Category / Mr. Right

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

Our little cabin in the woods

I have a deep love for sipping coffee while sitting on a rocking chair on a covered porch. It’s one of my greatest loves. And last weekend, I got to do just that for two whole days. Let me tell you, it was glorious.


A very generous couple from our church let us stay at their little cabin in the woods, a mini-ranch in Graham, Texas, about two hours from home. This little house had no neighbors, no cell phone signal, and no paved road. It was nestled amongst wild trees and fish ponds, far from street lights and road noise. And responsibility.
It was just what Mr. Right and I needed… I’ve been sick for most of our first two months of marriage, so I haven’t had the energy to be as adventurous as I typically like to be. But praise Jesus, last weekend I was healthy and energetic and we thoroughly enjoyed our mini adventure.
What we did:
Slept in
Sat on the porch in our PJs and drank coffee
Read
Hiked the ranch, which was gorgeous
Fed the fish
Took a 3-hour nap (such a luxury)
Will went on a 7-mile run, while I sat on the front porch and hand-quilted my newest project (he’s training for a triathlon, so no days off for him!)
Ate like kings
Watched a John Wayne western
Had a really sweet time of prayer together
Admired sunsets
Laid in a hammock and gazed at the stars
Talked a lot about our first two months of marriage and dreamed about the future
What we did not do:
Check email
Talk to anybody
See anybody
Do anything responsible
It was such a special weekend, one that I will forever cherish. We are so grateful to the special couple who let us borrow it.
What a blessing.
by Bethe

He meant well

We were having such a chick-flick movie moment…

I was in the laundry room, folding the last bit of our week’s clothes so I’d be READY to tackle my week. Organized. In control. Relishing a peaceful evening with Mr. Right.
My wonderful husband was in the kitchen, making me comfort food (beef stew and cheesy cornbread because I’m sick… again). He walked into the laundry room, with a spoonful of stewy goodness, and sweetly offered me a taste.
He fed me the heaping spoonful…
And just then I realized that the soup was SCALDING HOT. Probably the same temperature as the surface of the sun. It was so hot I had to spit it out, and the rest of the spoonful dripped down my face and all over the laundry room floor.
After the burning stopped and Mr. Right knew the burns were only minor, we laughed. And laughed. Not exactly the way it happens in the movies.
by Bethe

By the numbers


It was one year ago tonight that I went on my first date with Mr. Right. 365 days. He says that was the night he knew he wanted to marry me. I get a bit sentimental about anniversaries – my sweet husband has been hearing a lot of this lately…

“Honey, one year ago today I started liking you.”
“Honey, one year ago today you asked for my phone number.”
“Honey, one year ago today I got so mad at you because you didn’t call me for a WHOLE WEEK after asking for my number… and then you made it all better by FINALLY asking me out. And I melted. And I’ve never been the same.”
So it’s been 365 glorious days. Here are some other recent milestones, by the numbers:
44: Number of days since I married Mr. Right
78,943: Number of times I’ve thanked the Lord for blessing me with Mr. Right.
0: Number of nights I’ve slept through the night since marrying Mr. Right
0: Number of nights I’d trade Mr. Right for a good night’s sleep
3: Number of books I’ve read on my Nook in the past 44 days
2: Number of those books I’d recommend (Laura Bush’s autobiography, and the new John Grisham novel)
1: Number of Nicholas Sparks books I’ve read this month that I thought were utterly worthless
15: Number of days I’ve been on antibiotics this month (three more to go)
4: Number of meds I’ve run through trying to get better
3: Number of times I’ve forced myself to eat yogurt because that’s what you do when you take antibiotics, even though I’m not sure why (and I hate yogurt)
2: Number of times I’ve been to the doctor
2: Number of dates we’ve been on that ended with me ALMOST throwing up on my husband
687: Number of times people have joked/suggested/thought that the reason I’m sick is because I’m pregnant (they’re wrong)
1: Number of dinner parties I’ve hosted since January (we’ll make that two, later this week)
15: Number of times I would have hosted a dinner party if I hadn’t been sick all month
1: Number of times I visited my beloved old Sunday School class, just to say hello
1: Number of new Bible studies I’ve joined this month – Isaiah is rocking my socks off
768: Number of times I’ve thought, “Ummmm….????” while studying Isaiah
Every time: Number of times I’ve studied Isaiah and been convicted, encouraged, or in awe of the God I serve
I may now glow in the dark from all of the drugs that have flowed through my system these past few weeks, but this time has been such a blessing… full of belly laughs and aha moments, good books and forced rest.
by Bethe

Adventures as a newlywed: The “Aha!” Moments


I’m not sure I ever thought I’d get married. I always hoped I would, but deep down in the darkest recesses of my mind there was always a lingering thought of “What if I NEVER find Mr. Right?” I prayed for years that if God wanted me single, that I could be content with that. In fact, that was the toughest prayer to pray – even the “Lord, wherever you lead me, I’ll go” missionary prayer was easier than the “If you want me to be single, then I’ll be single”prayer. And yet I finally got there, and prayed it, and most days I meant it.

But thankfully God knew I’d find Mr. Right. It just took me 30 years, three apartments, one rent house, my current home, and 13 roommates to seal the deal. In the meantime, I got pretty good at taking care of myself. Good at figuring out how to hang pictures, lift heavy boxes, and repair things with duct tape (you can fix ANYTHING with duct tape).
And then one day I woke up and I found myself living with a HUSBAND. (gasp). Let me tell you, it’s glorious. And funny. And a little weird. But mostly glorious. Here are some of my favorite “Aha!” moments of our first month as newlyweds.
1. Before Mr. Right, I slept on a bed frame that was held together by duct tape. For SEVEN YEARS. Back in 2004 I didn’t know how to put it together, so instead I figured I’d just wrap it in a pound of duct tape and pray that my mattress never came crashing down. And it didn’t, even through three moves. But now I have a handy husband who not only correctly put together our bed frame, but drilled it into our headboard. Watching him with his power drill was SO hot.
2. There is a work bench. In my garage. With tools on it. Before Mr. Right moved in, all of the tools I owned could fit into a tiny clear plastic Target bin, slightly larger than a bread box. I’m pretty sure Mr. Right just threw all of that out. I’m also pretty sure he’ll never use my high heel as a hammer… which I did too many times to count.
3. I wash boy clothes. Mr. Right found me gigglin in the laundry room one night, saying “I’m folding MEN’S underwear!” Who would have ever thought! Silly thing is, I’m secretly so grateful to have the chance to do that for him. There were many lonely nights where I would have given my right arm for the chance to fold a man’s clothes if it meant having one to love me. Mr. Right told me that folding his underoos isn’t necessary, but I can’t bear the thought of stuffing a jumbled mess into his drawers. And so I fold his laundry and thank the good Lord for bringing him to me.
4. Someone else brings my trash cans in from the curb. This is something I’ve hated doing all my life, and every time I come home to find my trash cans neatly back in their place inside our garage, I get a bit sentimental. I think Mr. Right is just relieved that I’m so easily pleased.
5. There is a man in my bed! For a girl who has slept alone for 30 years, this has taken some getting used to. I haven’t had a solid night’s sleep in over a month, but every time I wake up to the sensation that someone is lying next to me, I am so thankful that he’s there. And he knows I’m there, because my icy cold feet keep kicking him in my sleep. Sorry about that.
6. He brings me coffee in the morning. Before Mr. Right came along, one of my favorite things was the rare occasion where I would remember to set the coffee pot up the night before and the automatic timer would brew my coffee and have it ready when I woke up. Now my automatic brewer is this cute brown-eyed thing who brings it in every morning as I shake off my sleepiness. It’s my favorite thing. He also cooks me breakfast.
7. Before Mr. Right came, I used to hang pictures with thumb tacks and duct tape. Now we use wall anchors and a drill. We were lying in bed one night, and I bragged to him that I had hung the very large, very heavy piece of artwork that was hanging over our headboard. And then I saw a look of panic rush over his face as he very quietly asked me… “What did you hang that with?” Don’t worry… I used a LOT of tacks. You can never be too safe! (Just kidding, I used wall anchors. But I’m not good at measuring so there may or may not be about a dozen mistake-holes behind that gorgeous piece of artwork, which we can NEVER TAKE DOWN.)
8. He asked me why I don’t have any towel hooks in my bathroom. I told him it’s because I don’t know how to install them. The same reason every Christmas decoration I own was in my garage – because I can’t lift the boxes into my attic. I have spent my whole life trying to figure out how to create a life that doesn’t require much help, and all of a sudden I have a helper living with me. I still can’t believe it. I am so, so thankful.
So married life is a bit weird (there is a 5-pound bag of protein in my pantry and men’s razors on my shopping list), but it’s also the most fun thing I’ve ever experienced. I think I could get used to this.
PS–Photo above is courtesy of McGowan Images. Check ’em out! (Our entire wedding gallery is posted there.)
by Bethe

Love, homemaking, and ear wax

There are some things I knew marriage would be. I knew it would be fun. And challenging. I knew I would get to live with my very best friend, that we would share a lot of laughs, some tears, and that we would grow closer than we ever knew was possible.

But three weeks in, I never knew we’d be SO COMFORTABLE with each other. Like, scary comfortable. Look-at-each-others’-ear-wax-comfortable.

That’s right, we decided to undergo an ear candling experiment, and we’re hooked! It was pain-free, effective, and both of us will do it again. We’ve had a lot of “I can’t believe we’re doing this” moments since we got married, but this one might have been the funniest. I’m not sure a couple has ever laughed as hard as we did as we took turns holding a giant flame 12 inches from one another’s heads. A total riot.

I think my hippie husband is starting to rub off on me. He even has me listening to NPR. (gasp)

Other than the wild and crazy ear candling date, we’ve been hard at work trying to get our home unpacked and organized. I’ve lived here for four years now, but suddenly combining my things, his things, our new wedding gifts, plus all of our wedding supplies made for an unruly house. Slowly but surely we’re tackling the house room-by-room until everything is finished. As if everything ever could be finished.

Here’s what I want my entire house to look like:

(photo from the decor8 blog)

But this is what my spare bedroom looks like right now:
Now, in my defense, this is the VERY LAST ROOM on our list. This is what we have so lovingly called “the wedding room” because it housed all of our wedding supplies, wedding gifts, and anything else that I had to furiously move out of the way so my beloved Mr. Right could move in. It’s still where we stash all the stuff we don’t know what to do with, and it’s so easy to close the door and make everything disappear. It’s my lowest priority. But very soon, I promise it’ll look like this:

(Photos from decor8… can you tell I’m sort of in love?)

Never fear, my whole house isn’t in shambles… just that one room. And maybe a closet or two. Last night I tackled my home office, and I’m quite proud of how it turned out! I even ended up with TWO EMPTY CABINETS! Go me.

by Bethe

How I froze my husband out on our first date as a married couple

It all started about a week ago. I felt “off,” but thought I was just tired from the honeymoon. By Wednesday, when Mr. Right had finally convinced me to go to the doctor, I was in full-fledged misery. I get so nervous when I have to go to the doctor – part of me hopes they don’t accuse me of faking anything, and the other part hopes they don’t find out that I have some sort of exotic and totally embarrassing disease that I won’t be able to tell anyone about.
Which explains why this doctor visit went so… badly. First stop at this doctor is the ever-so-fun pee-in-the-cup test. I was feeling so crummy and was so anxious to see the doctor and get back to a busy day at work, that I got distracted. And went. But not in the cup.
(gasp)
Just as I finished my going, I realized I was STILL HOLDING THE CUP. That I forgot to actually use the cup for the aforementioned purpose. And there was NOTHING left in me. You can imagine my panic. I tried and tried and begged the good Lord to let me go just a little bit more. But nothing. I grabbed my water bottle out of my gigantic-yet-fashionable mom-purse and chugged it, hoping that by some miracle my body would quickly do whatever it does with water to make me need to go to the bathroom. Nothing.
I heard the lab folks open the tiny door to see if I had finished with my “specimen.” After all, I’d been in there several minutes. Nothing. I started to wonder… maybe I could just retrieve a little out of the toilet? Or maybe jumping up and down might help?
I finally managed a minuscule amount, and then found the nurse and explained to her what happened, trying to use a little humor to diffuse the situation.
She didn’t think it was funny. She looked at me like I was an alien.
Luckily, a minuscule amount was plenty. And the doc confirmed that I was indeed sick, doped me up on plenty of meds, and sent me on my way. Yet I got sicker, and sicker, so Friday she switched my meds. And I learned a valuable lesson.
Don’t take new meds for the first time on a hot date with your husband. Especially after eating a hamburger as big as your head. And especially when the side effect of those meds involves nausea. And vomiting.
Mr. Right takes great joy in planning the most fun dates EVER, and Friday night was no exception. He took me to our favorite burger dive M&O (seriously the best burger in the whole world), and then off to the Fort Worth Rodeo. We had to park about a mile away, and I realized on that walk that I wasn’t feeling well. But I was so excited that I thought I’d plug through and the feeling would pass.
It didn’t. It got worse as we hiked up to the very top of the coliseum. As we watched cowboys rope, wrestle, and ride various livestock, I started feeling worse. And worse. And worse. ‘Til Mr. Right looked over at me, about half-way through the show, and said, “I need to take you home – you look like you’re about to pass out.” Which, for the record, that was exactly how I felt, but I kept hoping the passing out feeling would pass, and I could get back to my hot date with my hot husband. Did I mention he was wearing a cowboy hat? (sigh)
So we walked another mile back to the car. At one point, my sweet husband, who’s the most hot-natured person I know, complained about how cold it was–it was below 30 degrees. And I told him that I felt fine, maybe even a bit warm. That’s when he knew I was really sick.
Oh, and I almost puked on his shoes in the parking lot. But I didn’t. Mr. Right piled me into his pickup truck and drove me home. He and I both knew that one bad bump and I’d be throwing up all those meds I’d taken with dinner (along with the greatest burger in the world). He very sweetly moved his cowboy hat out of my lap and onto his head for safe keeping, and suggested I crack the window to allow some fresh air to come in. Which I did…
Did I mention it was about 28 degrees? And we were going 60 on the highway? The more cold air that came in, the better I felt. My feverish self was so hot that the frigid air was a tiny relief. Soon I was practically hanging my head out the window.
My husband, on the other hand, almost froze to death on that 20 minute ride home. But true to his character, he didn’t complain. He just said, “If you had ever told me that YOU would freeze ME out, I never would have believed it!”
Mr. Right got me home, and I ever so gingerly crawled into bed, fully clothed in my best rodeo get-up. Sometimes you’re just too sick to change clothes. And my sweet husband, in a gesture of true romantic chivalry, found a trash can and placed it next to my bed. You know, just in case.
And that’s how my first date as a newlywed ended. No romance, just me curled up in the fetal position, wearing my rodeo clothes. Not exactly the date we had both envisioned… but it made me love him so much more.