The Christmas that Happened in February.

Kind of.

Most of you know that I got Chris a t.v. wall mount for Christmas. But, it was a horrible disaster. It was the wrong size and needed to be returned. We got the right one sometime in late January. With some extra hands and an awesome tool box, Chris finally got to enjoy his Christmas present. In February. Sorry, Bloom.

And, since the t.v. is out of the way, we got a new computer desk and put the computer in the living room! Victory!

(okay, we made a batch of cookies...get off my back, already!)

But, then it wasn't level. So, our friends had to come back with their toolbox.

"Don't Get Mad At Me When You Have to Purchase Mad D-Batteries"

I'm a pretty great liar. Chris ceases to understand the lengths I will go to protect a surprise.

"You took my mailbox key, trickster Danni!"

"...what? I swear I didn't touch it. Maybe it broke off your keychain... that happened to me once. I'll call our association on my lunch break and order you a new one"

(Psh... I totally had that key)

I set up a scavenger hunt the night before Valentine's Day. The first clue was obviously in the dog food bin - It's the first thing he does when he gets up. Chris flew through most of the clues (save one). He got stumped with "Walk, SkinnyGirl, Walk" (it was the clue to his blu-ray, "Run, FatBoy, Run").

                                                  
The last clue was a small heart-shaped pillow that I made with our mailbox key stuffed inside! I drove it to my aunt's house and hid it in a basket. The end result was a happy husband with a new beard trimmer and a Samurai movie.

                                                   

My favorite part of Valentine's Day is always making Chris' day excellent. It's the best ever.

But, when I got home it was my turn! People just don't get me like Chris does. As I opened my gift and saw that it was a cast iron dutch oven, I almost jumped out of my seat. Just THINK of all the delicious things I'll cook it in!

                                                  
                                 

Then, we were off to a mystery dinner in St. Augustine. Chris, semi-blindly, picked a restaurant that he thought looked cozy and quaint. As we drove through the residential areas of St. Augustine, Chris says, "I'm sorry if we get there and it's in someone's house".

But, it wasn't someone's house. It was a tiny place with only 10 tables... and the greatest food. We were adventurous and tried all kinds of new things... scallops, pears on our salad, and shrimp bisque.
                           

                                                              

The drive home was spent sleepy, holding hands and singing along to "Stereo Hearts".

Abuelita

My life could have gone two different ways: the way it should have gone and the way it is now.

I only need to tell you that had it not been for a little Bela and a great, big God, my life should have been empty. Every part of my past sets the stage for a troubled minority. You know the type: she finds attention in the wrong places, she doesn't pursue an education, and she definitely doesn't care about self-esteem. She's reckless. She probably finds comfort in drugs and men. Maybe she has a mediocre (at best) relationship with her family. Her favorite spot is at the club hanging on the arm of an ex-boyfriend. This is the Danielle I should have been.

But, I have a little abuelita. And, as far as I know, she was the only one who consistently prayed for me since the day I was born. And, these were BIG prayers - Prayers that would literally change the direction of my life.

You all know what my life looks like now. 

It's God's answer to Bela. And, she thanks me for who I am every time she calls.

I Get to Be a Wife on the Weekend

Well, I'm always a wife - but, I don't always feel like one. 

Here, let me show you:

This is me, Monday through Friday. A little lopsided, I know.

But, the weekend! On the weekend everything kind of falls back into balance - I get to make the Wife Slice of that pie just a little bigger. This weekend wasn't anything super special or out of the ordinary. We clipped coupons, went grocery shopping, bought our pups a few new toys and spent Sunday morning at church. As I type this, I'm laying in bed, Chris is taking a nap, and pulled pork is roasting in the oven.

We just spent time together. And, it's a great life.

      

                   

                                 

Mmm - pulled pork.

One of Those Weeks

And your life feels like it's running you.

I'm all out of sorts this week and every smudge on our wood floor mocks me. I won't go into my guest room because it just a visual representation of how I've felt since school has started. Thank God for Chris and the dinners he shoves down my throat around 9 p.m. before I go to bed.

I'd like to tell you about my morning. I woke up at 4:45 to study. It's fine - I work better in the morning than I do when I'm over-exhausted at the end of the day. That's not the ridiculous part.

About an hour after I had started studying, I remembered I was hungry. REALLY hungry. But, also really tired. 

Food wins every time. 

I got up from my chair and semi-walked to the freezer. Toaster strudel it is. As I lean forward to put the pastry in the toaster, a shock of pain FLOODS through my abdomen. There was a fork... sticking out of the utensil drawer. Like, someone (CHRIS) closed the drawer and left the prongs of a fork to stick out in aggression. And, I had just thrusted into it with the majority of my body weight. Touche, fork. Touche. I'll put you back where you belong.

But, my strudel is ready. I always rub the packet of frosting in between my hands to warm it up. It's been in the freezer, after all. 

This packet had a hole in it. 

So, imagine my surprise when both of my hands were covered in frosting. I managed to salvage what was left in the packet and (not attractively) put it on my toaster effing strudel.

Now, it's time for the juice (You know where this is going)

It's 5:45 and ALL I want in life is my Picasso-looking pastry and Cran-Acai juice. But someone, put the juice bottle in the fridge with the cap untwisted - but, twisted enough so I thought it was on. Mother effer. Whatever. It was probably me. So, yeah. It spilled on floor.

Clorox Wipes

Paper Towels

Clean

Pour My Juice.

Sit Back Down

This is where I notice the fine print on my syllabus: "You may use the front and back of a 3x5 index card during all of the exams"

I've woken up two mornings in a row at 4:45 to try and memorize these stupid formulas. Touche, Syllabus. Touche.

And, then I buttoned my shirt up crookedly. 

That was my Thursday morning before I even got out the door.