Some updates...

It's very clear I am a terrible blogger. I think my problem is that I feel the need to write too much, so when I feel like writing, I know I'll end up writing a lot, and then I'm just too lazy to write. But the problem is that since I never write, I always have too much to catch up on... so the updates are never really that great. Just whatever I'm really happy/sad/mad/excited about at the moment.

Tonight, and I'd say for the past few weeks, I have felt every single one of those emotions. I am happy and very thankful for so many reasons. A year ago, Aaron was in Iraq and I was MISERABLE. And he has been home for almost a whole year. Time flies when you're not counting down the days of a deployment. We got "remarried" in a church with all our friends and family by our sides. It was a "bit" stressful, but everything was beautiful, and we have some great memories of the day. Both families are wonderful. Ayden, Ava, Alec, and Korbyn are all getting so big, and it's SO fun watching them become little people right before our eyes. Aaron's family is great, and Lexy is hilarious like always. Claire Francis is still very funny, and still pretty much 100% focused on food. I started a new job, which I count my lucky stars for every day. We bought a house... two cars... some non-used furniture... lots of paintings and rugs, grass seed and plants, decorations and groceries... and all the normal stuff a normal couple does. I always wondered if I could truly be domesticated. But I haven't looked back. :)

The last few weeks have had some sad AND mad moments, that is for sure. All the items mentioned above are GREAT things... but there are just a lot of happy things to list. And lots of happy can mean lots of stress. Oh yeah, did I mention I'm having a BABY??? I can't believe I actually forgot that part. It's the whole reason for the blog.

Anyways, all this change has really put us to the test... and I hope we pass. Since Aaron and I met (really truly since our 3rd date), we have passionately loved each other... we have been each other's best friends... and we have pushed each other to be better people and to try harder than we could have ever imagined. We still do that.

Tonight there are remnants of happy, sad, and even mad. I am too much of a dweller, so when I sit by myself and dwell, it's really hard telling what I'll come up with. But tonight, even with all the remnants and all the dwelling... I am EXCITED. Tomorrow we have our 2nd Ultrasound, and if we're lucky, we will find out whether little Peanut is a girl or a boy. I can't wait!!!!! I've tried really hard to maintain some calm about this pregnancy, just because it's so dang scary and if something bad happens I really do think my heart will never heal.

But tonight I am excited. Raena Joy or Wessley James... I don't even care who you are or what you look like, or if you're chocolate or vanilla, or if you run fast, or if you can sing, or if you hate Math, or if you throw fits in Target... Mommy is going to love you so much. I can't wait to meet you!!!!!!!

North Carolina

He is back in North Carolina. Which should be a happy moment. But we're back to very little communication, no direction or idea what's going on... and I just found out they forgot to buy plane tickets for Aaron's group. They FORGOT. OMG.

Sad.

It's been almost six months since I drove Aaron to Omaha for the beginning of this deployment. I saw him three times after that in North Carolina... and I haven't seen his face or held his hand since August. I am whiny, and angry, and helpless, and so so sad. I know that I am not the first to go through a deployment... and I won't be the last. But that does not mean that it hurts any less...

My mom's blog says to pray... and I keep trying to do that, but I just feel selfish and stupid. And I don't know what to say. And I just keep praying the same thing over and over. And he's still not home.

I have been single, or basically single, my whole life. And yes, I have been lonely. But I didn't know what it was like to be fulfilled... I was so independent and always capable (probably too capable) of taking care of myself. But now I know. And I want him back. I don't want to talk about it anymore. I don't want to start anymore projects, just for distraction. I don't want to go out. I don't want ONE MORE PERSON to tell me that it will be over soon. I just want him back.

Please, God, bring him home. Please please please.

Earned Blessings

I went home this weekend to visit my new baby neice, Korbyn Erin Nichole Liebler. Can you believe I actually have another human being NAMED after me? My brother and his little wifee told me they were going to give Miss Korbyn two middle names, my name and her sister's name. And somehow, in the midst of the past 9 months' activity, I forgot. I hope they didn't notice my stunned expression when they asked me to help decide in which order to put the names. Oops yet again.

This little baby is beautiful. Obviously I am partial due to the fact she shares some of my genes, but in my heart, I would know if she was ugly. And she's just not.

I didn't get teared up at all throughout this process. I think I've been in serious denial that my baby brother had actually produced a baby, or would be a FATHER for that matter. I'm his big sister. Yes, we will have different experiences in our lifetimes, but I'm supposed to pretty much experience everything first. I'm supposed to give guidance and advice, and I'm supposed to tell him what to do and what not to do.

And yet here he is, helping sweet Ali make it through a VERY long labor, cutting an umbilical cord (I don't even know if I spelled that right), measuring tiny ounces of formula, changing diapers, and taking care of his new FAMILY.

Every single bit of this is foreign territory to me. I wasn't there to see or be a part of the birth (I'm stuck in Alabama four days a week for the new job), so I still have no idea the depths of what the female body goes through. I only held Korbyn a few times and spent a pretty minimal amount of time with them overall, and I don't know how or when they sleep. I don't know how much a newborn needs to eat. I don't know what the signs and symptoms are for illness. I don't know what it takes for a body to heal after an event like this. I can barely hand her off to anyone in fear that "someone will drop the baby". I am not the big sister in this situation, but merely a very awed and inspired outsider.

I do know that Miss Korbyn is a blessing. An earned blessing. They didn't pick her up off a clearance aisle at Target. And she cannot be returned. She is going to bring them plenty of poopy diapers, spilled milk, temper tantrums, and sleepless nights. But she will bring tons of joy, laughter, peace, and fulfillment. She is an earned blessing.

My very old parents (Come on, you know you're old :) have brought home THREE beautiful earned blessings. Three under three. The BLT ranch. The crazy house. Call it what you want, but most people tell me that my parents are amazing.... but nuts. And they are. Their house, which was once beautifully decorated with what some call "modern country", is now filled with plastic cars of multiple colors, play houses, a jungle gym, and even a bounce house. They never sleep or spend time alone. They don't get to go on dates or spend much time with friends. They can't even really talk much on the phone, because these children have sensors for phone conversation that cause them to yell louder when someone calls. Most of the time, I think they barely notice each other, because they're just trying to get by. Just surviving the day... hoping for enough sleep... only to do the same thing all over again when they wake up.

But again, this mad house is a blessing to anyone who walks through the door. These kids are hilarious, intelligent, brave, adorable, corky, sweet... but most of all, they are LOVED. They bring joy to their very tired parents, to their grandparents who almost didn't get to have little grandbabies, to aunts and uncles who won't have anymore children, but who love to babysit, to friends who love to watch the effort being made in the church balcony, to strangers who might have never thought twice about adoption but who can now imagine loving any child, and to big sisters who just love them because. They are earned blessings.

My husband is in Iraq. He started his deployment in May, went to training in North Carolina and California, and then headed over to a world that I know nothing about. I don't even know if I support what we are doing over there, mainly because I don't know much about it. And yet, since Aaron left, I see men (I'm not being sexist, just I've seen mainly men, and the one female was rude) in uniform all over the place. I've read books about what it's like to wait for a spouse at war. I just got done bawling over an episode of Army Wives. Ugh, the War on Terror is no longer only on CNN for me. It's everywhere.

I am trying really hard to stay positive. I am fine one day, and then the next, I am irritable, bitter, and sad sad sad. I try to spend time with friends and family, but I feel out of place, like I'm just biding time until I can go home and go to bed. I want to call every person I know and just cry, and then I feel like a huge baby, so I say "I'm fine". I act like I’m busy, but I’m actually only busy checking my phone for emails, texts, or calls from area code 999999999 or 0000123456.

I could complain for days and continue feeling sorry for my sad little self (LOL). But in reality, I am fine. And if my family has taught me anything, it’s that good things come with effort and persistence. Blessings may be a gift from God, but that does not mean He doesn’t expect us to earn our keeps. Aaron and I are blessed that we have a connection like none other, that our values align, that our families are supportive, that our goals don’t clash, and that our stubborn hearts won’t let us give up. It was easy to fall in love with Aaron when he was around. But I think he would agree that it has not been so easy to TRULY get to know each other… to TRULY prove our determination and faithfulness… to TRULY (Mr. Shelley would kill me for putting an adverb between “to” and all these verbs. Sorry, I just like it.) find humor and happiness in rough situations… to plan for future life events, but to claim and embrace the presence as it is…

Lord, thank you thank you thank you for this earned blessing.

Extravaganza

So I've written multiple times about my "dating extravaganzas". Eventually I will post those, because I still laugh out loud when I read them. But not tonight.

A few years ago, I ended my first REAL relationship, and it HURT badly. It was seriously as if someone died. One minute I was planning my future, white picket fence, chubby cheeked kids, 8-5 job, and who knows, maybe even some fish.

And the next I was packing my poochie Claire Francis in the front seat (along with the 1,000 items I had collected at his house... minus my precious seashells which he will still not give back) and we were on the road. I think I left him a note: "Call me if you want." For some reason, I have a ton of tolerance for people, how to approach them, how to say things politely, how to avoid hurt feelings... and then I just forget my manners. We spoke two times after that Saturday, and then basically never again. He has knocked on the door a few times, trying to forge a friendship of sorts, but honestly and sadly, when it was over, it was just OVER.

After the breakup, I started dating. I dated all sorts, had some fun times, had some TERRIBLE times, went through some DRAMATIC moments, some CATASTROPHES, a few embarassing bloopers, some very bruised egos, and lots of learned lessons.

My dating blog is a tad blunt... often a little too honest, and probably a bit inappropriate. But it was my life... I called it the "dating extravaganza", because to me, that's what it was.

Then I met Aaron. Pretty much since day #4 of knowing him (I would say day #3, but I really tried to avoid him for a week (which is actually 7 days). I liked the guy, but I was TOTALLY not done with my dating extravaganza, and he just made me a little too nervous... which makes me think I actually knew on day #1... so we'll just do a middle ground and call it day 4.), I knew my dating days were over. The extravaganza of "dudes" was no longer going to be a part of my plan. I knew that, for some reason, things were going to be a bit different from now on.

Aaron has changed my life. Like I said before, I have become an expert at pleasing people, making friends (not always good ones), and REALLY TRULY getting to know those around me. But I think that through this process, I have only learned a fraction about myself. I have made jokes, I have had temper tantrums, I have cried, I have fallen down hard, and I have picked myself back up again, over and over. And yet, through all of these very real experiences, I STILL don't think I have ever been all that true to myself.

The truth is that I am the extravaganza. According to my best friend, who we will call the "internet", the word extravaganza means "an elaborate, spectacular entertainment or display". This sounds like a pretty confident way of describing one's self, but in my case, it's just true. Let me explain:

"Elaborate" - In this setting, elaborate is used as an adjective, meaning "intricate or rich in detail, executed with painstaking attention". I will actually replace this word with my own self-created list of synonyms: corky, strange, high-maintenance, obsessive, needy, dramatic, pushy, opinionated, stubborn (jeez, I'm getting way off here.), etc. They aren't all really synonyms of elaborate, but they might as well be.

I am corky. My dog has a middle name, and I talk to her like she's a human. Because I really do think she speaks English. I do.

I am strange. I count all day long. Or type in my head. Or sing songs to words. Some sort of OCD that has never really gone away.

I am high-maintenance. I could care less about gifts, money, jewelry, or the normal things that lots of women want. But I have to be reminded constantly that I am loved. And even when I am, I sometimes ask for more. And not just loved, but liked. And wanted. And sometimes needed.

I am obsessive. I can have the messiest house in the whole world, and I don't care if my socks match. But I floss a minimum of three times a day. And if my skin is even the teeny tiniest bit dry, I will literally dump lotion all over my body because I cannot stand it.

I am needy. I don't ask for much, only that you pay me 110% attention, and think about me all the time, and call me whenever you can, and you know, attend to all my one million needs. LOL.

I am dramatic. I have a terrible temper, and God forbid I get my feelings hurt, you better be prepared to make things better or I can go on forever being angry. This characteristic scares me a lot.

I am pushy. Sometimes I really think I'm right, and even if I'm not, I'm probably going to at LEAST try to make you think I am.

I am opinionated. I was once at a dinner table where the other dinner attendees referred to me as the "dirty liberal". I will never vote conservative again. And by the way, I still put my two cents in at that table... Oops.

I am stubborn. Similar to the description above, when I think I am right, I have a hard time convincing myself to listen to what I'm being told. Even when I know I'm going down the wrong path, I pretty much have to learn the hard way or I'll just keep going and going and going...

"Spectacular entertainment or display" - This phrase is actually really intuitive to how I feel and have felt the majority of my life. Like I said, I am a people pleaser. I have always felt the need to impress, to pass, to fulfill obligations, to win, to succeed, or even just to survive.

I feel like times in my life I did a "spectacular" job with my "display". I've played all the parts: The good student. The friend. The rebel. The nerd. The fun girl looking for a party. The injured girl needing help. The vulnerable girl looking for a hero. The businesswoman. The difficult girl, full of attitude. The flirt. The playmate. The enemy. The independent one, needing nothing and no one.

I could name them off forever, but honestly, you name the part and I will play it.

I am an extravaganza... all by myself. I am sometimes one big mess. But I am who I am.

I started writing this a few weeks ago, and I'm sure I had some sort of funny story to tell with it. But tonight I am sad, and thoughtful about myself and where I am. I have met a man, who I think is wonderful, kind, loving, giving, smart, funny, protective, comforting, etc. etc. etc. He loves my little Claire Francis. He doesn't mind that I'm a bit OCD. He laughs at my mismatched socks and the crazy amount of floss lying around the house. He pays me all SORTS of attention, and shouts his love for me to the world (via Facebook of course, duh). He deals with my temper and assures me that he will still be here when I am done kicking and screaming. He lets me be bossy sometimes, but puts me in my place when I need it. He's just as stubborn as I am, but never enough to let me go.

And he is an extravaganza as well. He is just as complicated, just as needy, just as strange, just as opinionated, just as high-maintenance as I am. He is a people pleaser, never wanting to disappoint anyone. He's fearful of what other people think, just like I am. He makes his own way and his own decisions, whether they are good or bad, just like I do. He has lived and experienced, and probably had a few catastrophes, bloopers, bruised egos, dramatic events, and heartbreaks, just like I have.

And I love him so much. We are going to struggle. And fight. And butt heads. And lose tempers. And get irritated. But at the end of the day, I still never want to date again. I have no other boundaries to break. Or personalities to pick apart. Or dorky "dudes" to make fun of.

I met Aaron, and on day #4 I knew. I am okay.

Oh Yeah... I'm Engaged!

Uhm... So obviously I've been slacking for a good nine months... No, I did not crawl into a hole and sleep. Yes, I have had PLENTY of funny, akward, sad, happy, life changing, AMAZING things happen to me. And yet I have not written a THING down.

So maybe I'll give it just a tiny bit of effort. We'll just start with a "Top 5" and see where it goes from there:

1) I am getting married. In ONE WEEK. Yes, I said it. The girl that chooses guys who are a-holes, only so that she has NO chance of actually liking them, therefore avoiding any REAL pain. The girl who deletes people from her phone because they have a spout of bad breath. The girl that actually nicknames according to country of origin... not because she thinks it's cute, but because she can't ever seem to remember the current guy's name. LOL. That girl has met her match, and SHE'S GETTING MARRIED! I have plenty plenty plenty to say about this, so I'll let it wait until I'm feeling more creative juices. Let's just say I fell in love on day #4. He has been known to be an a-hole. He sometimes has very stinky breath. And he has the SAME name as me (would totally be a deal breaker in normal circumstances). But he's wonderful. I love love love him. Triple love. The love that makes my heart hurt. I am so happy.

2) My FIANCE is going to Iraq. What the f.

3) My parents adopted ANOTHER child. Friggin crazy stuff, I tell you. They never sleep. They have baby locks on EVERYTHING... locks that I can NEVER figure out. They constantly get puked on. They clean up toys all day long. They suffer kicks and hits and even bites. But their house is full of love and joy. So amazing to be a part of. I visit often these days, partly because my future husband is sweating away in the desert... and partly because I feel like I'm going to blink my eyes, and they'll be all grown up. I love my family.

4) My baby brother is having a baby (Obviously HE will not be the one doing the pushing, but his girlfriend Ali is having a little baby girl in September). I am happy and sad for them all at the same time. They are excited and doing their best. They have a gorgeous house. Ali takes immaculate care of herself and the baby. Sam does EVERYTHING in his power to make her happy and comfortable. But they are so young it just breaks my heart. They are bratty, and I get so mad at them I could cry... and then they do the most sweet, adult, wonderful things, and I'm crying again. I'm really struggling with this one. Wish I wasn't. I just pray pray pray they are okay.

5) Hmmmm... I kind of ran out of things I guess. I'm looking for a job at the moment. Decided I was going to be some lifesaving doctor... then decided that I hated Science classes (which I've actually known since Mr. Jungmeyer's dumb Biology class) and quit. Item #1 on my list has made me rethink my priorities just a tiny bit... and I don't regret it a second. So I'm back on the job market. Boring way to end my list lol.

More to come.

-Erin

NYC - No rabid rats and plenty of nice people.

I am always blabby, and I just accidentally erased my original New York City blog. Second time around is going to be even blabbier. So get ready. :)



New York City… the city where people never sleep… the city where since people do not sleep, they do not smile… the city where you DO NOT wave or talk to those sleepy people, because they will only glare at you or point out that you are obviously not from New York City… the city where human sized rats go roaming the streets, always ready to bite… remember, when you get bitten by one of those mutant rats, no one is going to help you because they’re obviously too tired and cranky… so anyways, once you do get bitten by a giant rat, you will be escorted to a very scary hospital where not only will you NOT get treated for your rat bite/rabies, but you will soon be injected with bad blood and disease… that is IF you make it to the hospital, because the evil cab driver taking you to the hospital will probably drive you down a dark alley and steal all your belongings and then sell you on the black market…

At least that’s what I’ve always heard.

I went to Brooklyn this week for a hospital conversion… I finished finals Monday afternoon and jumped on a plane, KNOWING that I was going to get glared at, bitten, injected, mugged, and sold. And yet, here I am… AMAZED at this city and humbled by the experience I’ve had.
You see, I am a small town girl from California, MO. Even though I’ve been in Kansas City for over 6 years, I still am most definitely that small town girl… petrified of the big city. For some reason, especially this one.



But I’m not scared anymore… only FULL of respect and awe. This place is WONDERFUL, for six very obvious reasons:

1) First, who came up with the idiotic phrase, “the city who doesn’t sleep”? I mean, who sleeps anyways? No one sleeps. I don’t sleep. I have too much going on… I ingest WAY too much caffeine… and I go to bed thinking about Chemistry (I mean cookies, yeah cookies.). Doesn’t matter where you live. I also stayed out too late several times this week, and I pretty much didn’t see too many people out and about. Does that mean they were sleeping? Hmmm, good thought.

2) I’m going to skip #2 for now, because it’s my climax, and I would ruin my whole happy thought if I explained it now.


3) Those rats must not be out in December because I saw none. Only dogs on leashes, well groomed, smelling much better than Claire Francis, sitting quietly and well behaved. Seriously, people take these dogs everywhere in New York City. I saw dogs in grocery stores, banks, and bars. Strange but awesome. ADDITIONALLY, I always thought those rats would come with lots of trash and smelliness. And yes, I saw trash, lots and lots of trash. But it wasn’t spread out all over the streets. It wasn’t rotting and oozing on the sidewalks. It was piled neatly in specific areas along the streets, waiting for the garbage man. Someone has cleaned that city up. Very cool.





4) Nothing really funny to say about the hospital, except for the fact that I was most definitely not scared of bad blood. The hospital I spent time in was full of old wise doctors, young smart attendees, fresh students, and patients patients patients. This hospital had doctors that saw 50+ patients a day. It was clean and well run. Inspiring really.


5) When I left the airport, I expected to get into another dirty cab. I don’t mind cabs, but they’re definitely not my favorite part of the trip. So when I got the message from Louise, my private driver, I was amazed! Mr. Louise, who forced me to speak Spanish the entire drive, had a beautiful, leather seated, yummy smelling car. And he drove slow. And he didn’t stop and go the whole time. And I didn’t get carsick. And instead of just overcharging me and kicking me to the curb… he scheduled my ride back to the airport (I would pay him later), opened my door, hauled my bags out of the trunk, and kissed me on the cheek. I left with all my belongings, and I did NOT get sold to any black market.

6) So back to #2… The whole nice people thing. I could seriously make a new list for all the nice people I encountered on this trip. People went OUT OF THEIR WAY to help me this week. I have no idea why… definitely did not do anything special to myself… my roots are growing out, my nail polish is totally cracking off… I forgot my pair of dress pants, so my outfit totally does not match today… I didn’t even work that hard. And still people were almost overly nice.

a. The hotel I stayed in put me on a list to get me a better room, JUST because my room was too close to the breakfast room. They not only transferred my room, but hauled all my luggage for me and left me cookies on my bed. (Just kidding about the cookies. I bought them in the vending machine. But it sounded good, and the room change was still nice.)

b. Some random guy on the Subway asked us where we were going… obviously we looked like we had no idea where we were going… I thought he was badgering us and then he gave us the exact route to get there and what we needed to see once we reached our destination. So nice.

c. ALL my taxi drivers were nice. But Louise is still my favorite. :)


d. No one at the hospital yelled at me or told me how bad I suck. Totally not what I’m use to with my lovely job.

e. A bus driver, who was NOT supposed to pick me up… asked me where and when I was going and just let me hop in, even though it was out of his way. Thank you, Mr. for not making me stand in the rain.




f. One taxi driver DID glare at me a little bit… as he drove by while I waited on the curb in the rain. I waved, because I thought he was going to be like every other kind New Yorker… and then he just drove by and left me. And THEN he ran over the curb and popped his tire. New York karma is a real b*tch.

g. MULTIPLE people asked Mr. Schaffter and I if they could take our picture at Rockefeller Center. At least they thought they were being nice… little did they know they were causing the Erin/Bryce Awkward Moment #2,796.

h. I actually saw a guy propose to his girlfriend on the ice skating rink. Obviously that had nothing to do with me. But so sweet.

i. Some guy called me Santa Claus. I don’t know why. I had an orange sweater on, and I actually looked kind of nice. Bryce told me he was calling me Mrs. Claus, and that she was a good looking lady in her prime. Whatever. Maybe he just meant I was merry. Which is nice, I suppose.

j. My FINAL impression of New York City came when I lost my FRIGGIN driver’s license at the airport. Not only did the ticket guy print off a ticket that would get me on the plane WITHOUT my driver’s license (Yes, apparently they can do that. There goes security.), but the police officer I reported the incident too was the nicest guy of all time (YES, there are nice police officers out there! And he didn’t even say anything inappropriate or disgusting!). He comforted me and told me everything was okay. He patiently wrote down all my information. He called lost and found as well as all the officers near the gates. And FINALLY, he WALKED me to the nearby bar, tracked down both the bartender and manager, and VOUGED for my age and identification so that I could get a beer. Pretty much never heard of a police officer TELLING a bartender to serve alcohol to someone… ESPECIALLY someone who does not have a license. LOL (See I told you I LOL all over the place).

k. And lastly, the guy who gave me the ticket earlier hand delivered my driver’s license and I got all flustered, which is why I accidentally erased the original New York City blog. I LOVE THIS CITY.