That Midsummer Life

For the lack of bustle in my business, I haven't written here often. At least not lately. It's been nearly a month and you might think I just became busy, or was overwhelmed with some project. None of that is accurate--not entirely.

The truth about writing, for me, is that when I have appropriate sources for support I am less inclined to express my deepest feelings on the internet. It means that even in the middle of an emotional crisis or some sort of trauma, if I have enough outlets in real life then I don't feel I need an outlet anywhere else. My blog (and even sometimes my journal) can grow dusty during those times. 

Basically I have beautiful friends. I have had enough people to talk me through things that it didn't seem like my blog was my only chance to vent. Thanks, friends. 

Nevertheless, I have a loyal audience somewhere, albeit a small one, and my summer has been full of excellent adventures. 

Last month was full of love and laughter. I celebrated four years of marriage to my wonderful husband. We celebrated at Six Flags, because the whole, "eating at a restaurant for every special occasion" thing can get old pretty quickly. 

We also finally got smart phones. (^That pictures was taken with Instagram! I'm so cool!) I know, some of you are probably recalling all those times I said, "I don't have a smart phone, and I probably never will." Well, it finally became cheaper for us to switch, rather than stay with our old, broken phones at our old, pricey phone company. We now pay a fraction of the cost, but get so much more. We agreed not to download and/or play endless games and really only use the phones for talking, texting (a feature we didn't actually have before), and taking pictures. The husband uses his to obsessively play music. 

Shortly after that I celebrated Independence Day with some friends. Joey had to work, so I hooked up with some of my favorite Parsonage House people for a David Crowder concert and later some fireworks over Lake Michigan. 

I also opened an Etsy store last week. It's called Foxwild Studio and so far it's been fairly successful. I've really enjoyed learning about business tactics--the first being that if you put physical things into your store's name, it will be more memorable. It's also given me the chance to really branch out creatively. Over the years I've accumulated a lot of beading materials and supplies, but aside from gifts for people and things I make for myself, I haven't had much opportunity to make anything. It's been such a blast. Check out the shop, if you haven't already!

Here's an example of some of the things I sell. (I promise not everything is fox-related.) The pendant on the left sold literally an hour ago! Business will hopefully really get going in the next few weeks. I've been making new items all week, and I just made a lightbox, which should make the photographing of items easier and therefore the items will look prettier. 

In less wonderful news, I'm finally up for another visit to my cancer doctor. I just finished round four of my super fun cancer drugs, and now I get to wait (ever so patiently) for my appointment on the 28th. There will be a biopsy this time, as the good doctor promised. I am not looking forward to it. I know it might not be anywhere near as painful as the first time, but I'm still a little scared. However, in light of my fear, there is also hope. I also know that if the cancerous cells are nowhere to be found and the biopsy is all clear, I can move on from cancer drugs and begin fertility drugs. 

I'm going to just put it all out there. I actually thought I was pregnant last month. In fact, I had several positive pregnancy tests at home. I had all the other crazy symptoms, and was so sick on our anniversary that we actually left Six Flags early. Knowing that false positives are extremely rare, I went to the doctor. She confirmed I was not pregnant. Surprisingly, I am not heartbroken. Confused, but not defeated.

So inside all the anxiety of thinking I was pregnant and then not being pregnant (and a new doctor basically accusing me that if I was pregnant I didn't care about my baby because I shouldn't get pregnant while taking this certain drug) I am hopeful. Whatever the outcome, I am hopeful.

And August isn't even here yet, so we've got lots of time to just sit around and hope. :)

Five Years a Loser

Five years ago today I stood in the drizzling rain at the edge of Capitol Lake in Olympia, Washington and a young man got down on his knee to ask if I would marry him. I didn't say yes. I cocked my head and said, "Yeeaaah..." because hard consonants were hard. I mean difficult. They were difficult. 

In retrospect I feel that a more confident answer would have been unlike me. It was this moment I knew was coming but nothing really prepares you for when you're finally in it. Yes, I wanted to marry him. We'd known we wanted to get married almost from the very beginning of our relationship. Still, when that time comes and you have to actually face the thing you have been wanting, the decision seems much more overwhelming and incomprehensible than it did when you were just dreaming about it. 

And in that moment, regardless of how confident my answer was, I forged my loser-ness with his loser-ness. We were losers together, even before the wedding. Before the vows and the rings and then the road trip cross-country and the fights and confusion and the years of wedded insanity... we were first losers together when I said, "Yeaaah..." Because for the first time, we had this tangible thing that was ours. A relationship is between two people but it is much more fluid and unpredictable than an engagement. An engagement is definitively us, it has a goal for us made by us which will be carried out by no one but us. 

On that day, we lost our selves--because a marriage begins long before the vows. A marriage begins when two people agree to get married and consequently agree that every decision from here until eternity is made by both, not one. 

Sure, I decide when I want to write a blog and he decides when he wants to buy coffee and we all decide when we're going to use the bathroom or make phone calls or cuddle with the dog. But we become aware that all things, even those small things, affect the other person and we begin to take that into account. This is the mindset that begins before marriage: you lose your self to accomodate the us that has just been made. So if I want to write a blog but I need to fold laundry, I do the laundry first. If he wants to buy coffee but it will make me late for work he skips out on the latte. We sacrifice and lose out on things we want for ourselves in order to benefit us as a whole. 

And in all the world there is no one I am more thankful for, more blessed by, more willing to be a loser with. 

I love you, Joseph. You make us such incredible losers.