A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes...

alright. i didn't tell this story to many people...due to the fact that i didn't want to look like an idiot. but...it's safe to tell! some of you may not be interested in this at all, but those of you who know me well and know my life-long dream of being "discovered" may appreciate this.


it's kind of a long story...so i'll be brief and leave out the details. (so out of character for me. :)

before leaving for new york, i joked many times about getting discovered while i was there. childhood dreams die hard, right? one night when chad and i were there, we happened upon the reveal of the macy's christmas window display. now, i had no idea what a big deal this was. i had heard of the window display but didn't know how "famous" they were. we went to macy's around 4:00 and the big program thing where they reveal the windows was to start at 5:30. they were having one of the main actresses from dream girls singing and the little girl who plays jane banks in mary poppins on broadway was acting in the little skit. willard scott was reading twas the night before christmas and santa claus himself even showed up. they interviewed the guy who created the window displays, who turns out to be a pretty big deal in new york, i guess. they blocked off broadway and the crowd thickened quickly. chad and i sat in the bleachers that were set up across the street enjoying the cold night air and caramel apple ciders. we thought we had lucked out and had one of the best seats there. they led the whole crowd in christmas carols...which excited me because i was actually getting to sing on broadway!! chad took a picture to prove it. well...skip to the end, where chad and i are trying to make our way through the crowd with snow-like confetti falling all around and lots and lots of twinkly lights. i had seen a lot of cameras and assumed it was the news stations getting shots for the late news, when all of a sudden, a felt someone tap my shoulder. i turned around to see a camera man next to a guy with a big long fuzzy microphone on a long pole. he said, "you've been requested." then...the next minute was a blur. they pushed me into the artist who designed the window displays and said, just talk to him about the displays." so i did. i had to then fill out a waver to give them permission to use the footage if they needed it and said it was for the holiday window display special on HGtv. i figured there was no way that i would get on national tv, but thought it was pretty cool anyway. chad and i tuned in to the special the other night, and with about 3 minutes left in the 1 hour special...there i am. smack dab on the t.v. screen. we couldn't believe it. my mouth dropped open and chad literally jumped off the couch and did a little victory dance. it was quite cute. my parents had it on and my mom was so proud. afterall, it is her favorite t.v. station on earth. it airs again on sunday, the 23rd at 4:00 and on christmas day at 10:00am. who would have thought...

...turns out i actually got discovered. even if it was by HGtv. :) have you ever thought about the little things God makes happen? the things that are just especially to make you smile?

The Pockets of Little Boys

Tonight I learned a very important lesson...

ALWAY CHECK A LITTLE BOY'S POCKETS BEFORE DOING LAUNDRY!

I have seen the cute, old-fashion depiction of a little boy in overalls, with dirt smudges on his face, a slingshot hanging out of one pocket and a frog in the other. However...I thought those times had passed. With Sony Play Stations and Wiis and videos and computer games, it seems we've lost the innocent and magical games of childhood that called upon the use of a boy's imagination as opposed to their parent's money. no longer can an old, tattered football compete with Madden NFL for the play station or a stick be magically transformed into a gun...which saddens me. Fantacy football has taken the place of guys getting together at the local highschool field to play a game of touch. I wonder if these guys still have the same "brother-like" relationships as they used to. I know I'm not a boy and I may not have validity enough to speak about these boyish things. But as I did my own little boy's laundry tonight, my mind wandered to these places. This past weekend, Chad went and purchased rocks to line our flowerbeds and a huge mound of mulch to put in them. The kids had a blast "helping". They dug and hid "treasures" and climbed and rolled in the huge pile of dirt in our driveway. Chase had the smudges on his face that i spoke of earlier and for some reason they made me happy. The boys were taking a break from technology and were playing things that required imagination...and were loving it. Well, as I transfered the washed, wet, dark load into the dryer tonight, I started noticing a lot of...what looked like dirt...falling from the clothes. It just kept coming. I could not figure out where it was coming from, but it had filled the washing machine and was filling the dryer before I realized what had happened. Chase had decided to fill ALL his pockets with mulch. It was all over the laundry room, all in the clothes, and all in the washer and dryer. Now, I know I've been accused of being neurotically clean...but seriously. I just washed dirt.

everybody hurts

7th grade was probably the worst year of my life. i had grown tall in a time where tall was not "in". i was skinny and lanky...waif-like...when skinny, lanky and waif-like was not considered beautiful. my arms were long and my legs were longer before the clothing industry came up with the idea that every girl's body type was, indeed, not the same. the guess jeans with the zipper at the ankle was all i ever wanted...thinking they would make me cool...only to find out that the guess jeans with the zipper at the ankles would be about 3 inches too short for me. i would wear them anyways because i thought they were better (in my mind) than the knock-off palmettos that had the same triangle on the back pocket. i was proud of my jeans...don't get me wrong...but they didn't make me shorter. and they didn't make the cute boys look at me more. and they didn't make the popular girls want to be any more my friend. misguided, i was. my mom had a rule. i could wish for the popular things...the guess overalls, the liz claiborne purse, the jeans with the real guess triangle on the pocket...but she would never buy them for me right away. even though we had the money, i had to wait. i had to wait until christmas, or my birthday, or for another reason that warranted buying them. she knew then, what i know now...that "so i would be accepted" was not a reason she wanted to promote. what she also knew, that i know now, is that it wouldn't work. several moments in time stand out vividly in my mind from 7th grade, as if they were yesterday. one, when the most popular boy in my grade, whom i had had a crush on all year, came up to me in the hallway. my excitement was so off the charts that i'm sure it was seen on my face and heard in my voice. had he finally seen me? he must have noticed my jeans! only to have him ask me to tell my best friend, catherine that he liked her and to find out if she returned his feelings. obviously she would. second, when my stomach would start hurting so bad and i would feel so sick that i would go to the nurse and she would have to call my mom to come get me. i would lay on the couch the rest of the day, wondering what was wrong with me and my mom would have a worried look in her eye and a loving touch in her hand. then my stomach would start hurting upon time to leave for school...to the point of tears...and she took me to the doctor. she knew i wasn't lying. the doctor said it was stress. that something was going on in my life to promote the physical response and that this was the way my little body and mind were handling it. my mom wondered what, on earth, i had to be stressed about. see...this was before "stress" in children became better understood. and third, when i was accused of something that i didn't do by a popular girl and everyone believed her. i was at my locker and kids were saying mean things to me and hurling insult after insult until they felt i had had enough and believed the things they were saying. little did they know...i already believed the things they were saying. i didn't need their help to feel bad about myself. i didn't even stand up for myself. i guess i felt like i wasn't worth it. nor would anyone listen to me anyways. i was never gonna be who i wanted to be...even though, at the time, i didn't even know who that was.

fast forward through high school, college, and grad school where i finally hit my stride and had enough accalades to bury the deep hurt and memories from 7th grade deep down inside. fast forward through tall and skinny becoming what girls want to look like and the clothing industry making clothes geared toward our body type and the short people having to hem them to fit. you'd think that would make up for those bad memories. just so you know...it doesn't. i've learned to be okay with my weight and celebrate my height...but the demons are still there. as an adult, my clothing is not attacked anymore, but my character has been. not often...but it has happened. and those memories and feelings that i had when i was in 7th grade come flooding to the surface. i'm still not good enough. i'm still not accepted. i still need to change who i am to fit the mold that will make me worth it. i still want someone to understand...to know exactly how i feel...to comfort me...to know me.

last night i was sitting in the darkness of my living room, dealing with hurt feelings...where the only light came from the twinkly lights of the christmas tree and garland on the fireplace. i could barely see the nativity scene on my mantle and the baby Jesus being held by his mommy. i thought about him as a baby, and a boy, and a man. i thought about how other kids may have made fun of him and then i started thinking about how he was ridiculed and mocked as a man. i thought about how he had human emotions and how he must have felt. if i felt hurt by being misunderstood, how must have he felt...when the whole world misunderstood him? it wasn't just the kids in the 7th grade...it was most everybody. he knew he was the Christ. a King. the great I AM. God in the flesh. the savior of the mockers. the one who came for us. He knew what He was here to do for us...

and He hurt.

just like i hurt.

He knows me...

and i was comforted.

I WANT TO BE A PART OF IT, NEW YORK, NEW YORK...

Probably my favorite picture: Times Square

We celebrated our 8th anniversary on top of the Empire State Building with the Manhatten skyline behind us

It actually snowed for us while we were up there...Chad tried to capture the snowflakes on my hat and scarf. It was quite cold!!

We went skating in Rockefeller Center...this is what I was most excited about doing. I have to say...Chad is no Apollo Anton Ohno. He actually tried to take me down with him! Imagine...

And me...I liked to twirl on the ice like I did when I was a little girl.

If I can't see my name in lights...Chase's will do!! :)

Time's Square