Kissing Frogs and Making Princes

I read a statement online that read "Chocolate is better than kissing." I love chocolate, I do. Depending on the type of chocolate, it is one of the better things this world has to offer. However, I fully believe that chocolate is NOT better than kissing. I mean, I have had some pretty bad kisses. So, I suppose in those cases, chocolate would have been better. But overall, I am going say kissing wins this bet. When you are with the right person, kissing is like... well, I can't think of a word but, it sure is great! Better than chocolate! Sometimes, better than sex! That's right, I said it... better than sex. Which, really, is one of things I miss about dating. When all you did with a guy was kiss? *sigh* And I digress...

The older I get, the more appreciative I become of the things and the people I have in my life. For those who are closest to me, you know it has not been the easiest of roads. I thought I had found my Prince Charming. He was just a frog with a VERY good disguise. The best part about meeting him was the true prince he gave to me. A little blonde haired, brown eyed, quirky boy. The absolute love of my life. Turns out with a little time and a big makeover, Jesus turned that former frog into a king. So, I guess that makes me a queen and maybe one of these days, we will have a princess. Chocolates and flowers are nice but my life, my life is the best gift.




Happy Valentines Day!

Best Friend and Risotto

There are a few things I’d like to talk about…

The first, and by far the most important, is my son. He is almost four and full of energy, love, and stubbornness. I will not get into the energy or stubbornness right now, as I am sure there will be plenty of other times to discuss such matters. But the love, oh the love… He crawled up in my lap last night to cuddle. I try not to refuse these moments, even if he is squirmy and I am busy because I know one day not too far in the future, he will be sixteen and want nothing to do with his weird, old mother. So, I take the cuddles. This time he not only cuddled, he also stated matter-of-factly, “momma, you’re my best friend.” My first reaction was to melt because of the obvious. My child, my sweet and beautiful boy, picked me. How lucky I am. My second response was wondering where in the world did he get the term “best friend.” It is crazy to me what he picks up on a daily basis. There is a part of me that wants to watch him grow. I want to experience life with him and see him walk down his own path. But the other part, the emotional and maternal part, wants him to stay this tiny person forever. I want to always be his best friend. I want him to always be as excited as he is these days when his daddy comes home. I never knew something so small could ignite so much frustration and such an overflow of love, most of the time in one day.

Secondly and small in comparison to the former, is the risotto I made this evening was… delicious. I didn’t have high expectations because it usually takes me a handful of times to get something down, especially when it comes to cooking. Last week I had decided to make mushroom risotto and so I skimmed a few recipes online. I settled with one by Jamie Oliver. I mean, I am in England so it was only fitting that I use a Brit’s recipe. The 30 minutes it took me to make seemed longer. However, it was worth the time spent and the huge mess I made.  I do wish it wasn’t a starchy carb and had less fat so I could make it (and consume it) more often.  However, I think once a month will be just fine. Next thing on the menu? Homemade scones with clotted cream and tea. YUM!

England may just steal my heart yet…

The Inevitable Breakdown

Today is harder than the rest. I am not sure why. The breakdown was inevitable, I suppose, but I thought after being here almost two months that maybe it just passed by without recognition from my heart. I was foolish to think such. I can’t believe it has been almost two months. It feels like two weeks. Granted we have only been in our house for three weeks, the rest of the time spent in temporary housing on base. This phone situation is driving me crazy. The lack of internet is enough to make any average person go mad. I can’t believe it takes them an entire month to get to a house to install a landline and modem. I feel like, sometimes, I am living in a different century. One where customer service is at a bare minimum and things like wifi have just come into existence.

I want to go home. What I really want is to be the girl that lived in England for two or three years and loved it. I want to see things, enjoy the culture, travel. We have yet to do anything worth doing, see anything worth seeing. And I suppose we have plenty of time, I mean, we did just get our things last week. The transition has been long. Maybe going to London this weekend will help because this heart of mine wonders what the heck it is doing here. I never thought it would long for Odessa. But I had friends there. I had a church. I had a gym. I had running buddies. I had the internet! I had a car and my family. I had a routine. I want to love this place but today…. Today is harder than the rest.