Five Years Down

Saturday was our fifth anniversary.  Nuts right? I still glance at him from time to time and think, "That is my husband.  I am seriously a wife.  Crazy.  How am I not still 17?"  To say it takes a bit for things to sink for me is a massive understatement.  I surprised him with a new acoustic (that he's been wanting) and he appropriately surprised me with diamonds (in necklace form).  We had planned on going to Chicago for a long weekend but with our impending move and never having a free weekend, like..ever, we decided on dinner and a (sorta) shopping spree at Somerset.  And yeah, by shopping spree I mean we bought more than one thing off clearance racks in the cheapest stores in the mall, and if that doesn't make you jealous, most of it was for our dang kids.  Not jealous yet?  What if I tell ya we snagged groceries on the way, picked up the bubbas from the sitter's and made it home by thee unGodly hour of 9:30?  Wild, I know.  And yes, an absolutely perfect night in my eyes.
  
Anniversaries always encourage me to remember our wedding; zero nerves, just total excitement..we could have been married in the parking lot of Home Depot and I'd have been game.  I was total bridechilla and was way more pumped for the after after party (eww, that's not what I mean, I'm referring to married life in general) than the actual ceremony/reception.  There's a highlight reel that I replay when recalling the day, that always includes- the insane joy I felt as I linked arms with my dad and took my first steps down the aisle, the most Christ-like person I've ever known (my childhood pastor) making a sex joke when giving our charge (something close to, "And even tonight, you should kneel at your bed and thank God for what you're about to receive." yep, it happened), and my brother in law, Raul, giving a toast that started with laughter as he described how Ricardo and I have no insecurity issues, and ended with tears as he talked about cherishing the time we have together (he'd lost his wife a month, to the day, earlier).
  When I flip through wedding photos I can't help but want to tell 21 year old, about to be wed, Emily Krawczynski how hard marriage really is, how much she'll fight the first year, how many holes will be in the condo walls, how getting pregnant three months in will add a whole new level to crazy town, and how many times she'll attempt to sleep on the couch.  But I'd also tell her that it would be totally worth it, that God knew exactly what He was doing putting two opposite personalities together to balance the extremes out just right.  Five years in and there are moments when I can barely stand being in the same room with Ricardo, but there are so many more where I try to figure out why God blessed me so huge by making me his wife.

Wisdom Thoughts

  Recently I was thrown in an awkward situation where common sense told me one thing, my heart pleaded another, and my brain had it's own plan..basically I was stuck in the middle of internal chaos (which isn't my forte- I love to have biz under control) and begged God to give me wisdom.  The discernment came, but with a price tag of repeated drama, second guessing, and a sort of lonely sorrow (which is so foreign to me)- because it wasn't something I felt I could fully explain to really anyone without getting advice or even judgement.  It wasn't fun and while now I'm on the other side of it all, I see clearly how God used it to show me more of Himself, the side that is constant and true and omniscient.  Nobody on the planet knew what was on my heart- but Him, because He placed it there.  It was oddly therapeutic to be in those moments with God, where He got me and even if He was the only one, it was enough.  In the midst of it all, chilling all melancholy with my maker, I kept asking (knowing I was being obedient) my place in the battle (that was much bigger and more tragic than my measly little involvement) and what I was supposed to take away from it all.  The many verses on wisdom in Proverbs cycled through my mind and I rested in the peace of knowing I feared His thoughts of me more than people I loved and respected dearly.  I felt Him wrap me in Himself and whisper in the depth of my spirit, "Wisdom is about choosing My voice over all of the others, My opinion over all of the emotions, and My plan over what would be easiest."  Humbling right?
  I've always put wisdom on a lofty pedestal (where it absolutely belongs) but I feel like I'm at a point  where God is urging me to chase, pursue, and cherish it like mad.  Probably because this sassy stay at home momma who can be a loud mouthed know it all is a long way from being labeled "wise."    I want to be a lady whose words are always laced with wisdom, because I'm so in tune with God's voice that the other opinions and expectations, especially my own, are but mere whispers..who fights for truth even if it means getting my hands dirty..and who is never ever apathetic in the pursuit of true knowledge, which is only found in knowing Him more.


Fear of the LORD is the foundation of wisdom.
Knowledge of the Holy One results in good judgment. Proverbs 9:10

Embracing the Camera: Saturday

We've been busy up in here, and by busy I mean spending every spare second that the Papi is home looking at houses. The poor bubbas have spent the last few weeks strapped in their car seats for hours as we drive around and sadly most of their dinners have been eaten in them as well. But this Saturday between Roc's soccer in the morning and worship band practice at night, all four of us squeezed into our queen size bed popped in The Muppets, and snuggled the heck out of each other (well except when we were yelling at the kids to quit kicking, shoving, and moving in general). It was simple goodness and a perfect Saturday afternoon in my book.

Lately

I'm feeling...  Anxious, because of the whole not having our own place after May 27th deal.  We have a gracious friend's basement to sleep in while we're in limbo (which we're super thankful for), but the excitement of living with friends only lasts so long.  Me being the chica who likes things in their place, organized, and to have my own space to unwind in...this will def be a challenge for me if living out of boxes and suitcases in somebody else's home lasts more than a week or two.  Confused too, I guess I expected for this home buying process to be much less time consuming and disappointing (six weeks and six bids turned down).  I know God has a plan and a house, just curious of His time frame.  On the way to church the other day Roc asked all melancholy from the backseat, "Momma why is it taking us so long to get a new house?" and all I could say twice as melancholy back was, "I dunno bubba, I guess God hasn't showed it to us yet."

I'm anticipating...  A place to call home.  And for my sis in law Alyssa to pop out my first niece, Alexis!

I'm loving...  That summer is so close; walks, swimming, tanned skin, and shorts, oh warmth and sunshine we need you around here to spice things up quite badly.

I'm contemplating...  Changing up the way I eat, I def need more energy and nutrients in my day to day, I'd never let my boys get away with the crap I eat.  Please don't mention salads, we're big time enemies.  (If anyone has any recipes or suggestions, help a sister out in the comment section.)

I'm working on...  Saying "yes" more to my bubbas, instead of putting cleaning and my own selfish wants before snuggling/playing with them.

I'm wanting...  A pretty new summer wardrobe.  And a vacation too, even if it's one night in a hotel room bed, shades closed, watching HGTV.  Yes, pllllease.

The Hair Cut

A chunk of Romi's luxurious hair lays at the bottom of the bathroom trash and an awkward bald spot moved in where it used to grow. Bald isn't always beautiful, not even on that handsome bubba. But when I walked in on him trimmer in hand with a huge smile of accomplishment beaming across his face and the dusting of hair covering his toes, I just couldn't even be mad.  Laughter and a photo opp took over before any anger had the chance, I mean cutting your own hair is a rite of passage, right? I remember when I was about four, my mom was on the phone in the kitchen (tethered to the room of course because cordless and cell phones were yet to be affordable) and I was just happily eating my licorice when I noticed her hair cutting scissors on the bathroom counter. One thing led to another and cutting up licorice escalated to chopping off my hair and when, full of pride, I showed my mom the bang up job I did, well apparently she didn't agree.
  These are the moments I love to be able to chronicle here. A moment that in 30 years when my Rome Sicle Pickle calls me (and heck yes I'll still be calling my 32 year old son that) and says "Oh mom you'll never guess what _____ did today when I was taking out the trash!"  I will laugh and retell the story of his own try at giving himself a trim and say "He's just like his daddy."  And hours after we hang up the phone, and I'm wishing my bubbas were still little and cuddled up in their rooms down the hall, I'll come here and relive today myself, and try to remember every.last .detail, down to the raspberries Roc and Romi took turns blowing on each others bellies minutes later, though perhaps I'll try to forget that directly after the raspberries came early naps for one wildly impulsive boy and his crabby (partly bald) little bro. :)

Roc = Four

Roc,
  you kill me.  Everything about you oozes passion (we're trying to channel your intensity to be solely positive and productive instead of, lets just say..overwhelming :).  And that passion breeds your drive and determination, (you don't just love super heros you are one, you don't just mess around at soccer practice like most of the kids, your eyes are glued to the coach and your every move is calculated and precise) when you're all in, you're all in.  I truly have no doubt that whatever you set your mind to you'll accomplish, just remember that abundant passion you possess is a gift, spread it around and use it in a way that points others to Jesus.
  Kid you're so smart, while we were eating lunch out the other day you spotted a cracker and said "Look that's in the shape of a hexagon."  I mean seriously, I had to ask daddy if you were right 'cause I wasn't even sure.  Another time we visited daddy's work (which you were beyond pumped about) and while you were drawing an elaborate picture on his dry erase board in his office you said, "Now I just need to incorporate my name into the picture." And dang it bubba, you did.  You might need to slow down smarty pants 'cause the rate you're going, I will not able to help with your homework by like, first grade.
  Can we talk about how insanely similar you are to your paps?  I mean honestly I roll my eyes at the two of you on a regular basis, clones I tell ya. You're so freaky alike that honestly momma doesn't fret about the kind of man you'll grow to be because I picture you growing up to be the ambitious, easy going, helpful, tust worthy, confident man your daddy already is.  I'm sure you take this as the biggest compliment ever, being the daddy's boy that you are, and really you should. I mean I picked him out of all the papi's in the world, so he must have something going for him. The two of you handsomes are two in a million gazillion.
  You're growing up on me Roc, so terrifyingly fast that there are days where I can barely stand not being able to freeze time.  I remember when I laid eyes on you seconds after you were born, angels could have been singing, it was so sweet and you were so perfect, and the instant irrational love that bonded me to you...forget about it, you had me at first breath.  I'm so proud to have you as my first born son, you bring me so much joy, happy fourth bubs!

Love YOU "more-der,"

Momma

Embrace the Camera & Romi's 2nd

This picture was taken Easter weekend at Grammy and Papa's right before we headed to Grandma Great's old yellow house to eat our weight in insane apple salad and mashed potatoes.  Love that even after my grandparents have been gone for years their kids drive from all over to be together for the holidays.  Anyway looking at this picture made it sink in a little that my Corleone is two.  Aren't his squinty little eyes, bushy brows, and thick hair just dreamy?
  While I was dwelling in a Romi love fest, I scrolled through some photos from his birthday and had to post a few.  His bday was a blast, we invited his buddies over for an informal lunch play date, served his favorite meal- corn dogs, veggie straws, cantaloupe, and "chuckcakes" in cones (yes, he has very sophisticated taste buds), and because it was a crazy unseasonable (for March 21st) 82 degrees, the kiddies got to strip down and run through his new sprinkler.  After he took a much needed nap and I cleaned sand box sand out of his every crevice, we headed out for pizza and then he got to blow out another candle, since Papi missed the first one (I'm guessing he wished for the hot weather to vanish, 'cause that it did like two stankin' days later; punk kid).  It was a simply sweet day, filled with the people and things he loves most.  Oh, my Romesicle Pickle, I love that bubba big time, even more than funfetti cupcakes baked in cones with coffee laced icing.  And that my friends is obviously, a lot.

Moving On

Source

  For the last couple months Paps and I have been waiting for things to fall into place ("things" of course meaning, money) to buy our own pad in Mount Clemens.  Our landlord emailed us a few days ago, letting us know he'd like us out in six weeks, so he can kick selling the house we're in, into high gear.  Umm...okay.  We've known the day was fast approaching where we'd be packing up and rolling out, we just kinda figured hoped we'd be rolling onto the front stoop of a historic Georgian colonial on a disgustingly adorable street just blocks from downtown, that we bought for ridic cheap with no hitches.  Or something like that.
  The money has trickled in, but the housing market in the Clem (for what we're looking for) isn't just sparse, it is non-existent.  There is an over abundance of houses that're too small or need an insane amount of reno, in not so lovely neighborhoods, and a few beauties out of our ballpark.  Are we being picky?  Absolutely-ish, we're signing our next 30 years away, determining who our kids will grow up next to, and laying down some heavy roots that we don't want to ever pull up.  We're looking for our forever home in the city that we've felt God beckoning us to since we were dating.  Four point two square miles of city that in order for us to live out what we feel called to, we need to find our place in.  I love the Clem, every nook and cranny is diverse, aged, raw beauty to me, and as far back as I can recall I've always imagined me living in that type of vibe.  But with fostering and a growing family on the horizon there are a few nonnegotiables on our wish list and without extra green (after down payment and closing costs) to spend on a fixer upper, the search hasn't been an easy one.
  I've lived in five different houses in six years, while the first 20 were spent in one.  I'm over moving.  And though the places we've rented have been cozy blessings, I want to be able to re-tile the back splash or paint my front door yellow without having to ask someone else's permission.  I want my kids hand prints to be cemented in the driveway, so in 30 years our grandbabies can put their own chubby fingers over where their parents once laid.  Dang it, we don't want to have to shell more out in rent than we would pay to own a much nicer house.  And one more time for good measure...I'm so over moving.
  But all that being said, we're up for anything that God throws on our plate.  Momma will deal if I have to decorate a new place if only for a year; there are def bigger tragedies.  I know God, and I know settling for anything outside of His will for our life (aka: Mount Clemens) will be exactly that; settling.  Six weeks is a cray cray window to buy or perhaps rent a casa, but seeing as God created uhh, the entire world in six days, I don't have a single doubt that He has this, because He has us.

Embrace the Camera: Easter Sunday

Shut up!..this picture pretty much sums up all three of my boys' personalities.  Stinking priceless.

I managed to wear a dress, heels and put my contacts in, obviously a picture needed to be taken.  The fact that Romi looks like he hates life, Rocky is apparently yelling "cheeeese!" to the floor (with light saber in tow), and my head isn't cocked enough to down play my wide load of a nose...well, it was a long Easter weekend, cut a sista some slack.  

The idea that a virgin would be selected by God to bear Himself...

The notion that God would don a scalp and toes and two eyes...

The thought that the King of the universe would sneeze and burp and get bit by mosquitos...

It's too incredible.  Too revolutionary.

We would never create such a Savior.

We aren't that daring...

In our wildest imaginations we wouldn't conjure

a king who becomes one of us.

But God did.  God did what we wouldn't dare dream.

He did what we couldn't imagine.

He became a man so we could trust Him.

He became a sacrifice so we could know Him.

And He defeated death so we could follow Him.

Max Lucado

Empty Tomb

Now that the bubbas are getting older, I've been trying to more creatively sneak the Bible in them.  I tend to lose sight of the privilege it is to raise them with a strong foundation.  And the Word; there isn't anything more secure that I'd want them to build their lives on.  I can live my life right and hope that it inspires them to love Jesus too, but when I'm not there to set them straight or worse, when they see my faults sin (which is sadly a regular occurrence), I want them not to waiver, because they have their own personal, unshakable faith and the Truth hidden in their hearts.  Anyway, Pinterest has helped me big time in this area..(if you think you're crazy creative, check out Pinterest and you'll see that basically everything you've ever thought up has already been created, 10x better than you could have done it and some how there's Mod Podge and a mason jar incorporated in it).  True story.  I'm getting there people...Empty Tomb Rolls- genius.  The rolls involve five ingredients (all of which represent a part of the Easter story) and basically taste like an inside out cinnamon roll.  I repinned the recipe from this site, so check that out if you want details on making your own.  Ridiculous easy, crazy good, and most importantly so fun and helpful for pounding the Easter story into the little souls in your life.  The tomb is empty people, OUR SAVIOR LIVES!









PS- Check out two year old Roc's version of the Easter story, from last year.

Pastor J and Maggie

I have many people in my life who make my mustard seed sized faith grow, just by living their lives.  One couple in particular...they have a marriage like few I've seen, raise their kids to be satisfied with nothing less than excellence, are some of the most generous souls I've come across, take the Bible at it's word and live it unapologetically, and are a dang good time.  In the six years I've known them, I've marveled at their resolve as I've watched from the sidelines as they've battled different situations, situations I can't imagine handling, with boundless integrity and courage.  They not only stand for the Truth, but I've seen them fight for it, putting their very reputations on the line to see wrongs righted.  They don't just "keep the peace" because that's most comfortable, they pursue it, and are peacemakers.  Basically, they're modern day saints, but I guess they aren't Catholic and he wears jeans to church (pretty sure that isn't something a saint could get a way with, I mean right?).       
Watching them go through their latest drama, hurting for them, praying my brains out for them; God has given me peace when I want to be frustrated with Him for allowing them to go through something else this challenging...peace in knowing nothing happens on accident, that they're in His hands. I keep asking myself, "If I'm watching their lives so closely, how many more must be?"  Their biggest fans, their biggest haters, and all of the bystanders in between, watching imperfect beings sold out to obedience and their God who always brings them out on the other side, stronger and looking even more like Jesus.  I'm blessed to know them.  I'm blessed to serve under them as my Pastors.  And I'm especially proud to call them friends.

Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him. James 1:12

Two Years

Romesicle,

  how is it possible that you're two today?  I barely remember life before you and at the same time it feels like it could have been yesterday that you arrived.  You'll understand when you become a daddy; parenthood gets you drunk on nostalgia big time.  In just the last year you've grown so much, I can't imagine what's to come in the many years ahead.  You only want to talk when it's necessary (thinking before you speak..you def didn't learn that from your momma) , I attribute it to your thoughtful/serious side, and I love that so dearly about you.  People often comment on your "maturity," which always makes me laugh, but I totally get it.  It's your independence, little masculine face, and the depth behind your muddy eyes.  From the very beginning we've called you the Corleone (or Romi Corleoni), because you were born with a manly swagger about you, even as a newborn, I just can't explain it.  But beneath all that there's such a sweet and silly bubba, who loves to laugh, dance, wrestle Roc, love on the endless babies our friends bring through our doors, obsess over vacuum cleaners, color; you love a good time.  You're serious with a big side of care free and I wouldn't change a thing about you (except maybe the occasional tantrums:).
  Two is gonna be a ball bubba, it'll be a year where we work some toddler out and preschooler in.  I won't pretend there won't be spankings, time outs, and tears (on both ends), but Rome it'll be worth it and hopefully we'll both make it out on the other side of three all in one piece.  I've loved all 730 days of being your momma and have thanked God at least that many times for choosing me to get the privilege of parenting you.  Inside out you're my bubba, and that my pickle, will never ever change- you're stuck with this momma.  Happy second birthday Roman Atticus, these last two years have been the best of my life. :)

                                                   Momma

Ricardo y Ricardo II

The apple didn't fall far from the tree when it comes to Ricardo and Roc.  Their personalities are insanely similar and they love all the same things (80s cartoons, superheros, Michael Jackson, cuddling to an unhealthy level, looking at themselves in the mirror...).  Carbon copies I tell ya, it's border line sick.  The fact that Roc's given name is Ricardo II doesn't even explain the depth of their likeness.  I've yet to meet a son who loves and idolizes his papi so fiercely.  Of course he likes to snuggle and tell me how much he loves me, but quite often he lets me know, that he loves his dada just a little bit more.  I usually laugh in response (no jealousy here); to see my boy grow into the man his paps is, is reward enough for this momma.  And besides I'm sure when the Romesicle starts putting sentences together he'll tell his dada, "I love you, but I love momma just a little bit more." ;)

While They Are Sleeping

  I'm a crazy lover of balance and my world doesn't function smoothly if a sliver of my day doesn't involve me sitting in pin drop silence reading, writing, talking to Jesus, or just thinking.  I need head clearing time.  I love orderliness in every arena of my life and my mind certainly is included in that.  Don't get me wrong, I love my bubbas, and I adore being surrounded by people and excitement, but this momma needs a few minutes to myself every day.  The quiet moments are when I relax and reflect on how blessed I am; I take a a few deep breathes and a few more sips of coffee and thank God for the calm in the storm of daily life.
  Nap time is usually prime time for me time.  The laundry, clean-ting, and whatever else needs to be done is almost always checked off my mental list by two o'clock when I start tucking bubbas in.  Then it's just my long awaited cup of coffee (I pretty much hold off all day until naps to drink it, one because it's usually the first time I sit down, and two because it gives me something to look forward to.  Yep, I bribe myself, and it works!) whatever I can scrounge up for lunch (most often, a bagel), and absolute peace.
  This period of time is my sweet spot of the day; it's there, sitting Indian style on the left side of our worn leather couch, coffee at my side, where I can exhale, gather my thoughts, and feel overwhelmingly thankful for the ins and outs of life.  Ins and out, that in the hustle and monotony of my everyday, could be quickly forgotten or blown out of proportion.  Me and this overloaded mind, we need our little regroup, some time to gain perspective.  There are mommas I'm sure who can function in the chaos that is toddlerhood 24/7, but Lord knows, that ain't me.  My sanity runs on my "be still time"...and lets be real, coffee. :)

Be still and know that I am God.. 

Psalm 46:10

Created To

     worship [wur-ship]

1.	to show profound religious devotion and respect to  ;adore or venerate (God or any person or thing considereddivine)
2.	to be devoted to and full of admiration for
3.	to have or express feelings of profound adoration

  God has been bringing me back to the basics and dusting (wait, dusting sounds too easy, more like, chiseling) off all the unnecessary excess that loves to cloud up my (should be- God centered) perspective.  It's been like an inventory of thoughts, perceptions, and heart motives around here and friends, I'd look away because things are not pretty deep down inside this momma.  Reevaluating has shown me that a lot of the ugly lurking deep inside (and consequently leaking out) stems from my focus being on my puny self and my minuscule world instead of God's big picture.  Long story short, I do me really really well, and get so wrapped up in Emily Kate that I tend to lose sight of my eternal purpose.  Anyway now that you're concerned for my soul (believe me I'm always working out my faith Philippians 2:12 style, so I don't blame you) let me rewind to the one-liner God used to set this self assessment in place.
  It was a Sunday morn, I was pumped to sing songs I love, surrounded by people I love, drinking coffee I love and I was so perky (which generally isn't my disposition) that as worship began I rhetorically asked God, something to the affect of "Why do I love worship so much?".  Instantly I got the answer I wasn't waiting for, "Because that's what you were created for."  I heard a hint of hurt, maybe even disappointment in His unwavering voice, and cringed at what an idiot I'd become.  Sorrow filled repentance took over, followed by soul bared worship, and since, those seven words have been stuck on repeat in my mind.  Only God can throw down one simple sentence and leave you reassessing your whole dang life.
  It's scary how easy it is (even if innocently) for me to lose focus.  I wasn't created to do pinterest crafts, make sure my house is spotless, train up my bubbas, mentor, or write blog posts, (though I'm so grateful I get to) I was created to worship Him in everything.  All of those blessings I let become distractions instead of ways to glorify Him, forgetting all God has entrusted and gifted me with are really meant as avenues to worship Him in.  It's hard to be in complete adoration of an awesome God when my inflexible daily routine and cozy little life doesn't allow Him much space to move and my attitude usually projects, "I got this God, I'll let ya know when I need your help."  If our lives are abundant with worship it's near impossible to lose focus, to lose perspective, or to need a reminder from God that worship is so much more than a song.
  In trying to bring this dear diary of a post full circle (you deserve a brownie for sticking with me..unfortunately for you, I don't bake much), this past Sunday comes to mind.  I got the privilege to join our worship band in our beautiful new (to us) gym/sanctuary and help lead our church in praise.  I felt myself begin to be distracted by the less than perfect sound system, the staring crowd, the fact that one of the songs and my range aren't friends, and then I remembered my purpose and from there on out it was just me, Jesus, and the bass vibrations rumbling beneath my feet.  Straight up heavenly.  And another reminder, that when I know what I was created for, it's hard to lose sight of my Creator.

Wordless(ish) Wednesday

This pickle, he's gonna be two in just a few weeks.  I know, I can't believe it either.  The age Rome is right now is how old Roc was when he became his big brother. Trippy. If my grand life plan had come true I'd be popping out number three any day now (and if Ric's had I'd probably be popping out our sixth; he's cray cray people).  Thank Jesus I wised up and threw an extra year or so in between, these bubbas wear a momma out!  It's nuts to me that my Romesicle won't always be my baby, though I'm fairly certain he'll be my most stubborn and for always my only Corleoni.  I love every inch of this snot nosed, pensive yet goofy bubba.  Don't judge me if I pretend he's one for a few years, 'cause years two and three, I wouldn't mind passing on. ;)

Twenty Six

  Twenty six is such a forgettable, wallflower of a number.  But now it defines the years I've been a living soul and though there are sure to be many moments where I still feel 16 and a few mixed in where I might relate best to 62...26 just feels right.  As good as my last year was and as much as I feel like God worked some kinks out (ask Ric, God surely ain't done with me yet), I'm only four days in and I know with all the transition (think: new house, new church community, fostering, possible pregnancy, whatev else God wants to throw in) this year of my life is gonna enter crazy town status, good, red letter kinda crazy town.  Buckle up 26, things are about to get a little interesting.

  The days surrounding my birthday made it unquestionably the most festive one to date.  Starting out with a birthday dinner with the ladies at PF Chang's (thanks Alyssa for throwing it together even though I tried talking you out of it; total blast), a much needed Rita Springer concert followed by a valuable conversation filled dinner, even Fat Tuesday happened to fall on my day (being that I looove donuts and happen to be quite Polish, this was a bonus),  a lunch date and adorable handmade gifts from my accountability mommas, a beeeeautiful Guess purse from the Papi and a night in for my cold ridden self, and the finale and icing on my birthday cake, getting inked- group style.
  The texts, and calls, and cards, and gifts, and quality time, and plain sweet thoughtfulness were truly overwhelming.  Numerous times this week I've found myself feeling overcome with awe at the vast amount of incredible people in my life who truly give a crap.  I'm not into making a big whup over my birthday (or pretty much anything), but to have people celebrate you despite you, and awkwardly force their excitement upon you is endearing, and to my shock, occasionally needed.  Thanks friends and fam for loving me, I'm confused why you do so intensely, but very grateful.  Your presence in my life is absolutely presents enough. :)