So I’m posting mid vacation. Don’t judge me.

Just a quick update to let you all know we’re in Pittsburgh.  We left Thursday morning at the respectable time of 10 am. That’s what I like about being the age I am.  As a kid, I was always hauled out of bed at a ridiculous hour like 6 just to get an early start on the day.  I’m guessing once we have our own kids, we’ll have to do the same thing.  Probably because it will just take THAT much longer to get anywhere when you’re stopping every hour to pee and eat a snack.   Also – because I think there’s probably a secret book of rules you receive once you’re a parent, and one of those rules is “get your kids up at the crack of dawn whenever you go on holidays”.  I’m not sure, but I’ll let you know once I have kids. 

So, until that happens, Ben and I are just two adults, in our mid-twenties, with no real agenda and the open road ahead of us. So we slept in and got rolling eventually.  It was nice. 

So far it’s been a great time away.  We went shopping on Thursday at Grove City (Outlet Mall extraordinaire).  And people, I think I conquered my record of shopping, since we were at it for 6 and half hours.  If you know me at all, you’ll know that shopping isn’t my favourite thing in the world.  I don’t mind it, and can enjoy it for a bit, but then I reach a certain point where I JUST.DON’T.CARE.ANYMORE.  It is usually at this point that I start telling Ben that whatever it is he wants to buy is probably fine and he should just GET IT ALREADY.  (He’s a thorough shopper, what can I say?).  I also am not a big fan of spending lots of money.  Probably because we don’t have any.  (well, we have some, but not so much of the expendable kind) Thankfully, we didn’t have to spend our money.  Thanks to the flood of ‘09 (Ok, I realize we’re still in 2009, but doesn’t it make it sound like more of an historic event?), we lost quite a few clothes (which may or may not have been on the floor and not hung up like they should have been..). Good ol’ insurance came through for us again and we have a bit of money to spend to replace our lost items.   It made buying a more fun process. 

Grove City was kind to us.  We got deals.  Good ones and lots of them, of the “Pennsylvania-has-no-tax-on-clothes” variety . Would you believe me if I told you we only got through half of the stores?  We’re going to go back on our way out of town just to make sure we don’t miss out on any clothes that were just begging to make their way back to Canada with us.  I’ll keep you posted.

We had a great day yesterday exploring the city.  There will be stories and pictures to come – but since this is our anniversary trip, you can probably expect that I’ll have better things to do than post more blogs. 

See you next week!

Not the Sharpest Knife in the Drawer

Growing up, I was a pretty bright kid.  Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I always did fairly well in school.  Got good grades, always had glowing reports from my teachers, could interact socially without being awkward, overall, just well adjusted.

 But this post isn’t about that.  Actually the opposite.  I was thinking back the other day to my younger years and I was reminded that there were a lot of everyday, normal nuances that somehow seemed to pass me by.  I just didn’t get the memo apparently.  I’m sure lots of kids are like this, and I guess that’s just part of the process of growing and taking in the world around you, but seriously? Sometimes I think my parents must have thought “this kid is an idiot”.  (Of course in a loving and supportive “but-she’s-our-daughter-and we’re-proud-of-her” way…)

For example:

 I remember once when I was six and having been taught the dangers of saying no to drugs, and also being warned that even “good” medicine needs to be taken properly, and only for the specific illness it’s meant for.  I had a wicked sore throat one day at school.  I went home and told my mom that my throat really hurt.  She wanted to give me something to help me feel better.  But I was unsure about this.  You see I wasn’t 100% sure I had a “sore throat”….maybe my throat just hurt.  And if that was the case, then taking medicine designed to cure a sore throat would be bad for me.  Apparently, in my six year old head there was a huge difference between a sore throat, and having a throat that hurt when I swallow, and until a doctor was going to diagnose me with the right illness, I wasn’t about to get all willy-nilly with medicine.

 Or how about the time when I was convinced that “Don’t drink and drive” campaigns were solely in place to ensure that you didn’t spill whatever you were drinking, because you were also driving.  And how I may or may not have panicked one day big time, when my dad got McDonald’s and then proceeded to continue to drink his pop WHILE driving me around.  I KNOW.  Don’t worry, I gave him a what for.

 Then there were the Easter seasons that I was certain that as we reflected on Jesus dying on cross, he was actually being crucified over on the other side of the world.  I thought this was an annual event, and I couldn’t understand why someone wouldn’t just STOP THE INJUSTICE ALREADY.  (I was really young….and also, apparently, a little slow)

 I can also clearly remember waking up on my sixth birthday at my grandparent’s house in Saskatoon. (we were visiting). I probably spent a good half an hour standing beside every.single.piece. of furniture they owned just to see how I measured up to it. I was convinced that you grew on your birthday and so I wanted to see where I measured against things like the kitchen table, the fridge, the counter, the phone, the couches, the wall, the doors…  I would say to myself “Well, if the kitchen table comes up to ‘here’ on me today, then yesterday, it must have come up to ‘here’.  Then I would move the hand that was marking my measurements up an entire inch on my body, showing the amazing growth that ensued overnight.  The best part of this story is that I did this with no one else around.  I just talked to myself as I walked around, doing my yearly measurements. 

 And just in case you needed further proof that sometimes I missed the boat entirely, here it is:

When I was three or four, we were living in Saskatchewan.  We went to the same church as my grandparents (dad’s side) and my aunt, uncle and cousins.  I kind of just assumed that we just really liked hanging out with these people and it was the duty of parents to find an older couple that we could call grandpa and grandma.  It kind of confused me as to how we ever found my other set of grandparents (mom’s side), because they didn’t go to our church, but I just figured they saw them at the mall one day and thought they looked like nice people and asked if they would do us the honour of being our grandparents. 

So one day, we were hanging out at my grandparent’s (dad’s side), after church.  My cousins and aunt and uncle were also there (sidenote: I also just assumed that my aunt and uncle also really liked these old people, and so they also asked them to be their kids grandparents –which was good for me, because I had fun with these people I called my “cousins”)   My dad was holding me and I remember asking him “dad, why do you call grandpa and grandma “mom and dad”??)  And he answered “um.  Well Karmyn, because they are my mom and dad.” 

My world, as I knew it exploded.  I was all like “whoa.  So wait a minute.  You have a DAD and a MOM?  Wait….does this mean that those OTHER people I call grandpa and grandma are mom’s mom and dad??  She has a DAD and a MOM?  Hold up…why does Uncle Gordon call these same people dad and mom? Wait – he’s your BROTHER??  You have a family?? And all of those other people I call aunt and uncle – they’re your and mom’s brothers and sisters??”

 I know right? I’m pretty sure I was thinking to my four year old self “karmyn, you really are an idiot”.  But really.  I’d never connected that we were actually related to these people.  Or that my parents came from somewhere. 

 As I said: not always the sharpest knife in the drawer. (But at least I was cute)

Road Tripping

First off, thanks for all the anniversary wishes!  Ben and I both had the morning off, so we slept in, went for a hike and watched a movie.  We parted ways around noon, at which point we both worked late, and then I went home to my parents for the night without Ben. (Romantic eh?)  I went home to see Dustin (my younger bro) graduate from college.  He has worked really hard to get to this point, and it was such a great day, watching him walk across the stage and get his creds.   

To actually celebrate our anniversary, (Other than the fact that really great friends took us out and treated us to a great evening of good food and even better company – thanks Dave and Lisa!)  Ben and I are going to Pittsburgh at the end of the month for a mini-vacation.  (Thursday to Sunday) We’re going to shop at Grove City, and then basically just explore a city that we’ve never been to before **.   

I have been craving a  road  trip for a while now, and I’m pretty excited to load up the car with snacks (and by snacks I mean peanut M & M’s, fruit, and smartfood), books, music, and us, and head down to PA.    I love just driving in an area I’ve never been before, whipping along a highway, taking in the scenery.   

Ben and I often make up games that involve the radio, signs, scenery and stories of us, that help to pass the time. 

I’m usually being a little ADD with the MP3 player, scrolling through songs until I find one that I can sing at the top of my lungs, much to Ben’s chagrin.  (but deep down, I know he thinks Boom Boom Pow is a catchy tune). 

We’ll stop to get gas, stretch our legs, and it’s here that I can usually convince Ben that there IS room in the travel budget for a chocolate bar and an Archie comic.

Whoever isn’t driving will often have created a nest of pillows and sweaters, making the perfect napping location in the passengers seat. 

At some point, I’ll probably get a little bit grumpy at Ben, because for the UMPTEENTH time, he wants a drink/snack from the cooler while he’s driving and I have to leave my comfortable nest and reach around to the back seat and get it for him.  (But then I realize that I’m being selfish and I suck it up…most of the time) 

Sometimes, we’ll try to play Texas Hold’em while we’re driving.  Don’t worry, the passenger always deals. 

And sometimes, we just sit in silence.  And soak in the open road, and each other’s presence. 

When we finally arrive at our hotel, there’s a really good chance that I’ll jump on our bed, just because I can. 

**Ok, internet.  This is where you come in.  I need your help.  What the heck should we do in Pittsburgh?  Are there must see’s/do’s?    If you’ve never been there, then let me know what songs I should be downloading for the trip, or what snacks are a must have for the car ride**

Three.

(See here for Two) 

When Ben and I were dating, I went out to Nova Scotia for a week after school ended for the summer.  We’d been together just about a year at this point, and although I’d met his family, I’d never had a chance to see him on his turf, at his home, in his element. 

 That summer, Ben was going to be heading to Nevada to work at a camp, and in the last few weeks as school wound down, things seemed strained for us.  You know that feeling you sometimes get when something isn’t quite right, and you can’t put your finger on it? Yeah, that was us.  Conversations seemed forced, hang outs were quieter, and although we weren’t at all mad at each other, there just seemed to be something missing.  We kind of chalked it up to the fact that summer was coming and we knew we’d be forced to spend months apart, but deep down, it scared me a little. 

I remember having a conversation with Christy, and telling her that this summer was to be our “make it or break it” summer.  The time when we would be able to tell if absence really made our hearts grow fonder.  

Fast forward a month, and school was done.  I drove out east with Ben, his brother and his grandparents (who had so graciously offered to pick them up from school and drive them home) and started a week of trying to navigate my way through Ben’s world.  It was a great week.  Overwhelming, but great.  (There are a LOT of Bokma’s to meet back home, yo) 

One night during that week Ben and I were hanging out in my room before bed (thanks Rachel for giving up your room!!), and our talk started to move in the direction of  “something’s not quite right. Right?”  To be honest, I can’t remember word for word what we talked about – I mean, when you’re dating, there are SO many conversations that need to be had as you grow and get to know each other.  I do remember, however,  addressing the fact that something seemed off, but then also following it up with “But we’ll know more at the end of the summer.  That’s our test period to see if we’re supposed to be together”.  It’s something we’d sort of unofficially agreed on. The funny thing is though, the conversation didn’t end there.  It kept going.  And Ben started to admit uncertainties he was having too.  And people, that was hard.  Hard to hear.  I mean, as a girl, with feelings, hormones and whatnot, I was often prone in our relationship to go to Ben with “I don’t know about us” talks.  And Ben, being somewhat more stable than I, would patiently listen, hear me out, not laugh at my irrational fears, and then pray with me.  And through those times we grew.  But to hear him say that he wasn’t sure? I didn’t know what to do with that.  If both of us weren’t sure, is that our indication that this needed to end? 

BUT – it didn’t end there either (thankfully).  It turned into a time of utter and complete honesty.  A time where we laid it all out on the table (well, bed, but that’s not really a cliché phrase now is it?)  and pushed each other past our fears and towards truth.  And yes, there were tears (can you guess who’s?)  And yes, for a little bit of that talk my heart felt slightly ripped.  But at the end of it, there was peace.  Peace in having worked through thoughts we didn’t want to have to admit to each other.  Peace in knowing we were ok.  

And it was then, in that exact moment that I knew.  I knew I wanted to marry this man.  Because if we could take a situation filled with fear and uncertainty and turn it into a time of rest, then I knew we’d be alright.  It caught me off guard, because I’d so conditioned myself to not making a decision until the end of summer, but at the core of who I was, I knew Ben was who I should marry. 

People always said “you just KNOW”.  And I didn’t quite believe them.  But that’s how it was.  I just KNEW.  And Ben just knew too.  And we looked at each other at the end of a long night, and I said “I know I want to marry you” and he said “I know I want to marry you too”.

 And now it’s been three years.  Three years since we said vows that we still try hard to live out.  We are different people than the two that sat on Rachel’s bed back when we were dating.  We’re older.  I’d like to think wiser.  And have grown deeper together.  And there have been many more times like the one we had that night.  Times when together, we have had to work through stuff, figure stuff out, fight with each other, fight FOR each other, pray, make decisions that grown up adults have to make, laugh, play, cry, sleep, tease, and love.   And I wouldn’t give any of it back.  And it has been a gift from God to see his hand moving us together, keeping us together and growing us deeper in love. 

 

To Benjy:

Three years goes by fast huh?  This year was different than last, for lots of reasons.  Our jobs changed, our home changed (a few times), our church changed, our cars changed, and I guess, if I’m being honest, my hair is definitely greyer than this time last year. (Sheesh, that’s a post on it’s own – my lament of my rapidly greying hair). 

This year helped me to see that we are pretty good at change.  I love knowing you so well, that when we have a decision to make, I know what you’ll say, and how you’ll say it, and that I can trust you. 

I think we laughed more together this year, and I loved that too.  Our inside jokes, the dumb things we watch together on Youtube, the ways we mock each other, and the times when I try to wrestle you, but it always ends up with me being endlessly tickled and yelling my line “stop! I’m going to throw up!” (I guess by now you know that I won’t actually throw up, but I’m still clinging to the hope that it will scare you into not tickling me for a few moments). 

Did we fight? Yeah, we did. Were there days that I maybe wished I had a bigger place than a 1 bedroom apartment so that I could not be in the same room as you for a few minutes? Yeah, there were.  Did I let you down as a wife? Oh several times I’m sure.

 But beyond all our shortcomings, we have stuck true to putting God back in the middle of things, even when the last thing we want to do is be humble enough to do that.  And that is why I know, just like I did 5 years ago, sitting on Rachel’s bed, that you and me? We’re pretty good together. 

I still choose you. Today. Like I did that night. And like I did three years ago.  You are mine. I am yours.  And just like we talked about the other day, it is only by God’s grace that those words will ring true forever. 

 

Happy Anniversary Benjamin.  

Love, K.

An ode to the old school

Tonight I met up with these four lovely ladies for supper.

 

I have known these four for quite some time.  They all go to the church I went to back in Hamilton, and I was their small group leader for a bunch of years.  It all started back when they were in grade seven, and there wasn’t much going on for the jr. highs in our church.  Me and another girl started meeting with them weekly, mostly to eat chips, play games, and for maybe 10 minutes talk about something to do with God.  I was still in university, so we met at my dorm.  The next year, we moved our meetings to one of their houses, and the basement because ours. Our times still involved lots of laughs, games, and of course, more chips.  Soon, our talks were getting a little deeper, our times seemed rich and full of meaning, and our friendships grew.  

 

(some of them at a wedding shower they threw me when I was engaged)

And then before I knew it, 5 years went by and now they’re almost in grade 12.  (Sheesh, talk about making me feel old).  I don’t see them too often, since moving to Oakville.  Our lives are all busy, taking different turns, filled with different activities, and it’s tougher for my path to cross theirs.  But tonight, for a few hours, we made it happen.  And it was great.  It was good to hear how they are doing, how their lives are and get the latest boy, school and sports updates.   But mostly? It was good just to be with them.  To be around a table all together. 

It’s hard not to want to call them “my girls”.  I know I can’t take ownership of them. For goodness sakes, they are all so full of gifts,skill, abilities, beauty, and I know I had nothing to do with that.  But our times together were real, meaningful, and a time we all look at fondly, and so for tonight, it was a pleasure to see my girls again, like the good old days. 

To you girls (and I know you creep me, so don’t even pretend like you won’t see this…):  Thanks for tonight.  The only things that were missing were Rachel’s chicken clucking and you all throwing me a goodbye party, even though I’m not going anywhere.   xo.

Stick a racket in my hand, and I become a lethal weapon. It’s only fair that I warn you.

Tonight Ben and I played tennis.  There’s a pretty sweet set of courts near our place that stay lit until fairly late at night, so we went out for a few hours this evening to whack a few balls around.  Here’s a little breakdown of our time on the courts:

• I realized pretty early on that I’m not very good. I think what kind of tipped me off was when 3 consecutive serves went into the three other courts.
• There was a group of guys who apparently missed the memo that they were on a tennis court and instead must have thought they were at a skatepark.  They also apparently assumed they were as good as Tony Hawk.  Not true.  At all.
• Although I’m not awesome at tennis, I did notice that the minute Ben and I had a rally of at least three, I instantly felt like I should probably just go ahead and sign up for Wimbledon.
• At one point, one of the skateboarders walked over to the corner of the courts and peed.  For a long time.  Right behind Ben.  Which meant that I could see him doing it.
• It then meant that when Ben and I switched sides, I had to try extra hard  to get the balls before they landed in the pee corner. 

And on a completely unrelated topic, check out this video.  Musically – it’s really sweet.  I can take zero credit for this find.  But clearly, I will post it anyway.  I’m all about spreading the youtube gems of the world.  (I found it through Angella, who linked it through Whoorl.  2 great reads, you should check them out)