What if • day 4

Whit and I started officially dating the fall before I turned 21. I had grown fond of his nerdiness and found him to be the most loving guy I had ever met. He was sincere, spontaneous, simple & good. These were not characteristics I was used to. I had just come out of a 5 year on and off again unhealthy relationship with D. Another bad boy fixer upper type that was going nowhere despite my efforts. He was a drug addict that needed way more than I could ever give him. My dads words were in my head but I was constantly going back and forth between whit & D. You might be asking yourself what in the world? What was the choice here? Your totally right, there really was no choice. I just longed to fix him. So when Whit said, choose.. It's him or me. I went with my gut and went with Whit. Sounds simple, but I was really in what I thought at the time was love. But from that moment forward I knew it was right. I knew my dad had been right all along and in order to move forward this was my path.

Whit and I dated for a long time before we talked about marriage. I've always been amused at how funny God can be. I really do think he has a sense of humor. It always seemed like musical chairs to me. Like how you date thru high school and college and then whoever is standing is who your with. Like you dated 10 and ended up with one. Feels like fate or happenstance, when it's him, moving those chairs, taking one away and placing you where you need to be.

What if my chair was gone in whits game? What it I had stayed with D?

What if • day 3

In high school I had some great friends and just a few boyfriends. I was bad about getting serious and then would break up with them once it felt like a relationship. When I think back about the year or two year long relationships I think about what a waste of time they were. I was too young. I should have been out with friends, not dreaming my time away on some flighty love. It really does remind me of one of those snap shots that you look back on and say what was I thinking?! It's funny.

I chose guys that I needed to fix. My dad constantly reminded me that I was not a nurse or a purse but somehow I always found myself fixing them all. I met whit (my hubby) my sophomore year in high school. I tease him now that I thought he was a nerd. We had friends that knew each other but we never shared anything more than a hello. That summer I had a huge party at my parents house when they were out of town. He was there and I wasn't even aware. He told me years later. Guess it wasn't time for us?

4 or 5 years later I came home from college and needed a summer job. Ran into a guy that owned a tanning salon, said he was hiring, told me to go fill out an application. Whit worked there and I gave my completed app to him, asked him to put in a good word for me. He later told me he put my app at the top as they usually didn't sort through them all and just hired top 2-4 people. Whit and I began as friends, hanging out almost every day. I still thought he was nerdy, but super funny. Not totally my type.

What if we had one of those quick relationships back in early high school? The ones I was quick to run through? What if I had not come home that summer?

What if Whit had not been in my plan that God had for me?!

What if • day 2

When we were kids we lived the typical life. My brother is four years older than me. He's older than me but our birth order is definitely off. I've always been very in control and very A type. This is very apparent in my every day.

When my parents divorced I was five. My brother struggled more than I did. He was angry and lashed out. He was in trouble a lot. I was your typical kid. Mema pat took over my care because I was not doing well in the house with my step- mom. There was no love in that house. I was also mema's shadow. She did everything for me. She bought me clothes, took me to dance, let me have slumber parties... She created the perfect life for me. She took me everywhere she taught me everything. However, deep down I was angry. I was sharp tongued, hard to please and not easy to get along with. Mema pat made sure I had lots of friends, went to church every Sunday, respected adults and was living with a sweet spirit. She made sure I was living the life of a little girl.

I'm a strong woman and like I always say his plan for me was written before I was born. He did not forsake me during that time. He gave me strength to be better and shaped me to do good and to love people despite their hatefulness.

What if Mema Pat had not raised me?

What if • day 1

Its my birthday, so today i've been thinking a lot about life and how we've come to where we are. I was at the zoo today with the babies and it occurred to me that our lives could be drastically different. Not my same old cliche story that you've heard me tell a thousand times about finally getting pregnant- but the dark other side of what if all that didn't happen? what of all of this didn't happen?

What If God wasn't at the forefront of our lives? What if he wasn't in control? What if we didn't put our problems in his hands? What if we didn't get on our knees and beg him for mercy? What if?

I've decided I need to focus on what is good in my life by looking at 30 what if's. A fellow blogger once said "there is a reason for everyone to be unhappy. There is a reason for everyone to be happy. What's your focus?"

Here. We. Go.

2011 in photos day 31

As I write my final recap post of 2011 I am gushing with simple thoughts.

Gracefulness
Feelings of being whole
Sadness of the blur of time
Glad one more successful Barkin Ball is under my belt
Happy for a love that whit and I share that most people only dream of
Overwhelmed because we have a lot on our plates
Humbled that God gave me this task and sent us on this journey.
Teary over the person I had become before these three eggs stuck
Amazed at the struggles a marriage can withstand if God is involved
Joyful that tomorrow is my birthday and nothing seems as exciting as spending the day with them
Delighted that you take the time to read and relive my moments with me through this blog

Happy 2012 everyone. Ours is already starting out to be amazing. Pray for knowledge for my family and strength to grow. Pray for guidance for me and whit as we shape these three little lives.

2011 in photos day 30

Christmas was merry and bright. It held all the joy our little house could hold. All the traditions happened and the spirit was truly present in our home.

Great food, fun presents, silent night and triplets. What more could we have asked for?

2011 in photos day 29

I was never that close to my mother. My mom was an alcoholic and my parents divorced when I was five. In the beginning she appeared to be perfect in everyone's eyes. She made beautiful food, dressed my brother and I perfectly and was the envy of other housewives. That all changed in less than two months. My father did everything and couldn't save her. He told us she was "sick"... I guess I went through stages where I believed that. Some moments I was angry and some, I really could have cared less. My mema was my mother and I never longed for anything. I always described my relationship with my mother as non-existent. I felt like it was over before it began. I never missed her when she wasn't around. I never questioned where she was. It was either a relationship that had not developed or that I had blocked out.

She died in October of 2010. Her body was found in her apartment. Appeared to be liver failure. She was alone and it had been days. I found out by an early call from my dad. I was in the middle of our "final" fertility cycle and was giving myself 4 shots a day. I was at peace with the news and thought maybe she wouldn't be "sick" in his kingdom. Maybe she would be out of the pain that drove her. I found out I was pregnant about 3 weeks later. It was weird. There was a day when I wondered if God took my mother and gave me a baby... Like it was some sort of trade off. I felt like she knew. Like she had made some sort of last ditch effort to offer me peace. Like a little girl who's mother forgot to pick her up at school and then suddenly whipped around the corner.

When we got ready for Christmas this year I thought about her. I thought about how there was nothing better than kids at Christmas and how someone would literally have to drag me away from my children if they wanted us to live separately and how I would die for them. I thought about how she called me once or twice when I was six and seven and how the phone calls stopped. I thought, " my dad was right, she must have really been sick". There was just no way I would live without my children. No drug, no drink that I would want more than their sweet breaths on my chest.

I hope she looked down on these babies during Christmas. I remember singing silent night holding Gianna and thinking it was the most sacred thing I had ever done in my life. I remember the candles at church flickering and her eyes were twinkling at the flames. I remember the waive of emotion that washed over me.

I remember missing my mother for the first time in my life.