Simplify.

I can't quite explain how important this blog has been to my life.

Our entire life story is right here, on the seemingly never-ending pages of this blog.

This blog has been a good friend to me, it has been therapy, it has kept me going as a mother and as a wife.  It has kept me in touch with family and friend who love us and who would never have been able to experience life with us aside from here. 

I created this blog to keep in touch with family, and never in my wildest dreams would I have known how much inspiration, hope and growth would come from it.  People know me from this blog, people have been inspired by my words on this blog.  I have gotten the most touching, heart warming messages and letters from my dear friends and followers of this blog.  This blog has been a critical part of my story and that is priceless to me.  I believe I have become a better mother and a better person through this blog.

With how much our life is changing and growing, and how opportunities keep coming our way, I have made a major decision to simplify.  I have been posting to my professional page, all things professional.  I have posted all my personal stuff here, but the two blogs have taken a lot of precious time.  As my business and family continue to grow, I feel strongly the time has come to condense parts of my life.  After much praying and thinking and waiting, I have decided to post strictly (at least for now) on my new and improved site,

http://cassmillerblog.com/ 

It's a bit scary, and it's extremely bittersweet.  But I truly feel this is what I'm supposed to be doing right now in my life, and I believe it will help me to enjoy the things I love most in this life and that I will have more time to write about and share those things.

It's a little scary! This place has been safe to me, I've trusted to write about such personal things here and posting it somewhere else seems a little foreign.  I hope that you will all follow me over there and maybe leave me words of encouragement or support me somehow through this transition in my life.  Nerves aside, I'm really excited about these changes.

I have truly poured my heart and soul into this blog.  My life as a wife started here, my life as a mother started here, my life as photographer started here.  I am hoping to step things up and challenge myself to write more.  Because I love it, because I think my children will someday love it, and because through writing my story, I have grown so so much.

So if you wish to continue to follow our story, please update my link to this one. :) http://cassmillerblog.com/

And most importantly, thank you to all my sweet followers/friends.  You have touched my lives in so many ways.  Thank you, thank you, for following us on our journey.

xoxo, C

The Story of Us | The Finale

On the blog this week, I am recounting our love story to celebrate our 4th wedding anniversary.

My days being pregnant with my second baby, I think of so fondly.  Brady was everything to me in that time.  He had so far succeeded my expectations of a husband during that pregnancy.  He picked up the slack when my ever growing body couldn't keep up to what it used to.  He listened to my endless conversations about our birth experience and my recent studies covering every aspect of the subject.  He went from class to class with me, completely letting me indulge my life into this aspect I had grown so close to.  He rubbed my back every single night.

I felt great during this pregnancy, so unlike my first.  I was so happy and grateful for everything.  My health, my family, my dear husband, there was so much to be thankful for.

The end of my pregnancy neared and I had all the hopes and signs for an early delivery.  When I watched my 38th, 39th and 40th week pass, I started giving in to the misery that comes in the last days of pregnancy. Brady's patience for my moping was never ending.  He would call in the mornings to check on me, bring me lunch during his break and even schedule extra time in to just be with me.  On my due date, he took me out on a date and was ever-so-sensitive and sweet.  When I woke up one morning, after falling asleep to 5 hours of consistent contractions that seemed to have stopped, Brady held me while my tears of disappointment could no longer be held in.

The morning my water finally broke, Brady was back home within 10 minutes of my call.  We went out to lunch, stopped by Target again and got home just in time to put our 19 month old down for a nap which Brady took care of so I could lay down myself and get some rest.  Just minutes after he walked back into my room, my contractions started.

Just like he had trained for the event, Brady would automatically come right over to me, press on my hips and lower back and gently rub my back.  Without me even having to tell him, he knew exactly how to make me feel better, to get relief as my contractions peaked, and how to encourage me through the next one.

At one point during my labor, Brady stepped out for a second and my doula stepped in to push my tail bone and rub my back how Brady had been doing.  Immediately, I longed for his touch.  The second he came back, as nicely as I could during a contraction, swatted her hand away and said, "Brady, please!" He came to me and I immediately felt comfort.

Our entire labor was just Brady and I, doing our thing.  I was so surprised by how well he knew my body and my preferences in such a vulnerable time.  I felt so safe and secure near my strong husband.  I knew I could lean on him completely and somehow it was all going to be fine, that he had enough strength for the both of us to get us through our labor.

When I knew she was coming, Brady softly helped me over to the birthing area where all my favorite pillows and blankets were right near me.  I never asked for sure, but I'm almost positive Brady had something to do with that -- knowing how important my pillows were to me at that time.  He laid right down beside me, his sweet words of encouragement as I was delivering our baby meant everything to me right then.  Time had seemed to almost stop for me to marvel at this man at my side.  He had gotten me through the hardest thing my body had ever had to do, with completely grace and ease.  He gave me nothing but loving support through my entire labor, and my entire pregnancy, and really, my entire life.  I felt so proud to be delivering our child.  The second life we had created together, right here in this very room.  I was so proud to be his wife.  The one he chose to spend his life with.

As I reached down to softly pull our child from my body, I felt as if God himself was placing her in my arms. Immediately the feeling that something was missing disappeared.  She was here!  Our Stella was here.  Of course it was her!  I knew her all long, it seemed.

I held her in my arms so overcome with joy and happiness, I couldn't stop saying her name, "Stella! You're here! Oh, my Stella!" while my husband happily wept into my shoulder.  We did it.  We really did it!

Later that day, Brady would recount our labor to our family and friends.  I'd overhear him saying, "your daughter is a champion!" to my mom, or "yep, she did it at home with NO drugs.  She was so tough, man!" to his friends on the phone.  He was so proud of me!  The thought gave me butterflies.  Somehow beyond my comprehension, my love for my darling husband grew again by the thousands that day.  I loved that man more than I knew was possible.    

Something happened that day, the day of our second daughter's birth.  Something sacred and divine and something I can't quite explain.  But we became a true family that day.  We realized our full potential as husband and wife, mother and father.  I realized that day how close we are to our Father in heaven, and how blessed we are to have these callings in life.  It's as if everything in my life up until this point suddenly made perfect sense, and our future going forward was now crystal clear.

To this day, just after our 4th wedding anniversary and as we're preparing to celebrate this child's second birthday, I am still stunned by how much love I have for my husband and how grateful I am for our family.  Every positive aspect of my life, my girls, my work, my everyday enjoyments are directly attached to my Mr. Miller.  My life truly began the day he walked into my life and I am forever grateful to God for sending him my way.

It was important for me to write this story of us, for our daughters.  I hope that we model to them a healthy and loving marriage and that they too will seek guidance from God to help them throughout their life, and that they may find their perfect mate to spend their life with, as I have.  I know they are the luckiest girls alive to have Brady for a daddy, and I feel unimaginably blessed to be able to call him my husband.

Thank you for four wonderful years of marriage, my sweet!  I look forward to many, many more.

xoxo,

C  

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part one
part two
part three
part four

The Story of Us | Part Four

On the blog this week, I am recounting our love story to celebrate our 4th wedding anniversary.

It took us about an hour to adjust to the idea that we were really having a baby.  Once the initial shock had worn off of this major curve ball in life, I couldn't be more thrilled.  I was so surprised by how instant the love for my baby was.  Just twelve hours ago being a mom hadn't crossed my mind and now I wanted it more than anything I had ever wanted in my life.  I wanted this baby.  Our baby.

My pregnancy went by at a snails pace.  I was sicker than a dog almost every single day since I had hit my 8th week.  I had to quit at Cafe Rio because the thought of it made me want to puke.  I couldn't go near the place.  I continued working full time at the mortgage company and when I got home at 6:00, I would climb directly into bed.  My darling husband would bring me ramen noodles or cereal (his specialty!) every single night for dinner.

We were thrilled to find out we were having a girl, although I already knew in my bones that's what we were having.  Brady was thrilled to have a little girl and the way he lit up talking about it made me weak in the knees.

Two weeks before I delivered Harlo, we moved from our Duplex downtown to a tiny little cottage-style condo that was built in the 50's and was buried in Ivy.  There were two bedrooms, wood floor throughout and the entire backside was floor to ceiling windows that overlooked a garden and a grassy valley of mature trees.  It had a cozy little fireplace and a teeny tiny kitchen.  It was perfect.  I spent our first days there doing all the baby girl laundry, folding it neatly and placing it into her newly assembled drawers.

December 17th at 1:10pm, when I was 37 weeks 3 days pregnant, my first contraction hit, and they kept coming every 2-3 minutes for the rest of the day.  It was a snowy night, the first snow storm in years, when my nervous husband arrived home to a laboring wife.  There was still so much I needed to do before our baby arrived, so there I was unpacking boxes, doing the last bouts of laundry, putting the bascinet together.  If this baby was really coming tonight, we had some work to do.  We stopped by Target on the way to the hospital for nursing bras, a robe and slippers for the hospital and some snacks for Brady during labor.  Twice in Target I had to stop and bend over the cart through my contractions, so we picked up our step and rushed over (carefully -- snow storm, remember?) to the hospital.  We arrived at 11pm at night and settled in for a sleepless night of checking, moinitors and nerves.

At 2:50pm the next day, 26 hours after my first contraction, we successfully delivered a healthy, gorgeous, viviacious little girl.  My Harlo was here.  She was head-to-toe perfection.

Moments after she was placed on my chest, I looked up at my husband with complete adoration and look what we just did written all over my face.  I didn't think it was possible to love this man anymore than I already did, but somehow my love for him seemed to have expanded by what seemed like the thousands.  My heart was so full it practically ached with love.

Watching Brady hold our tiny little girl for the first time was almost surreal.  Here was the man that I loved deeply, whom I had created a life with, who was now holding and admiring our little girl with the same love and adoration on his face that I felt.

A few days later we cozied into our little cottage with our new little family.  We were completely smitten.  After several days off, Brady headed back to work, coming home as frequently through the day as he could manage, and I had settled graciously into my life as a new mom.  I loved marveling at my wee little one, nursing her near the fireplace during the day, reading all the parenting, baby and birth books I could get my hands on.

I was truly amazed by how sweet and fulfilling my life was.  It was my first real testiment as to how good and faithful God is.  I knew that I was living the life I was created to live.  I felt so blessed, so happy, so loved.  Even though my life was completely different than I had imagined it being, it was worlds better.  In fact, I had never ever dared to dream of a life so sweet.

..............................................................................

Six months after Harlo was born, I was working a couple nights a week waiting tables and spending the rest of my time as a happy mama.  We were completely outgrowing our tiny cottage.  You had to step over the baby swing, the bouncer, walk around the dog bed, climb over the high chair just to get a drink of water.  It was time to move.  Again.

We found a quaint little house near the back of my sister's neighborhood.  It was a modest, cozy little 3 bedroom home.  Plenty of room for everything with a little growing room.  It was down the street from the restaurant that I worked, and close to family to dote over our baby.

We settled in to our new home, feeling like real grownups.  We had a happy little family in the suburbs.  And even though we were happier than our little hearts could handle, it became apparent that something was missing.

"I think I'm being asked to have another baby," I told Brady one summer night after successfully rocking our baby to sleep.  While I'm sure he was a little stunned at the bold statement, he was used to the fast-pace style of our life by now and nothing that came out of my mouth seemed to catch him off guard anymore.  "Let's think about that for a while," he answered and with that started a lot of praying, thinking and planning.

I knew it sounded crazy, we just had a baby.  But that couldn't stop the nagging feeling I felt to deliver another little one.  It felt so right.  I knew this is what I was meant to do.  I started praying, "God, I feel like you're calling me to have another baby.  If this is what is right for my family, please help me and my husband get on the same page and make this decision together."  Before long, Brady was on a board.

We were a little nervous to actually plan for a baby since our last baby came without any planning at all.  I've had some medical issues where I had to have one of my ovaries removed and even though we now knew I could have a baby, we still weren't sure what to expect for a "trying" period.  I mindlessly got off birth controll on October 24th, taking the first step in our preparation.  I was nervous.  For years I had dreaded the thought of wanting to get pregnant and not being able to.  It's probably why I was previously putting off being a mom altogether for so long.

On November 24th, one month to the day since I got off birth control, we found out we were pregnant.  Ha! All that worrying for nothing.  It confirmed for me that this really was God's will and what we should be doing.

The next day was Thanksgiving, my first time cooking the holiday dinner, and in our own home.  I became overwhelmed by my blessings.  After all that I had been given in the last year, I was being given more.  It was hard for me to wrap my head around, but I was so grateful.

We had a wonderful dinner, my favorite Thanksgiving to date.  That night we laid in bed, still on a high from discovering our pregnancy the night before (which we hadn't mentioned to family yet) Brady was still a little skeptical because the second line on the test this time around was fairly faint.  He wanted to wait and take another test before he let himself really get attached to the idea.  I knew this was my husband's way of protecting himself from disapopintment, as he was completely thrilled to be having another baby.  I humored him and took another digital test the next day.  PREGNANT, it read.  He sighed a huge sigh of relief.  I wrapped my arms around that man and smooched his sweet face.

"I want to have this baby at home," I revealed the second part of my calling from God now that the timing was right.  Brady, like any caring husband and father, had his reservations about the unfamiliar territory, but agreed to check it out.  The following week we started interviewing midwives.

We left our first midwife's meeting, even though she wasn't the right fit for us, I was feeling hopeful and excited about the possibility of having this baby naturally, in our own home.  Brady settled into the car next to me, looked at me and said, with utmost certainty, "We're doing this.  We're having this baby at home."    I knew that my prayers about us being on the same page were being answered.  I was so thrilled and excited to experience this next chapter of our lives, together.  I swore to myself I would have a hundred babies with this man if he wanted me to.  I knew the experience would be big, but the reality of how immensely it would affect our marriage and our lives, I could have never dreamed of.

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part one
part two
part three

The Story of Us | Part Three

On the blog this week, I am recounting our love story to celebrate our 4th wedding anniversary.

**disclaimer : there is talk in a rather delicate nature, of the woman variety in this part of our story.  If that makes you nervous, feel free to skip this post. ;)

I moved back to Utah in March, a year from our first date but it felt like a lifetime.  It was a beautiful Spring and so good to be back home with my love.  Bady and I had settled into a little duplex in the heart of St. George -- our first home together.

We were having the time of our lives.  It was like realizing we got to have a sleepover with our best friend for the rest of our life.  Brady was still working hard with his computer business, which had grown out of his parents garage into a busy, hustle and bustle location.  I started applying for jobs where I could and landed two.  Part time at Cafe Rio and full time secretarial work at a mortgage company.

The first few weeks back in Utah just flew by.  There was so much to do and think about that I hadn't been paying much attention to myself.. namely, my body. One May morning while I was in the shower, I was washing under my arms and flinched at what felt like bruises on the side of my breasts.  Very strange, I thought.  Puzzled, I got out of the shower and started doing the menstrual math.  I remembered vaguely my sisters saying something about tender breasts, but surely it must be my period that was just around the corner.. wait, when was my last period?  I couldn't remember.  I brushed it off because certainly I wasn't pregnant.  That would just be crazy.  We hadn't even dreamed of starting a family yet, not at least for 5 more years.  We had a lot of traveling planned.

That day I didn't pay much attention it, but did try and think of when I should be expecting my period..  I woke up the next morning and it hit me that my last period was just before Easter. - Oh, see?  No big deal.  It's May now so Easter was only a few weeks ago, isn't it always in April? - I checked the calendar casually to be sure.  Easter usually is in April, except for this year when it was the earliest it has ever been, March 23rd.  It was now May 10th.  WHAT??? Still, I thought, it must just be something crazy with mother nature as again, I was positive, I was NOT pregnant.

It was Saturday and Brady wasn't working.  We went ran some last minute errands, the next day was Mother's day and we still had to get cards for our moms.  We stopped by to get some lunch at Durangos.  I was suddenly STARVING and too ornery to finish up our errands.  I hastily ordered a chicken burrito and the smell of it was intoxicating.  My stomach started to grumble.  We sat down and I quickly started eating, and eating, and eating.  I finished my entire burrito, something I don't think I've ever done in the history of eating at Durangos.  As I finished my last bite, I quietly told Brady that I thought I might be a smidgen "late" and that we maybe should get a pregnancy test just to prove I was not.

A bit panicked, Brady agreed.  We stopped at Albertson's on our way home.  Brady pulled into a parking spot and waited for me to exit the car.  "I can't go in there!  What if someone sees me?!" I exclaimed.  Anxiety was creeping in.  "What if someone sees me?" Brady asked, "More people know me on this side of town, just go! I can't." and with that, he headed for the door.

Ever the prepared, Brady got a few different tests... just to be sure.  I quickly ran into our spare bathroom to take the test, I wanted to be sure it was negative so we could carry on with our Saturday.  I sat down and as the first drop of urine hit the small stick, a bright purple second line rapidly appeared.

Before my brain could register what that meant, I heard my spirit speak directly to me for the first time in my life, "This is your daughter, her name will be Harlo.  Everything is going to be okay." and a comforting peace washed over me.

Like a zombie, I walked out of the bathroom to greet my anxiously waiting Brady.  His eyes were the biggest I'd ever seen them.

"It's positive," I half-laughed blurting it out. holy shit, it's positive. I thought.  I couldn't quite wrap my head around everything that had happened in the last 30 seconds.

"Maybe you should take another one," Brady suggested.  I did, and sure as sin, It was positive.

We were having a baby.

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part one
part two

The Story of Us | Part Two

On the blog this week, I am recounting our love story to celebrate our 4th wedding anniversary. 

The first months of our relationship were a bit of a whirlwind.  I was 18 and working as a surgical assistant, 11-12 hour days.  Brady was 23 and had quit his job and started up his very own business, Lifeguard Computers, which he was running out of his parent's garage at the time.

I tease (but not really) that I was a bit of a damzel in distress when we first got together.  It was definitely a year of transition for me. The months before I started dating Brady, I had broken up with my high school boyfriend that was what I would imagine what most post-high-school-break-ups are like in a small town.  My high school friends were in the position of picking sides, and the reality of that hurt me.  I was suddenly shoved into the real world where my life-long friends were no longer acquaintances.  I moved TEN times that year, I had a Jetta that broke down more than my single-girl salary could keep up with, my parents had both moved out of state and all my sisters were married and raising their own families.  I was drowning in a sea of mechanic fees, packing/unpacking, 50 hour work weeks and desperately trying to stay afloat.

It was then, and still is beyond me how and why Brady stayed around through all that craziness.  Constantly moving me from this apartment to that, picking me up from work when my jetta was in the shop, eating ramen noodles with me in my empty apartment when that's all I could afford to do...

But he did.  He stuck around and never so much as batted a lash at the tornado I called life.  When my roommate was moving to another state, or getting married, or moving back home, Brady was right there with his truck to move me to the next place.  When my Jetta was broken down, Brady was pulling it into his dad's shop to see what we could do to fix it on our own.  When I needed a friend to talk to, to lean on, a shoulder to cry on, Brady was right there giving me just what I needed.  He was the best friend I ever had, and he loved me.  He loved me like no one else in my life had ever loved me before.  He was understanding, and unconditional no matter what problem arose.

After about six months, I needed to get away.  I loved Brady dearly, but neither of us were ready for marriage and I knew that if I wanted to ever move out of this small town, I better do it now.  Like all the other crazy circumstances that had come up in that 6 months, Brady was supportive as ever for me to get away for a few months.  I think he knew how hard it had been on me and how desperately I needed a fresh start and that this was the only way I could think of to get it.  Breaking up with Brady when I moved to Austin, Texas was never so much as a thought.  It never got brought up in conversation and it never crossed my mind.

The days leading up to my move, Brady helped me pack what would fit in my car and store the rest.  We talked about our phone conversations and how we would stay in touch.  We talked about visiting and how we would schedule a visit every month and take turns flying each place.  I have no idea if Brady was secretly falling apart about me going, but he never showed that side to me.  While I knew he would miss me, he seemed so proud of me for making such a big decision and sticking to it.

I changed my phone number, email address and everything I could think of.  I needed a fresh start, I needed something different than what I was doing.  So I packed my jetta, prayed that it would make it and set off for Austin.

I felt immediately relived and while I knew I had made a good decision, leaving Brady behind was one of the hardest things I've had to do.

..................................................................

Austin was amazing!  It was beautiful, fun, and had an endless amount of things to do.  The day I arrived there I got a job at an amazing plastic surgeons office, doing what I loved and what I knew how, surgery.  I was young and free with a great job in an awesome city... but even all of that couldn't cure the homesickness I felt for my Brady.

My first week in Austin, I got invited to attend a huge non-denomination christian church there, Gateway, and from the second I sat down, I knew why I was in Austin.  My world had been so crazy in Utah because I wasn't following any divine guidance.  Gateway Church made that click for me and immediately I desperately wanted to seek out the life that God had intended for me.

True to his word, 3 weeks after my move, Brady was on a plane to visit.  We had a wonderful time wondering around, discovering the city, celebrating Christmas together early and seemed to had fallen into a deeper level love that trip.

I don't remember a time really when it hit me like a ton of bricks that I loved Brady and he was the one for me.  Our relationship and our love was just so easy.  It came so natural.  We laughed at all the same things and having fun together was just a given.  I could talk to Brady without feeling judgement of any kind, no matter the subject.  Sometime after we started dating, while I was living in Austin I realized there was no one else I would rather spend my life with.  That I could, but didn't want to ever live my life apart from Brady.  My life began when Brady walked into my life and I never wanted that to end.  It just became apparent that he was my answer.  To everything.

My time in Austin was one of my  most treasured times in my life.  Brady and I both fell in love with the city and swore we'd make it back one day, together.  The perfect place to raise a family, we agreed. I lived there for 5 wonderful months.  Every 3-4 weeks Brady and I would travel back and forth to visit each other.  Our nights were reserved for talking on the phone as we had vowed to keep each other involved in our lives, even though they were separate at the time.

On January 11th, 2008 as I was visiting Utah from Texas, Brady asked me to marry him.  We were sitting in the front of his truck when he pulled out a necklace he had found for me as a gift.  It was a long silver chain with a sparkly, vintage inspired pendant.  As he placed it around my neck, my engagement ring slid down the chain.  It was the most romantic proposal I could have ever dreamed up.  We left to attend our dinner reservations, where my family was awaiting our arrival as a surprise to me.  We sat surrounded by the ones we loved in eager anticipation to start this next chapter of our lives.

That night as I lay in bed awake into the wee hours of the morning, I thanked God over and over for bringing me this amazing man.  I couldn't believe that this was really my life.

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part one
part three

The Story Of Us

This week (tomorrow, to be exact) is the 4th anniversary of mine and my beloved's wedding day. Just like all the anniversaries we've shared before, I am so thrilled and excited to be celebrating such a blessed occasion with my sweet.

Did you know how Mr. Miller and myself fell blissfully in love?  Well let me just tell you...

Our sisters were across-the-street neighbors.  One day they had a brilliant idea to set their little siblings up on a date.  I, being the difficult young adult I was at the time, declined a blind date but agreed to giving him my number. (through our sisters, of course) But obviously before that I had to ask all the single-lady-stats, "Is he cute? Is he nice? Is he tall?  Is he weird?" you know, all the important questions.

A few days later our relationship began via text message. (the romance!) We realized we had several friends in common and had a lot to talk text about.

A few days later, nearing the weekend, the kind sir asked me out on a date.  Olive Garden! (which had just opened) The days preparing for our date, I had my hair cut and purchased a new outfit for the occasion, a cute white shirt with a grey jacket over it and super cute, super high white pumps. (through our texting, I discretely found out he was 6'1 so I know I'd be safe with 5 inch heels.)

At 6:58pm on Saturday, March 11th 2007, Mr. Brady Miller knocked on my front door to pick me up for our first date.  He wore a light blue button-up, un-tucked, with the sleeves rolled and jeans with nice golf-style white shoes. (my sisters always taught me that real men always wear nice shoes.. this was the first sigh of relief for the night) He was a sight for sore eyes, if I do say so myself.
I climbed into his very high dodge truck, praying silently that I wouldn't slip and fall with my 5 inch pumps.

We arrived at a very busy Olive Garden and waited for a half hour to sit down.  The time flew by though because we had so much to talk and laugh about.  He was handsome, charming and so easy to talk to.  He would make a really cute husband I silently though to myself in my head, although I would have never admitted thinking that to anyone.

After I finished up my ravioli d'portabello, we headed out.  It was still relatively early and I was in no way near ready for our date to end, apparently neither was Brady because he suggested we go to our mutual friend's house to watch a movie.  When we got there, our friends were busy putting their kids to bed so we sat down to pick out a movie.  Being the gentlemen he was, he let me pick.

"Dirty Dancing?" I suggested, "Never seen it." He replied.  After a brief moment of shock, and explaining that it was my favorite movie of all time, we decided to watch it.  I snuggled in on the couch next to him, wrapping my arm around his.  By this time, we felt like old pals.  Oh, and he liked Dirty Dancing just as much as I thought he would. :)

At the end of our date, we pulled into my drive-way where he got out and assisted me out of his truck, and walked me to the front door to make sure I got in safely.  (No kissing on the first date, who do you think I am?)

But if you must know, there was a kiss on our second date, and it's safe to say, I saw fireworks.

....................................

(us on our 5 year dating anniversary, at olive garden)

Oh boy!

Look what this little miss has been up to today....

I'm not the least bit ready, but that's not stopping her.  Starting last night she's insisted on going on the potty and hasn't looked back.  Wish us luck!