Author / Bethe

by Bethe

Project 115

I’ve officially started Project 115, and I hope to stay accountable by posting about it here.

It all started one week after the wedding, when I got sick for the first time. Four months of basically going from work to bed and bed to work meant (1) I wasn’t able to work out, (2) I ate a lot because I felt sorry for myself, (3) I lost all of my muscle (or so it felt like) and with it my metabolism, (4) the more weight I gained, the frumpier I felt.
I became an old married lady before I’d barely even been married. I peaked at a brand-new 15 pounds. It was 10 pounds heavier than I had ever weighed before. None of my clothes fit, and I was too frustrated to buy something new, so I just wear the same thing over. And over. And over.
Blah.
But now I’m healthy and determined to get back to my January 8 wedding weight. Mr. Right is also determined to shed a few pounds, so we’re holding each other accountable.
Even though I didn’t start the new workout regimen until June 2, I did lose four pounds in the past two weeks from our never-ending home renovation project. Who knew that 10-hour painting sessions could burn so many calories?! Yea! So beginning yesterday, June 2, I had 11 more pounds to go.
I’m calling it Project 115. You can probably guess why. 🙂
Since Mr. Right and I lead wonderfully over-scheduled lifestyles (like this week – we worked on the house two nights, and had two fabulous dinners with friends… so no time to hit the gym after work) we have decided to work out BEFORE WORK. Like, at the crack of dawn.
I’m the one most likely to hit the snooze button, so we’ve agreed to hold each other accountable and force each other out of bed every single weekday morning at 5:30. The first day our alarm went off that early, Mr. Right jumped out of bed and flipped on our overhead light. There was no turning back after that.
So far, we’ve done two early-morning workouts in a row, which I think should count for extra credit in the form of extra weight loss. This morning, as we struggled to peel ourselves out of bed, I had to tell myself “We’re getting HOT. It’s going to be worth it.”
I’m doing P90X right now, simply because I don’t have to leave my house and I can happily sweat in the comfort of my air conditioned living room. If I get bored, I’ll tag along with Will at the gym. At this point, I’m just determined to get up and do SOMETHING every morning.
And so it begins. After two workouts I feel sore (nothing a little Advil can’t fix), and stronger, and I already feel better about myself. My goal is to lose the other 11 pounds by September 1.
Let’s do this.
by Bethe

The progression of the home renovation project

I never thought I’d be grown up enough to own one house… much less two.

Mr. Right and I currently own two houses – we had a “his” and “hers” before we got married, then combined into “ours” and after letting his old roommates rent “his” after we got married, we’re now ready to have just one. ONE.

But before we can sell the house, we needed to give it a small facelift. He bought it as a foreclosure and did some major upgrading to it about two years ago. But after phase one, his plan was to start phase two… and then he fell in love with me. So phase two got put on hold.
So now we’re on week three of the house facelift, which has included some major landscaping, repairing a fence, grinding a stump, painting two bathrooms, completely refinishing the kitchen cabinets, refinishing two sets of bathroom cabinets and some built-in shelves, painting trim, door ways, and touching up paint. Oh, and cleaning, installing new lighting and bathroom mirrors, getting the carpets cleaned and stretched, replacing outlet covers…
The list is never-ending.
And here is how it has gone so far.
Day 1: This is going to be a breeze. I bet I finish painting these two bathrooms before lunch – they’re small, how hard can they be? I’m going to be just like one of those girls on HGTV. Maybe I could start a design blog like this couple. Or this girl.
Day 1… 10 hours later: Oh my gosh, what have I gotten myself into? After 10 hours of hard labor, all I have to show for it is one painted bathroom and a half-finished one? Seriously?! Thankfully I got to work indoors, whereas my husband spent those 10 hours doing major landscaping tear-out, then came inside to install new bathroom lighting.
Day 3: My friend was so sweet to come help me paint the kitchen cabinets. See, this work stuff isn’t so bad! I bet it only takes two coats.
Day 5: I’m smart – I downloaded a book on tape to listen to while I paint those cabinets. By the time I finish Water for Elephants, I bet those cabinets look amazing! But… not sure two coats will be enough.
Day 7: Still working on those cabinets… and everything I own (including my clothes, my purse, my phone, my hair, my car, my dog) has white paint on it. And after the third coat… it still needs more.
Day 8: I have the best mother ever… she worked a whole day helping me with those kitchen cabinets. And yet we’re still not done… uh oh. Who knew it would take one coat of primer and THREE coats of paint?!
Day 11: My husband spends a whole day getting rid of junk left behind at the house, going to the dump, and doing various manly things around the house that involve copious amounts of sweat. For the record, he looks really cute in a tool belt.
Day 13: Well, I just finished that 14-hour audio book… and yet the cabinets are still there. I may not see a swimming pool until July at this rate. Mr. Right grinds a stump and tills some dirt… more manly things that I’m thankful he knows how to do, because I don’t. Anxiety has started to build as I enter my third weekend of painting.
Day 15: Kitchen cabinets are done! Now on to the 25 other projects on our list. Thankfully, my mom came back to prime bathroom cabinets, and my mother-in-law spent the whole day cleaning for us. My father-in-law helps us take down window screens so we can wash windows. My husband builds a fence. Oh, and the air conditioning goes out (just a minor break, praise Jesus), but $250 later, we’re back in business. After everyone leaves, I have a minor nervous breakdown about the 24 other projects still on my list. Somebody pass me some chocolate, or a Mexican wedding cookie (my current obsession).
Day 16 (Today): I can completely cross off one bathroom and one bedroom off my list. And the kitchen. And the living room. And I’m about to cross off bathroom #2. Things are progressing… maybe we will finish this after all. I download another audio book.
Tomorrow marks Day 17 of our extreme home makeover. For the first time since the morning of Day 1, I think I can see an end in sight. My hope is to be done next weekend. And after we sell, I can all but guarantee you that I will not (1) paint anything at my house this summer, (2) start a home renovation blog, (3) take my leisurely weekends for granted.
One more week.
by Bethe

Sand between our toes

This has been a crazy, intense 2011. In addition to settling in with my new husband and getting our house and our lives (and our bank accounts) intermingled and organized, I threw 10 very large special events in just 11 weeks, all while being sick and feverish and very, very tired. So you can imagine that our little vacation to the beach hit at exactly the right time.
We did a lot of resting last week – we jetted over to Rosemary Beach, Florida with Mr. Right’s side of the family for a wonderfully relaxing family getaway. We stayed in a gorgeous beach house and did nothing but read novels and build sand castles and take two-and-a-half-hour naps and eat, and eat, and eat. It was glorious.

I spent one of my favorite mornings sipping coffee with Mr. Right and his grandmother on this porch, listening to her weave tales about her long life. We just soaked up her wisdom and enjoyed some good advice and sweet stories from this godly matriarch, who has a habit of saying “I’ll just tell Jesus…” when you need prayer. I want to be like her when I grow up.
Rosemary Beach is filled with gorgeous beach house-mansions, and this one was our absolute favorite. It faced the water and can be yours for an easy-peasy $12,000 a week. Not exactly in the budget for this minister’s wife, but we did steal a few pictures on that movie-worthy front porch. Strangely enough, this makes me want to start wearing more teal and mustard… I love that combination.
Maybe it was the humidity, or all the saltwater, but I fell more googly-eyed for my husband on this trip than ever before. It was a total treat to get him all to myself for a whole week, without work or responsibilities or a schedule to keep. We rode bikes and swam and even had a date night that involved crab cakes and a walk on the beach. The sound of those waves is just intoxicating.
And, he built me the most tremendous sand castle a girl could ever ask for.

This was our home for the week, complete with wrap-around porches and a gourmet kitchen. I could really move here without blinking. Do I smell a church plant on the coast?

I fell in love with this thing (I can’t remember what they’re called), and asked Mr. Right to promise me that someday, at some point in our marriage, we can have one of these in our back yard. Lucky for me he’s handy, so I’m confident that he could build it, and I’m pretty sure I could hot-glue some ivy to it if we don’t manage to grow any. Can you imagine the candlelit dinners we could have under that thing? Sigh.
But now it’s back to reality… and like always, we managed to start another huge project – this time it’s getting a house ready to go on the market. I’m up to my eye balls in paint right now… you can tell what color our kitchen cabinets are by the tell-tale paint that I can’t seem to wash off my hands, arms, legs… even my hair. But man, is it turning out cute!
by Bethe

Twins, separated at birth

Mr. Right and I watched the most amazing movie last night – Life is Beautiful. It was the ideal movie for me – set in Italy, shot in Italian – reminding me of my two trips around Italy back in 2007 and 2009. I think it’s about time to go back.
But I loved the movie even more because the child star looks EXACTLY like my husband. Like, in a scary way. See for yourself.
My cute husband:

The actor:

My husband:
The actor:
My husband:

The actor:

My husband:

Maybe I’m biased, but I think my hubby is cuter!
by Bethe

Doing my happy dance

Today I’m spending the day in bed, not because I’m sick, but because I worked a 14-hour day yesterday putting on our annual black tie gala for work. It was incredibly stressful but I’m so very pleased at how it turned out. One of the benefits to being the one in charge is that I try to slip in little things that will make my husband and I happy that nobody else would ever notice. Last night I had the DJ play the first and last songs we danced to at our wedding. So, while everybody else enjoyed a regular dance, Mr. Right and I traveled back to our favorite night at Bass Hall and reminisced about the glorious time we both had. It was special.
In other news… I’m feeling better! I finally saw a specialist last Monday and got on new medicine that seems to have done the trick. I’m going to stay on for a good long while, but I’ll be switching to a low-dose version that should be much more tolerable… I can even get in the sun! Since I am wonderfully close to a little beach vacation, this was especially good news.
After a few weeks of feeling especially blue, it was so nice to have a week where I felt good. My energy is quickly returning, and I have a long list of things I want to do with my husband now that I’m able to be out and about again. Here’s the short list:
1. Go on a bike ride together
2. Take a picnic date to Trinity Trails in Fort Worth to watch the sun set
3. Ride the train to Dallas for dinner
4. Start RUNNING again!
5. Refinish the dresser we’re turning into a buffet for our dining room
6. Go on spontaneous Sonic runs after dinner… or other unplanned random weeknight date excursions
It seems like such a simple list, but these are all things we wanted to do but got cancelled over the last four months. I am simply ecstatic about the possibilities now.
Over the past four months my husband has shown me what a gem he is. On one of my very lowest days, this is what I found in our bathroom, a note he had left in a very loud way:
It was difficult to catch on camera, but it was a C.S. Lewis quote that made me melt all over my bathroom floor. I still can’t bring myself to clean this large love letter off my mirror, even though I know eventually I’ll have to. In the meantime I will just relish in this sweet gesture and be thankful that God has blessed me with such an encouraging man.
by Bethe

The latest

Well, I was tear-free for two whole days, and then yesterday I got frustrated again. My sweet husband has been oh-so kind to me and responds so sweetly to me when I get emotional. He usually asks “What’s your biggest frustration?” and then lets me verbalize all the crazy emotions going on in my head that haven’t yet formed any words.

Here’s how our conversation went yesterday:
Mr. Right: What’s your greatest frustration?
Me (in tears): I’m tired of not having any energy and it was a holiday and I wanted to have fun with my family but I was too tired to do much and I hate not getting to help clear the dishes and I feel like a lazy butt and I’m hurting and frustrated that my medicine isn’t helping and tired of taking my medicine and we’re newlyweds and we didn’t deserve to be dealing with sickness so early in our marriage this isn’t what our life is supposed to look like I’m mad at the world and frustrated and tired of having a bad attitude.
(sigh, I hate that he even had to sit through that)
Mr. Right: What’s your greatest joy?
Me (still in tears): Being married to you.
(now, at the moment that was all I could think of, but obviously this isn’t true… I’m so incredibly blessed and have been particularly thankful for a few friends and family members who have been praying me through this season… but in the middle of the tears, this was all I could muster)
Mr. Right: What do you think God is teaching us through all this?
(Don’t you just love my husband for asking questions like this? I sure do…)
There are several things I think God’s teaching us, but I think one of my biggest take-aways is this: As each part of my identity has changed, as each role that I’ve been so proud of has slowly disappeared, what is left? When I’m no longer a Sunday School teacher, or a leader, or petite, or physically fit, or a great hostess, and my social life is almost nonexistent… what’s left? When I’m not a domestic goddess keeping the perfect house for my husband… when I no longer feel beautiful… when I’m struggling to make it through the work day… when I can’t juggle and multi-task my life like I’ve always done… when I can’t do the things I want to do…
… then what?
Is God enough in those circumstances? Can I be thankful?
Or will I let the insecurities fighting for my mind win the battle? Will I be defeated? Will I give up?
NO. I may cry so much my eyelids swell (this really happens, my husband and I got a great laugh out of it one morning), but I will not let this kill my spirit.
Last night, after our conversation, I found this on my bathroom mirror. (Again, don’t you just love him? I sure do…)
And today I saw a specialist who thinks he can fix what’s wrong with me. Not only that, but he thinks he can fix it with meds that shouldn’t change my quality of life. I may be on antibiotics indefinitely, but they’ll be minor, low-dose drugs that should avoid many of the side-effects that I experienced during my first nine rounds. So I’m praying that doctor #4 and antibiotic #10 will do the trick and get me back to normal.
And when it does… I’m going to celebrate. By running a 10K. And I’m going to be incredibly thankful for the opportunity to do it.
by Bethe

Old sweatshirts and Vanilla Ice

It’s funny how smells and sounds can be so powerful. There’s a soap that takes me back to my sophomore year of high school, when I had a new driver’s license, a great group of friends, and my first real, hunky boyfriend. Every time I smell this Dove bodywash I’m taken right back to spring of 1997, when I sported my high-wasted jeans and fake Doc Martens.
I also love the smell of my husband. When I have a particularly rough day, I’ll steal one of his old t-shirts to wear to bed, and for some reason it brings me great comfort. I was worried that once he moved in and we started to commingle our laundry that this smell would fade, but somehow it survives. I think Mr. Right worries that this smell is more of an odor, but it’s not. It isn’t a cologne or soap, just… him. I can’t describe it, but any girl who’s borrowed her boyfriend’s sweatshirt probably knows what I mean.
Sounds are also so powerful. There are several songs (Vidalia, Baby Blue) that take me back to my annual two-week camping trip to Garner State Park back in high school. We would two-step to these old songs under big, starry skies in South Texas and relish in the freedom of being teenagers. Ace of Base reminds me of my first cheerleading tumbling classes back in the seventh grade, when I was trying to master that elusive back-handspring.
(I don’t have any pics of me learning the back-handspring, but here’s a
lovely photo of me from the 7th grade… look at all those braces. And those bangs!)
Vanilla Ice will always have a special place in my heart – his one-hit wonder is my absolute favorite song in the whole world (don’t judge me) and is a sure way to make me laugh. All of my closest friends have probably seen me perform the words by memory at least once. Maybe twice.
Over the last few months, as I’ve struggled with being sick and have gotten more discouraged, music has played a big part in bringing me comfort. I’ve always loved Ginny Owens, and this song in particular has been my anthem:
Cause I’m not who I was
When I took my first step
And I’m clinging to the promise You’re not through with me yet
so if all of these trials bring me closer to you
Then I will walk through the fire
If You want me to

So When the whole world turns against me
And I’m all by myself
And I can’t hear You answer my cries for help
I’ll remember the suffering Your love put You through
And I will go through the valley If You want me to


I love this because it talks about knowing that God is good even if he doesn’t seem to answer our prayers for healing, or rescue, or whatever it is we think we so desperately want. It reminds me that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, and that this trial, too, serves a purpose. It brings me great hope.

What songs have brought you comfort during difficult times? You know… besides Vanilla Ice?

by Bethe

A house full of eggs, none for cooking

My husband and I eat a lot of eggs. Correction: my husband eats a lot of eggs, and since I’m hugely influenced by peer pressure, I end up eating eggs with him. Boiled, fried, in stews and plain, my man loves his protein. And I love him.
There’s only one problem – he boils a dozen eggs at a time and then puts them back in the egg container so that they’re ready to grab when he’s on the go. I’d never thought about doing this before, so you can imagine my shock when I went to make him cupcakes as a thank-you for house sitting for me while I was on vacation last year, and the first egg I broke… was boiled.
Huh?!?!
I figured it was some sort of fluke from the egg manufacturing company, so I cracked a second. No dice. Boiled too. I went through and systematically broke every egg in my egg carton, and NONE were breakable.
Mr. Right never warned me about this little quirk of his. I quickly learned my lesson, but since we got married and he moved in, it has become a game… how do I decipher the cooking eggs from the batch of boiled ones? I try tapping them, shaking them, and to no avail – I’m never right. I closely examine the carton for some sort of labeling… and nothing.
And then I complain to my husband, and he shows me the very clear labeling he did on the INSIDE of the carton.
But when you’re a super stealth cook like me, you don’t bother to pull out the container of eggs and examine the INSIDE of the carton for the labeling. You just reach your hand in and hope for the best.
Maybe it’s the difference between men and women. Or maybe it’s because I’m usually in a hurry.
We’ve now worked up a compromise – he labels every square inch of our egg carton, and most of the time I am able to figure out his system.
by Bethe

My pity party had an after party

I know I said my pity party was only for one night. And that was the case… for a few days. By the weekend I started to feel better, and by Monday I felt better than I had in ages. I even told my husband that I was planning a bike ride the next night after work, something I haven’t been able to do in three weeks. I was ecstatic.

And then Monday night I felt my symptoms coming back… and by Tuesday I was downright sick. Again.
I cried. Like, six times. In fact, I cried and reapplied my eye make-up so many times that I’m sure I’ll have to add money to my Dave Ramsey envelope budget for an early make-up refill. It wasn’t pretty.
I just lost hope. Every time I start a new round of meds, I get optimistic that this round will work. Every time I have a symptom-free day, I do a little happy dance and celebrate my recovery. And then every time I realize that it was a false alarm, that I’m still sick, or worse, that I’ve been healthy and then two weeks later it comes back… I feel a little more defeated. My determination to be strong and to stay optimistic gets smaller and smaller.
So when my eighth round of antibiotics didn’t work… I felt crushed. I lost perspective. I felt like this will never end. I got mad because I don’t deserve this.
But it will. And today as I start a new round of meds, I am again optimistic that this time it will work. I continue to beg the Lord to heal me, and am thankful for a praying husband, family, and friends who have walked alongside me and encouraged me and prayed for me. I am struggling now, but I am confident that somehow this will make me stronger in the long run. And no matter my circumstances, I still know that I serve a loving, gracious, faithful God and that at no point has he been taken by surprise. I may have stumped the doctors but I haven’t stumped him. In that, I am confident, and for that, I am thankful.
Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you… And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.
1 Peter 5:6, 10

“But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Thereofre I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”
2 Corinthians 12:9-10
by Bethe

Day of rest

This week was my eighth week to be sick in the last three months. I’ve been trying hard to keep a good attitude, because I know this silly thing will pass and someday we’ll laugh about how the first three months of our marriage I spent most of my time stuck at home. But this week I decided to throw myself a pity party.

It wasn’t pretty, but thankfully it didn’t last very long.
I’m frustrated, tired of being tired, tired of hurting. Tired of barely making it through work, only to come home at the end of the day and crash on the sofa. Tired of not being able to work out. Tired of timing my meds so that they won’t make me sicker than I already am. Tired of going back to the doctor over and over and over.
I was told a few years ago that pity parties are okay, as long as they have a start and an end time. So I threw myself a mini-one Thursday night, wallowing in the feeling that life isn’t fair.
That party ended when I went to sleep. And now I’m over it.
I’m trying to do a better job of pacing myself, so I don’t completely run out of energy, and today was the perfect day to to recharge my batteries. Mr. Right let me sleep in, then we made a leisurely breakfast of waffles (my favorite), watched the new Harry Potter movie, then I went right back to bed for a nap and a good, long read. Tonight I’m going to a dinner party with some dear friends, and I should have plenty of energy to thoroughly enjoy myself.
I am blessed beyond measure. I am thankful for the health that I do have, and confident that this too shall pass… and soon! I am thankful for a sweet husband who dotes on me, and for friends who have been patient as I’ve had to cut back on my social life. It’s only temporary.

Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.
 1Thessalonians 5: 16-18 (NIV)