiny box that is your mind. So I think I nodded and maybe said hello before I made a beeline for the door. 

No. He wasn't what I was looking for. 

Over the course of the next few months, I had my 17th birthday, and life was pretty much the normal. Mom, dad, and myself started going to several Mount Zion shows........you know.......to support Russ. I enjoyed going to the shows, and was really starting to enjoy looking at the new guitar player. I didn't like the fact that I was enjoying it, but I reeally couldn't help myself. I mean, he was too skinny and short. He was not my type at all. (Because we all know at 17 everyone has their type picked out.)

In April of 2005, Russ was going to a local studio to start work on the next Mount Zion CD project, with the new arrangement. It would feature several old standards, and lots of original material. I remember being told about one particular studio trip where  Russ says he was asked tons of questions about me on the way there by a certain skinny guitarist. I wondered why in the world he was asking about me?? Maybe he caught me staring at him at one of the shows and thinks I'm some kind of psyco?  I tried not to think about it too much and just go on. Yeah. That didn't work. 

By June, one of us, and I still to this day don't know which one, decided to start talking to the other one. I realized that he had a subtle sense of humor that most everyone he was around didn't pick up on, so it made it really funny. Plus he had a sweet spirit about him, and he seemed very kind. The more time I spent around him, the more I liked him. One night that same month, I decided to go out on a limb and invite him to my house for supper. He was in town for a show and Russ and Skyla had plans with her partents, so I thought "what better excuse?" When I asked him, I don't know that he took me seriously right away, but after I insisted, he accepted and a plan was made for me to pick him up. When the hour arrived and I pulled in at the music store........well, let's just say we both got some looks. I didn't really care, Supper went good, except for one incident with a salt shaker that I won't reveal the details of. And we even took a picture to commemorate the event. 

                                         

Aftter that night, we were pretty much really good friends. We talked every few days and emailed some. Being an hour and a half from each other, that was pretty much our options. And I mean, we were, after all, just good friends, so what more did we need?

In July, I invited him up for my 18th birthday where we argued over what part of my cake he would eat, and then went for a drive to the Louisburg picnic where our lives changed forever. I don't know how it happened (I say that a lot in this story), but when we left the picnic that night, we were a couple. Then is when the real phone conversations started. The monday following my birthday, we talked for 3 hours.....but that was nothing in the grand scheme of things. We once stayed on the phone for 8, with most of the conversations averaging 4-5. As I say, we were 1 1/2 hours apart, with him not driving, so building a relationship on that type of situation isn't easy. We called, we emailed, and waited until a show came up so we could see each other. Weeks turned to months, arguments happened, things were forgiven, many shows passed, and finally an opportunity arose for him to move to Buffalo. Thankfully, he took it. 

Dating seriously changes when you're used to having phone conversations to get you by for 2 months at a time, then all of a sudden you can see each other every day. It was pretty awesome, and I'm sure I  took advantage many times, and drove him crazy. I just couldn't help myself. I was so in love with this man, who, thanks to mine and mom's cooking, wasn't so skinny and short anymore. My 20th birthday was what we counted as our 2 year dating anniversary. I wasn't really expecting anything, but I was hoping. I had been after him for a while to make a move. His proposal was quirky, and completely untraditional. Pretty much our whole relationship. I of course said yes, and we set the wedding date for one year and one month away. 

                                                       

A lot can hapen in a year. Even a lot of things that can test a relationship's strength. It was during this time that my mom was first diagnosed with cancer and I learned how much that I needed him. He was there for me the entire time. Mom lost her arm during that year, but she was still there for every step of my wedding planning, and anxious for me to get married. She told me that she knew she wouldn't always be with me and she wanted to know I would be taken care of. So the wedding went on as scheduled.  Our first year was hard, as is everyones, because learning to live with someone is hard work. But, I think it's safe to say that we handled things well, and eventually adjusted to each other. 

I learned so much during those dating years, but it never compairs with living with someone. First off, I thought when we were dating that he just didn't like his full name. Wrong. He HATES being called by his full name. There is no "Daniel" in our house. There is Dan. And he likes beans for breakfast. He occasionally likes mustard on his sandwhiches and desperately needs time to himself whenever he can. He was not a Mennonte, regardless of other peoples opinion. He pretty much has to drink with a straw. He likes to be taken care of when he's really sick, but when he's just a little sick, you best leave him alone. He loves his routein, and doesn't like breaking it for anyone. And this is just a teeny tiny portion of things that I have learned.......and sometimes learned the hard way. 

When I said a lot can happen in a year, take that times 5 and that brings us to now. We've had countless arguments, just as many make up sessions, 4 promotions, 1 job location change, overnight shifts, family events and celebrations, church services, and just last year we lost mom. She was right when she said that I would be taken care of. Dan was with me through it all, being my strength, holding me when I felt like I would fall, and being a shoulder when I just needed to cry. I couldn't have made it through without him. 

And now we're entering another new and exciting chapter by adding in a sweet little boy. This pregnancy is something that I am enjoying so much! I'm sure that by the end of it, though, it will be another test of our marriage......as will the raising of our child. I don't have any doubts about wether we'll make it though. I signed on for the long haul, and I know he did too.  

Happy number 5, honey. I love you.

And they lived most blessedly together forever. 

The end. 

I'm Baaaaack!

Well, everyone, I have finally returned. As I'm sure you noticed (or at least I hope you noticed), I have been MIA for quite sometime now. To tell the truth, writing in my blog has not been my number one priority. There have been so many changes and issues to get through the last few months, it's been all I could do to survive my normal day to day, much less try to write down how I'm feeling about it. 

For the past 9 months, I've been trying to function as a full grown adult with, what feels like, a little girl trapped inside. And if it were up to the little girl, and if I would allow myself, I could slip so easily into a deep depression that I know not how I could escape from, that I would wind up spending all day, every day, in bed.....eating. "All this is because your mom died?"  Yes. I know that it's difficult for some people to understand, but it's true.

The past couple of months have been better, and some days I'm actually glad to be out of bed. 

I've often thought of seeing a psychiatrist about my depression issues. It's still not out of the question, and has even been suggested to me by a few people.......my husband being one of them. I told him I would go if he would. We've kind of stalled out there. I actually feel like that with God's help, I'll eventually get passed a lot of this, and He has helped me a lot already, so I will probably just wait and see how it goes. 

 

Dan and I found out the first part of April that we are to be parents come December, and while I was so happy and excited to find out, I also felt a deep sense of guilt and sadness at the same time. My first thought was that my mom wasn't going to see it. I had several days of crying and praying and talking to various family members after that day, just so I could get a grip and understand that mom wouldn't be mad at me for going on living without her, and that everything would be ok. 

When I told Dan how I was feeling, his response was a simple question; "Knowing everything your mom went through, would you really have wanted to have a baby before she passed?" 

I had never thought about it that way, and he was right of course. It all comes back to the fact that God's timing is perfect. Regardless of wether we see it or not, He's got everything under control. 

He is sending us this baby when He wants it to come, and that is something to be thankful for. 

I'm nervous about this baby. For several reasons. Normal everyday new mom things.....I hope.

 The main one being that I've never had a child before and I don't know what to expect. I don't handle pain well, so I've already told my doctor that I want drugs. No joke, I'll take whatever kind they want to give me and as soon as they want to give it. Lol. 

Next, I'm afraid that I'm not going to know what to so with this kid once I get it home. I mean, what if it cries all the time and I can't get it to stop no matter what? Am I going to have the natural instincts to handle that? I've always heard that when it's your child it's different. Everything just comes to you, and is completely natural. I pray this is true, and everything will go as it should. My main prayer is that the baby is healthy. 

Dan says that I should worry about him because he doesn't think he'll be that great of a dad. I, however, disagree. I think that, like me, he'll have a hard time at first, but when we survive those first few weeks (months), he'll be a natural. He's already showing signs of greatness by worrying that he won't be good enough. He wants to make sure he's a good provider.....that his child is going to have bigger and better opportunities than he had. He's talking about traits that he hopes the baby will and will not inherit from him......and me. 

To me, these are all signs of good dad material. Though he hasn't said it in the conventional way yet, I know he loves this baby. He proves that by going to work every day to provide for us, by helping me pick out names (even though he doesn't want to, and would rather leave the name blank so the child can pick it out on their own), and by helping me out whenever he can. I read once that the very best way to be a good dad is by loving the baby's mother. I think he can handle that. 

I always remember my mom's words of advice when it came to Dan and children; "He'll be really good to you when you're carrying the baby, but don't be upset when he doesn't get all excited about it. He won't think a thing about it other than worrying about money and you. But once he is there with you when you have it, he'll love it, and that baby will be have him wrapped around it's finger." 

Mom was a smart lady. <3 And I'm counting on her to be right this time. 

December is still pretty far away and it will be a while before I know the answers to all my questions, so until then, I'll continue to think about names on my own, buy little baby things, imagine what he/she looks like, and pray that it's growing healthy inside me. You know. Mom things.