Me and You against the world

My husband is the most stubborn male on the planet.

And I'm the most stubborn female.

Of course when we were dating we fooled each other into thinking we were the coolest, funniest, most chill people. We were both in shock when we found out how headstrong and deadset the other was.

There have been times when I've thrown my hands out, looked up at the sky and said, "WHAT were you thinking?" Because this had to be the most fiesty, fiery matchup ever made. But I never questioned if it was right. I knew what I'd felt when we were talking about marriage and I trusted that God knew what was best for me.

So yesterday Husband and I decided to go running. It was so nice to throw on our running shoes, leave the kids playing outside and never have to leave our own land. I slipped in my earbuds and he did the same (only because I can't talk when I'm running. I can't even breathe). He looked over at me, smiled and tipped his head to signal we should start.

Here's the thing about Husband. He can up and run six miles even if the last time he ran was a year ago. I'm lucky to push out two miles with occasional breaks, no matter if I went yesterday. Proven fact: His lungs are twice the size of a normal guy. Mine are average, but one quarter of mine traps air in, which means I can't push the air back out so that I can take another deep breathe. It's kind of hilarious. I spend half the 'run' with my head between my knees.

I'd pushed shuffle on my phone, not feeling too picky and wanting to see what song the universe chose for me. You have to know that my phone is full of church music, country, and teeny bopper tunes. It's hard to find a pump it up song in the mix.

So this song from the Nickelodeon made for tv movie Rags came on. And I let it stay. And then I fell in step behind husband and told myself I wasn't going to think about every breathe I took. I listened to the song and before I knew it we'd run half a mile. When we got to our 'track'—a huge field with a swath of grass cut out around the edge—I told myself to just keep watching his feet. If I could keep up with those feet then I could do this.

As I'm running, watching his feet move up and down, I had this montage of memories flood me. The song I was listening to is sorta cheesy in the movie, but it was perfect for me at that moment.

Put your heart in it.
You can go the distance.
Me And You Against The World.
Sky is the limit.
Push to the finish.
Me And You Against The World.
We did it for love.
We tried and we won.
We'll never give up.
It's Me And You Against The World.

We fight together.
We're down forever.
Me And You Against The World.
We stick together and it gets better.
Me And You Against The World.

And I was thinking about all the times our stubborness pulled us through something really hard.

A miscarriage. Two healthy pregnancies and deliveries. Getting Husband a job as a firefighter. Him working full-time and going to school full-time. Another baby. Packing it up and leaving the farm so we could go to vet school. Vet school itself. Me lying on the bathroom floor hemorraging as he says, "Don't you dare pass out on me." Giving birth to our sixteen-week-old baby and hemorraging again at the hospital. Waking up from emergency surgery to see a hose of blood being pumped into my arm and then looking up to see him standing over me. He talked the nurses into sneaking him into the operating room so he could be there when I woke. Him digging the grave to bury the baby with tears streaming down his face. A year later Him standing by my bed as I suffered eleven hours of epidural free labor delivering a gorgeous baby girl. His graduation. Crying on the phone with me when I told him my dad has passed away. Him being a pall-bearer at the funeral. Packing our house in Christiansburg and unpacking in Buckingham. It was a day from Hell. No electricity in one hundred degree weather. And yesterday as he and I jammed to music while we painted his vet clinic.

The thing is, those two stubborn, headstrong kids that got married? They don't exist anymore. What's left in their place are two much more mellow, kind, easy going people. I like who we are now. No. I LOVE who we are now. 

Sometimes I go on farm calls with Husband just for fun. Or we take a walk or a four-wheeler ride. Or I get my pants beat in Ticket to Ride. I'm his secretary and I've resigned myself to that. And I'm actually finding joy in doing this job that will further his career. My heart is overflowing as I finally learn that serving the man who has never left my side, even when things were downright ugly, brings me the best kind of peace.

He doesn't give up on me, no matter what. And I can't give up on him either. God could see that in us even when I couldn't.

So Bry—as long as your feet move up and down, I'll be right there with you.

The Little Things

Oldest Daughter and I have sort of fallen in love with One Direction. Those boys are charming, and cute, and funny and most importantly they can sing. Boy can they sing.

They have this song called Little Things.

It starts like this:

Your hand fits in mine like it's made just for me 
But bear this mind it was meant to be 
And I'm joining up the dots with the freckles on your cheeks
And it all makes sense to me...

And then it goes on talking about how she doesn't like the crinkles around her eyes, or her stomach or her thighs... It's meant to be a love song, and I love that about it, but it makes me think about life too. All the little things that make life good.

Like catching Husband on a day when he's shaved, and he lets me rub my cheek against his.

Or when Oldest Son is describing something he's really into, and I can admire his handsome face without making him too uncomfortable.

Or When Oldest Daughter smiles at me with that dimple that I want to poke my finger in, or stares up at me with her vulnerable clear blue eyes.

Or when Youngest Son does his goofy dance where he shakes his rear and points up and then down over and over again.

Gordon B. Hinckley left behind one of my favorite quotes...

“Anyone who imagines that bliss is normal is going to waste a lot of time running around shouting that he’s been robbed. The fact is that most putts don’t drop, most beef is tough, most children grow up to just be people, most successful marriages require a high degree of mutual toleration, most jobs are more often dull than otherwise. Life is like an old time rail journey…delays…sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling burst of speed. The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride.”

Tonight I took Oldest Daughter and two of her friends to see Wreck It Ralph at the dollar theater. She and her friends sat in a three seat row, while Big Girl (4 years old) and I sat in front of them. OD and her friends were chatting and eating their popcorn while the previews rolled. And BG looked over at me with a huge smile and said, "Mommy, you're my best friend." And then she laid her head on my shoulder. My heart was a puddle in my lap.

We have these huge, amazing moments like getting our first book published, or graduating with a graduate degree. We live, dream and work for those moments. But they're over so fast and then we're back to the grind. 

So in between we have to remember...it's all about the little things.

Handwritten

I ran across something yesterday that had my dad's name on it, written in his own handwriting. And it hit me right in my chest. One of my friends whose dad passed away a couple of years ago warned me that I would have these kinds of moments—where'd I see something in the most random place that reminded me of him and it would stop me in my tracks.

I think the strangest thing to grasp about death is how life goes on. Nothing really changes when someone you love dies. The house still gets dirty, the kids still have homework, dinner still needs to be made, and the dust has to be wiped up. It seems so wrong. Wrong that somebody who lived eighty-five years is now nothing more than a memory. He takes up no space anymore. He's just gone.

I think that's why his name, written in his own personal crooked cursive, made me pause. It was like he was waving his hand from the other side, saying, "Hey, remember me? Remember how important I was in your life?"

Handwriting is one of those things that is personal and no else has the same style as anyone else. I kind of love that now that my dad is gone. It reminds me that he was unique, special, hard-headed, soft-hearted, worry-warted. He really lived and loved us. And his name is left behind so we'll never forget.

He was.

He is Carl Mitchell Henshaw.

The movies I've watched in the last week.

I promised myself that my kids and I were going to watch tons of movie this break and we have.

Here's a lump-list review of everything I've seen in the last week:

HERE COMES THE BOOM: I typically hate stupid/funny movies, but I wouldn't mind owning this one. It was the perfect amount of funny, and had a pretty dang good plot (as far as comedies go), plus my kids loved it and we couldn't stop laughing. The acting was good and the script too. We were quoting lines and giggling on the way out of the theater. Definitely two thumbs up.

SWAN PRINCESS CHRISTMAS: No, no and no. And no some more. Even my daughter who loves the other Swan Princess movies hated this one. She said it was boring, plotless and they changed the appearances of the characters and not for the better. Pass.

TINKERBELL: SECRET OF THE WINGS:  I'm not even a fan of these movies but I really thought this was cute. Good plot. And I'm always a sucker for a sibling relationship movie, even if it is fairies. Definitely worth watching with your daughter. My girls LOVE this movie.

RED TAILS: I was so disappointed with this. I've been wanting to see it for a looonnnnggggggg time and had even heard good things about it. Granted, I heard good things about it from my teenage nephew, but still. The acting was bad, the lines were cheesy and did I mention the acting was bad? Oh, and way too much unnecessary swearing. It just felt thrown together, which is sad. It had so much potential.

SISTER ACT 2: BACK IN THE HABIT: So this is a really old movie. Like I think it was made the same year I graduated from high school. So, yeah, really old. I have loved this movie since the first time I saw it, back in college. And all these years I've been waiting to find it for cheap. It happened to be in Walmart right before Christmas for five bucks. Score! Finally. I was worried that now that I owned it, it wouldn't be as awesome. But it totally is. Awesome soundtrack, Whoopi Goldberg is hilarious, and it has an underdog defeats all plot, which I always love. So glad I finally have a copy for keeps. I'm going to wear it out!

And last but not least: LES MISERABLES: Do I really need to review this? I'm pretty sure every person in America saw this before me. Anyhow...I liked it. I won't buy it, and I wouldn't say it's one of my favorites, but I'm a sucker for the music and I thought all the actors/actresses did a fabulous job. Seriously, I'll be shocked if it doesn't win some Academy Awards. Also, up until last night I held no love in my heart for Hugh Jackman. I think it's probably because I've never liked any of the characters he's portrayed. And opposite of every other woman I know, I do not find him attractive. But I thought he was AMAZING in this movie. Seriously. Perfectly cast. Which is very shocking to me. I also thought Russell Crowe was impressive, as was Anne Hathaway (but I've known that for a while.) I have to say, though I like Amanda Seyfried a lot, her voice was kind of shrill.  Like Snow White in the Disney cartoon that my sister-in-law pawned off on me because it grated on her nerves shrill. And I hate to say that because I thought she was adorable as Cosette. And I really like her as an actress and even enjoyed her singing in Dear John. A lot. I'm just not sure she's a soprano. Anyway, Husband hated this movie. I tried to tell him to let me go with the girls but he would not relent. As we were walking out, he was like, "What was the point of that?" And I was like, "The main character changed. He took a journey and came out better than he started." And Husband was all, "I could have told you that story in fifteen minutes. Plus everybody died. Depressing."

And I shrugged and said, "That's Les Miserables." I mean, the title tells you everything you need to know.

What movies have you seen this lately?

The Parable of the Hussy

And it came to pass that a bony, ugly yet innocent hunting dog showed up at the farm. All the children  jumped up and down joyfully, begging to keep the dog. But the mean, hideous parents tried to talk them out of it.  The male chocolate lab agreed wholeheartedly that the girl should stay. So much so that he and his new love took off for a midnight rendevous and weren't back when the sun came up.

And there was much weeping and wailing and gnashing of the teeth by the children on the farm. For they loved Max the chocolate lab. His floppy ears, big goofy feet and stick fetching abilities. All day they prayed. Through Math, Language Arts and Social Studies they prayed. Through lunch and recess too. And when they got home there he was! Their hearts were full and they rejoiced exceedingly. For God had heard their prayers and answered their pleas.

But then the evil harlot Lucy returned, looking as innocent and sweet as ever. And the naive children again fell for her charms, begging the beastly parents if she could stay. Again she led Max, the Lab away, to be gone for hours, his family never knowing if he would return. Participating in unthinkable behavior.

And the beastly mother had had enough. She called the Beast of all Beasts: The Animal Control guy. He carted off the innocent, yet evil Hussy to doggy jail. Good riddance, Hussy we yelled as she rode off whining through the bars! (There were a few tears from the children and great sadness in Max's eyes). The evil temptress was gone and life could get back to normal.

Only, it didn't. Because Max was not repentant in his heart and wandered over the county whenever he got the urge. What was he looking for, you ask? Possibly a new Hussy, or a better bowl of food. Having no care for the heart palpitations he was causing his owners, or the worried brows of the children on the farm. Yet their Heavenly Father never let them down, for one owner found the wandering Max just this morning tied up in someone's yard on Route 60.

Oh will the teenage boy dog never learn?
Will the evil influence of the Hussy ever fade into the past?
Will the children ever realize the Hussy is to blame?
Will the owners ever get off their butts and get dog tags?

That is for you to interpret.

And for me to get off here before I get struck down.

I Want You

I want to make a sidebar list of my five or so favorite/most popular blog posts for people who are new to my website. I'm thinking Calm the Sailor and Go Ahead. Laugh at My Pain.

What else?

Mine?

No Pain, No Gain, right?

A post. P-Dub Style?

I am Mormon. Hear Me Whisper?

I'm dying to know if you have favorites? Or if anyone even reads this blog anymore?

So take a minute to let me know. I value your words as much as you value mine.

Wet Cement

I blipped right off your radar, didn't I? Sorry about that, but there's been a lot going on. Between moving, starting Husband's business and simply settling in, I've hardly had time to think about blogging.

But then this cool thing happened.

Remember how I grew up on this farm, and then when I got married, I convinced Husband that we should move back here—and we stayed for seven and a half years? Well, in all that time, I didn't spend as much time actually out on the farm as I wanted too. I was too busy changing diapers back then. So when I found out we were moving back again, I made a resolution to take a walk around the farm in the mornings. I mean, I live on this awesome piece of land, I may as well get out and use/enjoy it, right?

And that's what I've been doing. Most weekday mornings, I've been taking a walk around the farm. Partly for exercise and partly just to relax and have a few minutes to myself. But I've also been doing something else. I've been praying. And I've found out that my prayers are so much more heartfelt when my legs are moving and my eyes are open.

The thing I've noticed since moving back to the farm are that tender mercies are everywhere around us. And rather than look at all that's going wrong (fighting VDOT to okay the sight distance on the business driveway, broken tractors and four-wheelers, humidity, mosquito bites...) I'm choosing to look at the tender mercies Heavenly Father leaves lying everywhere.


Hay bales perfect for jumping, hiding, and pretending you're a medieval knight defending the castle.

A dog that will sit for an hour letting Big Girl cover him in sand, join me on my morning walk, and share his food with the cat.

A mouser whose legs are so powerful she jumps up and hangs on the doorknob, trying to get into the house. Not kidding. (So I may struggle a bit with this one. She's been exiled to the outdoors for missing the litter box one too many times!)

Fields of yellow flowers, that will in a few weeks be so saturated with buds that we won't be able to see any of the green.

A plantation home that makes the perfect backdrop for any Halloween party we might want to throw and is so rich with history that I feel honored to share the same piece of land.

The view from the top of the old house hill. 

Evening dirt bike dates with this cutie. 

Cows. Mooooooooo

Boys who are acting more like best friends than I've ever seen before.

And wet cement.

Let me explain this one. My dad's headstone came in a few weeks ago. My brother and I happened to show up soon after, when the cement was still wet. What are the chances? We don't stop there every day. Usually just Sundays. But that day we pulled in to show our cousin and his fiance who were visitingand the headstone had just been placed. It turned out beautiful but as I stood there looking at my mom's name next to my dad's, the words in the middle, Families Are Forever, seemed to call for something more. So we called Mom on the phone and got her permission first. And then Tres, his daughter (seen right) and I proceeded to carve the name of all the Carl Henshaw family members—sons, daughter, in-laws and grandchildren, into the cement.

We haven't gone anywhere this summer. Not a single trip. But it's been one of the best summer's I've ever had. And when someone asks us what our calendar looks like, I tell them it's wide open. We've had plenty of time to work, play and enjoy each other. And that is a tender mercy in and of itself.

What tender mercies have you enjoyed this summer?