Home Sweet Home

We are slowly but surely getting our new home together. We spent most of last night implementing the items we got at our shower and after the wedding. There are times where I've put out one more candle or frame and been like, "Is this too much?" You will probably see these pictures and be like, "Can that girl cram anymore stuff in one room?" But honestly-- at this time in my life, I love it. I love seeing pictures everywhere. And sharing my space with 10 vases and a decorative bowl. It's home to me. When I would daydream about what my future apartment or home would look like, I always pictured a modern, clean cut space with few accessories and neutral colors. Ya know, the ones in the movies that Cameron Diaz marches into with her mile-high stiletto heels.

But what I found is: Modern simplicity is way more expensive than antique hand me downs and dumpster diving. (No surprise there, huh?) So I begged. And I loaded. And I searched. And somehow little by little, our house came together without a single furniture purchase. And you know what? I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm no modern. I don't want to sit on a couch that I can't spill Dr. Pepper on. I don't want to see a weird art sculpture where a picture of my Mama could be. So here's a quick tour. The backyard is still in progress and will be posted at a later date!



This is the livingroom as you would see it coming from the front door. Quite an array of inherited colors, but I like how comfortable and homey it is.



I have always wanted a fireplace so I was really excited that this house had one. Can't wait to get it up and running next winter! The objects on the mantle all hold special significance, especially the painting my grandma did for me.



Couch covers do wonders for a very floral loveseat. I love having this in my home though. It's the loveseat I always remember my Great-Grandma Robb lying on to watch old movies.



Justin's pride and joy would have to be the TV he got on sale. And also the ottoman that he found people throwing out and nabbed. He came home and said, "Are you proud of me?" I was VERY proud. He is learning! New fabric to come soon hopefully, but it works for now!



This is the dining area by the kitchen. I love the wide open layout of the whole space.



This piano was another free find from a lady who just wanted it out of her house. Strangely enough, it was in the house where I lived in Paragould on Court Street. Such a small world!



I thought the piano was a great place to display some of my favorite pictures and another one of my grandma's paintings. This is one of my favorites that she has ever done for me.



This is entering the kitchen from the livingroom. We eventually want to add some color, but we like the look now! Lots of good cabinet space which is already packed to the brim.



The other side of the kitchen. Thanks to all of our friends and family for all the cool appliances!



Call me strange, but I love all the doors in this house, especially this one that leads out of the kitchen onto the deck. It is actually a half-door that can be opened up. Maybe I'll one day open it and hand out stuff for the grill while wearing an apron and smiling really big. Maybe.



Welcome to the 70s, also known as Justin's man cave. We got these from my dad's parents and they are still quite charming and comfortable. Guys seem to like 'em.



No man cave is complete without a little ping pong. This was my Christmas present to him this past year. I'm usually a terrible gift giver, but I was pretty pleased with how this one turned out. I will one day beat him.



This charming touch pretty much sold me on the house. An old phone nook. I've been tempted to lay my cell phone on there and answer it just for the fun of it.



Guest room. Come and see us!



Our room. We have an old, brown door that we will be putting up as the headboard one of these days!



Just got this painting from Mema as part of my wedding present for our bedroom. I love it!



This is not the final look of this, but I was given two really cool trunks that I will be incorporating soon!



Stand by for a before and after picture of this bad boy. We aren't crazy about the tile, but it's OK for the time being. We are wanting to re-model some this summer.

Same with our bathroom:



Thanks for taking this tour with us! I know it's not perfectly in order, but I knew if I waited until then, it would never happen. We kind of like to mess things up as we go around here. We are hoping to open the pool soon and shape up the yard! Pictures to come when the parties start!

Anything you Facebook, I Facebook Better

I vowed a lot of things at my wedding. Though most of them were in front of an audience, one promise was made to Justin before the wedding: I declare on this day to never partake in Facebook husband wars, nor refer to you in a serious manner as “hubby.”

“What are Facebook husband wars?” you ask. Here’s an example:

“Kelly is SO thankful that I have the most adorable, wonderful hubby in the whole wide world. He massaged my feet tonight, cooked me a three-course meal and bought me a Corvette. I love you Boo Boo.”

Kelly’s friend Kathy sees this and her status suddenly changes from her entire daily schedule to “Kathy’s hubby doesn’t just do things on special occasions. He massages my feet AND takes me to expensive restaurants. Oh, and is that a Lexus in my driveway?”

Ok, so this is a slight exaggeration. And I’m not slamming people for praising their husband’s hard work. But I’ve heard of plenty of splits that happened that came as a complete shock to the Facebook world because of the daily mush that flooded their newsfeed. I feel like respect and admonition is so important in a relationship, but I just want to make sure I am telling the person who needs to hear it the most, and not 500 people I had that one class with one time.

The other side of the coin is what I like to call the “mystery gripe.”

This is when Jill is “really wishing that SOMEONE would get off his rear and help around the house some. Just sayin.” [Side note: “Just sayin’” is a phrase that is supposed to take the sting out of anything negative. i.e.: I would have been offended but because you are ‘just sayin,’ I am completely peachy with the fact that you said my outfit was hideous.]

But back to Jill. You think her husband is going to read this and be instantly inspired to go help with the dishes? That would be a negative. I think that if someone implied I was a lousy spouse in front of 1,000 people, my reaction wouldn’t be motivation. Unless you’re talking about motivation to get all Kelly Clarkson/Carrie Underwood on his tail. 

I was a little insecure at first about my role as a Facebook wife. Will he feel unloved if I don't document his every sweet move on a social media? How many close-up self portraits are enough to convince the world that you're truly in love?

After talking about it like it was some sort of serious issue, we decided that we agreed. So here ya go: we love each other, people. And that's all ya gotta know. 

 

Name Drop

It’s funny the things that make you stop and remember, “Oh yeah, I’m married now.” Like closing the bank account you’ve had since high school. I remember the excitement of opening it for the first time. I remember the panic when I received calls from Mom freshman year asking if I had over-drafted again (the answer was usually “yes.” You live and learn, I guess!) Nevertheless, I marched in there like a big girl today and closed my account, which luckily had more in it than the day I opened it.

Then you get to go to the Social Security office and get a new card. And then your identity is really changed when you get your new license. A pleasant lady (glad I got her line) greeted me and could obviously tell I didn’t want to part with my youthful license picture from yesteryear. “Oh honey,” she said, “let me cut that out for you!” She left nothing but my small square face and forked it over for me to put in my wallet. That was a good picture I must say. It’s amazing how cute you can look when you don’t have to work, you lay by the pool all summer and walked into the revenue office with a Sonic drink.

It was so strange to see "Ray" written where "Reely" used to be. Always having been identified as "Mr. Reely's kid" or "Bob Reely-- that guy who wears the goofy hats in chapel--'s granddaughter," it was bizarre to realize that people will no longer see my distinct last name staring back at them, leading them to ramble about how they know some relative of mine. It even got me out of a police ticket one time because Dad was his camp counselor and PawPaw had been his professor. 

The reason I bring all this up is because one of my biggest fears initially about marriage was losing my identity. I had heard people grumble about marriage and had endured plenty of friendly warnings. I didn't want to lose my sense of adventure. I didn't want to be a nag. I didn't want to be a slave. I have since figured something out that has helped me fill this new role. 

Being a servant isn't being a servant. Maybe you had to read that twice. As strange as it sounds, it is true. I always thought that being a wife meant I was expected to cook, clean and... other things. My enlightenment came over a simple sandwich. I'll spare you the details, but before we even got engaged, there was a slight spat about a sandwich. Justin was busy doing something and asked if I would make him one. The what-I-thought-was an independent woman cried out in me. I selfishly thought, 'I have two degrees and he wants me to make him a sandwich. Psh."

Much thought and prayer made me swallow my pride. I realized: Justin has never hesitated to pick me up in the middle of nowhere when I am lost. Justin cooks me dinner when I work all day. Justin helps clean up the kitchen. Why would I not be compelled to do something as insignificant as slap two pieces of bread together? He didn't expect me to. He just asked me to. I wouldn't hesitate to go out of my way for a friend, but I was holding back from the one I loved because of a misconstrued stereotype I was trying to avoid. 

And tah-dah, my outlook on marriage life suddenly shifted from an identity loss to a tremendous gain. Now I have someone to share my goofiness with (poor guy). Now I have someone to adventure with. Now I have someone who knows me to my very core. I'm not losing myself; I am sharing myself with someone else.

I am not your typical "Leave it to Beaver" wife. I burn things all the time. And my laundry basket sometimes overfloweth. But I want a servant heart like Jesus.

...and maybe the ability to multiply bread and fish for company while we're at it. 

 

 

Say Yes to Distress

The wedding went off without a hitch, with an elegance and grace that is beyond my clumsy nature. I actually can’t take credit for any of it except for my presence; it was most definitely a family affair led by my Aunt Jamie and her friend Beverly Stephens, along with the guidance and pocketbook of my beloved parents. When I walked in on Saturday morning, everyone was doing something—uncles were climbing fences near cliffs to retrieve stones to keep the curtains from blowing away, brothers were swinging from branches while hanging mason jars in trees, the women were decorating and adding finishing touches. And let’s not even talk about my cousin Hannah who wore many hats: photographer, make-up artist and hair stylist. Her husband, Scott even toted around a camera to take her place when she was busy making me a movie star.

This family circus, in all its glory, was for me. I was blown away by all the support and love. And being a wedding veteran for many years, I know there were numerous disasters that were hidden from me and for that I am most grateful.

A lot of women have asked me how I was able to relinquish control and take a backseat during this wedding process. My answer? Sanity.

For a girl who had her fair share of tea parties, dress up clothes and imaginary Prince Charmings, the hoopla of wedding madness was too much for me. Not ten minutes after Justin popped the question, I was already being asked what my colors were. Oh, so I was supposed to have color swatches on hold? Whoops. Panic began to set in almost immediately. All the things I had impulsively posted on Pinterest began to haunt my thoughts. It hit me that handmade candles don’t just hop in antique mason jars who then wrap themselves in lace. You actually have to make that stuff that you “liked."And registering? It was like waltzing in a fairyland where I'm actually going to use fine china and vacuum seal my fresh veggies from the garden I'm tending to. Come on. When you have to google certain objects on your "you have to have this" complimentary list, you know you're out of your league.

Wedding showers, in all honesty, are comical to me. They're so exciting, but if you really break it down, you are applying birthday party etiquette to everyday items. I can't tell you how many times I see bowls in my cupboard each day. But give me some punch, several women and sugar and I will shriek about this bowl, tell you how I'm going to use this bowl, and spin the bowl around to view every angle. Don't act like it's not true. Even you, as the party-goer, have gone, "I hope you love the bowl I got you! I was thinking about a placemat, but thought a bowl was 'more you'!" 

The overall reason, however, that I couldn't handle the extravaganza is because I don't like to make decisions. I can carry the "No, you choose the restaurant" conversation into triple overtime. So imagine my reaction to an event that requires a bazillion questions being answered. The result? Chest pains and hyperventilation. I was no Bridezilla-- it was more like "Here Comes the Hypochondriac." It was then that I decided to give it over to the professionals. And that I did. And look how rockin' my wedding was.

In all honesty, I recommend it to anyone. I feel like so many women focus so much on the wedding and the minor details that they don't get to soak in the atmosphere and all the people that are there for them throughout the process. Two days of a grapefruit/tuna diet and I knew that I was no ordinary bride-to-be. I decided I would rather savor my wedding showers than be frothing at the mouth wanting some cake. So you know what? I ate cake and ice cream when I wanted to. And if I wanted a cheeseburger, I *gasp* drove through those lines that aid the 'big, fat and wide' line of the bridal song. 

I in no way had the exact figure I wanted to have at my wedding, and I have all but buried and held a memorial service for my early college physique. But I was happy and I felt loved. And that more than conquers going down a few dress sizes. 

I'm not saying a small wedding is for everyone. Some people thrill at the chance to plot, plan and cut out things. What I am saying, however, is to keep the important things important. Your fiance's feelings are more important than your bouquet. Your grandmother's hug should take priority over making sure the DJ is going to play your favorite song. 

I want to thank my selfless friends, family and now husband for allowing me to give up the little things so I could soak up the times that will forever take residence in my soul. 

 

 

 

New Chapter, New Blog

As many of you know, I used to be a very avid blogger. I lived it, I breathed it, and then I got a full-time job. My writing, unfortunately, got put on the back burner as I instead chose to come home and enter a vegetative state. I usually re-start my writing after monumental events occur in my life. I just got hitched and have entered a new chapter, thus leading me to give the blogosphere another try. I figure if single life produced such entertaining material that married life would be even more fruitful. :)

This won't be your typical married life blog. I'm not going to make scones every morning or make Justin scarves I saw on Pinterest. Let's face it: that's just not me. But I will be sincere, honest and transparent. And give you a glimpse into our imperfect lives that are perfected by our love for each other. 

Stay tuned to "Happily Ever Laughter."